Well, I didn't do anything this weekend

I slept all day Saturday (after I took down the Christmas tree and hauled it out to the curb). Today I went to church, then I watched the Arizona Cardinals beat the Philadelphia Eagles and the Pittsburg Steelers beat the Baltimore Ravens. During the commercials I watched my new DVD Nietzsche and the Nazis.

Kelley Ross has written a review of it, Nietzsche and the Nazis, with some strong arguments against Dr. Stephen Hicks' "personal view," which inspired me to get the DVD and view it for myself.

Here's Ross' conclusion:

Hicks is confused enough about morality that he agrees with Nietzsche on the "slave revolt," and this serves to vindicate the influence, which he mentions himself, that Nietzsche had on Ayn Rand. This merely serves to illuminate the failings and oversights of Randite ethics. Nietzsche and the Nazis would be much better if Hicks were not carrying water for the peculiarities of Ayn Rand's own defense of liberalism and capitalism. By apparently agreeing with Nietzsche's denigration of Jewish and Christian compassion and charity, Hicks in truth burdens his case for freedom, democracy, liberalism, and capitalism with a weakness that the enemies of all these, today principally on the Left (but also in Islamic Fascism), have never hesitated to exploit. Politically, leftist rhetoric is still, even in America, much more pervasive and effective than any defense of the free market or private property.

Nevertheless, despite these tendentious weaknesses, and the peculiarity of its structure, Nietzsche and the Nazis is a valuable and, on the whole, impressive work. That Nietzsche was not an individualist and that the Nazis were socialists are points that seriously need arguing against other admirers of Nietzsche, on the former point, and against those who, on the latter point, promote the leftist interpretation of fascism as a form of capitalism. Hicks does this all effectively, even as he performs the valuable historical service of preserving and expounding what the ideology of the Nazi regime actually was, and the reasons why a great many Germans really supported it. We should not forget that the eugenics movement in the United States was not completely discredited until it was obvious what the Nazis had done, faithfully, with such ideas. At the same time, the attraction of Nietzsche for Stephen Hicks himself is evidence for the thesis that intellectually serious people, whether Nazis or not, can believe this stuff.

Emphases and links are in the original.

I must say, I didn't find the Randian touches particularly disagreeable, but, then, I've been tempering my Objectivism with Ross's insights for a number of years now. I won't feel very qualified to argue against Dr. Ross until I finally get around to finishing one of Kant's books - or, rather, several. The impression I got of Kant from my college course on him (called Romanticism and Alienation, and it wasn't exclusively about Kant, we also surveyed Fichte, Hegel, Schilling and some other German Idealists - my paper was, more or less, "Fichte and the Nazis"; I think I got a B- on it)...

Oops! Digression!

Anyway, my impression of Kant from that class was that he deserved both barrels of what Ayn Rand fired at him. It is Ross who got me to reconsider. The trouble is, I'd rather read Ross than Kant or Schopenhauer.

I know that the points Ross goes on about in his review, even with his forewarning, aren't ones in which I feel much of a personal stake, so I found it difficult to get as worked up over them as he did when I watched the movie (the first time, without the football games). I've read four books on Hitler, including Mein Kampf and The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, and thirty or fourty on World War II, visited Dachau, stayed for two and a half weeks with a former SS soldier and been otherwise inundated with information about that epoch... You'd think I'd be tough to impress on that subject... But I was impressed with Hicks' presentation of the similarities and differences between Naziism and Nietzsheanism.

And, of course, I am interested in the comparison of Hicks' achievement with my own.

Update: Aha! Now I see a bit more clearly.

I suppose the people who still stop by here are aware

that my tagline, or whatever you call it, "Seeking transcendence one relationship at a time" is a bit of satire. But since nobody's mentioned it, I figured maybe I should say something.

Any suggestions for how I could make it funnier?

[Edit-5/16/2010: Good thing I quoted the tagline, eh? Since I changed it. It's actually quite a brilliant line. I think I changed it out of guilt.]

The White Man's Burden

by Rudyard Kipling.

Like it or not, you should know it.

Take up the White man's burden --
Send forth the best ye breed --
Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness
On fluttered folk and wild --
Your new-caught, sullen peoples,
Half devil and half child.

