Page 2
NG10-000. The Atheist's Lament.
Pray The One Omnipotent Be,
For Chaos and Woe,
Weigh upon Thee.
E S S A Y S
By The Number
Please note that most of the essays contained in NOUMENOMICON reflect my thinking from ten, twenty, even thirty years ago. Until DRAGONOPOLIS is officially "launched" sometime prior to Spring 2050, all of the compositions available both here and in ASTRONOMICON are raw and presently undergoing rudimentary editing changes. More important than ever, I want to make sure that where I assert something as factual, that it is indeed a fact. And where conjecture or speculation is involved, that they too are made clear, leaving no doubt that opinion, whether informed or purely a guess, is nonetheless an inference only.
Such inferences lead us astray more often than not, away from truth or accuracy. I have a lot to say on the topic of facts versus inferences, much of which I've attempted to incorporate as I review and revise this collection of somewhat random thoughts. The idea is to bring any hidden agendas to the forefront and not play word games that promote one political view while vilifying another. The only real villain in philosophy is the falsification, intentional or otherwise, of the truth, which includes the twin cohorts in crime: embellishment and exaggeration. Truth is often so subjective on its own (but not always) that "statements-of-truth" should never go unquestioned or unproven. In all circumstances where reasonable proof (which has its own unambiguous definition) is not possible, the veracity of comments, opinions, and judgments should be degraded accordingly. The single exception to this is, of course, religious faith. I tackle that a lot in the following pages -- both pro and con.
Anyway, that's a little of where I'll be coming from, as they say. It's a hard standard to sustain, but I'll do my best. And once again if you catch me deviating too far from my chosen path and rudely trespassing onto your own views or values, don't hesitate to let me know. Gently if possible, but since no six-foot invisible rabbits really exist, harsh criticism is also acceptable. By the way, not all my observations are bleak, dismal, and filled with dread. Just most of them (just kidding). No good wannabe philosopher worth his alms, however, can ignore the seeming preponderance of so much hardship in the world. I hope I've found enough light amid the darkness to present a relatively balanced collection of ideas and observations. At least as much as someone a bit unbalanced is capable of.
Such inferences lead us astray more often than not, away from truth or accuracy. I have a lot to say on the topic of facts versus inferences, much of which I've attempted to incorporate as I review and revise this collection of somewhat random thoughts. The idea is to bring any hidden agendas to the forefront and not play word games that promote one political view while vilifying another. The only real villain in philosophy is the falsification, intentional or otherwise, of the truth, which includes the twin cohorts in crime: embellishment and exaggeration. Truth is often so subjective on its own (but not always) that "statements-of-truth" should never go unquestioned or unproven. In all circumstances where reasonable proof (which has its own unambiguous definition) is not possible, the veracity of comments, opinions, and judgments should be degraded accordingly. The single exception to this is, of course, religious faith. I tackle that a lot in the following pages -- both pro and con.
Anyway, that's a little of where I'll be coming from, as they say. It's a hard standard to sustain, but I'll do my best. And once again if you catch me deviating too far from my chosen path and rudely trespassing onto your own views or values, don't hesitate to let me know. Gently if possible, but since no six-foot invisible rabbits really exist, harsh criticism is also acceptable. By the way, not all my observations are bleak, dismal, and filled with dread. Just most of them (just kidding). No good wannabe philosopher worth his alms, however, can ignore the seeming preponderance of so much hardship in the world. I hope I've found enough light amid the darkness to present a relatively balanced collection of ideas and observations. At least as much as someone a bit unbalanced is capable of.
"The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one's real and one's declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish spurting out ink."
-- George Orwell, Politics and the English Language, 1946 *
* By the way, that's the year I was born. In case that's relevant. Which it isn't. Okay, so I may have to change my name to Bob--the squid--Anton. Meanwhile, here's the first of a slew of my essays where I've perhaps slain the language. My aim was largely to slay bad or wrongheaded ideas. Including my own. Some of these are very short and to the point. Others...not so much. My hope is that out of the billions of people on the planet, at least one will read everything that's here. Then again, such a lofty goal might require more than one planet.
On meeting people for the first time. Or the last.
Nowadays it seems as though politics are everything. Political correctness and one's attachment or detachment to it or from it has become an invaluable tool for assessing who's friendly, who's your friend -- and who isn't. Introduce me to anyone and in a matter of moments or minutes, I'll know whether you're liberal, conservative, or generally don't give a damn. My entire response to that person, or further acknowledgement of them, will then be based entirely on their view of the world and politics especially. How sad that it has come to this. Maybe it's always been that way and I was the one who just didn't give a damn. Now I do and it may be too late, for the image that now appears before me is a nation on the brink of a new civil war. I, for one, want to know the color of another person's uniform, whether blue, grey, or oblivious.
Fig. 1. No room in this system for two races bent on conquest.
e1
H.G. REVISITED
As witnesses to the daily activities of life on Earth, sentient, extraterrestrial beings might well conclude that among humans, those who live healthy, prosperous lives are of an altogether different species from their cousins who languish and suffer.
This inference would be based upon the apparent dispassion and lack of concern shown by the former towards the latter. Furthermore when viewing humankind as an integrated whole, observers might also consider that humanity’s chief purpose in life is to live amid deprivation whereby its frenetic populations are subjected to random, premature deaths.
In this respect, humans should be regarded as an extremely successful life form.
This inference would be based upon the apparent dispassion and lack of concern shown by the former towards the latter. Furthermore when viewing humankind as an integrated whole, observers might also consider that humanity’s chief purpose in life is to live amid deprivation whereby its frenetic populations are subjected to random, premature deaths.
In this respect, humans should be regarded as an extremely successful life form.
Fig. 2. And you thought regular pyramids were hard to build.
e2
The CUMULATIVE IMBALANCE
Building Pyramids of Beliefs upon Quicksand.
Premises and Inferences that are False, Incomplete, or Both.
Everything we believe in, all that we believe to be true about the world, whether concerning religion, the sciences, politics, society or about the human community at large, is based upon two fundamental ideas:
A. Opinions. Everybody's got them. And they're all based on our:
B. Beliefs. Commonly referred to as core-value beliefs. Values we hold that cannot be changed. Or are not easily changed.
Furthermore, all opinions and beliefs are built upon:
C. Premises. Essentially the conclusions we've formed about reality, morals, philosophy, and proper behavior.
Last in the process, all premises are supported (sustained) by:
D. Facts and Inferences.
Facts involve bits and pieces of information, the veracity of which derive from empirical, objectively verified observations.
Inferences involve the making of logical assumptions or judgments solely on the basis of circumstantial evidence -- including prior inferences -- rather than via direct observation. A process of rational inference. We infer something to be the case based on presumably correct information whose source cannot be verified as factual in nature.
In both a linear and exponential nature, a theoretical list based on all of the above, looks (sort of) like the following:
PREMISES based on both FACTS and INFERENCES lead to BELIEFS, CONCLUSIONS, and OPINIONS further based on other FACTS and other INFERENCES, that then lead to more PREMISES based on additional FACTS and INFERENCES that lead to . . .
The exact sequence in which one puts all of this together is less important than what the combined total equates to, in terms of one's outlook on life, their overall attitude, and ultimately the actions and behavior that directly result. As you can see, the list is cyclical in nature; it folds back on itself, ending where it begins and generally repeating the process over and over again depending on how many premises are involved.
