A Pope of hope

**As a born again atheist, I have less than little regard for the theology of the Catholic - or any - church. A church can do good without having any theology because doing good is an end in itself. It's what people do, not what they profess, that matters.

That's why I am impressed with the the Catholic Church's latest Pope. When I saw this report, cited in my Twitter feed from ThinkProgress.org, I knew I had to say something about it. The story is about how Pope Francis "Sneaks out of the Vatican at Night to Serve the Homeless." He is accompanied by his "almoner," the guy who hands out the papal charity. And he doesn't do this with a press release and a gaggle of media. Instead he goes out dressed as an ordinary priest and just walks the Christian walk.

Can it be that the Catholic church will finally do what no leader of any institution has done: show the world by example what it means to be a caring human being? Will the power of the huge institution of the Church force the hands of those hypocrites who profess to be followers of Jesus while rejoicing in the their worldly accomplishments. Tellingly, Francis has said:

How can it be that it is not a news item when an elderly homeless person dies of exposure, but it is news when the stock market loses two points?

The answer is that the Christian Right, and the Right in general in this country, makes up the obstructionist faction known as the Republican party. The "party of business" is also the party of religious hypocrisy, the lapdog of the 1%, enemies of women and the largest constituent of Faux News' audience. This is not to say that some on the Left are not like them - many are liberals in name only. But at least the Left aspires to the the ideals that the Pope demonstrates in daily life. The Right, on the other hand, screams about "small government," while insisting that government stick its nose and other probes into the bodies of women; that jails pot smokers for years while letting politicians off for smoking crack; that cuts off aid to poor people while awarding bonuses and tax breaks to the very institutions whose greed oppresses poor people and wrecks the economy.

For over 30 years I was a loyal member of the Christian Science church, a bastion of the kind of hypocrisy that Pope Francis repudiates. Though I never acquired the Republican attitude, I and a few other Liberals had to sneak out of the church to do what seemed the Christian thing to do in the style of this Pope. If not always overtly political, the leaders of the church at that time were mostly of the Republican mind set. They were fond of describing their form of charity as above the messy materialism of ordinary do-gooders because they worked in the realm of thought where "knowing the truth" meant convincing yourself that nobody was really poor, or sick or oppressed. This easy cop-out enabled them to appear charitable because they doled out some of their money to charitable causes. But you would never find them at a homeless shelter or in a soup kitchen or in a hospital or jail. And more than a few church members adopted the attitude that they needn't contribute filthy lucre because they gave all their charity to their own church.

For the sake of the world I do hope this Pope manages to stay alive long enough to turn Catholics - and especially my right-wing-nut relatives - into more genuine Christians who will join a revolution that restores democracy in the world. It will take a long time, but I hope the transformation has enough time to develop into a potent force. This is not merely a tentative hope on my part, but a reasonable doubt, especially if the Church starts to lose lots of members because of him. The last Pope who tried to restore humanity to the Church, John Paul 1, managed to die mysteriously, to be replaced with more typical leaders.

Moosical - the beginning

**

Here's the first installment of the video version of the previously mentioned musical in defense of a free and open Internet. Get the whole story and 17 songs at www.themoosical.com

At my age, "Why a Moosical…?"

**I take great pleasure in and gratitude for two young people who are living with us for a few weeks. Grandson and his girlfriend are in their mid-twenties and have been luxuriating in the freedom to travel the world. Having spent the summer in Australia and New Zealand they are on their way back to Detroit, which seems to be a kind of staging ground for their next set of adventures. Because of scheduling problems they were not able to spend these  last few weeks in Hawaii as planned, and sought a mainland alternative. Quite a downgrade, from Hawaii to here, but the timing couldn't have been better. They arrived the week I went into the hospital. My Friend and Producer (more later) and I had planned to spend four or five days alone together here to work out some of the major issues about the Moosical (more later), while Wife traveled to NYC to help nanny the kid of a friend's daughter. Would have been a nice arrangement. But the day before she was to leave, Wife ordered me to the ER, whence began that series of scary adventures that have left me sitting quietly at home typing, while my body tries to recover from the ordeal (see previous post).

Friend/Producer arrived the day I was released from ICU and we spent a couple of days working in a limited fashion. That's when the nosebleed part of the saga began (see previous post.) F/P's wife arrived on schedule midweek and somehow we managed to get work done. Including downing a couple of glasses of heart-healthy red wine.

