Jim Putnam - Thinking Through My Fingers

Further Twisting Intertwined Thoughts

Even as I posted the previous entry I knew that it absolutely required additional thought and, perhaps, explanation.  Thanksgiving morning, after putting my apple pies in the oven, I sat at the breakfast table and made a few notes that, unfortunately in my mind, further complicated the subject.  Now is the time to begin unraveling; to continue the journey.

If God is an omniscient, omni-prescient, omnipotent being apart from ourselves, then it is also a god that I want absolutely noting to do with.  Think about it; that is a god that can make a difference but allows the wrongs of the world to exist.  It can effect change and chooses not to.  That isn't a loving god that Christianity claims.

If, on the other hand, we, humanity, are both god and evil, then religion begins to make sense.  Within humanity lies the capability to affect the changes that alleviate suffering, soothe pain, and comfort the poor.  Religion is the binding together of people of god who are supposed to be doing these works.  That's one possible root of religion - to tie fast.

For me, however, religion is not much more than a gathering together of like minded persons to do all they can to unite, bringing together their separate strengths, to work toward reducing the evil that man does.  It should be immediately obvious that being religious has nothing to do with being spiritual.

Spirituality is more crucial to creating the better world than religion, whether the religion is Christianity, Muslim, Judaism, Buddhism, Hindu, or any other tradition.  And the definition I like best of spirituality is very similar to those I wrote of anarchism, simply a "harmonious condition of society in which government [and religion] is abolished as unnecessary. ... without a coercive state."   And let's face it, religion is, or can too often be, a coercive force.

Why then do I attend a Christian church, and worship with other folk, believing as I do that the God we address is a symbol and not real?  Because I believe that through these folk working together there can be change.  Because the kind of people that are there are the kinds that I enjoy being around is a partial answer.  Because it is important that even though god is a symbol, with symbol as focus people become greater than themselves.

As I re-read all the above, it sounds as if I have all, or at least a lot of, the answers.  I don't, not at all.  There is more that I do not understand than I do.  I believe that there is something that brings additional strength to both individuals, congregations, and even traditions that I don't understand.  I'm not ready to call it god, but I am sure that there is something, and it doesn't bother me that others do assign that strength to god.  I've felt an additional strength in my own life, protecting me, comforting me, and at times challenging me.

Heck, I am not even spiritual.  I have none of that "harmonious condition", and every time throughout my life that I've felt close to achieving some form of spiritual harmony it slipped away, wraith-like and elusive.  I know people who seem to exemplify that harmonious condition, some Christian, more without a religious tradition of any type.

I love the Christian church, the music, some of the rituals, the stories, and in particular with University Presbyterian Church of Chapel Hill, most of the sermons.  They almost always ground me, give me something to add to the mix of my thought processes, regardless of whether I believe in the Christian God.  In that, last Sunday's sermon was successful because it certainly stimulated my thinking.  But as long as God is separate, as in "God will gather ..."; "God promises peacemaking ..."; "... how God sees us ...", I cannot agree.

Intertwined Thoughts

Since Sunday, I've been trying to think of how to express to our Associate Pastor my unease about her Sunday sermon.  This morning, in a completely different discussion, I read these definitions of anarchism:

Chambers' Dictionary (primary definition): "complete absence of law or government; a harmonious condition of society in which government is abolished as unnecessary."

Concise Oxford Dictionary of Politics: "the view that society can and should be organized without a coercive state."

Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy (paraphrasing William Godwin): [Anarchism holds] that government is a corrupting force in society, perpetuating dependence and ignorance, but that it will be rendered increasingly unnecessary and powerless by the gradual spread of knowledge. Politics will be displaced by an enlarged personal morality as truth conquers error and mind subordinates matter."

Another influence on my thoughts was Real Live Preacher's three part story entitled "The Minister's Morgue."  In it, a new concept was introduced to me: The Tertuim Quid.  I highly recommend RLP's blog, and this story is an important reason why.

Perhaps only in my mind would these intertwine in such a way.  Anna, our associate pastor, has chosen a passage that portrays a God that I cannot grasp or understand.  These definitions of Anarchism, though not of a spiritual concept, are much closer to my concept of how one should live a spiritual life, and I've interpreted "The Minister's Morgue" as at least implying that living a spiritual life is a Tertium Quid.

In the passage Anna uses, God is other, separate.  "God will gather ..."; "God promises peacemaking ..."; "... how God sees us ...".  These are qualities of a god outside of ourselves, separate.  Benevolent perhaps, but separate.  This is a concept of God that I find very difficult to understand, or accept.