A disturbing subtlety hidden among the string of interconnected elements, involves the following: The fewer the number of facts, the greater the number of inferences. As we move further from supporting facts and farther into arenas of conjecture and speculation, our conclusions are weakened accordingly. While all of this may seem obvious and little more than plain common sense, most people find it difficult if not impossible to avoid the confusion and traps that arise from long strings of imaginative inferences based on few if any facts. All supported and reinforced by premises and beliefs that were themselves constructed in similar fashion. A vicious circle (and cycle) thus results that feeds upon itself leading us down paths of ever-increasing ignorance, illogical nonsense, and the potential for destructive behaviors.
The following sequence is an example of what is called Non-Aristotelian thinking, the former being a straightforward cause and effect relationship whereby one "truth" provides the basis or rationale for each subsequent truth, so on and so forth. An inherent and undetected flaw in one truth (fact) therefore infects all subsequent truths (supposed facts). The Greek mathematician Aristotle defined the logical manner in which most of us establish premises of belief, deduce what is truthful or factual, and otherwise form conclusions about the world. In the equation below, the sequence is essentially reversed (inductive as opposed to deductive) and instead of a series of steps that, like a pyramid, build towards an eventual conclusion that sits at the very top, it is an examination of the conclusion itself that begins the process:
CONCLUSIONS based on OPINIONS formed by hypotheses and theories based on FACTS and INFERENCES that lead to more CONCLUSIONS based on proven or substantiated hypotheses and theories based on additional FACTS and INFERENCES that lead to . . .
The difference between the two "systems" is fairly dramatic. And one important element is missing altogether from the example above. Can you tell what's been left out? The answer is BELIEFS which are generally defined as absolute truths. In the Non-Aristotelian world, there are no absolutes whatsoever and if the methodology was represented also as a pyramidal structure, it would be turned upside down.
If we consider the topic of slavery as an example, many antebellum Southerners deduced that the practice of keeping slaves was not only logical, but in the best interest of the slave him or herself. An "owner" might be more than capable of arguing the merits of slavery, especially based on the premise (conclusion) that certain races were inferior to others. A belief that Adolf Hitler would take to its ultimate conclusion. Meanwhile many (if not most) abolitionists of the Civil War period knew instinctively that slavery was wrong, immoral, and a blight on civilization itself. They didn't need to rationalize or justify why it was wrong. Their conclusion was only reinforced afterward by the subsequent facts and inferences which validated their intuitive belief in the evils of slavery.
It is apparent then that inductive reasoning can jump to beliefs that, on a pragmatic basis, exist as relative truths which can make the world a better place. On the flip side of this razor-edged coin, however, are religious zealots for whom their absolute truths often define that same world in the harshest of terms. Whereby the abolitionists reached their beliefs based on observations of human suffering, fanatics are counter-intuitive; they are intentionally blind to the misery inflicted via the persecution of non-believers. Fanaticism is further defined as believing the world is composed mostly of facts with very few inferences. Rationalists on the other hand, see the world as containing very few facts and via our imperfect senses, composed almost entirely -- to one degree or another -- of flawed inferences.
Of all the essays I've written and included on this website, this one is probably the most important, poignant, and relevant. I say this because most of my essays express opinions and beliefs about one thing or another, rightly or wrongly. Regardless of the diversity of the subject matter, however, all of my ideas and assertions, accusations and judgments and conclusions, are based upon my own premises of understanding. Such premises form the base principles, concepts, and hardened, core-value beliefs upon which all other thinking is predicated. Think of a tall building, many stories high with lots of floors and levels. Premises then represent the foundation that supports the structure as a whole.
If we use religion as an easy example, the single premise that underlies, reinforces, and perpetuates one's belief in a God is faith. Faith as the very word implies, does not require proof in order to substantiate a skyscraper of beliefs that tower heavenward. Faith is its own authority. Serious problems arise, however, when one's faith is shaken and where doubt is otherwise introduced into the equation. Faith is an example of something absolute in nature. This means it must exist in a state of being that is 100%. No one possesses a religious faith that is 97.5%. Faith is all or nothing. Either 0% or 100%. Any crack or fissure that fractures one's faith, no matter how small the break, is then similar to the children's lullaby, "...down will come baby, cradle and all."
We quickly see an inherent foible connected to absolute beliefs. When the premise that supports them is destroyed, the entire stack of core-value beliefs (truths) that grew from it, all comes tumbling down as well. If the premise played a vital role in one's life, such as a religious faith, the ensuing vacuum is typically traumatic and psychologically devastating. It is why formerly religious people who become agnostics and atheists are generally hostile towards religion in general. And why the devout are often fearful, resentful, and intimidated by those whose ideas and personal revelations can be confusing and threatening to them. As a related aside, most governments are thought to keep secret any and all evidence to do with UFOs and the like. For fear of what is termed "cultural shock", average citizens are spared from learning that humanity is not only inferior to extraterrestrials, but subject to any number of insults and injuries to the founding faiths that make human beings a special, if not sacred presence in the cosmos. The determination that, as Homo sapiens are to insects, advanced extraterrestrials might be to paltry humans, would almost certainly lead to worldwide anarchy.
In a ceaseless attempt to strain Order from a colander filled to the brim with seeming Chaos, human brains seek to make sensible what is largely incomprehensible to them. Forming and adopting premises is how we cope with the apparent discord that surrounds us. Tribes, cities, societies, states, cultures, countries, and nations are all built and sustained by shared premises. Put another way, a society functions as a coherent whole because many of the foundational premises that explain the world in terms of right and wrong, acceptable versus inappropriate behavior, what's moral or immoral, are shared among the citizenry as mutually agreeable beliefs and benefits. In addition, all such core-value ideas are taught to children and reinforced via our educational institutions. That said, the foregoing descriptions represent generalities which apply in only the broadest possible terms.
Perhaps the best example of a premise is a fact. Indeed facts are also a good example of shared premises. Something is only a fact because a large enough group of people have all agreed that something is factual in nature. Enough people in a New Mexico desert agreed on enough things being factual, that well over a hundred-thousand Japanese were instantaneously vaporized, thus bringing a rather climactic end to World War II.
All facts are tantalizingly incomplete. Any one in particular tells us just enough about something that we can then draw secondary, subsequent inferences from them. An inference is a fact once removed, one might say. One must also recognize that all inferences, even just once removed, are inherently flawed in one way or another, no matter how slight that flaw might be. Whereas facts are like faith, meaning they exist at 100% or they don't exist at all, inferences are a dime-a-dozen as they used to say. Virtually an endless number of inferences can be (and are) drawn from a single fact., which itself might be flawed. Inferences are so prevalent and ubiquitous that scientists and philosophers have historically expounded at length about the subject. Entire diagrammatic systems of thought, much of it mathematical, have been devised and written, all of it about inferences and how they operate in terms of degrees, levels, and accuracy.
Premises are conclusions of sorts, which spawn beliefs that lead to opinions; all of which are based on any number of inferences derived from very few facts, if that many. Most precarious (and often dangerous) of all such systems are those that lack any facts whatsoever. Too often conjecture, suspicion, and supposition are presumed to be factual in nature, usually resulting in a mountain of inferences being piled, one layer after the other, atop a foundation that is either entirely false, incomplete, or a mix of truth and fiction. Even under the best of circumstances, meaning a purely factual premise, the inferences made are -- more often than not -- wholly incorrect or a mix of truth and fiction.