Take up the White Man's burden --
In patience to abide,
To veil the threat of terror
And check the show of pride;
By open speech and simple,
An hundred times mad plain.
To seek another's profit,
And work another's gain.

Take up the White Man's burden --
The savage wars of peace --
Fill full the mouth of Famine
And bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest
The end for others sought,
Watch Sloth and heathen Folly
Bring all your hope to nought.

Take up the White Man's burden --
No tawdry rule of kings,
But toil of serf and sweeper --
The tale of common things.
The ports ye shall not enter,
The roads ye shall not tread,
Go make them with your living,
And mark them with your dead!

Take up the White man's burden --
And reap his old reward:
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard --
The cry of hosts ye humour
(Ah, slowly!) toward the light: --
"Why brought ye us from bondage,
"Our loved Egyptian night?"

Take up the White Man's burden --
Ye dare not stoop to less --
Nor call too loud on freedom
To cloak your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
By all ye leave or do,
The silent, sullen peoples
Shall weigh your Gods and you.

Take up the White Man's burden --
Have done with childish days --
The lightly proffered laurel,
The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
Through all the thankless years,
Cold-edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The judgment of your peers!

Seems to me that, as Kipling presents the matter here, the value gained is insufficient to justify the price paid.

Not to mention the assumption that White Men should be doing these things.

This fellow has other thoughts on the matter.

Have a quote or two from Randolph Bourne:

Under the Habeas Corpus Act of 1679, any person knowing about a man’s unlawful detention may apply for a writ ordering the jailer to “have at the Royal Courts of Justice the body of” the prisoner.

Whoops! That's a good quote, but it comes from Habeas Corpus to the Rescue, a rather gripping account of the salvation of a Polish defector to Britain in 1956, by Alexander T. Jordan, British journalist. Emphasis mine.

Here's a paragraph of Bourne's The State:

Government is obviously composed of common and unsanctified men, and is thus a legitimate object of criticism and even contempt. If your own party is in power, things may be assumed to be moving safely enough; but if the opposition is in, then clearly all safety and honor have fled the State. Yet you do not put it to yourself in quite that way. What you think is only that there are rascals to be turned out of a very practical machinery of offices and functions which you take for granted. When we say that Americans are lawless, we usually mean that they are less conscious than other peoples of the august majesty of the institution of the State as it stands behind the objective government of men and laws which we see. In a republic the men who hold office are indistinguishable from the mass. Very few of them possess the slightest personal dignity with which they could endow their political role; even if they ever thought of such a thing. And they have no class distinction to give them glamour. In a republic the Government is obeyed grumblingly, because it has no bedazzlements or sanctities to gild it. If you are a good old-fashioned democrat, you rejoice at this fact, you glory in the plainness of a system where every citizen has become a king. If you are more sophisticated you bemoan the passing of dignity and honor from affairs of State. But in practice, the democrat does not in the least treat his elected citizen with the respect due to a king, nor does the sophisticated citizen pay tribute to the dignity even when he finds it. The republican State has almost no trappings to appeal to the common man’s emotions. What it has are of military origin, and in an unmilitary era such as we have passed through since the Civil War, even military trappings have been scarcely seen. In such an era the sense of the State almost fades out of the consciousness of men.

[Bourne died in the flu pandemic of 1918; he starts talking about WWI in the next paragraph.]

Here is the opening salvo of The War and The Intellectuals:

To those of us who still retain an irreconcilable animus against war, it has been a bitter experience to see the unanimity with which the American intellectuals have thrown their support to the use of war-technique in the crisis in which America found herself. Socialists, college professors, publicists, new-republicans, practitioners of literature, have vied with each other in confirming with their intellectual faith the collapse of neutrality and the riveting of the war-mind on a hundred million more of the world's people. And the intellectuals are not content with confirming our belligerent posture. They are now complacently asserting that it was they who effectively willed it, against the hesitation and dim perceptions of the American democratic masses. A war made deliberately by the intellectuals! A calm moral verdict, arrived at after a penetrating study of inexorable facts! Sluggish masses, too remote from the world-conflict to be stirred, too lacking in intellect to perceive their danger! An alert intellectual class, saving the people in spite of themselves, biding their time with Fabian strategy until the nation could be moved into war without serious resistance! An intellectual class, gently guiding a nation through sheer force of ideas into what the other nations entered only through predatory craft or popular hysteria or militarist madness! A war free from any taint of self-seeking, a war that will secure the triumph of democracy and internationalize the world! This is the picture which the more self-conscious intellectuals have formed of themselves, and which they are slowly impressing upon a population which is being led no man knows whither by an indubitably intellectualized President. And they are right, in that the war certainly did not spring from either the ideals or the prejudices, from the national ambitions or hysterias, of the American people, however acquiescent the masses prove to be, and however clearly the intellectuals prove their putative intuition.

