Celebrating fifty years in America

Apropos my last post, my friend Haika’s husband Ashok is celebrating fifty years since his arrival in the USA from India. He moved to the USA to start a new life, and he succeeded. He chose to celebrate by recreating his exact travel route to America in 1975 and then once in America, by reading the poem The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus. This poem is featured on the base of the Statue of Liberty. This is what America has meant and means to him. This is what the Statue of Liberty represents--a welcome to immigrants. 

Ashok at JFK 08-25-25.mp4 - Google Drive

Give me your tired, your poor

Emma Lazarus wrote this sonnet in 1883, and in 1903 the poem was cast onto a bronze plaque that was mounted inside the lower level of the Statue of Liberty's pedestal. We know parts of this poem since it is associated with the Statue of Liberty, which is one of the first sights immigrants see and saw when they first arrived in America. 'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore'--these are the lines that most people are familiar with and that represent what America stands for and stood for a century ago. This is the entire poem: 

The New Colossus

by Emma Lazarus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she

With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Copyright Credit: n/a

Source: Emma Lazarus: Selected Poems and Other Writings (2002)

Staying positive during and after illness

A number of friends have commented on my positive approach to life in light of the serious operation I underwent in April. What I know is that I was one of the lucky ones--operated on about a week after my diagnosis and extensive testing--and a three-month recovery that was not fraught with major problems. I was well-treated by the healthcare system in this country, and from my conversations with others who have experienced the system, I had an excellent experience. I am thankful for that. Because had I landed on a long waiting list for an operation, I may not have concluded thusly. And I probably would not be doing well at all. 

The positivity comes from knowing that my diagnosis was correct and that the resultant surgery was successful. None of these things is a given, especially the latter. The tests I went through were extensive and difficult, but tolerable. The mitral valve repair surgery that I underwent is at present fairly routine, but still, there are always risks with any kind of surgery where anesthesia is involved. I knew beforehand that my quality of life without surgery would be null. So there was no question in my mind that surgery was my only option. I wasn't afraid of it. I was rather afraid of not having it soon enough, because my quality of life prior to surgery was poor. I couldn't sleep and I had a hard time breathing properly. You don't live long with those symptoms--all signs of congestive heart failure. 

I am a scientist by training and a fairly pragmatic person. I understand the pros and cons involved in most medical procedures and I can discuss them rationally with the doctors and nurses. I was interested in my condition and in the different types of testing, and told them so. So they weren't afraid to be open about aspects of my treatment that they may not have discussed with another type of patient. There are some people who don't want to know any of the details, and that also has to be respected. But I wanted to know. 

So my positivity evolved out of the knowledge that my only option was surgery, and that it went well. I am grateful for a second chance in life. My brush with mortality has taught me to be grateful for every single day, and to be grateful for my husband and the friends who have remained in my life. There are people who distance themselves from you when you become ill. Perhaps they think you will ask them for help, or perhaps they are scared for themselves. In any case, I am happy to be together with those I can call real friends. With them, I can let down my guard and they know that I can tell them that I have good days and bad days. But the good days far outweigh the bad ones, and knowing that makes me smile. 

The great divide

Parable is a poem I wrote many years ago--my reflections on the great divide between the wealthy and the poor, inspired by the parable in the New Testament about the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31 NIV - The Rich Man and Lazarus - “There was - Bible Gateway)

Parable

Lazarus in the street,
While in the penthouses above
The glitterati meet.
In the end I left
The glamour, the effete chic.
(Not that I belonged).
‘City of vipers’--
Women poised like cobras,
Bedecked in jewels and haughty crowns,
Ready to strike, tongues flicking.
Gold lame skins rise and fall
With their breathing.
Fixing you with their stares.
Outside the frost-edged window
Awaits the city---
The viper rich indoors
See it not, nor feel.
Teeth flash, capped, even, gleaming--
Fangs for the night about to end
About to start
That never ends, for reality 
Is a party, a toss of the coin--
One more Lazarus for the gutter,
One more snake for the pit. 

from Parables and Voices: A Collection of Poems 1973-2009: De Angelis, Paula Mary: 9781452838762: Amazon.com: Books

All rights reserved. Copyright Paula Mary De Angelis

Autumn and moving on

I have begun to wake up around 7 am, a very peaceful time of day. There is some noise outdoors--garbage collection, children crying because they don't want to go to daycare--those kinds of things. Nothing that is irritating. We have had a wonderful summer--sunny, warm, and pleasant. There have been intervals with rain, but they don't last very long before we're back to sunshine. I've loved every waking minute of it. When I wake up, I thank God for another day of life, and then putter about until my husband gets up. I get an early start on most household chores, which I like a lot. 