Inferences are classified according to orders of ascending, cumulative levels. The term "cumulative imbalance" refers to these escalating levels as abstractions, each of which involves some degree of error. All subsequent (and alleged) facts based upon such errors are cumulatively false and quickly evolve as distortions, misinformation, and misunderstandings -- the ultimate conclusions of which have little or nothing to do with the original premise. In the children's game of "telephone" where the same message is passed from one child to the next, usually in circular fashion, we see a fairly accurate example of how multiple levels of inference invariably alter what initially began as a simple comment. If we picture the teacher starting things off by whispering into the first child's ear, then that particular youngster represents the "first order" of inference. He or she then whispers into the ear of the next child and repeats what the teacher said. In this example, the second kid represents a second order of inference, who will then pass the information on to the third child, the third order, if you will. This process continues until the last child tells the teacher what it was the teacher said to the first youngster in the very beginning. You already know what comes next. Depending on how many children were involved, the last child says something completely different from what the teacher began with. If there were ten kids, then ten orders of inference were in play. Which is ten levels of inference, each of which lost some piece of the original information each time the transfer was made from one child to the next. Sounds like child's play, right? Until you realize how we all play this game all the time, for real, often in total earnest -- and don't even realize we're doing it.
That last part (and don't even realize we're doing it) is the chief reason for this entire essay. If you haven't yet concluded so, it should be rather apparent by now that premises are pretty important parts of our lives and have everything to do with what we think we know -- and our judgments as to what others don't know. Many of us are walking around with ideas and beliefs about the world that are based on shockingly high orders of inference. To once again borrow from our imaginary example of a common children's game, we have no idea that we were possibly the eighty-second child out of eighty-three total who was next to last in revealing to the teacher (or an acquaintance) what was said from the start. Except what you passed along wasn't even close. Now imagine it's not a game, but real life instead. And it's not some silly string of words, but something you don't even question as you hear it and pass it on. It might be a political view, a moral choice or attitude, a religious belief, something of a scientific nature, so on and so forth. Whatever it is, you've decided it sounds right, makes sense, and you now accept it as gospel. Good for you. Or not. Then, if you're lucky, you find out later that you've been duped, hoodwinked as they say. How were you to know the people who told the people who told you, had their facts wrong? You had heard it from a reliable source. Or so you thought. And on and on goes the merry-go-round.
Admittedly a lot of this may sound like plain old common sense. My treatment of the topic may also sound preachy and pedantic. But while that may be true and due to my own verbal clumsiness, most of our lives are nonetheless in shambles when it comes to how organized (or disorganized) we are in our thinking. How consistent we are -- or aren't -- in our beliefs. Many of us have trouble making decisions because our minds our so filled with a combination of facts and falsehoods, that we're just as likely to do something stupid as we are something brilliant. Cleaning up this mental clutter is essential if we truly want to find meaning in the world. Or in the universe. Some simply don't care and find their own way, but usually not without a lot of stumbling as they go. And more often than not, never really learn to run.
In philosophy there is what's known as the Socratic Method of Inquiry. Although Socrates himself may have been a figment of Plato's imagination, one of the intriguing characteristics of Socrates was his ceaseless search for truth and justice. He wanted to understand what it is we think we know about things, and how we came to believe in the things we say we believe in. It's a lot like seeking to define the premises that we've incorporated into our lives, and putting them to the test, so to speak. No one was better at doing this, than Socrates. We're told that he would wander the streets and question people about the things they believed in, what things they thought were true and which were untrue. The whole gamut of a person's beliefs and opinions. I had a learned friend many years ago who was quite skilled at putting a person through the Socratic Method, and guess who volunteered to be questioned? Yup. Mr. Smartypants himself. Yours truly. Or not so truly as it turned out.
I'm here to say that you don't want to undergo this whole Method of Inquiry business. It's embarrassing, enlightening, frustrating, and did I say, embarrassing? By the time my friend was through with me, I was left mumbling to myself, a babbling puddle of illogic, excuses and rationalization. It wasn't pretty. Or fun. But it was insightful. Within a matter of fifteen minutes or so, I discovered that almost everything I thought was true was based either on assumptions that other things were true (for which I had no proof) or on what other people had said was true -- and which I had taken pretty much at face value. The same was also the case when it came to my beliefs and opinions about a whole raft of subjects. Most of my opinions were fraught with inconsistencies, meaning the criteria I used to judge one thing, might change and be different when criticizing another. In most instances, I wasn't even aware of the discrepancies in my thinking. Even worse, the underlying beliefs that gave rise to the opinions I held on almost any and every subject were a hodgepodge mix of what are called situational ethics and amoral values.
At this point in our discussion, it's probably important to distinguish between beliefs and opinions. They are not synonymous terms. As defined earlier, beliefs are more accurately defined as core-value conclusions. This refers to the deepest, most incontrovertible truths that we hold as inviolate no matter what. And of course, such beliefs are based on one or more premises. All our opinions are basically watered-down versions of our beliefs, which can give rise to almost any number of opinions. The real difference between the two is that an opinion is what we think about something. Whereas a belief is what we do about something. That's a big difference. It's an important distinction. Beliefs are kind of like personalized facts while opinions reflect the inferences we draw from them. It's all an intricate, interlocking dance; a system where mechanisms of emotion and intellect propel and reinforce both the things we think about and those we act upon.
In summation, it is critical that we try to understand why we believe the things we do, and in the things we do. And how entire civilizations have both risen and fallen due to widespread opinions which were later inculcated as widespread beliefs.
A. Opinions. Everybody's got them. And they're all based on our:
B. Beliefs. Commonly referred to as core-value beliefs. Values we hold that cannot be changed. Or are not easily changed.
Furthermore, all opinions and beliefs are built upon:
C. Premises. Essentially the conclusions we've formed about reality, morals, philosophy, and proper behavior.
Last in the process, all premises are supported (sustained) by:
D. Facts and Inferences.
Facts involve bits and pieces of information, the veracity of which derive from empirical, objectively verified observations.
Inferences involve the making of logical assumptions or judgments solely on the basis of circumstantial evidence -- including prior inferences -- rather than via direct observation. A process of rational inference. We infer something to be the case based on presumably correct information whose source cannot be verified as factual in nature.
In both a linear and exponential nature, a theoretical list based on all of the above, looks (sort of) like the following:
PREMISES based on both FACTS and INFERENCES lead to BELIEFS, CONCLUSIONS, and OPINIONS further based on other FACTS and other INFERENCES, that then lead to more PREMISES based on additional FACTS and INFERENCES that lead to . . .
The exact sequence in which one puts all of this together is less important than what the combined total equates to, in terms of one's outlook on life, their overall attitude, and ultimately the actions and behavior that directly result. As you can see, the list is cyclical in nature; it folds back on itself, ending where it begins and generally repeating the process over and over again depending on how many premises are involved.