And, from A War Diary:

The kind of war which we are conducting is an enterprise which the American government does not have to carry on with the hearty cooperation of the American people but only with their acquiescence. And that acquiescence seems sufficient to float an indefinitely protracted war for vague or even largely uncomprehended and unaccepted purposes. Our resources in men and materials are vast enough to organize the war-technique without enlisting more than a fraction of the people's conscious energy. Many men will not like being sucked into the actual fighting organism, but as the war goes on they will be sucked in as individuals and they will yield. There is likely to be no element in the country with the effective will to help them resist. They are not likely to resist of themselves concertedly. They will be licked grudgingly into military shape, and their lack of enthusiasm will in no way unfit them for use in the hecatombs necessary for the military decision upon which Allied political wisdom still apparently insists. It is unlikely that enough men will be taken from the potentially revolting classes seriously to embitter their spirit. Losses in the well-to-do classes will be sustained by a sense of duty and of reputable sacrifice. From the point of view of the worker, it will make little difference whether his work contributes to annihilation overseas or to construction at home. Temporarily, his condition is better if it contributes to the former. We of the middle classes will be progressively poorer than we should otherwise have been. Our lives will be slowly drained by clumsily levied taxes and the robberies of imperfectly controlled private enterprises. But this will not cause us to revolt. There are not likely to be enough hungry stomachs to make a revolution. The materials seem generally absent from the country, and as long as a government wants to use the war-technique in its realization of great ideas, it can count serenely on the human resources of the country, regardless of popular mandate or understanding.

Oh, I forgot to mention that all these links came from Foundation for Economic Education President Sheldon Richman's article Illiberal Means, Illiberal Ends, now also linked in the title bar here. Read that. And when you've finished that, read the Ralph Raico pdf that he links.

V for Vendetta: preliminary notes for a review

Wikipedia article. Actually belies, somewhat, the notion that the Norsefire regime is intended as a direct outgrowth from the Thatcher government.

I prefer Spooner and the early Herbert Spencer to Bakunin. Hell, I prefer Nietzsche and Stirner to Bakunin.

I like what Moore says about the movie, "[The movie] has been "turned into a Bush-era parable by people too timid to set a political satire in their own country.... It's a thwarted and frustrated and largely impotent American liberal fantasy of someone with American liberal values standing up against a state run by neoconservatives—which is not what the comic V for Vendetta was about. It was about fascism, it was about anarchy, it was about England."

I haven't read the graphic novel. I think I will.

Update Mon. 5/21/07: Got it Saturday, read it by 5:00 Sunday - it is illuminating. Moore is right. It seems hard to believe that the movie is actually a milk-toast (must I use a "que"?) version of the story, but, yeah, it does cut out the harder edges of the fascism and anarchism in the movie. And in doing so in the case of the latter, eliminates the need for V's important distinction of the difference between anarchy and chaos.

As I say, I'm not sanguine with the Bakuninist idea that the current society must be destroyed before we can rebuild a better world, but in the case of a totally fascist world, as presented in V, I can see it.

One of the funny ironies is that they show the decapitation of a fascist state. Where have we seen that before? If you're going to be wishy-washy about it, you wind up in Iraq.

The flaw in the Bush invasions, is that the rebuilding has been undertaken using collectivist, centralized control methods. I'd like to think that they were trying not to make the mistakes in privatizing that were made in the former Soviet Union, but simply retaining centralized control of Iraq's resources hasn't proven too efficient either. Any more than it did for the Soviet Union.