I love this time of year--the transition from summer to autumn. It's still warm during the day, but chilly at night. Great for sleeping. I don't always sleep straight through the night until morning, but no matter. I know that I can catch up on some sleep during the day. My first thought upon waking is often my garden. I so look forward to being there. Today is one of those days where I know I can be in my garden undisturbed by obligations and chores. I'm done with most of the garden chores--harvesting, pruning the berry bushes, cutting the grass, and planting new perennials. I'll plant garlic cloves at the end of September as well as some tulip bulbs and the like. The major garden cleanup can wait until spring; that way the birds and insects have plants to feed upon during the winter months. There are so many birds, bees, and butterflies in the garden at present. I love seeing them there. 

When the sun shines like it does today, I feel happy and free. When I get to the garden, perhaps I'll continue reading one of the books I started months ago. I did that on Sunday when we had Visitors Day in the garden. I haven't felt much like reading since my operation, but the desire is slowly returning. Visitors Day was enjoyable; I met many people who visited my garden, and we talked about plants and being on the waiting list to get an allotment garden. Several people commented on how beautiful my garden is. I thanked them. It is a beautiful garden that I've poured my heart and soul into. I'm proud of the results, but I know that none of it would have been possible without God's help. He has been with me every step of the way, and I feel that even more since my operation. Just knowing that I could return to working in my garden was a major goal during my recovery. It waited for me and took care of itself while I was ill. That's the beauty of a (mostly) perennial garden. Eventually the only thing you really need to do is water the garden a few times a week. 

I could focus on a few negative things that have happened recently, but I won't. Suffice it to say that I've learned who my real friends are, and I'm intentionally moving on from those who are not. People show you their true colors, especially when you are ill. My husband commented recently on the few friends here who showed up for me. It's not that they could help me very much--he has helped me the most--but they visited, took contact, sent get-well cards or bought me flowers. It meant and means a great deal to me. Just to be able to talk about what I went through and to let it out, has been a relief for me. A relief that some people would actually listen to me without wanting to jump in immediately and tell me that it's all going to be fine. A relief that some people made time for me. I will forever treasure how I was treated by the doctors, nurses, physiotherapists, and the health personnel generally. Their kindness stands out and washes away the carelessness of the so-called friends who are not friends. I choose to focus on the positive, and have support for that approach from Matthew Kelly's book The Fourth Quarter of Your Life: Embracing What Matters Most. It is truly a wonderful book about how to approach getting older/old, and I recommend it for anyone over fifty years of age. The wisdom contained in its pages is priceless. Old age is often referred to as the autumn and/or winter of life. It's fitting that I finished the book as we prepare for the autumn season. Reading the book freed me from worrying about how to deal with certain situations. I've made some intentional decisions and have let go of what hurt me or made me sad. Life is too short to focus on the callousness of others. I am not callous nor will I ever be. Society encourages that now, but it hasn't changed me. What matters most is how we love others, and also ourselves. What matters most is integrity and remaining true to our values and the voice in our soul that guides us onward in life. 

Caring and not caring

Sometimes the smartest and healthiest thing we can do for ourselves is to care less, not more. I don't mean that we should be uncaring toward others or that we should not love or prioritize others. I mean that sometimes we care too much about what others think of us in situations that do not warrant our attention, or we want to direct others through our caring, and these scenarios are not healthy. Sometimes we don't like how others behave toward us or how they talk to us. We should say--it's your problem, not mine. But often we don't do that. We end up getting dragged into their banal dramas when we should just ignore them and walk away. We should make a conscious effort to not care about what they mean or say about us. Hard to do, yes. But freeing. Because when you really learn to let go of caring about what other people mean about you, especially when they are hypercritical of you, you are free. In the same way, we free others to do and say what they want when we let go of our vision of how they should behave and what they should do and say. The key words are 'letting go', not hanging on. What's important is to let others be, and that means not grasping at them in an effort to get them to do what we think they should do. Grasping at them reveals a kind of desperation. It's not smart behavior. 