Since their departure, grandson and grandgirlfriend arrived to take up the guest room, and to supply what feels like 4-star Celebrity Rehab Spa service. This has taken some burden off of Wife, who has been quite stressed, but competent, throughout. They prepare mostly veggie cuisine, which in conjunction with the "heart healthy" low-sodium/fat/fluid/flavor diet the docs put me on, has been nutritionally adequate. (I'm resigned to being a non-foodie from now on.) They walk with me on my somewhat slower excursions, and talk with me about everything from video games to the details of the Moosical (still coming), and and even manage to spend some quality time with each other, it seems, enjoying our patio against the often salty backdrop of duffers golfing away their retirement years. Grandson has even recorded a few bits for the Moosical (story begins now).

www.themoosical.com

In 2009, my Friend/Producer, upon learning of my songwriting passions, urged me to write a musical based on the seemingly abstract premise of the "net neutrality" debate. I've put up a placeholder website that explains some of the issues and presents the songs I've written (18 so far). The subtitle is "In Defense of a Free and Open Internet."

After lying dormant for a few more years, the project was reopened when friend came for a visit in 2012. We wrote more songs and continued thinking about how to design the project. This is when my "Friend" added the role of "Producer" to our relationship. With his strong guidance I've been able to keep on track and the project has blossomed into a full-time job (my retail job functioning basically as hobby and social therapy.)

This post initially addressed the issue of "Why a Moosical" for someone who if lucky, will be 73 years of age this December. All the other people in my age group, and even younger people within the family, have graduated to being grand-things. Some even go the travel route, and some even play golf . I, on the other hand, between visits to the various tentacles of the medical establishment, claw my way to my studio to write, produce and edit these songs; maintain the website; discuss the project with F/P and graphic artist (from Scotland); and embark on creating an animated video of the program. Sometimes I am too tired to do very much, so I write things like this, which don't take much energy but do use up the time.

I don't easily slide into grand-thing roles. My kids and grandkids live thousands of miles away and their visits are few and far between, though most manage to stay in touch via the media. I have no social life. Most of my neighbors appear to be Republicans (at least they frequently fly their flags for no apparent reason). And most of the friends I had when I was in the good graces of the Church are distant and mostly silent. My part-time work life keeps me in touch with general, if upscale, humanity, and I enjoy most of my co-workers, half of whom are younger than grandson. If my body wouldn't keep failing me, I'd consider myself a happy person, doing what he loves with greater involvement than ever. This passion had to be kept in abeyance all those years I was trying to live the idealistic life of a devoted religionist, practitioner and teacher -- ascending the scale of the Mother Church hierarchy. Being a big fish in a small pond seemed sufficient, especially in light of the ideals of being a magical healer and inspiration to others. But I now see that it was the exact opposite of what I believed was my motivation. It was mostly for fame and "success." Unfortunately fame took the form of notoriety after the tragic and needless death of a friend's 11-year old boy who was placed under my deluded "care." And success came in the form of being booted out of the church headquarters for being on the wrong side of a political issue. Success, in that it landed me here within a few months and this phase of my life began.

It's the only life I feel I have left, and as of a few weeks ago, it seems shorter than I ever imagined.

So, again, why do I work so assiduously on this odd little "Moosical?" Mostly because it allows me to use the resources I already have (talent, tools, experience) and continually add to my store of knowledge and expertise by learning to master in some degree whatever new thing stands as an obstacle to progress on the project.

This is my notion of "living:" continual learning, acquisition of vision and expertise, production of something worth leaving behind. That's called "Legacy." Since I can't take it with me, it should be something worth leaving behind for other people to examine and use if and as they see fit. There's no "heaven," no afterlife, no more to my story. I know this is it, have known it for some time. But the swift kick in the chest of mortality has made me a possessed man. Sorry if I'm not a good grand-thing. Sorry if I'm not a good neighbor. Sorry if I've become less than what others might have expected of me. Sorry if I'm not the best husband and father one might wish for. I work on a crazy "Moosical" because no one else could or would. Because when I finish any part of it, I have the satisfaction of knowing that something now exists in the universe that wasn't there before.