I believe that a spiritual life is supposed to be a "harmonious condition."  For me, if there is a god, it is best expressed by living in such a state.  In the ideal, neither religion nor government would be necessary.  A personal morality would have each person responsible for himself and for the welfare of others.  Neither religion nor government would require, or have, a coercive state.

As RLP illustrates, living a spiritual life today is a Tertium Quid.  One exists as "some third thing similar to two opposites but distinct from both."  And, as this morning's discussion said, paraphrasing,  each of us should live"..., in principle, the ideal towards which one axis of [spiritual] development should tend. In practice no ideal is ever fully realisable." [My word substitution].

I haven't unravelled the three concepts.  Perhaps I've only twisted them into Gordian knots.  They have given me the pleasure of thinking about concepts I can not ever fully understand.  I hope that they may begin a similar journey for you.

TTMF

Thinking has been missing recently.  Each time I sit at the keyboard, nothing comes through my fingers or anywhere else.  I've been involved in a few small projects, reading, cooking, and have had other small consumers of my time, none of which need much thought.  But there has been no thinking.  This may not be any different.

It isn't because there is nothing to think about.  The stock market has caught a severe case of fear and decided to go south.  The big three automakers arrive in their corporate private jets to beg for our money.  The spectacle of "No Drama Obama" trying to float Senator Clinton as his choice for Secretary of State has been entertaining.

The nation is without leadership.  President AWOL has done it again, disappearing into some sort of shell.  It seems that European leaders shun him.  January 20th can't get here quickly enough, it seems for him, and damn sure for me.

I read an account today about how much time each day President-Elect Obama has been spending at the gym working out.  It seems that I'm not the only blogger that has problems finding something to write about.  That's pitiful, and I just know he gets paid more to write his blog than I am this one.

As we watched the local evening news this evening, Marrianna asked me a question I cannot answer.  One of the local school districts is measuring the diversity of their students by the number of students who qualify for free or reduced cost lunches.  I said that I thought that was a terrible measurement tool.  She asked me what I would use.  I don't know; I just think that is a very poor measurement.  It may measure economic diversity - poorly, but it's possible - but only if economic diversity is the only diversity desired.  But I really don't have an answer to her question.

As I think about it now, there could be an answer.  The national census could help.  It can provide information about average income, race, ethnicity, number of children - the list goes on.  The census gets quite detailed, by zip code, and in some cases even down to address blocks.   A school board can draw its districts for each school using these data and be much more accurate in its diversity.  If the election districts can be designed to provide 'safe' Democrat or Republican districts, surely the school districts can for diversity also.  Just a thought.

Time to close.  I guess I did finally get around to thinking.

"The Story of Edgar Sawtelle"

Yesterday afternoon I closed the book, completed reading but far from through with it.  This book [Wroblewski, David, 2008, Harper Collins] lived up to the back cover's blurb by Stephen King: "I closed the book with that regret readers feel only after experiencing the best stories."  It is, indeed, a book you experience rather than read.

Another blurb on the back cover, this one by Mark Doty, says: "This remarkable hybrid seems like an impossibility: an American Hamlet, both ghost story and melodrama ..." 

My education has not included Hamlet, either through reading or staged.  I cannot, therefore, know whether it succeeds, but it certainly isn't an impossibility as a satisfying blend of ghost story, of dogs, coming of age, and drama.

As I wrote earlier, I read the Prologue in the bookstore where I bought it.  It's a dark beginning, laced with portend for the future.  It set n idea that there was more to the story than it seemed at first.  Wroblewski chooses his words carefully.  For instance, two words and a comma in a short paragraph early in the story, placed against the Prologue, seem darker than perhaps they would have otherwise.  Think of how different the last sentence of this first paragraph would have been without its last comma, following the underlined words.  {emphasis mine}

And John and Mary Sawtelle raised two boys as different from one another as night and day.  One son stayed on the land after Edgar's grandfather retired to town a widower, and the other son left, they thought, for good.

The one who stayed was Edgar's father, Gar Sawtelle.
[page 19]

As dark as the Prologue was, this is definitely not a dark story.  Edgar was born without a voice, but it doesn't keep him from becoming a part of the dog-training team.  He learns sign, increasing its power to meet his own, and the dogs, needs.