There are times in life when others are headed down the wrong path and we want to involve ourselves in order to stop them from making a mess of their lives. But if we haven't been asked for advice or our opinion on a certain matter, why are we getting involved? I'm not talking about children here who need guidance and direction, rather adults who can reason for themselves and make informed choices. Why are we inserting ourselves into others' lives when we've not been asked to do so? There are many well-meaning adults who want to control others, to fashion them according to their own viewpoints and beliefs. We should rather 'let go and let them' live the lives they want to live, regardless of the outcome. And in that way, we end up having fewer dramas and fewer irritating situations to deal with. Sometimes the outcomes for those others won't be happy, sometimes they may even be painful. But they are adult learning experiences. Pain can be a basis for emotional and psychological growth. We cannot prevent others from experiencing pain. 

There are situations when another's behavior/comments may hurt our feelings. Sometimes we are faced with having to choose a response to them. The question is what kind of response. Sometimes it's best to just to let them be that way. Sometimes that's the healthiest response of all. Their bad behavior is not our problem. Perhaps their behavior or comments are intended to provoke us, to make us irritated, sad, jealous or angry. Do we take the bait or do we walk away? Do we care or do we walk away and not care? More and more, I've begun to see the value in not caring. That way, I can reserve my energy for the situations where real caring and active love are warranted. And that way, I don't have to be dragged into another's dramas. That by itself is energizing and empowering. 

And Just Like That comes to an end

I watched the final episode of And Just Like That (AJLT) tonight (it aired last night), and can honestly say that I liked it. I've read some negative reviews and some positive reviews. Many people hated the finale, which simply confirms for me that you either liked the series or you didn't. The negative reviews meant that the series generally was too woke and that the finale didn't do the characters justice. I don't agree and I don't care what the negative reviewers thought. The finale provided fitting endings for Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and their new friends Seema and Lisa. It implied that Carrie's new novel will be a success, but that she doesn't end up with a man after having ended things with Aidan. She accepts that. Miranda finds happiness with her girlfriend Joy but her son's life is a chaotic mess (a one-night stand ended up with the young woman becoming pregnant), and Charlotte and Harry are weathering his bout with prostate cancer. In other words, they are all dealing with the problems of middle age and approaching old age. Life is unpredictable and messy. There are no guarantees of a happy ending for anyone. That is real life, as much as we'd like to run away from that reality. Some of the negative reviews wanted a happy (happier) ending for Carrie. But why? Many middle-aged women end up alone, or remain alone after years of dating. Many choose to live alone. They are often smart and successful women. Carrie at least experienced a happy, albeit short, marriage with Big. All of the characters, including Seema and Lisa (the new friends), are dealing with relationship issues. Those who are married admit that it involves a lot of self-sacrifice and compromise. What grounds all these women are the friendships they have with each other. They know that their friends are always there for them. That is what I love and have loved about the new series and the Sex And The City series. That, and the love affair they have with Manhattan. Having gone to school and worked in Manhattan, I share their feelings about the city. But, these women are wealthy and I was not. You need to be wealthy in order to have the lives these women have. If you're not, you can't remain in Manhattan for very long. But that feeling--that the world was my oyster when I was young and in Manhattan--is a wonderful memory. And after I left it, my life changed in ways that I could never have imagined. 