The Gospel According to Clayton Makepeace

I’m amazed that so many folks have a hard time admitting they like money. I love money. In fact, I believe the guy who first translated I Timothy 6:10 needed glasses: I’m sure it should have read, “The LACK of money is the root of all evil.”

If money is evil, time is evil … freedom is evil … your very life is evil. Because all money is, is a physical manifestation of time.

You’ve got two choices of how to spend each day. You can spend it doing what you want to do, or doing what someone else – a client, for example – wants you to do.

So when you work, you’re selling your scarcest resource: Chunks of your life. You only have so many minutes on this planet and you’ve agreed to trade some of them in return for money.

Now, you can sell your life for peanuts if you want. Me? I’m looking for the highest bidder. That means making sure every minute I spend working brings me the maximum number of simoleans possible.

That lets me provide a great life for my wife, kids and grandkids. It lets me donate to charity. It lets me BUY BACK chunks of my life later on and have the freedom to do whatever I please. It means when I’m 96 years old and pooping in a diaper, I won’t be a burden to anyone.

Awesome! Genius!

Oh, before anybody goes off on me, let me include his next paragraph:

So my goal list has only one item on it: Make more money. So long as I’m not violating a personal ethic, or a law, or a regulation, or hurting someone else, I’m going for the moolah.

Kinda reminds me of "...And the second is like unto it: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."

I'm really looking forward to that lightening bolt, aren't I?

I just finished reading Little Men to my daughter.

It's definitely bourgeois, but if anyone calls it philistinish, why I'll... I'll... Well, I don't know what.

Actually, I suppose the Avant Garde would call it philistinish. It's the height of Victorian literature.

My daughter could read Alcott's books herself, of course, but I think we get much more out of it this way.

If you want to inculcate good family values in your children, you can't do better than read Luisa May Alcott to them. She does a wonderful job of making old-fashioned morals interesting and entertaining.

This passage, which loses its poignancy by being ripped from its context, almost makes me question Ethical Egoism (though, I assure you, I could reinterpret things to suit my favored system). It's an impromptu eulogy given for a beloved character:

"Let me tell you a little about John Brooke, and you will see why men honor him, and why he was satisfied to be good rather than rich or famous. He simply did his duty in all things, and did it so cheerfully, so faithfully, that it kept him patient and brave, and happy through poverty and loneliness and years of hard work. He was a good son, and gave up his own plans to stay and live with his mother while she needed him. He was a good friend, and taught Laurie much beside his Greek and Latin, did it unconsciously, perhaps, by showing him an example of an upright man. He was a faithful servant, and made himself so valuable to those who employed him that they will find it hard to fill his place. He was a good husband and father, so tender, wise, and thoughtful, that Laurie and I learned much of him, and only knew how well he loved his family, when we discovered all he had done for them, unsuspected and unassisted."

Mr. Bhaer stopped a minute, and the boys sat like statues in the moonlight until he went on again, in a subdued, but earnest voice: "As he lay dying, I said to him, 'Have no care for Meg and the little ones; I will see that they never want.' Then he smiled and pressed my hand, and answered, in his cheerful way, 'No need of that; I have cared for them.' And so he had, for when we looked among his papers, all was in order, not a debt remained; and safely put away was enough to keep Meg comfortable and independent. Then we knew why he had lived so plainly, denied himself so many pleasures, except that of charity, and worked so hard that I fear he shortened his good life. He never asked help for himself, though often for others, but bore his own burden and worked out his own task bravely and quietly. No one can say a word of complaint against him, so just and generous and kind was he; and now, when he is gone, all find so much to love and praise and honor, that I am proud to have been his friend, and would rather leave my children the legacy he leaves his than the largest fortune ever made. Yes! Simple, generous goodness is the best capital to found the business of this life upon. It lasts when fame and money fail, and is the only riches we can take out of this world with us. Remember that, my boys; and if you want to earn respect and confidence and love follow in the footsteps of John Brooke."

This suffers terribly from the lack of context and looks like heavy-handed moralism, but is there anybody who could condemn the way this man led his life? It's definitely the sort of thing I'd tell my kids about a friend in the same situation. I hope not to have to, I know a couple guys who live by their principles to the same degree.