A disturbing subtlety hidden among the string of interconnected elements, involves the following: The fewer the number of facts, the greater the number of inferences. As we move further from supporting facts and farther into arenas of conjecture and speculation, our conclusions are weakened accordingly. While all of this may seem obvious and little more than plain common sense, most people find it difficult if not impossible to avoid the confusion and traps that arise from long strings of imaginative inferences based on few if any facts. All supported and reinforced by premises and beliefs that were themselves constructed in similar fashion. A vicious circle (and cycle) thus results that feeds upon itself leading us down paths of ever-increasing ignorance, illogical nonsense, and the potential for destructive behaviors.
The following sequence is an example of what is called Non-Aristotelian thinking, the former being a straightforward cause and effect relationship whereby one "truth" provides the basis or rationale for each subsequent truth, so on and so forth. An inherent and undetected flaw in one truth (fact) therefore infects all subsequent truths (supposed facts). The Greek mathematician Aristotle defined the logical manner in which most of us establish premises of belief, deduce what is truthful or factual, and otherwise form conclusions about the world. In the equation below, the sequence is essentially reversed (inductive as opposed to deductive) and instead of a series of steps that, like a pyramid, build towards an eventual conclusion that sits at the very top, it is an examination of the conclusion itself that begins the process:
CONCLUSIONS based on OPINIONS formed by hypotheses and theories based on FACTS and INFERENCES that lead to more CONCLUSIONS based on proven or substantiated hypotheses and theories based on additional FACTS and INFERENCES that lead to . . .
The difference between the two "systems" is fairly dramatic. And one important element is missing altogether from the example above. Can you tell what's been left out? The answer is BELIEFS which are generally defined as absolute truths. In the Non-Aristotelian world, there are no absolutes whatsoever and if the methodology was represented also as a pyramidal structure, it would be turned upside down.
If we consider the topic of slavery as an example, many antebellum Southerners deduced that the practice of keeping slaves was not only logical, but in the best interest of the slave him or herself. An "owner" might be more than capable of arguing the merits of slavery, especially based on the premise (conclusion) that certain races were inferior to others. A belief that Adolf Hitler would take to its ultimate conclusion. Meanwhile many (if not most) abolitionists of the Civil War period knew instinctively that slavery was wrong, immoral, and a blight on civilization itself. They didn't need to rationalize or justify why it was wrong. Their conclusion was only reinforced afterward by the subsequent facts and inferences which validated their intuitive belief in the evils of slavery.
It is apparent then that inductive reasoning can jump to beliefs that, on a pragmatic basis, exist as relative truths which can make the world a better place. On the flip side of this razor-edged coin, however, are religious zealots for whom their absolute truths often define that same world in the harshest of terms. Whereby the abolitionists reached their beliefs based on observations of human suffering, fanatics are counter-intuitive; they are intentionally blind to the misery inflicted via the persecution of non-believers. Fanaticism is further defined as believing the world is composed mostly of facts with very few inferences. Rationalists on the other hand, see the world as containing very few facts and via our imperfect senses, composed almost entirely -- to one degree or another -- of flawed inferences.
Of all the essays I've written and included on this website, this one is probably the most important, poignant, and relevant. I say this because most of my essays express opinions and beliefs about one thing or another, rightly or wrongly. Regardless of the diversity of the subject matter, however, all of my ideas and assertions, accusations and judgments and conclusions, are based upon my own premises of understanding. Such premises form the base principles, concepts, and hardened, core-value beliefs upon which all other thinking is predicated. Think of a tall building, many stories high with lots of floors and levels. Premises then represent the foundation that supports the structure as a whole.
If we use religion as an easy example, the single premise that underlies, reinforces, and perpetuates one's belief in a God is faith. Faith as the very word implies, does not require proof in order to substantiate a skyscraper of beliefs that tower heavenward. Faith is its own authority. Serious problems arise, however, when one's faith is shaken and where doubt is otherwise introduced into the equation. Faith is an example of something absolute in nature. This means it must exist in a state of being that is 100%. No one possesses a religious faith that is 97.5%. Faith is all or nothing. Either 0% or 100%. Any crack or fissure that fractures one's faith, no matter how small the break, is then similar to the children's lullaby, "...down will come baby, cradle and all."
We quickly see an inherent foible connected to absolute beliefs. When the premise that supports them is destroyed, the entire stack of core-value beliefs (truths) that grew from it, all comes tumbling down as well. If the premise played a vital role in one's life, such as a religious faith, the ensuing vacuum is typically traumatic and psychologically devastating. It is why formerly religious people who become agnostics and atheists are generally hostile towards religion in general. And why the devout are often fearful, resentful, and intimidated by those whose ideas and personal revelations can be confusing and threatening to them. As a related aside, most governments are thought to keep secret any and all evidence to do with UFOs and the like. For fear of what is termed "cultural shock", average citizens are spared from learning that humanity is not only inferior to extraterrestrials, but subject to any number of insults and injuries to the founding faiths that make human beings a special, if not sacred presence in the cosmos. The determination that, as Homo sapiens are to insects, advanced extraterrestrials might be to paltry humans, would almost certainly lead to worldwide anarchy.
In a ceaseless attempt to strain Order from a colander filled to the brim with seeming Chaos, human brains seek to make sensible what is largely incomprehensible to them. Forming and adopting premises is how we cope with the apparent discord that surrounds us. Tribes, cities, societies, states, cultures, countries, and nations are all built and sustained by shared premises. Put another way, a society functions as a coherent whole because many of the foundational premises that explain the world in terms of right and wrong, acceptable versus inappropriate behavior, what's moral or immoral, are shared among the citizenry as mutually agreeable beliefs and benefits. In addition, all such core-value ideas are taught to children and reinforced via our educational institutions. That said, the foregoing descriptions represent generalities which apply in only the broadest possible terms.
Perhaps the best example of a premise is a fact. Indeed facts are also a good example of shared premises. Something is only a fact because a large enough group of people have all agreed that something is factual in nature. Enough people in a New Mexico desert agreed on enough things being factual, that well over a hundred-thousand Japanese were instantaneously vaporized, thus bringing a rather climactic end to World War II.
All facts are tantalizingly incomplete. Any one in particular tells us just enough about something that we can then draw secondary, subsequent inferences from them. An inference is a fact once removed, one might say. One must also recognize that all inferences, even just once removed, are inherently flawed in one way or another, no matter how slight that flaw might be. Whereas facts are like faith, meaning they exist at 100% or they don't exist at all, inferences are a dime-a-dozen as they used to say. Virtually an endless number of inferences can be (and are) drawn from a single fact., which itself might be flawed. Inferences are so prevalent and ubiquitous that scientists and philosophers have historically expounded at length about the subject. Entire diagrammatic systems of thought, much of it mathematical, have been devised and written, all of it about inferences and how they operate in terms of degrees, levels, and accuracy.
Premises are conclusions of sorts, which spawn beliefs that lead to opinions; all of which are based on any number of inferences derived from very few facts, if that many. Most precarious (and often dangerous) of all such systems are those that lack any facts whatsoever. Too often conjecture, suspicion, and supposition are presumed to be factual in nature, usually resulting in a mountain of inferences being piled, one layer after the other, atop a foundation that is either entirely false, incomplete, or a mix of truth and fiction. Even under the best of circumstances, meaning a purely factual premise, the inferences made are -- more often than not -- wholly incorrect or a mix of truth and fiction.