AJLT ended abruptly. It made me wonder why. Perhaps there's more to the story than meets the eye. Perhaps we'll learn more down the line. Or perhaps there really was nothing more to say, no more new stories to tell. Michael Patrick King has said that he felt it was a good time to stop, and Sarah Jessica Parker seconded that statement. It might have been just more of the same--trying to find a good man, dealing with spouses, dealing with children, dealing with work. Dating is difficult at any age; even more so when one is older. Marriages have their ups and downs, and can become routinized at times. Children grow up and leave the nest--choosing their lives for themselves. Work problems can occur at any age. When we're older, we've heard the same stories over and over from spouses and friends. We try to reinvent ourselves. But it gets harder as we age. And we eventually end up asking ourselves--why? Why do we need to reinvent ourselves when we're older? At some point, it's got to be about patting ourselves on the back for getting as far as we've gotten, for achieving the small successes that life has given us. It's about accepting where we are now--the good and the bad. Life is never, and will never be, perfect or as we imagined it. As we age, we should be living in the present and trying not to focus on the past. The future is uncertain at best, so the present is all we have. That's where the series ended. In the middle of real life. There isn't, and there won't be, a fairytale ending, however much we may have wanted one. 

If you'd like to read my post from 2022 about AJLT, here is the link: A New Yorker in Oslo: And just like that, Big died

Do Something by Macy Gray

Heard this song recently while I was on vacation, and it brought me right back to the 1990s. One of her best songs in my opinion. Enjoy.....

A good reminder for those who would rather not be reminded

 

My author page on Amazon

As many of you know, I've been writing for many years. If you'd like to check out my Author page on Amazon, here is the link: 

Amazon.com: Paula M. De Angelis: books, biography, latest update

Jurassic World: Rebirth movie

I'll start by sharing the reaction of a young boy, probably around eleven years of age, who was together with his father. After the film was over, they were in the lobby on their way to the exit when they ran into people they knew--yet another father with his two boys. I was walking behind them. They exchanged greetings and then one of the fathers asked the other how the film was. Before he had a chance to answer, his son exclaimed that it was an exciting and scary film; his eyes widened and his face was full of wonder and excitement. You just knew that this must have been his first Jurassic Park/World film. His father smiled, but you could tell that he felt the same way, just that he had a more tempered reaction. At that moment, I realized that I felt the same--it was an exciting and scary film--even if we've seen most of it before in other Jurassic Park/World films. It didn't matter. This film captured the spirit of the early films, when the good and ethical people survived (mostly) and the bad and unethical people got crunched by the carnivorous dinosaurs. The demarcation between good and bad was easy to discern and no tears were lost on the demise of the bad people. 

I love going to the movies and I always will. I love the summer blockbuster films (just not the super hero genre) and I love sitting together with other people who are there for the same reason--to be entertained. It's fun. Jurassic World: Rebirth is not a great film, but I never go to these kinds of films expecting great art. But it's a very good, tightly-edited film. I don't care if we've seen most of it before. Big (and in this film, mutant) carnivorous dinosaurs ARE scary and you wouldn't want to be eaten by one of them. That is the mark of good filmmaking, when you can transport the audience to that world and keep them on the edge of their seats. The teenage girls next to me in my row were commenting on the (often stupid) behavior of some of the characters. Much like we do at home when we're watching a movie. They were involved in the story, as I was. You root for the characters to get off the remote island where the dinosaurs live, alive, which they do of course, but minus some members of the original group. 

Scarlett Johansson (former military covert operative), Mahershala Ali (boat owner and longtime friend of Johansson's character), and Jonathan Bailey (paleontologist) are all very good in their roles, but it was cool to see a pragmatic and unafraid female leader (Johansson) for a change. She kept a cool head in most of the borderline catastrophic situations. Refreshing.....

A fun summer film for sure, if you're looking for escapist entertainment: Jurassic World: Rebirth (2025) - IMDb  

Garden update

I've been working in my garden since mid-May. I tried doing garden work a couple of weeks after I came home from the hospital in mid-April, but I became dizzy and had to stop. Now, almost three months after my operation, I'm back to working in the garden for hours at a time. But I take precautions--sun umbrella up, wearing a hat to protect against too much sun, drinking a lot of water and resting when I get tired. We've had intervals of sun and rain, which has been very good for the garden, especially the berry bushes. There will be good harvests for black currants, gooseberries, raspberries, and strawberries. I've planted a cranberry bush that is thriving, and my Norwegian blueberry bushes are also happy. The American blueberry bushes, less so, so I ended up transplanting them to a sunnier location. 