Small potatoes to be sure. Others are known for their great compassion, patience, generosity and unselfishness. And these are worthy ideals to strive for, Wife being the supreme example among them. But I'm finally having to admit that my body is older now than it was ever designed to be and that I may be only one little mistake or twist of fate or unrealized technological improvement away from being dead and gone. No one will have me as tangibly as this silly little Moosical and dozens of other songs I've managed to introduce into the universe since leaving the thrall of religion.

Call me Lazarus…

**The trouble with explaining near-death experiences is that they're so much like other experiences. We've all felt faint, had fantastic dreams, been knocked unconscious or had limbs fall "asleep." NDEs can feel like some combination of these. And that's because they all involve more or less the brain's sensory apparatus, which is susceptible of all kinds of tricks rendering unreality "seemingly" real.

From what I've been told, there was a moment recently when my heart stopped pumping. It was the moment a surgeon threaded a tiny catheter, a long wire inserted in an artery in the groin, into a a main artery feeding the heart. The opening was at the time 99% occluded, meaning it was only 1% of its normal size. This apparently had been causing me some problems with chest pain and shortness of breath because the heart itself was not getting enough oxygen. The introduction of even the tiny catheter into this space produced a 100% blockage, which caused the heart to shut down, its lifeblood literally choked off. Mind you, this is only my very ignorant layman's interpretation of what I've been told, but as far as "near-death" this was as close as I've ever come.

When all the alarms went off, apparently the crew switched to resuscitation mode and eventually brought me around sufficiently to continue with the installation of three stents.

These tiny metal mesh tubes prop open the artery so that blood can flow through normally. I was flushed with a powerful diuretic, so much so that the only thing I can remember of the experience is that of drowning. Nurses in the ICU told me that my color was completely grey when I was wheeled in. There was so much diuretic that I voided over 5 liters of urine in the next 24 hours. And there was still fluid in my lungs, prolonging the experience of drowning and suffocation over the next few days that I could not get to sleep. More diuretics were prescribed and the problem eventually eased up enough for me to get some sleep.

The serious part of this experience came only a few days after leaving the ICU. Apparently, I had a susceptibility to nose bleeds in my left nasal area. When one has the kind of coronary procedure I had, powerful blood thinners help to keep the body from attacking the stents and forming clots. The problem with this of course, is that blood can no longer clot normally. In other words, a "normal" nosebleed turns into a life-threatening torrent of blood that takes extraordinary measures to stop. Three trips to the ER managed to stem the tide, for awhile but the solutions were all temporary -- and ugly. I had a bloody plug protruding from my left nostril for several days. I was sent to an ENT who introduced exquisitely painful cautery and inflatable nasal tampon.

This involved shoving a tool into my nose, around the septum and into the sinus cavity whereupon it "burned" the susceptible blood vessels causing them to scar up and thereby strengthen the area from further breakages. Then a long nasal tampon shoved into the area and inflated so as to form a strong compress against the blood vessels that had been rupturing. Aside from the area being naturally sensitive to pressure and burning, the expanded plug generated much more pain as it worked to allow the affected vessels to heal. This remained in place for five days. Five days of headaches so bad that a strong painkiller had to be used every 4-6 hours just so I wouldn't scream. (It also helped me get a little bit of sleep.) It also produced a shiny dark red "tusk" of hardened fabric that protruded from my nose like a killer booger. After the five days the object was removed and I got a few minutes of relief as I breathed normally for the first time in a week. But that pleasure was soon thwarted in favor of more precautionary measures to ensure that the area wold heal strongly and not be the site of future catastrophic nose bleeds. Yet another fabric object was insisted far up into the sinus, coated with some kind of coagulant gel, and I was asked to live with the resulting pain for another five days. Today promises to be another bright one as I have the last of these invasive object removed. My strength has been coming back and my spirits have brightened since I haven't had to take the painkillers. I can finally sit down at a keyboard and type up these even-now-receding memories of what is has been like being a heart patient for the first time, and a near-death survivor.

To be sure, there's nothing "spiritual" about this experience, either the dying or the recovery. Ten or fifteen years ago these techniques were unknown and people died quickly. Only the relentless pursuit of knowledge led to this kind of healing. All the breathing techniques, herbal teas and goop, all the positive thinking and prayers cannot substitute for this plodding path of progress. I still have people telling me I am in their prayers, that they are praying for my recovery. I don't have the heart to tell them that their prayers affect only themselves, make them feel there is some larger force acting on their requests. I don't have the heart to tell them that if prayer were such a potent tool, it should have been used BEFORE any of these harrowing events and not after.

