Burden of Proof

My newsfeed has been host to an ongoing list of links and rants ever increasing in hysteria over the Dakota Access Pipeline. One side says that the Sioux Indian nation is once again the victim of bullying, while the other (much less vocal) crowd claims that the pipeline is only controversial because the media and global warming crusaders had declared it so. At this point, I've not read enough to really take a side, but I did notice that my gut reflex was to side with Transcanada (the company behind the pipeline) over the Sioux nation. How could I be so callous and heartless?! My ever-running inner monologue swooped in to save the day and use this controversy as a medium through which to examine my own political philosophy:

In short, I tend to be suspicious of government, but trusting of private business. This is because 1) the narratives of "evil" business and "righteous" American Indian are fraught with errors and oversimplification, and 2) government and business have different things to prove when either wants to get something done; in the case of government, almost every decision is tied to either taxation (read "other people's money") or limitations on personal rights, while in the case of business, every decision is private until it impacts the lives of others. Let me explain.

1) Many of us have been taught that big business is the great Satan of America; at least this seems to explain the rash of anti-business rhetoric that frequently accompanies any mention on FB of the Transcanada/Sioux standoff. Paired with that, of course, is the narrative that American Indians have been nothing but abused ever since 1492. These simplistic representations are fundamentally problematic because they gloss over a library's worth of inconvenient details, such as Upton Sinclair's political bias against big business that inspired his magnum opus, The Jungle, the general wealth and prosperity of the working American versus the working European during the age of the so-called "robber barons," as well as the sad historical truism that thems what got better tech will beat the opposition; the first Europeans to visit the New World in AD1000 were defeated by the equally-well-armed natives, while 492 years later, the Europeans had advanced into the early Industrial age while the aforesaid natives were still killing big game using arrows and atlatls. Much like the Mongols of the 13th century who conquered Russia and overran eastern Europe thanks to their superior horses, superior composite bows and battle strategies, and superior (actually, breathtaking) number of fighting men, the Europeans of the Exploration and Colonial eras proved technologically superior to their native neighbors. Thus, whenever the two clashed, the whites *always* won in the long run. This lop-sided history makes it easy for modern historians and teachers (while sipping lattes and groaning over the whole hour necessary to enter a Walmart Super-Center for made-to-order bread, eggs, and disposable diapers) to scoff at the real dangers of bloodshed and deprevation faced by both natives and settlers of the colonial era, and ascribe all evils to the victorious White Man. My awareness of this means that at the first discovery of the Dakota Access controversy (often none-too-subtly couched in terms of GRASPING WHITE MAN v OPPRESSED NATIVE) my gut told me that the situation was likely too complex to quickly grasp. 

2) Despite my noncommittal approach to Dakota Access, I have been able to formulate the afore-mentioned philosophy, that I tend to distrust government and trust business. This is because of the nature of the proofs necessary for each party to provide in justification of their endeavors. 

In the case of government: almost every decision is tied to either taxation (read "other people's money") or limitations on personal rights. Therefore, anything that the government or its agencies want to do must be critically examined. Let's say that the city decides that a road needs to be repaired. This is going to cost money, and the city, being a form of government, frequently accumulates revenue through taxation. If my opinion was solicited (say, though a city-wide vote) I'd have questions: Does the road need to be repaired/why? How much will it cost? Why select that company to do the construction? Who proposed this repair, and how will it benefit them? Or suppose the same city government wishes to pass a new law or ordinance regarding the use of said road. Once more, responsible citizens ought to ask probing questions about why the city believes it necessary to, in some way, limit the rights of citizens in their use of the road. These questions and others that could be imagined demonstrate that for every action, government must FIRST prove its motives pure - either because it is using citizen money, or because its laws, rules, and regulations are each a kind of infringement upon the rights of private citizens.

In the case of business: the exact opposite is true. Nobody likes a grasping businessman, but the truth that is inconvenient for many of us is that "it's none of your concern." So he doesn't offer health coverage comparable to that of other employers? So he doesn't have a "green" policy? So he doesn't give to charities or offer maternity leave?  The fact remains he has no power to force people to work for him, nor has he the right to force customers to patronize his business. His affairs are his own - until they infringe on the rights of others. At that point the proof lies with his accusers to prove that he is somehow neglecting their rights in favor of his own selfish interests. Is he violating health/safety codes? Is he directing his employees to trespass on private property? These and other challenges demonstrate that for every action, private business is under no obligation to prove that its motives are pure; rather the onus is on concerned citizens to prove that the private business has overstepped its bounds by infringing upon the rights of others.

Now of course this is an oversimplifaction of a very complex world. Businessmen do have to measure up to local ordinances and codes (the onus being on them in such a case) and government is fully entitled to act when the interests of citizens are threatened (police and fire spring to mind). But hopefully the above monologue helps readers to better understand why I, and surely others, are reluctant to view big business as the villain and government as the savior, and American Indians as the perennial victims.

Two Griefs Observed (Here There Bee Spoilers)

Having finished the Thesis this May time, I found myself burned out on academia.  The hours spent pouring over texts for the right passage to fill out a page, the books rushed through in search of a sentence with which to complete a footnote to justify my own observation.  And in those pages, the sight of erudition and excellence that seemed to mock my own feeble attempts at contributing to millennia of accumulated knowledge.  I was tired.  I needed a break.

But the opiate offered through repetitions of favorite video games and Netflix marathons wore out its welcome remarkably swiftly, so that before long I found myself drained of even the desire to be unashamedly distracted from the strenuous labors of applied thought.  My imagination burned.  Yet the idea of cracking the cover to almost any of my multitude of books (which library continued to grow with each ill-advised essay into Barnes and Noble) cowed my transitory ambition.  Though I purchased books with fervent devotion, I could not bring myself to read any of them.  In a moment of horror, found myself becoming the sort of man whom CS Lewis describes as liking the idea of books, yet never reading any in his vast collection.