Inferences are classified according to orders of ascending, cumulative levels. The term "cumulative imbalance" refers to these escalating levels as abstractions, each of which involves some degree of error. All subsequent (and alleged) facts based upon such errors are cumulatively false and quickly evolve as distortions, misinformation, and misunderstandings -- the ultimate conclusions of which have little or nothing to do with the original premise. In the children's game of "telephone" where the same message is passed from one child to the next, usually in circular fashion, we see a fairly accurate example of how multiple levels of inference invariably alter what initially began as a simple comment. If we picture the teacher starting things off by whispering into the first child's ear, then that particular youngster represents the "first order" of inference. He or she then whispers into the ear of the next child and repeats what the teacher said. In this example, the second kid represents a second order of inference, who will then pass the information on to the third child, the third order, if you will. This process continues until the last child tells the teacher what it was the teacher said to the first youngster in the very beginning. You already know what comes next. Depending on how many children were involved, the last child says something completely different from what the teacher began with. If there were ten kids, then ten orders of inference were in play. Which is ten levels of inference, each of which lost some piece of the original information each time the transfer was made from one child to the next. Sounds like child's play, right? Until you realize how we all play this game all the time, for real, often in total earnest -- and don't even realize we're doing it.
That last part (and don't even realize we're doing it) is the chief reason for this entire essay. If you haven't yet concluded so, it should be rather apparent by now that premises are pretty important parts of our lives and have everything to do with what we think we know -- and our judgments as to what others don't know. Many of us are walking around with ideas and beliefs about the world that are based on shockingly high orders of inference. To once again borrow from our imaginary example of a common children's game, we have no idea that we were possibly the eighty-second child out of eighty-three total who was next to last in revealing to the teacher (or an acquaintance) what was said from the start. Except what you passed along wasn't even close. Now imagine it's not a game, but real life instead. And it's not some silly string of words, but something you don't even question as you hear it and pass it on. It might be a political view, a moral choice or attitude, a religious belief, something of a scientific nature, so on and so forth. Whatever it is, you've decided it sounds right, makes sense, and you now accept it as gospel. Good for you. Or not. Then, if you're lucky, you find out later that you've been duped, hoodwinked as they say. How were you to know the people who told the people who told you, had their facts wrong? You had heard it from a reliable source. Or so you thought. And on and on goes the merry-go-round.
Admittedly a lot of this may sound like plain old common sense. My treatment of the topic may also sound preachy and pedantic. But while that may be true and due to my own verbal clumsiness, most of our lives are nonetheless in shambles when it comes to how organized (or disorganized) we are in our thinking. How consistent we are -- or aren't -- in our beliefs. Many of us have trouble making decisions because our minds our so filled with a combination of facts and falsehoods, that we're just as likely to do something stupid as we are something brilliant. Cleaning up this mental clutter is essential if we truly want to find meaning in the world. Or in the universe. Some simply don't care and find their own way, but usually not without a lot of stumbling as they go. And more often than not, never really learn to run.
In philosophy there is what's known as the Socratic Method of Inquiry. Although Socrates himself may have been a figment of Plato's imagination, one of the intriguing characteristics of Socrates was his ceaseless search for truth and justice. He wanted to understand what it is we think we know about things, and how we came to believe in the things we say we believe in. It's a lot like seeking to define the premises that we've incorporated into our lives, and putting them to the test, so to speak. No one was better at doing this, than Socrates. We're told that he would wander the streets and question people about the things they believed in, what things they thought were true and which were untrue. The whole gamut of a person's beliefs and opinions. I had a learned friend many years ago who was quite skilled at putting a person through the Socratic Method, and guess who volunteered to be questioned? Yup. Mr. Smartypants himself. Yours truly. Or not so truly as it turned out.
I'm here to say that you don't want to undergo this whole Method of Inquiry business. It's embarrassing, enlightening, frustrating, and did I say, embarrassing? By the time my friend was through with me, I was left mumbling to myself, a babbling puddle of illogic, excuses and rationalization. It wasn't pretty. Or fun. But it was insightful. Within a matter of fifteen minutes or so, I discovered that almost everything I thought was true was based either on assumptions that other things were true (for which I had no proof) or on what other people had said was true -- and which I had taken pretty much at face value. The same was also the case when it came to my beliefs and opinions about a whole raft of subjects. Most of my opinions were fraught with inconsistencies, meaning the criteria I used to judge one thing, might change and be different when criticizing another. In most instances, I wasn't even aware of the discrepancies in my thinking. Even worse, the underlying beliefs that gave rise to the opinions I held on almost any and every subject were a hodgepodge mix of what are called situational ethics and amoral values.
At this point in our discussion, it's probably important to distinguish between beliefs and opinions. They are not synonymous terms. As defined earlier, beliefs are more accurately defined as core-value conclusions. This refers to the deepest, most incontrovertible truths that we hold as inviolate no matter what. And of course, such beliefs are based on one or more premises. All our opinions are basically watered-down versions of our beliefs, which can give rise to almost any number of opinions. The real difference between the two is that an opinion is what we think about something. Whereas a belief is what we do about something. That's a big difference. It's an important distinction. Beliefs are kind of like personalized facts while opinions reflect the inferences we draw from them. It's all an intricate, interlocking dance; a system where mechanisms of emotion and intellect propel and reinforce both the things we think about and those we act upon.
In summation, it is critical that we try to understand why we believe the things we do, and in the things we do. And how entire civilizations have both risen and fallen due to widespread opinions which were later inculcated as widespread beliefs.
Fig. 3. Elephant and ass holes.
e3
P O L I T I K S
The Worsening Dichotomy between Liberalism and Conservatism
What does it mean to be a liberal? A conservative? Or even a moderate member of any of the other splinter groups and parties that make known their voices and views within the modern political arena. If we distill things down to the basics, the most popular parties currently active in America today are Democrats, Republicans (both establishment and conservative), Libertarians, Independents, and Tea Party activists (constitutional conservatives) also known sometimes as the Alt. Right.
It used to be (and still is somewhat) that any given party or group could always be further divided into three separate factions:
a. Conservatives.
b. Moderates (Centrists).
c. Liberals.
Examples would be: Conservative Democrats or moderate liberals; Moderate Republicans or conservatives; Liberal Republicans and so forth. Liberal Republicans are sometimes called RINOs, a derogatory term meaning "Republican In Name Only". Another oft-heard phraseology that attempts to include both conservative and liberal ideals is the following: "Fiscally conservative, and socially liberal." Most card-carrying conservatives reject such a concept as being meaningless.
Based on one's voting record and other policies supported and advanced, a Democrat might be (generally speaking) considered a conservative Democrat, or a centrist (moderate) or liberal Democrat. This is given that Democrats typically represent the left or liberal wing of congress, and Republicans traditionally symbolize the right or conservative wing of congress. Or some other legislative body, such as state-level representatives. Likewise a Republican might then be labeled as a conservative, moderate, or somewhat liberal. It works both ways, depending on whose voting record and other actions generally lean in a particular direction. The more a Republican sides with Democrats on various issues, the more that senator or House member is considered to be a left-leaning, liberal Republican. When this becomes frequent or habitual, a Republican can be disparaged by his fellow Republicans as a RINO -- a Republican In Name Only. Interestingly, no such labeling exists among Democrats. There's no such thing as a DINO -- or Democrat In Name Only. What typically happens is when a Democrat strays too far from the party line, he or she is shunned, punished, and/or made inconsequential as a political force. Senator Joseph Lieberman is an example of this type of ostracization. Come to think of it, DINO isn't a bad synonym for Democrats of any persuasion. But I digress.