It's true, being alone without a big Imaginary Friend in the sky, is not the most ideal world one can imagine. That kind of idealism belongs to fools who attribute their great luck to it. But it is the real world, and for all their many faults, those in the medical profession, have my respect for the relentlessness with which they pursue their chosen art. It's senseless to imagine that there will come a time when all of this concern for health will be obviated by a 100% perfect system. But having lived from the perilous perspective of Christian Science and the "alternative healing" schools of medicine I would rather any dear friend of mine have the best medical care they can find and use "spiritual means," like prayer, as a kind of pain killer and comforting reality distortion field. Any connection between spiritual means and healing is purely conjectural, driven mostly by a pathetic need to affirm one's beliefs in front of others. I'm one of the lucky ones, the very lucky ones. I had the luck of a wife's insistence on checking me into the ER in an era when so many life-saving techniques are available. A brother-in-law who dropped dead a couple weeks after having received a perfect physical exam, wasn't so lucky. Doctors didn't know what to look for twenty years ago. He's dead, fully dead, and I'm alive, though having been momentarily dead, all because of good timing. Two brothers are also alive because of the advancing progress of the medical establishment. One had a bypass several years ago, and the other had a procedure similar to mine (but without the bloody apocalypse).

Again I continue to support the right of anyone to delude themselves with whatever idealistic theories give them any comfort. What I don't want is anyone suggesting that if I took up their delusions I'd be more lucky than I am.

What friends they have in Jesuses

** As I'm about to read Reza Aslan's latest book, "Zealot," I go in armed with Harry T. Cook's latest essay in which he says:

Aslan may be right about a Jesus having been a zealous revolutionary. Crossan is almost surely right about a Jesus being, as he put it, a "Mediterranean Jewish peasant" who may have been at the same time an "itinerant sage." The liberation theology people may be right in saying that a Jesus was a socialist at heart. And I may be right in saying that the Jesus may be a composite of all of them.

I normally would not have looked into Aslan's book but for a positive review by BW, my atheist friend,  and the rotten treatment he got on Fox "news" by a twit who couldn't get off the subject of a Muslim writing a book about Jesus. His detailed explanation on MSNBC that it was his job as a scholar to write about it didn't faze her but gave him more credibility in my eyes as someone who was not entering into a merely partisan argument.

I don't doubt that someone (probably Paul of Tarsus) cobbled together a mishmash of myths and claims about several guys to form an actual religion out of one guy. It served to construct an empire that continues to this day. Again, the story (true or not) has power.

The New Atheists are, for the most part, illustrating that one needn't believe in fantasies to live a good and useful life. this is a hopeful sign that humanity is evolving out of the need for infantile parental figures to give meaning to this accident of human life.

Religion poisons the world

**Despite some of his political positions, I still agree with Christopher Hitchens that "religion poisons everything." That's not to deny that some religious organizations and some religious people are antidotes to various poisons. But in general, the higher religion is esteemed in a society the worse it is for that society.

Much of the current oppression of women and minorities is impelled by religious dictates based on ancient texts written when cultures were uninformed, paternalistic and misogynistic. That these survive with a segment of the population in 2013 testifies to the tenacity of the irrational side of human nature.

What is now the United States was formed in order to rein in the extremes of religion. Harry T. Cook, still one of my favorite commentators from the "religious" field (because he's not very religious). His most recent essay (available via email subscription) is "An Argument for the Secular State," in which he reviews the inception of American democracy. He cites a response from Jefferson to an inquiry about religious freedom:

Jefferson answered the question thus: Believing with you that religion is a matter which lies solely between Man & his God, that he owes account to none other for his faith or his worship, that the legitimate powers of government reach actions only, & not opinions, I contemplate with sovereign reverence that act of the whole American people which declared that their legislature should "make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof," thus building a wall of separation between Church & State.

And yet he notes that the "present Congress is known for the overtly religious enthusiasms of some of its members." Since these legislators have awesome power to affect vast millons of citizens it's frightening to think of what we might have to live with (and through) if these fanatics hold sway.

Climate-change deniers eagerly support the coal and oil lobbies against the known fact that carbon emissions are poisoning Earth's atmosphere to the point of no return. Why? Because they believe (or say they believe) Yahweh's après-flood promise depicted in Genesis 8:22: While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease. That pious hope is coupled with the earlier Genesis passage -- which those honorable members of Congress take literally -- to the effect that God gave dominion of the Earth to His human creatures, so drill, baby, drill.