So naturally, it was to Lewis that I turned for salvation.  His wit and humor would entertain my fleeting fancy, but that same wit coupled with his customary genius for explaining profound truths about which no reader has even considered to think would spur on my much-exhausted academic faculties.  Accordingly, upon my succeeding pilgrimage to B&N, I picked up a copy of CS Lewis: The Signature Classics anthology.  My expectations were not disappointed, and it was with a profound sense of relief and growing excitement that I blitzed through Mere Christianity (fittingly, the first entry) and The Great Divorce.  

That concluded my summer, and so rejuvenated, I tackled my academic duties as an instructor with renewed vigor, though the increase of busywork started to drag at my mind once more, inciting a return to the mindless rambles in place of more challenging exploration amongst my bookshelves.

That is when I discovered Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell.  The BBC dramatization appeared in my Netflix queue, and I recognized the title at once as a book highly recommended by a good friend. Intrigued, I committed to the pilot episode over dinner, and by the end of the weekend had completed the series.  The premise is elegant and unique - a pair of Regency era magicians seeking to research and restore English magic during the Napoleonic Wars.  But what I found most delightful was the academic element so strongly portrayed through their dialogues and intrigues.  Here we see two well-spoken scholars (philosophers, even) engaging in wars of words over the nature and purpose of fairies, witchcraft, and superstition - treating it with all the care and devotion of real professors at my university.  Listening to Norrell wax eloquent on the proper use of magic among gentlemen sounded uncannily true to the spontaneous lectures delivered by my professors on the care and nurturing of proper history for the modern man.  I was enchanted.  My imagination burst into flame.  I wanted to read again, to write, to delve into my shelves with all the boyish glee of Jonathan Strange.

Once more, I returned to CS Lewis for inspiration.  If I am to truly learn, I told myself, If I am to produce something of value, then I must seek after deeper thoughts with constancy and devotion.  Much like studying the Bible.  But like the study of Scripture, it is not advised to tackle Predestination when one has but a shaky grasp of the Eucharist, or even a vague memory of having mastered the subject.  So as a warmup I selected the shortest Lewis text in my possession.  And it is in A Grief Observed that I met a Lewis most unexpected.

Until this evening I had only the shakiest notion that "Jack" had ever married, or ever loved a woman deeply (much as he writes - even self-consciously - on the topic).  Yet within those pages I found a lover bereft of half his soul, his own the grief to be observed and analyzed.  What struck me was the haste and passion with which it is written, and the ever-present threat of raving incoherence.  Lewis is always so careful, so precise and perfect that the certain perfection of it all is part of the thrill.  But here Jack appears, dashing off wild thoughts almost as they come to mind, yet all following a studied course, as though his surgically accurate mind could not help itself.  It is jarring, breath-taking, raw.  There is a real sort of fear that in reading one has become a voyeur.

In describing his wife, Jack once more puts into words what mere mortals fail to dare considering.  She is the very soul of remarkable, the final word in Godly feminism, at home in her own skin and utterly unexpected at every turn.  She is Eve to Jack's Adam; she completes him in ways he never dreamed, and daily could not expect.  In an odd way, this is the sort of relationship enjoyed by

Jonathan Strange and his wife, Arabella.  Though attracted to her at the beginning of the narrative, Jonathan's devotion looks more like that of a puppy than a mature man's.  But as his responsibilities increase, through war and dedication to his occupation as a practicing magician, Jonathan comes to see Arabella as the joy that he did not know he'd been missing.  She is the last word about good wives: supportive and expectant, frank and instructive, unafraid to give voice to her opinions, while unashamed of her fears.  Her attentions do not bring Jonathan to heel, but spark in him the desire to be a husband, to put aside his own puerile dreams with manful resolution when he confronts the reality that they threaten Arabella's happiness - even when she has already come to peace with them.  It is a refreshing break from the usual tripe peddled by contemporary media, of the bumbling or overbearing husband needing a good education from his sensible and sassy wife, or the frivolous and domineering wife who can't bring herself to love a meek and cringing husband.  The pure and unabashed love shared between Jonathan and Arabella is a thing of truly wondrous beauty.

All of this irrevocably changes when Arabella apparently dies of exposure to the winter chill.  At first, Jonathan's native flippancy reasserts itself as he forlornly tells himself that he, the King's Magician, can restore her to life.  This, however, does not transpire due to the fact that Arabella is not really dead.  But what follows is not resignation on Jonathan's part, but an intensified desire to find a way, any way, to revive his beloved, even once she's buried.  He engages in world travel, studies black magic, and even induces his own fits of madness.  It bears some resemblance to the sort of frustrated passion expressed by Jack in A Grief Observed.

Yet here is the difference: Jonathan's quest to reunite with his love is an adventure, and a fictional one.  His grief is a vehicle that drives him far beyond the stifling confines of his teacher's academic limitations, to challenge ancient powers and in the end save Arabella from a fate yet worse than death.  Jack had no such hope.  He had only the assurances of Scripture and the love of his friends to assuage his pain.  And in his erudite way he brutally analyzes the future.  Will he see her again?  Is it possible to have again what they had before?  If she is no longer a body, yet is outside time as all spirits are outside time, can she properly exist in the way that humans comprehend existence?  Indeed, did she ever exist at all?

How to Dungeon like Star Lord

I really think that "dungeon" should be a verb

Another shameless plug

And the new webcomic is proceeding apace...
http://witnesswork.blogspot.com/2016/04/so-text-came-out-blurry-it-says-what-on.html

New post over at Witness Works - rough of Page 001 of a project that I've had in mind for some time.  Stay tuned.