"Edgar Sawtelle" is a story of people, dogs, love, and coming of age.  Almondine is Edgar's "best friend" from his playpen and crib, a companion  and a character of the story.  She speaks beautifully through Wroblewski's skillful words.  The dogs have personalities, and two, Tinder and Baboo,  make decisions about their future.

The darkness of the Prologue does return, and Edgar is caught in its web.  The ending is tragic, but appropriate somehow.  The Sawtelle dogs survive, and control their future.

This story will be with me for a long while.  It is a tribute to the story that he is a part of me now.  It's the kind of book that I want to continue.  Edgar and his dogs have much to teach us.

Big Three Bailout

I began writing this post with these two paragraphs.

Though I know nothing to very little about economics or manufacturing, I'm going to jump in here with a few observations about the government providing bailout money to the Big Three automakers.  There are, at least in my way of thinking, several reasons to provide them with funding.  There are an equal number, perhaps more and stronger, arguments for letting them fail.

First, the reasons they should receive help.  Foremost is jobs.  These three companies are the reason a few million jobs exist.  The ripple effect of millions of people losing their jobs is truly too difficult for me to comprehend.  Next most important to me is the manufacturing capacity they represent.  It is vital to the security of our nation that we have a capacity to build things.  It's not possible for a nation to exist as a viable political or social entity solely as an information and service economy.

And then, I realized that I really don't have any business discussing the economics of the bailout.  Take the last sentence of the second paragraph for instance.  It is obviously BS.  There are any number of countries that do not have a base of manufacturing and exist quite well.  They develop other forms of exchange.  The US could do the same.

The Big Three are not the only manufacturers of automobiles and trucks in the United States.  Toyota, Honda, Nissan, VW, even Mercedes, every foreign manufacturer, have plants that build, or at least assemble many of their automobiles in the US.  Even though their sales are down now, they are mostly in black ink and aren't as financially desperate as GM, Ford, or Chrysler.

For me, then, the question becomes, why is this?  What do they do that the Big Three do not?  I've read different reasons, but it seems that labor costs are a major difference.  Unionized plants, and the Big Three are all unionized, cost more to build a car than non.  I'm sure there are other reasons, but this one seems very large.  These costs have to some extent forces emphasis to shift to building the cars and trucks that provide the highest profit margin, and that happens to be the SUV.  It's not so much that GM doesn't want, or know how, to build small cars, but that they lose money doing so.  And when the SUV became a pariah in high gasoline cost times, GM and the others were trapped.

To me, it isn't such a bad idea to let the Big Three declare some form of bankrputcy.  I'm not familiar with all the legal implications, but Chapter 11 seems possible.  That would allow them to reorganize.  GM could conceivably return to its roots.  Chevrolet, Cadillac, GMC, and Pontiac could return as separate entities, with new labor contracts.  Whether the UAW would allow this is very unlikely.  And that is scary.

I cannot believe that Big Three management  doesn't want to build automobiles and trucks that the public want, and that are good for the environment.  I think that there are a complex set of circumstances that almost force them to configure themselves as they have.  Therefore, I think that the government should provide some amount of money and influence to allow them to step back and work with the UAW, and their dealers to rethink how best to restructure themselves and build the kinds of vehicles the public will buy and that will allow a profit.  Without this cooperation, I have no hopes that the US automobile makers will survive, nor that they deserve to survive.

Reading "Sawtelle"

Some books sometimes seem more gift than craft, more inspired than planned.  Words chosen seem to fit perfectly; there could be no other word.  In the last of the "Writing About Me" series, I quoted John Updike:

With ominous frequency, I can’t think of the right word. I know there is a word; I can visualize the exact shape it occupies in the jigsaw puzzle of the English language. But the word itself, with its precise edges and unique tint of meaning, hangs on the misty rim of consciousness. [John Updike, "The Writer in Winter", "AARP The Magazine", Nov/Dec, 2008].

For me, that last sentence is beautiful use of language, of word choice perfectly expressing thought.  Updike is a literary giant, with over a half century of labor in the field of words.

Today, I have been reading "The Story of Edgar Sawtelle" [Wroblewski, David, 2008, Harper Collins, New York].  This is his first novel and though I'm less than 50 pages into it, I am very impressed.  Wroblewski uses words with precision, wasting none, every one exactly placed.  They aren't elegant; instead they're simple, straightforward words supporting the story as a two by six supports a floor.