Among the other poisons he cites are efforts to pass laws suppressing reproductive rights, and creationism/intelligent design advocates who insist that "the biblical story of creation is fact and therefore 'in all fairness' must be taught in the nation's public schools as long as modern science is taught."

It's not "fair" to ingest a certain amount of poison when you have the opportunity to exclude it. And using the dictates of an invisible and unproven deity to force it on the public mind and body is suicidal for any society, especially one built on the premise that such tyranny should not be allowed.

He concludes with a restatement of that wise maxim: "freedom of religion must logically include freedom from religion."

Fortunately (unless it's too late) the rising generation of millennials is not so dogmatic and seems less susceptible to the arguments for a religious state.

Unbelievable

***One of my favorite bloggers is Harry T. Cook. I've been receiving his essays by email for several years now, on the recommendation of a friend of mine who is also a former religionist. What I like about Harry is that despite decades of education and faithful practice as an Episcopalian priest he eventually came to the realization that religion as mostly BS. I don't agree with him completely in that I would go further and call it poison.

In a recent essay, "Believing, We Do Not Believe, he begins with

    "Among the many readers of these essays are a number of older, mostly retired members of the clergy. They are Roman Catholics, Episcopalians, Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, several rabbis [former Christian Scientists like me] and others who can no longer identify fully -- if at all -- with their religious pasts."

 ...
    A few of them have become convinced that, for example, most of the Bible is pure myth. I think they are wrong about that, but the point is that they had to deal with biblical passages for their whole ordained ministry and evidently felt constrained to treat many of them more or less as historical reportage. Some of them express relief at no longer having to put on such an act week after week.

Speaking from experience I can say that the acting doesn't come on suddenly. It accrues over many years, and for too many years before the spell is broken life is more or less an agony as the disparity between profession and understanding becomes wider.

I'm one of those who have concluded that the Bible is mostly a pack of myths, propaganda and outright lies. What isn't in those categories is pretty good, but doesn't need the Bible or theistic agencies to give them credibility. They are constituents of what might be called secular humanism in drag. As the billboards say: we don't need a god in order to be good.

Harry goes on to recommend a book by Elaine Pagels, which I have read, where she cites an experience she had walking into a church during the depths of her faith crisis. Even though she had known that church doctrines were unsupported by science or reason, she "fell in love" with that church. I think the import of his statement is that the church provided something essential to her as a human being, a kind of comfort that helps some people bear up under their disillusionments. I have heard this also from many others who claim that the true value of religion, and its churches, is to provide that comfort regardless of the challenges life presents them.

Just as most drugs have various degrees of negative side effects, the drug of religious comfort has costs to the believer. Those costs are too high for some of us, while others struggle to bear up. Regardless, the problem is that religion always wants to point to a deific source for that comfort instead of recognizing that human nature is complex and susceptible to many influences. So many of the recent studies on the brain illustrate that susceptibility and the wide range of influences —  none of them deific. To some of us, the blatant unreasonableness of spiritual concepts is untenable, to the point of causing extreme anxiety and bizarre behavior. Maybe stalwarts like Cook can stand being in the same room with believers and their proclamations. I can't.

As I've stated before, it's not that I have found an exact replacement for the drug-induced comfort of religion. Indeed, I would have to say that the pains of living without that drug are sometimes overwhelming.

Recently I attended a funeral for a dear friend of mine. The service was held in the Unitarian church that for decades I would see from the parking lot of my Christian Science church directly across the street. Sometimes I'd deride that sect for being wishy-washy for having no real god to believe in. And yet, my recent experience at that church, and my contact with the pastor, were so comforting that I said to her: In another context this would be the church I would attend because it provides comfort without exacting a profession of faith in an unreal supernatural being.

As a person of reason I can't bear the hypocrisy of eloquence in defense of bullshit, which I think was one of my special talents during those personal Dark Ages. These days, this blog is my main antidote to the poison I spread for 30+ years as a Christian Scientist. I really don't want another platform from which to rail against religion. I don't have time for it at my age. And besides, religion is doing a very good job of poisoning itself.

I like Harry and recommend him to real thinkers both within and without the ranks of religion, spirituality or whatever label applies to belief in things that are unbelievable by nature. But unlike Harry, I would claim to be Unbelieving, We Still Do Not Believe.