A gradual change has taken place over the years, whereby divisive lines seem more clearly drawn nowadays. And although this might help clarify a politician's stand on various issues, the disappearance of traditional moderation has also widened the gap that prevents compromise and bipartisan cooperation among the different parties. While Democrats have joined forces and ranks, presenting a largely unified front, the Republicans have recently split between the more conservative Tea Party membership, and the more moderate or traditional "establishment" Republicans, including so-called RINO's whose sympathies lie with Democratic moderates, and, on some issues, even with liberals of the opposition party.
But what does it even mean to be a modern liberal? A modern conservative? Moderates in both parties might be likened to the poor souls who are standing atop an earthen chasm which opens under them during a giant earthquake. And moments later, they plummet into the bottomless fissure that swallows anyone not standing far to one side or the other. The only moderates who survive (of either party) are those whose vacillation is both self-serving and of value to their party for one reason or another.
I used to be liberal Democrat. I voted for Bill Clinton and Jesse Jackson. That's pretty liberal. So when did I change and why? Well, I stopped voting altogether prior to Clinton's reelection when it became painfully apparent that voter registration rolls were being used in California to locate and summon people for jury duty. Although I'm strongly opposed to the jury system as it's presently operated, I'll save that essay for another day. Suffice it to say that not until a medical condition allowed me to "escape" from all future summons, did I begin voting again. Meanwhile Bill Clinton had been a disaster as far as I was concerned; that alone got me to wondering. When it turned out that Jesse Jackson had one or more extra-marital affairs, plus a plethora of other indiscretions and inconsistencies, I began to see a definitive pattern evolving. These people were not only lying a lot about all kinds of things, but they were lying all the time about almost everything. I hate liars. It wasn't long before my political observations were little more than deciphering who lied the most, and who the least. That was a good starting point. Silly me always supposed that everyone told lies some of the time, but that generally speaking, when it got right down to it, these high-ranking politicos gave us pretty much the straight scoop (or poop) on most things. So how naive was I? Very, as it turned out. Even more than I could have ever imagined.
Long story short, I gradually discerned that for the most part, Democrats seemed to lie more than Republicans. And I really dislike liars more than I dislike anything. Republicans were full of bluster and accusations, always going on about the U.S. Constitution, states rights and other technical gobbledygook -- none more boisterously than Rush Limbaugh. But compared to Democrats, I wasn't catching these conservative types in too many outright lies per se. I can't give you specific examples; I don't remember what they were, but there were many, and they continued to mount up. So while Democrats were starting to sound and look kind of sleazy and crooked, Republicanism still represented domestic and foreign policies that I found problematic if not totally contrary to my view of the world i.e. my world view. But what really was my global view of things? What were my ideas and beliefs really based on? Could I be wrong about a lot of things? Had I been listening to the wrong people? Well, crap. I say it that way because it became increasingly apparent that if I was going to make sense of things politically, I would have to educate myself more about who was who and what was truly what.
What the hell was so great about this Reagan guy? What was this business about the division between states and the federal government? So-called federalism vs. the Feds, as in federal government. Why was that old scrap of parchment called, the constitution, so all important? Wasn't it a tad outdated and in need of some sprucing up? Almost overnight, the more I learned (or paid attention), the more questions that kept cropping up. I learned it was the Republicans who were largely instrumental in the Civil Rights movement, and not the Democrats. What? It was even Republicans who fought against slavery, and not the Democrats. Now just wait a second. The former president, Woodrow Wilson, a Democrat, was an outright racist who promoted segregation. Who knew? FDR, it turns out, worsened and prolonged the Depression; he didn't end it. And on and on it goes. Next I'll find out that it's only Republicans who represent free enterprise, the right to own private property, lower taxes, state sovereignty and a small, unobtrusive federal government.
As my knowledge of American history continued to grow more enlightened, it seemed more and more like Republicans represented the things I was finding more and more important. I still remember hearing the Democrats accuse the Republicans of trying to invade people's bedrooms and impose their own ideas of morality. I was so ignorant and ill-informed at the time, I had no idea that just the opposite was the case. In actuality, Republicans were fighting against government intrusion into citizens' bedrooms, where federal mandates legalizing abortion, widespread condom use for minors, and other invasions of privacy were somehow within the scope of the federal government. I didn't know that all stuff was in our constitution. It's not, according to Republicans, whose ideas and principles started to sound more and more like things I wanted to investigate and even support. By the time I finally began to truly understand the constitution and the sacred separation between state rights and federal, central government limitations, those dang Republicans had all but won me over. Though truth be known, I was keeping my eye on them. All of them. One slip up and these new guys were toast.
I still had no Republican heroes who I'd support no matter what. The party platform seemed sound enough, but I needed flesh and blood to represent the issues that were growing more important to me by the day. Rush Limbaugh was still ranting about this and that and still leaving me cold because of his ceaseless histrionics. Or what seemed to me at the time, as melodramatics. It wasn't until I stumbled upon some conservative radio host named Mark Levin, a previous adviser to Limbaugh, that my real education began to blossom. Good grief, if this guy was telling the truth, my whole notion of how the world existed and operated politically would have to revised, revamped, rethought and otherwise rebuilt from the ground up -- almost from scratch. Listening to Mark is a lot like going back to school and learning what we missed, or didn't get in the way of an education about how America works and more importantly, how it ought to work. and why. When the dust finally settled, I realized I was not only a conservative, but couldn't be anything else. With the advent of the Tea Party and the people associated with it like Sean Hannity, Sarah Palin, Michelle Malkin, Ted Cruz, Mike Lee and others, I'm more of a generic conservative, a constitutional conservative, and much less of a more typical Republican these days. If the GOP doesn't get its act together and stop thinking of the constitution as so much toilet paper, I'll leave the party altogether and vote strictly as an independent. Libertarians notwithstanding.
Except for the relatively small group of people I have come to trust implicitly as wise, knowledgeable, and whose integrity is beyond reproach, my personal vigilance and skepticism is very much alive and well. I'm reminded of the Depression-era FBI crime fighter, Eliot Ness whose own group was called "The Untouchables". You might recall the popular TV show of the same name. They were called untouchable because these particular cops couldn't be bribed or otherwise bought-off. I think of my private cadre of conservative leaders and commentators as being similar to those men. Not unlike the founders of the country. Where principle and honor trumped all other considerations.
So I finally found my heroes and like headlights shining down a dark alley, things now tend to make a lot more sense lately. It's easy to segregate the villains,creeps, inept crumbs and bums, from the people for whom God and country comes first, and personal enrichment second. Especially empowering is a strong confidence in the reliability and truthfulness of the information one obtains from impeccable, unimpeachable sources. Once that happens, we then have a clear, microscopic lens for scrutinizing the veracity of the statements and positions taken by others, be they friend or foe. As a result, the number of political (and entertainment) figures whom I still respect has dramatically diminished to a precious handful of names.