The story has, in these early pages, shown threads yet to be coupled with others, giving a glimpse of depth and texture to follow.  Edgar, in these early pages, is a young boy, born mute, who lives on a farm in northern Wisconsin.  The Prologue has set a scene in Korea that has tones of murder and turmoil.  Edgar's grandfather, John Sawtelle, is familiar with Gregor Mendel's books on heredity.  The threads have grabbed my imagination, and I must stop writing and return to find how they all weave into their portion of the story.

Evening

This morning I wrote a bit about my visit to a bookstore yesterday.  It isn't great, but it was fun to do, and good to be writing again.  In this evening's post, I'm writing two in one day for the first time in a very long time.  The content may not be much, but I'm again glad to be writing.

As I've watched the euphoria over Barack Obama's election and the news media speculation about his transition, cabinet, agenda, and anything else possibly speculated, I've begun to wonder about how basically impatient we are as a nation.  It is undoubtedly true that we are in very serious economic trouble, and certainly Afghanistan, Iraq, and any number of hot spots are important.  But it has been one week and already people are saying that the world cannot be changed, and that we are ensnared in a global economy controlled by corporate giants.

I choose to be a little more optimistic, which is strange to hear myself saying since I've been a proud cynic.  I see it as positive that the role of government has suddenly become important in managing the economy.  It's a good thing that attention is being focused on the automobile big three.  It's probably a good thing to let T. Boone Pickins spout off about natural gas and wind, even though I know that some, perhaps all, of his interest stems from his control of vast amounts of natural gas.

I am glad that John Le Carre is still writing (see this morning's post).   Writers with his skill are needed to illuminate our weaknesses, raising hope that we will put effort into strengthening them.  I'm pleased and comforted that there are artists, photographers, and even quilters creating beauty.

As I drove through our Village this weekend, fall colors were magnificent.  The pond at the village center had seven turtles on the little platform, sunning themselves.  Folk were out with their dogs, throwing sticks and balls for dogs begging them to throw again.  A group of three deer watched us from the side of the road, and after we passed sauntered across.  Artists and crafts people held a sale in one of their homes, and every artist's work seemed to be of hope.  It may have merely been hope for a sale to provide holiday cash, but from this browser's perspective it was from their vision.

Yesterday afternoon we stopped at a local shopping center so that I could buy coffee beans.  I buy my coffee from "Ten Thousand Villages".  Just going into the store gives pleasure.  The colors are bright, and the staff always knowledgeable and friendly.  Naturally, we walked out with several items more than coffee, but that was expected.  The idea of this chain is such a good one, even though I cannot assure anyone that they are living up to their creed.  I believe they are.  For me, the idea that we can help some small business or craft person in villages around the world is important.

It's probable that there is more truth in the global business control of economics and governments than I want to believe.  But if we allow ourselves to become convinced that nothing can change, we are missing chances to make the kinds of difference we say we want so badly.  Our local actions are equally as important as the global market.

This word path has wound through different subjects than I intended when I began.  Serendipity is finding ideas and words where there were none. 

Bits of a Day

Returning to the discipline of writing regularly isn't as easy as I would have thought.  I'm reduced to writing about parts of yesterday.

Marrianna had a doctor's appointment, mid-afternoon.  The office is on the square of Southern Village, a suburb of Chapel Hill.  Southern Village is an interesting concept for a office and shopping complex.  Its center is a large public square, around which are the shops, offices, and a church.  When they first built it we thought it looked sterile and avoided it.  But as it aged, it developed a very vibrant lifestyle, with the square being used for lots of different events.

I dropped Marrianna off at the doctor's office and walked around the square to Market Street Books.  I had been in the bookstore once several years ago, and wasn't really impressed with it at the time.  It seemed to be a bookstore looking for an identity.  Its primary product were maps of, literally, everywhere.  If you wanted a map of almost any nation, or a street map of many cities throughout the world, it was an interesting place.  But, for books, it wasn't satisfying at all.

It has changed.  It is now a co-op of some type, and has dropped most of the maps.  Some North Carolina maps remain, but the majority are gone.  Their little blurb says that children and pets are welcome, and when I entered, the children part was wonderfully evident.  Young children, most with an adult were exploring the store's shelves.  Obviously some reading program had just completed, and there were parents purchasing books.  It was bubbly and noisy with the kids everywhere.  After about ten minutes, they were all gone, and the only people in the place were the manager and me.  I commented to him that I really enjoyed listening to kids, and that the sudden silence somehow seemed somber.