Another thing that is passé: handwriting

**I'm taking an online music theory class where the instructor urged me to not use digital tools to do the assignments but to get out manuscript paper and a sharp pencil. It was awful  A mess. And didn't really solve the problem I was having. He said that if I did it often enough I would produce better looking pieces. He compared it to "cursive" handwriting, as though getting more proficient at it would somehow make me a better person. Or something.

At that moment it occurred to me that I have seldom used cursive, or any kind of handwriting, in several years. For the most part anything I do write is in a digital format. Yet, there are lots of scraps of paper cluttering up my desk with my scrawl on them. For the most part they are sticky notes and the "handwriting" is mostly block, non-cursive, letters and numbers. Am I a lesser person for this? No. Am I a better person? No. It's just the way I do things, and I suspect the way many, if not most, people "write" these days.

The last bit of cursive writing I did was about 7 years ago when I took up the practice of stream-of-consciousness journaling. Three pages first thing in the morning, per Julia Cameron. What's most interesting about that experience is that many events and thoughts that were occuring to me at that critical crossroads in my life (I had recenty left the Christian Science church and was coping with the idea of being "retired") got recorded along with random ideas for songs or poems. After that exercise was over - almost a year later – I didn't look at those notebooks for another year or two.

When I finally made my break from all things religious, spiritual or supernatural, I thought about those notebooks and realized they were a unique look into a mind that was in the process of changing. I had no intention of making such a chronicle at the time, just fulfilling an exercise. But it's a treasure trove of verbal snapshots of a mind in flux.

However, the task of just looking at those pages was daunting, almost dizzying. The handwriting was atrocious. How could I extract the nuggets of priceless insights from those notebooks?

Enter Dragon Dicate, or whatever it was called at the time. This speech-to-text application enabled me to read aloud my hen scratchings and they would be transformed into readable printed text (digital). I was able to transcribe many of these notations this way – and I still have more to do to complete the project. But that was the last time I wrote anything extensive in cursive. And probably the last time I will write anything that way.

The point is that technology changes us, not necessarily for the better, but also not necessarily for the worse. Change happens and one of the saddest things for me to see is someone lamenting the passing of an old technology. They forget that there was a time when their canonized technology was itself revolutionary and displaced other mainstream technologies. To me it is the sign of someone acquiescing to death. They seem to be saying: "let me be comfortable as I slowly expire." So far I haven't succumbed to that temptation, though I can feel its pull increasing.

RIP paper books

**Paper books have been pretty much absent from my life for the past five or six years. Before e-readers I regularly used audio books because they were a lot easier to use while on the move. But with e-readers, like my Kindle, I’ve even left audio books behind. Granted they’re not useable in as many situations as audio books, but audio often puts me to sleep and continues playing so that I lose my place. With an ebook I can search the book and recover my place if I should happen to lose it.

Reading on an  iPad is less comfortable than with a Kindle, although the iPad Mini could obviate that difficulty. And iPad books can show color and illustrations better than monochrome ebooks. I like highlighting things I find interesting and you can’t do that with an audio book, and even with a paper book there’s no easy way to compile those notes and highlights. With an ebook, on the other hand, I can not only highlight but I can also make a note, send a correction to the publisher (surprising how many times I have to do that) and get a definition of an unfamiliar word. I also like seeing which passages have been highlighted by others (popular highlights).

Paper books can also give you the illusion that you are amassing a huge vault of information that you can tap into, but in reality that seldom happens with me. I tend not to go back and read old books. And they do pile up around the house (giving the illusion, perhaps, that I’m some kind of intellectual.)

I recently read a paper book for the first time in years (it was a gift.) I can’t say I enjoyed the experience just because I was handling the pages (and glad I didn’t have to shake out the detritus of someone else’s personal life). It takes up as much physical room as my entire library of ebooks. I’ve given away almost all of my paper books (most of which were connected with the religious delusion I was under for several decades), retaining technical manuals and the like that I sometimes need to use for reference. And BTW, I haven’t used a library in decades. They’re just too slow, fussy and never have what I want when I want it. I'm glad they fill the needs of others, but so far a library is just a place to hide out where no one would think of finding me.