In the story of the writing of the song, Amazing Grace, the captain of a slave ship experienced an epiphany, as it's called. His mind suddenly awakened to the great Industry of Evil with which he was associated and complicit. In like fashion, I experienced my own epiphany of sorts, coming to know the real history behind the founding of America as a country, and the story of the fathers (and mothers) who, at great personal sacrifice, accomplished the deed. I learned about the U.S. Constitution and why it's as valid today as ever, in no need of revision or updating. So brilliant was the genius of the founders who wrote it. I learned how one thing skillfully and logically blends into another, meaning as our understanding of the Constitution grows, so does our appreciation of the roles of the states compared to the limitations placed on the central government. One realizes that in order to increase the power and influence of an ever stronger federal government, one must invariably disconnect from the meaning and intention of the constitution, thereby distorting, twisting, and perverting the very principles upon which the country was founded -- and has successfully endured for almost 250 years.
Thus when you hear someone advocate for a strong central government that needs to help people and regulate things, that needs to distribute the vast wealth of the nation in such a way that the system is more fair to the less fortunate among us, that health insurance is a right instead of a privilege, that taxation is a blessing and not a curse, and that everyone should share equally in all the benefits this country offers, then that person has distanced themselves from both the founding documents of America, and the credo such instruments delineate. This is fine if that's what somebody prefers, such as a total transformation of the country. Many such persons think the constitution is outdated and no longer applicable to today's complex world. Fine. That's their right to think so. Provided, of course, the position of the individual in question is based on entirely accurate information. For example, a false belief that the constitution somehow allows for a strong federal government that supersedes states' rights in almost every situation. Or that the government can force people to buy health insurance or a certain kind of light bulb, or toilet, or any of a million other things. There's a word for such people: they're called Democrats. They're not actually conservative, moderate, or even liberal. They're just Democrats. Many if not most of whom put love of Party before love of country.
In stark contrast to such thinking, I'm a constitutional "originalist" meaning I think the constitution is the law of the land and should be followed precisely as it's written. Not a single word needs to be changed. Not one. I like it just the way it is. And that translates into a teensy-weensy federal government with extremely limited powers. It means individual states largely dictate their own laws and standards as to how people should live. It means only states say who can get married, who can get abortions, what kind of light bulbs and toilets -- and health insurance -- you can buy. It means the thousands of different federal agencies and their thousands of laws have little or no say over how states run their affairs. The people who supported such ideas used to be called Republicans. Not so much anymore. The party is fractured, leaving mainly staunch conservatives (like moi) to hold the line, so to speak, on what defines both a conservative and a Constitutionalist.
Needless to say, this topic could go on for many more pages. My aim here is much more modest, my intent merely to demonstrate why I consider myself a conservative, and at odds with most others who aren't. I don't expect to change anyone's mind one way or the other, but I hope this sheds some amount of light on what has become an extremely complex situation. Are things truly as simple as I've laid out? Hardly. But these words are designed as a starting point for those who find themselves questioning where they stand on things. More importantly determining or suspecting where others stand, and what others say and do. And figuring out who the liars are and dropping them like hot embers in bare hands.
And likewise embracing those who are spreading the truth around -- instead of other people's wealth.
It used to be (and still is somewhat) that any given party or group could always be further divided into three separate factions:
a. Conservatives.
b. Moderates (Centrists).
c. Liberals.
Examples would be: Conservative Democrats or moderate liberals; Moderate Republicans or conservatives; Liberal Republicans and so forth. Liberal Republicans are sometimes called RINOs, a derogatory term meaning "Republican In Name Only". Another oft-heard phraseology that attempts to include both conservative and liberal ideals is the following: "Fiscally conservative, and socially liberal." Most card-carrying conservatives reject such a concept as being meaningless.
Based on one's voting record and other policies supported and advanced, a Democrat might be (generally speaking) considered a conservative Democrat, or a centrist (moderate) or liberal Democrat. This is given that Democrats typically represent the left or liberal wing of congress, and Republicans traditionally symbolize the right or conservative wing of congress. Or some other legislative body, such as state-level representatives. Likewise a Republican might then be labeled as a conservative, moderate, or somewhat liberal. It works both ways, depending on whose voting record and other actions generally lean in a particular direction. The more a Republican sides with Democrats on various issues, the more that senator or House member is considered to be a left-leaning, liberal Republican. When this becomes frequent or habitual, a Republican can be disparaged by his fellow Republicans as a RINO -- a Republican In Name Only. Interestingly, no such labeling exists among Democrats. There's no such thing as a DINO -- or Democrat In Name Only. What typically happens is when a Democrat strays too far from the party line, he or she is shunned, punished, and/or made inconsequential as a political force. Senator Joseph Lieberman is an example of this type of ostracization. Come to think of it, DINO isn't a bad synonym for Democrats of any persuasion. But I digress.
A gradual change has taken place over the years, whereby divisive lines seem more clearly drawn nowadays. And although this might help clarify a politician's stand on various issues, the disappearance of traditional moderation has also widened the gap that prevents compromise and bipartisan cooperation among the different parties. While Democrats have joined forces and ranks, presenting a largely unified front, the Republicans have recently split between the more conservative Tea Party membership, and the more moderate or traditional "establishment" Republicans, including so-called RINO's whose sympathies lie with Democratic moderates, and, on some issues, even with liberals of the opposition party.
But what does it even mean to be a modern liberal? A modern conservative? Moderates in both parties might be likened to the poor souls who are standing atop an earthen chasm which opens under them during a giant earthquake. And moments later, they plummet into the bottomless fissure that swallows anyone not standing far to one side or the other. The only moderates who survive (of either party) are those whose vacillation is both self-serving and of value to their party for one reason or another.
I used to be liberal Democrat. I voted for Bill Clinton and Jesse Jackson. That's pretty liberal. So when did I change and why? Well, I stopped voting altogether prior to Clinton's reelection when it became painfully apparent that voter registration rolls were being used in California to locate and summon people for jury duty. Although I'm strongly opposed to the jury system as it's presently operated, I'll save that essay for another day. Suffice it to say that not until a medical condition allowed me to "escape" from all future summons, did I begin voting again. Meanwhile Bill Clinton had been a disaster as far as I was concerned; that alone got me to wondering. When it turned out that Jesse Jackson had one or more extra-marital affairs, plus a plethora of other indiscretions and inconsistencies, I began to see a definitive pattern evolving. These people were not only lying a lot about all kinds of things, but they were lying all the time about almost everything. I hate liars. It wasn't long before my political observations were little more than deciphering who lied the most, and who the least. That was a good starting point. Silly me always supposed that everyone told lies some of the time, but that generally speaking, when it got right down to it, these high-ranking politicos gave us pretty much the straight scoop (or poop) on most things. So how naive was I? Very, as it turned out. Even more than I could have ever imagined.
Long story short, I gradually discerned that for the most part, Democrats seemed to lie more than Republicans. And I really dislike liars more than I dislike anything. Republicans were full of bluster and accusations, always going on about the U.S. Constitution, states rights and other technical gobbledygook -- none more boisterously than Rush Limbaugh. But compared to Democrats, I wasn't catching these conservative types in too many outright lies per se. I can't give you specific examples; I don't remember what they were, but there were many, and they continued to mount up. So while Democrats were starting to sound and look kind of sleazy and crooked, Republicanism still represented domestic and foreign policies that I found problematic if not totally contrary to my view of the world i.e. my world view. But what really was my global view of things? What were my ideas and beliefs really based on? Could I be wrong about a lot of things? Had I been listening to the wrong people? Well, crap. I say it that way because it became increasingly apparent that if I was going to make sense of things politically, I would have to educate myself more about who was who and what was truly what.