Yellow loosestrife has overtaken a large area of one of my perennial spaces. I cut it back but it just keeps on coming. It's beautiful, but I need to keep it in check or else it will take over the entire space. That seems to be my job this year--keeping growth in check. Everything is doing well and I can't complain. But maintenance of the garden keeps me busy. I'm very glad that I decided to aim for a (mostly) perennial garden, because I don't have to worry about buying a lot of annuals each year. The bushes that have grown the most since I planted them three years ago are the forsythia bushes. I cannot believe how large they've become. Ditto for the lilac bush. And of course the ninebark bush, which resembles a tree at present. I could clip it right down to the base, and it would grow back happily. I don't do that though; I clip a number of branches to keep it in a certain shape. And the Japanese maple tree is thriving as well, which makes me happy; it is so lovely. 

The wild cherry tree that decided to take root from seed in my garden (I didn't plant it) has grown quite tall. It produces sour cherries, but not as many as the cherry tree I bought and planted. The birds (blackbirds, brown thrushes, sparrows) are eagerly waiting for the red currants to be ripe; each year it's a contest between humans and birds to see who gets the most red currants. Last year, we managed to pluck half of the berries, but the birds got the other half. They don't seem to go after the other berries as much. I don't know why. 

My garden is thriving, if a bit overgrown in places. I like it that way. It's as though I enter my own private secret garden when I arrive there. Except for the formal garden entrance (an arch covered with white clematis), the other three sides of the garden are 'walled-in' by growth along the street fence, tall raspberry bushes, and black currant bushes plus a 'krossved' (Viburnum opulus) bush.

Here are some garden photos from May and June.......enjoy!

Beautiful wisteria 

Japanese maple

Irises

Rhododendron

Ninebark bush

Blooming peony plant

Loosestrife 

Summer solstice blessing

I don't know who the author of this little poem is, but it's a nice little poem for the summer solstice. Enjoy......

Reflections on The Capture--a futuristic horror story?

We recently discovered this compelling thriller series on Viaplay (The Capture (TV Series 2019–2025) - IMDb, and I can only say that watching it will induce a fair amount of paranoia and surprise. Surprise that video surveillance using CCTV (closed circuit TV) has come as far as it has in Britain. London to be exact. I knew that there were video cameras everywhere, but I didn't realize the extent of the surveillance. To sum up the series, it deals with the use of video surveillance to track the movements of potential terrorists and anarchists, but in doing so it unsurprisingly tracks the movements of ordinary folk. Facial recognition technology using AI also enters the picture. What transpires is tantamount to a horror film about the future to come (or is it already here?), in that the video experts have developed a technique called 'correction' that allows them to manipulate video footage in real-time. So that what you think you're watching in real-time is not real; it has been altered (in most cases via sophisticated hacking) to suit the purposes of those who want 'corrected' footage. In the first season, the counter-terrorism group, in order to prosecute a suspected terrorist, had altered video footage in order to 'include' said terrorist. This was done in order to be able to introduce the footage into a court of law, since recorded conversations and the like are apparently inadmissible. The person in question was actually a terrorist, so the argument was that even though recorded conversations could not be admitted into a court of law, altering a video to include the terrorist was ok because he was actually a terrorist. The main story of the first season is about a young soldier whose lawyer ends up dead, and he is accused of murdering her. Except that he hasn't done so, but there is video footage showing that he has attacked her and that she never got on her bus to go home. She was kidnapped by persons unknown. We know that the soldier isn't the culprit; that's established early on. The problem is proving it, and that proves to be difficult. 

It's not difficult to imagine how this technology can be misused, especially when AI enters the picture. The point was made early on in the series that China and Russia were already using 'correction'. How real is it? We all know about/have heard about deepfake videos and the like. I'm going to include Wikipedia's description of deepfake in order to reveal just how far deepfake has come: 

Deepfakes (a portmanteau of 'deep learning' and 'fake' are images, videos, or audio that have been edited or generated using artificial intelligence, AI-based tools or AV editing software. They may depict real or fictional people and are considered a form of synthetic media, that is media that is usually created by artificial intelligence systems by combining various media elements into a new media artifact......Deepfakes have garnered widespread attention for their potential use in creating child sexual abuse material, celebrity pornographic videos, revenge porn, fake news, hoaxes, bullying, and financial fraud.