So, I’m afraid the paper book industry and those industries that have symbiotic relationships with it, will slide into the dustbin of history, like crystal radios, tube TVs, rotary telephones and other matter-based artifacts. But the need to share information persists, and at the moment, and for the foreseeable future, ebooks and e-readers are the standard.

Not all perspectives are equal

**A response to a friend's blog.

What I’m becoming more convinced of over time is that there is no one “right” perspective. There is no objective fact out there. Even with things like the sun going around the earth, I only know what I’m told.

Gotta disagree with you here. There IS a right perspective, although at any one moment any given individual may not grasp it. But reality is real and everything else is interpretation. That’s what you might call a “perspective.” Anyone can have a “perspective,” and it will be more or less consonant with reality. In the above quoted passage, you immediately say that the “science makes sense to you,” but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that IN FACT the earth rotates around the sun. As someone aptly said, you are entitled to your own opinion, but not to your own facts.

Glad you moved away from dogmatism, but in my opinion you haven’t moved away far enough, otherwise you wouldn’t say that you have an “open-minded view of religion, even of God.” To be truly OPEN-minded, you would need to discern if there is any factual basis for your view. It’s not enough that you have the view, but that it be consonant with facts. True, some “perspectives” provide varying degrees of psychological comfort while reality is having its way with you, but that’s like saying that an anesthetic eliminates the fact of a wound.

When I finally ditched the claptrap of religion I did not feel better. I felt worse. I longed for the drug of belief in a better state of reality. I wrote a song, “Bone On Bone” that alluded to this bereft state. But there is no way to alter reality.  Sure, you can change the way you perceive it. And if a certain “perspective” dulls the pain, then congratulations. But it is still a drug, a barrier between your perception and reality. And nothing makes this more clear than being conscious in an aging body.

How Michael Moore supports the troops - and Facebook supports the oligarchy

**Michael Moore wrote an important article on his Facebook page highlighting the facts that indicate the general hypocrisy of most "support the troops" campaigns. In essence he says that true support would come in the form of not sending our young people into harm's way for political, commercial or egotistical purposes. It's quite an eloquent piece and I'm reprinting it below.

The reason I'm reprinting it word for word is that Facebook has taken his statement down, which seems the height of hypocrisy for a company that purports to "support the troops" who defend inalienable right of free speech as presented in the Bill of Rights. Huffington Post and some others, I expect, continue to make it available but I'm hoping Google, which runs this blogging service – and whose Executive Chairman, Eric Schmidt, is heading for a visit to  North Korea, will not shut this post down also.

In the past 40 years I have not thought of our military as "defending our freedom," but have seen them sent to the slaughter not for any defensive – or defensible – reasons. I wrote and produced a song, Memorial Day (free download), which commemorates the troops, but its point is to celebrate their willingness to suffer harm in case our idiotic leaders should happen to actually respond to a clear threat, which is unlikely.

I know there is a growing movement of Facebookers who will shut down their accounts if this situation isn't resolved in full satisfaction of the First Amendment. I am one of them.

 Here's Mike's article:

I don't support the troops, America, and neither do you. I am tired of the ruse we are playing on these brave citizens in our armed forces. And guess what -- a lot of these soldiers and sailors and airmen and Marines see right through the bullshit of those words, "I support the troops!," spoken by Americans with such false sincerity -- false because our actions don't match our words. These young men and women sign up to risk their very lives to protect us -- and this is what they get in return:

1. They get sent off to wars that have NOTHING to do with defending America or saving our lives. They are used as pawns so that the military-industrial complex can make billions of dollars and the rich here can expand their empire. By "supporting the troops," that means I'm supposed to shut up, don't ask questions, do nothing to stop the madness, and sit by and watch thousands of them die? Well, I've done an awful lot to try and end this. But the only way you can honestly say you support the troops is to work night and day to get them out of these hell holes they've been sent to. And what have I done this week to bring the troops home? Nothing. So if I say "I support the troops," don't believe me -- I clearly don't support the troops because I've got more important things to do today, like return an iPhone that doesn't work and take my car in for a tune up.

2. While the troops we claim to "support" are serving their country, bankers who say they too "support the troops," foreclose on the actual homes of these soldiers and evict their families while they are overseas! Have I gone and stood in front of the sheriff's deputy as he is throwing a military family out of their home? No. And there's your proof that I don't "support the troops," because if I did, I would organize mass sit-ins to block the doors of these homes. Instead, I'm having Chilean sea bass tonight.