What the hell was so great about this Reagan guy? What was this business about the division between states and the federal government? So-called federalism vs. the Feds, as in federal government. Why was that old scrap of parchment called, the constitution, so all important? Wasn't it a tad outdated and in need of some sprucing up? Almost overnight, the more I learned (or paid attention), the more questions that kept cropping up. I learned it was the Republicans who were largely instrumental in the Civil Rights movement, and not the Democrats. What? It was even Republicans who fought against slavery, and not the Democrats. Now just wait a second. The former president, Woodrow Wilson, a Democrat, was an outright racist who promoted segregation. Who knew? FDR, it turns out, worsened and prolonged the Depression; he didn't end it. And on and on it goes. Next I'll find out that it's only Republicans who represent free enterprise, the right to own private property, lower taxes, state sovereignty and a small, unobtrusive federal government.
As my knowledge of American history continued to grow more enlightened, it seemed more and more like Republicans represented the things I was finding more and more important. I still remember hearing the Democrats accuse the Republicans of trying to invade people's bedrooms and impose their own ideas of morality. I was so ignorant and ill-informed at the time, I had no idea that just the opposite was the case. In actuality, Republicans were fighting against government intrusion into citizens' bedrooms, where federal mandates legalizing abortion, widespread condom use for minors, and other invasions of privacy were somehow within the scope of the federal government. I didn't know that all stuff was in our constitution. It's not, according to Republicans, whose ideas and principles started to sound more and more like things I wanted to investigate and even support. By the time I finally began to truly understand the constitution and the sacred separation between state rights and federal, central government limitations, those dang Republicans had all but won me over. Though truth be known, I was keeping my eye on them. All of them. One slip up and these new guys were toast.
I still had no Republican heroes who I'd support no matter what. The party platform seemed sound enough, but I needed flesh and blood to represent the issues that were growing more important to me by the day. Rush Limbaugh was still ranting about this and that and still leaving me cold because of his ceaseless histrionics. Or what seemed to me at the time, as melodramatics. It wasn't until I stumbled upon some conservative radio host named Mark Levin, a previous adviser to Limbaugh, that my real education began to blossom. Good grief, if this guy was telling the truth, my whole notion of how the world existed and operated politically would have to revised, revamped, rethought and otherwise rebuilt from the ground up -- almost from scratch. Listening to Mark is a lot like going back to school and learning what we missed, or didn't get in the way of an education about how America works and more importantly, how it ought to work. and why. When the dust finally settled, I realized I was not only a conservative, but couldn't be anything else. With the advent of the Tea Party and the people associated with it like Sean Hannity, Sarah Palin, Michelle Malkin, Ted Cruz, Mike Lee and others, I'm more of a generic conservative, a constitutional conservative, and much less of a more typical Republican these days. If the GOP doesn't get its act together and stop thinking of the constitution as so much toilet paper, I'll leave the party altogether and vote strictly as an independent. Libertarians notwithstanding.
Except for the relatively small group of people I have come to trust implicitly as wise, knowledgeable, and whose integrity is beyond reproach, my personal vigilance and skepticism is very much alive and well. I'm reminded of the Depression-era FBI crime fighter, Eliot Ness whose own group was called "The Untouchables". You might recall the popular TV show of the same name. They were called untouchable because these particular cops couldn't be bribed or otherwise bought-off. I think of my private cadre of conservative leaders and commentators as being similar to those men. Not unlike the founders of the country. Where principle and honor trumped all other considerations.
So I finally found my heroes and like headlights shining down a dark alley, things now tend to make a lot more sense lately. It's easy to segregate the villains,creeps, inept crumbs and bums, from the people for whom God and country comes first, and personal enrichment second. Especially empowering is a strong confidence in the reliability and truthfulness of the information one obtains from impeccable, unimpeachable sources. Once that happens, we then have a clear, microscopic lens for scrutinizing the veracity of the statements and positions taken by others, be they friend or foe. As a result, the number of political (and entertainment) figures whom I still respect has dramatically diminished to a precious handful of names.
In the story of the writing of the song, Amazing Grace, the captain of a slave ship experienced an epiphany, as it's called. His mind suddenly awakened to the great Industry of Evil with which he was associated and complicit. In like fashion, I experienced my own epiphany of sorts, coming to know the real history behind the founding of America as a country, and the story of the fathers (and mothers) who, at great personal sacrifice, accomplished the deed. I learned about the U.S. Constitution and why it's as valid today as ever, in no need of revision or updating. So brilliant was the genius of the founders who wrote it. I learned how one thing skillfully and logically blends into another, meaning as our understanding of the Constitution grows, so does our appreciation of the roles of the states compared to the limitations placed on the central government. One realizes that in order to increase the power and influence of an ever stronger federal government, one must invariably disconnect from the meaning and intention of the constitution, thereby distorting, twisting, and perverting the very principles upon which the country was founded -- and has successfully endured for almost 250 years.
Thus when you hear someone advocate for a strong central government that needs to help people and regulate things, that needs to distribute the vast wealth of the nation in such a way that the system is more fair to the less fortunate among us, that health insurance is a right instead of a privilege, that taxation is a blessing and not a curse, and that everyone should share equally in all the benefits this country offers, then that person has distanced themselves from both the founding documents of America, and the credo such instruments delineate. This is fine if that's what somebody prefers, such as a total transformation of the country. Many such persons think the constitution is outdated and no longer applicable to today's complex world. Fine. That's their right to think so. Provided, of course, the position of the individual in question is based on entirely accurate information. For example, a false belief that the constitution somehow allows for a strong federal government that supersedes states' rights in almost every situation. Or that the government can force people to buy health insurance or a certain kind of light bulb, or toilet, or any of a million other things. There's a word for such people: they're called Democrats. They're not actually conservative, moderate, or even liberal. They're just Democrats. Many if not most of whom put love of Party before love of country.
In stark contrast to such thinking, I'm a constitutional "originalist" meaning I think the constitution is the law of the land and should be followed precisely as it's written. Not a single word needs to be changed. Not one. I like it just the way it is. And that translates into a teensy-weensy federal government with extremely limited powers. It means individual states largely dictate their own laws and standards as to how people should live. It means only states say who can get married, who can get abortions, what kind of light bulbs and toilets -- and health insurance -- you can buy. It means the thousands of different federal agencies and their thousands of laws have little or no say over how states run their affairs. The people who supported such ideas used to be called Republicans. Not so much anymore. The party is fractured, leaving mainly staunch conservatives (like moi) to hold the line, so to speak, on what defines both a conservative and a Constitutionalist.
Needless to say, this topic could go on for many more pages. My aim here is much more modest, my intent merely to demonstrate why I consider myself a conservative, and at odds with most others who aren't. I don't expect to change anyone's mind one way or the other, but I hope this sheds some amount of light on what has become an extremely complex situation. Are things truly as simple as I've laid out? Hardly. But these words are designed as a starting point for those who find themselves questioning where they stand on things. More importantly determining or suspecting where others stand, and what others say and do. And figuring out who the liars are and dropping them like hot embers in bare hands.
And likewise embracing those who are spreading the truth around -- instead of other people's wealth.
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