Come to think of it, they're both my brothers-in-law, as Mr. Brooke was to Father Bhaer, the eulogist here.

And I had a hand in fixing both of them up with my sisters. So I have one thing to be proud of, at least. (Though the guy I directly fixed up with the younger sister was quite the diamond-in-the-rough when I did it.)

[I still need to find a guy for the third sister. But I didn't do the first two on purpose, so I can't let that weigh on me or the magic won't work.]

Anyway, Ms. Alcott is every bit as engaging a storyteller as the other authors we've read, L.M. Montgomery, C.S. Lewis, J.K.Rowling [It's the initial thing, must be! We'll have to read J.R.R. Tolkien next.], Rose Wilder Lane and her mother Laura Ingalls Wilder (Roger MacBride has convinced me that Laura didn't do it alone).

Basic Knowledge of Knowledge

All abstract knowledge of reality begins with our only direct point of contact with reality: perceptual observation. For example, the first concepts formed by a child are those formed directly from perceptual data; they are what philosopher Ayn Rand, the first philosopher to fully identify the hierarchical nature of knowledge, called “first-level concepts.” A child looks out at the world, perceives entities, and integrates his perceptions into these first-level concepts—concepts such as “cat,” “dog,” and “horse.”

Using these first-level concepts, a child is able to form simple generalizations such as “cats meow” or “dogs bark.” From these early concepts and generalizations, and with further observation, he is then able to form more abstract concepts (concepts further removed from the perceptual level) and to make more abstract generalizations. For example, noting the essential similarities between cats, dogs, and horses, he is able to form the concept “animal.” He does not look at the world and see “animals”; he looks and sees cats and dogs and the like—from which observations he is able to form the corresponding first-level concepts. Then, having formed these abstractions, he is able to form the broader abstraction of “animal.” Eventually, having made countless observations, and having grasped a complex range of concepts and relationships on various levels of abstraction, he is able to form generalizations such as: “All animals are mortal.”

A concept or generalization is more or less abstract according to its cognitive distance from the perceptual level. Concepts and generalization exist in a hierarchy, from the perceptual level to the highest level abstractions.

Highly abstract concepts presuppose a very long chain of prior conceptualizations. This is why, for example, so much knowledge must be gained for students to learn calculus.

There's more and more to come from her on this. The title bar is a link, btw.

In Which I Earn My Title

Here's some free advice I got in the Pathway to Prosperity eCourse [don't forget the link, Al]:

When we contemplate the fact that the universe is abounding in all good things, material as well as spiritual, and compare it with man's blind eagerness to secure a few gold coins, or a few acres of dirt, it is then that we realize how dark and ignorant selfishness is; it is then that we know that self-seeking is self-destruction.

Nature gives all, without reservation, and loses nothing; man, grasping all, loses everything.

Yeah, so we can all just lie down on the lawn and let nature take its course.

Look, I don't need to be inspired to sit around mooning all day. I'm way too given to that already. More than anybody I know! [Except my sister, she's worse than me.] I need to be convinced that it's worth my while to get off my damn duff and do some damn work!

I already know the pathway to internal peace, I found that decades ago: climb a tree in the woods and listen to the birds sing. First rule of Peace is "shut up."

Now, let me deal with the strawman, "man's blind eagerness to secure a few gold coins, or a few acres of dirt."

A few acres of dirt? How about a few acres of wheat, or strawberries, flowers or apple trees? Human eyes see the prize. Dirt is more than just dirt. And so is money more than dirt.

I forget who said it, but someone advised a young man, many years ago, to strive to be a millionaire, not just for the sake of aquiring money, but for the virtues it would teach him. Let me try to list them: patience, persuasion, cooperation, prudence in saving and investing, judging character in potential partners. Hard work. Honesty.

Even Mafia dons exercise these virtues more than their opposite vices. If they didn't they would be ousted (and/or killed) and replaced.

An Interesting Insight from ETR

How is it possible that billionaires have the best employees, contracts that favor their companies, and business strategies that bring them tangible financial benefits year after year? The answer is simple: They see more in people, contracts, and the various business strategies that are offered them throughout their careers.