3. How many of you who say you "support the troops" have visited a VA hospital to bring aid and comfort to the sick and wounded? I haven't. How many of you have any clue what it's like to deal with the VA? I don't. Therefore, you would be safe to say that I don't "support the troops," and neither do you.

4. Who amongst you big enthusiastic "supporters of the troops" can tell me the approximate number of service women who have been raped while in the military? Answer: 19,000 (mostly) female troops are estimated to be raped or sexually assaulted every year by fellow American troops. What have you or I done to bring these criminals to justice? What's that, you say -- out of sight, out of mind? These women have suffered, and I've done nothing. So don't ever let me get away with telling you I "support the troops" because, sadly, I don't. And neither do you.

5. Help a homeless vet today? How 'bout yesterday? Last week? Last year? Ever? But I thought you "support the troops!"? The number of homeless veterans is staggering -- on any given night, at least 60,000 veterans are sleeping on the streets of the country that proudly "supports the troops." This is disgraceful and shameful, isn't it? And it exposes all those "troop supporters" who always vote against social programs that would help these veterans. Tonight there are at least 12,700 Iraq/Afghanistan veterans homeless and sleeping on the street. I've never lent a helping hand to one of the many vets I've seen sleeping on the street. I can't bear to look, and I walk past them very quickly. That's called not "supporting the troops," which, I guess, I don't -- and neither do you.

6. And you know, the beautiful thing about all this "support" you and I have been giving the troops -- they feel this love and support so much, a record number of them are killing themselves every single week. In fact, there are now more soldiers killing themselves than soldiers being killed in combat (323 suicides in 2012 through November vs. about 210 combat deaths). Yes, you are more likely to die by your own hand in the United States military than by al Qaeda or the Taliban. And an estimated eighteen veterans kill themselves each day, or one in five of all U.S. suicides -- though no one really knows because we don't bother to keep track. Now, that's what I call support! These troops are really feeling the love, people! Lemme hear you say it again: "I support the troops!" Louder! "I SUPPORT THE TROOPS!!" There, that's better. I'm sure they heard us. Don't forget to fly our flag, wear your flag lapel pin, and never, ever let a service member pass you by without saying, "Thank you for your service!" I'm sure that's all they need to keep from putting a bullet in their heads. Do your best to keep your "support" up for the troops because, God knows, I certainly can't any longer.

I don't "support the troops" or any of those other hollow and hypocritical platitudes uttered by Republicans and frightened Democrats. Here's what I do support: I support them coming home. I support them being treated well. I support peace, and I beg any young person reading this who's thinking of joining the armed forces to please reconsider. Our war department has done little to show you they won't recklessly put your young life in harm's way for a cause that has nothing to do with what you signed up for. They will not help you once they've used you and spit you back into society. If you're a woman, they will not protect you from rapists in their ranks. And because you have a conscience and you know right from wrong, you do not want yourself being used to kill civilians in other countries who never did anything to hurt us. We are currently involved in at least a half-dozen military actions around the world. Don't become the next statistic so that General Electric can post another record profit -- while paying no taxes -- taxes that otherwise would be paying for the artificial leg that they've kept you waiting for months to receive.

I support you, and will try to do more to be there for you. And the best way you can support me -- and the ideals our country says it believes in -- is to get out of the military as soon as you can and never look back.

And please, next time some "supporter of the troops" says to you with that concerned look on their face, "I thank you for your service," you have my permission to punch their lights out (figuratively speaking, of course).

(There is something I've done to support the troops -- other than help lead the effort to stop these senseless wars. At the movie theater I run in Michigan, I became the first person in town to institute an affirmative action plan for hiring returning Iraq/Afghanistan vets. I am working to get more businesses in town to join with me in this effort to find jobs for these returning soldiers. I also let all service members in to the movies for free, every day.)

Followup comments from Mike and others, on January 5:

Good news from Facebook tonight! I have heard from Facebook HQ and there will be no removal of my posts or my site because of what I said about how America doesn't really support its troops (and we should just stop saying that we do). There will be no censorship whatsoever. They apologized and feel bad that I received the notice threatening sanctions against my Facebook account. They said it was a big mistake, an error in their protective systems that produced a "false-positive" regarding me. They're sorry and now everything is back to normal. Thank you Facebook, and thanks to all of you who made your feelings known this evening. Within hours, all was well...