I struck up a conversation with the manager about books we had each recently read.  He had not read "The Art of Racing In the Rain", which I consider one of the best books I've read in a couple of years.  He pointed out a novel to me that he said was very good, especially for a first novel.  It was "The Story of Edgar Sawtelle".

I saw a new book by John LeCarre on the shelf, and said that I was surprised he was still writing.  I thought he may have given up on humanity after his latest two or three books.  We turned this around a bit, and I pulled "A Most Wanted Man" down.  I bought both books.

I sat on one of their comfortable couches and opened "Sawtelle".  I like bookstores with comfortable easy chairs and couches.  I read the Prologue, and asked the guy how it fit in with the story.  He assured me that it did, but that I'd enjoy it better discovering for myself.  It is a strange Prologue.  As I started reading the first chapter my cellphone rang.  Marrianna was ready to go.

In writing this and finding the links, I've discovered that I could have bought either book for less at Borders.  But I am not sorry that I supported a local, independent bookstore.  This is a bookstore I will revisit regularly.

Returning To Regular Blogging

I've not been writing much lately, and worse, I feel guilty about it.  The "Writing
About Me" series came to an end, and I sort of announced that I was going to begin a new one, "People, Places, and Stories".  I wrote one of those, and hit a wall.  I couldn't find within me another to write at all.

As a result, I am going to return to the method the title of this blog names, "Thinking Through My Fingers".  If an idea for P, P, & S , or another WAM, occurs to me, I will write it, but I'm no longer going to concentrate on writing the series. 

The past seven days have been extraordinary.  The palpable joy that has raised our spirits and fueled the flames of hope have changed us in ways that we cannot yet recognize.  I've tried to sit back and watch without getting caught up in it, but have not been very successful.  I can tell myself to hold on, and that nothing has really changed yet, but telling doesn't do much good.

Nothing has changed yet.  And it is that word "yet" that interests me, because I know that the expectation of change will become real.  The sweep of exuberance will subside to confidence.  Confidence will enable sleeves to be rolled up and the work of implementing the change begin.  To plagiarize Obama, "yes, we can" bring forth the change so badly needed.

President-elect Obama

We have turned a corner in progress of our nation's humanity.  We have selected a black man to lead us through the next four years, and in doing so have changed the world in slight ways.  I heard on MSNBC this evening that six of ten babies born in Sierra Leone today were given the name Barack Obama.  To me, that's as interesting as hearing pundits discussing the election.

The road we have turned on to isn't clear of obstacles, and it can surely be slow, but it does bring us closer to the ideal that we would like to think of ourselves.  But we haven't gotten there yet.

The group of friends we call RC13 today had a brief discussion about how certain parts of the nation are receiving this election.  I was asked how the section of North Carolina I live was concerning the election.  I wrote, eliminating portions I deem private:

I'm still trying to gauge how it is around here.  This is honestly a unique area.  North Carolina was just called for Obama today.  There are just over 13,000 votes separating them, so it was close.  But Chapel Hill and the Research Triangle Park aren't exactly representative of the state, and Fearrington Village even less so.  From what I've seen and heard, Obama was a large favorite here, though Marrianna and I talked to one guy today who expressed real concern that Obama won.

The south is changing, and has been for a while.   ...  I'm beginning to believe it is slowly aligning along a cultural divide that unfortunately remains closely associated with race, and that may just be another way of saying race.   In many instances, it seems to me that whites are saying that if you act and dress like me, I'll accept you, but if you don't, you remain a second, or third class citizen.  

... In this retiree village of Fearrington, lights were on in many homes as us older folk stayed up late to see history.

I've emphasized the bold sentence because after much thought since writing it, I believe it is the most important.  Perhaps we have turned that corner on race, but have yet to understand that cultural differences remain separators.  And I don't know when, or to a lesser extent if, we will turn that corner.

Would Barack Obama have been elected if he regularly wore a dashiki?  I think not.  But is the man in a suit any more intelligent or capable that a man in a dashiki?  Would he have been elected if his oratorical skills were interspersed with street language?  No.  In fact, these images, that he is not like us, were the base of some opposition ads.  We accepted that he is like us in his dress, intelligence, and skills, and so we looked beyond pigmentation.  We didn't for Jesse Jackson.

I think I have calmed myself from the giddiness of watching the crowds in Chicago's Grant Park Tuesday night,  Today's press conference provided solid evidence that the President-elect is in charge and ready to lead us.  I am comfortable knowing that we have elected a very good man.  I'd like to believe that, though know I would not have, I would have seen the same man in a dashiki.