I don't think I should quote overmuch from Early to Rise, since they charge for their services [Maybe not. They seem to have gone FREE on me since I subscribed. Hopefully they'll renew me at that rate, but I don't regret having paid for what I got.], but this goes well with a point made the other day in a letter to another contributor:

From a letter written to Bill Bonner at The Daily Reckoning...

"I'd like to share a grammar school lesson I got in the fifth or sixth grade of Catholic elementary school. Bear in mind that this was the fifties, and the boys were taught by the Christian Brothers. These guys were tough. Many of them, if not all, were WWII or Korean War vets. And, they had answers for most tough questions. They also were pretty blunt. And, not a lot of patience for distinctions that did not make a difference. Strangely, they took a pretty strong position on [the subject of equality].

"Jefferson wrote 'all men are created equal.' To these battle-hardened vets, there was nothing 'wrong' about this assertion. Quizzically, they would say, 'All men ARE created equal. But, all men are NOT born equal.'

Whoops! I got my dates backwards. This one is from today, the first quote is from 7/22/06.

They also have a nice quote by Ben Franklin:

The Quotable Mr. Franklin: On Doomsdayers ...

"I saw in the public papers of different states frequent complaints of hard times, deadness of trade, scarcity of money, &c. It is always in the power of a small number to make a great clamour. But let us take a cool view of the general state of our affairs, and perhaps the prospect will appear less gloomy than has been imagined."

(Source: The Compleated Autobiography, by Benjamin Franklin, compiled and edited by Mark Skousen)

I'm a big fan of Skousen as well as Franklin.

My Favorite Poem

I suppose it's neither a very bourgeois nor philistinish to post on such a topic, but I'm in the mood, and those who know me will understand its meaning to me:

"Terence, this is stupid stuff:
You eat your victuals fast enough;
There can't be much amiss, 'tis clear,
To see the rate you drink your beer.
But oh, good Lord, the verse you make,
It gives a chap the belly-ache.
The cow, the old cow, she is dead;
It sleeps well, the horned head:
We poor lads, 'tis our turn now
To hear such tunes as killed the cow.
Pretty friendship 'tis to rhyme
Your friends to death before their time
Moping melancholy mad:
Come, pipe a tune to dance to, lad."

Why, if 'tis dancing you would be
There's brisker pipes than poetry.
Say, for what were hop-yards meant,
Or why was Burton built on Trent?
Oh, many a peer of England brews
Livelier liquor than the Muse,
And malt does more than Milton can
To justify God's ways to man.
Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink
For fellows whom it hurts to think:
Look into the pewter pot
To see the world as the world's not.
And faith, 'tis pleasant till 'tis past:
The mischief is that 'twill not last.
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair
And left my necktie god knows where,
And carried half-way home, or near,
Pints and quarts of Ludlow beer:
Then the world seemed none so bad,
And I myself a sterling lad;
And down in lovely muck I've lain,
Happy till I woke again.
Then I saw the morning sky:
Heigho, the tale was all a lie;
The world, it was the old world yet,
I was I, my things were wet,
And nothing now remained to do
But begin the game anew.

Therefore, since the world has still
Much good, but much less good than ill,
And while the sun and moon endure
Luck's a chance, but trouble's sure,
I'd face it as a wise man would,
And train for ill and not for good.
'Tis true, the stuff I bring for sale
Is not so brisk a brew as ale:
Out of a stem that scored the hand
I wrung it in a weary land.
But take it: if the smack is sour,
The better for the embittered hour;
It should do good to heart and head
When your soul is in my soul's stead;
And I will friend you, if I may,
In the dark and cloudy day.

There was a king reigned in the East:
There, when kings will sit to feast,
They get their fill before they think
With poisoned meat and poisoned drink.
He gathered all that springs to birth
From the many-venomed earth;
First a little, thence to more,
He sampled all her killing store;
And easy, smiling, seasoned sound,
Sate the king when healths went round.
They put arsenic in his meat
And stared aghast to watch him eat;
They poured strychnine in his cup
And shook to see him drink it up:
They shook, they stared as white's their shirt:
Them it was their poison hurt
- I tell the tale that I heard told.
Mithridates, he died old.

-- A. E. Housman

I got it here, where you can read some commentary on the background and imagery.