In the series, the point is made that democratic societies began to use correction technology to counter the misuse by non-democratic societies, but of course we know that it's only a matter of time before the misuse infiltrates the democratic societies as well. Because in real life there are always villains and people on the take, grifters willing to sell out their country for a good sum. In addition, MI5 and the CIA are always involved in these series (often in very questionable ways), and the picture is never pretty in terms of what they do to people who oppose them. It's actually quite scary to think about a world in which you perhaps possess the 'true' video footage of an event, only to be told that the 'corrected' video footage is the real footage. It's your word against theirs (the police and counter-terrorism folks). And the little man or woman does not win against the tech-savvy folks. The little folks are suppressed and threatened with career destruction/slandering/destruction of reputation. In the worst case, their lives are threatened. There is no shortage of assassinations in The Capture.  

So how much of this is true, and how far has the technique of correction come? Britain is apparently the most video-monitored country in the world. CCTV began in the 1960s as a measure to monitor crowd activity, traffic, and eventually criminal activity, and to the latter end it's been fairly effective. What makes me nervous is realizing that the use of CCTV requires a huge number of people who sit and monitor footage 24/7. Are all these people reliable, honest, and good? It's not possible since we are only human. So the potential for misuse, for data manipulation, for altering the 'truth' is real ‘The public have a right to be concerned’: the real story behind BBC One’s surveillance and technology thriller, The Capture – The i Paper

We are moving towards a strange new world where AI will dominate much of our lives. A brave new world? Some might say that it's going to be survival of the fittest. I used to say that if you have nothing to hide, being monitored won't bother you. But now I'm not so sure. The true horror lies in what you can do to politicians, famous people, celebrities, etc. by misusing data technology. The true horror is what will happen to democratic societies when no one is sure of what is 'true' anymore. We have reached that point in politics, and it makes me wonder about the presidential races during the past decade or so. What is the truth, really? Who can tell us? I would argue that we know deep down what the truth is, but as is often said, reality is stranger than fiction. I hope not for the future of society.  

Grateful for the gift of life

I have been going to cardio training classes for the past two months, and am very pleased with the results thus far. I have better endurance and balance, both of which I needed. I'm still tired from time to time, but since my operation, I'm less tired for each day that passes. We train outdoors on a grass lawn in the vicinity of the local hospital that is responsible for the training that is conducted by licensed physiotherapists. When the weather is nice, as it has been for the past month, it is nice to look up at the blue sky and feel the wind that blows through the tall trees around us. The sun and the wind make me feel grateful for being alive so that I can experience them. It's hard to explain if you haven't been through a major heart operation, but being grateful for being alive is one of the feelings that dominates each day. Being alive is a gift. Mitral valve surgery (in my case--repair) was not a given forty or fifty years ago. It's 'routine' surgery now, but in order to have become so, it has evolved over the years from attempts at repair to successful repair mostly due to the development of the heart-lung machine in 1953. I am grateful for all the cardiologists and surgeons who have dedicated their lives and careers to bettering the lives of others and to keeping heart patients alive. They are amazing individuals who deserve all the praise they get. Men and women in my parents' generation were not so lucky, since the technique was still evolving.   

The best thing about the classes has been being together with others who have gone through the same or similar heart operations. Our class consists of about twenty or so persons, split more or less evenly between the sexes. Most are older people, but some are middle-aged and young. When I started, the physiotherapists told me I could proceed at my own pace and do the exercises I felt that I could manage. When I started, I had poor balance. Not anymore. So it's eye-opening what training can do to improve one's physical form. The others also do what they can. I like the smiling faces I meet the days I'm there, and talking to some of the people in the class. I hope I meet some of them again when the class ends, as it will before summer vacation. I've been offered a spot in a more intensive cardio training course after the summer, and I've accepted it. I hope I meet some of my fellow 'travelers' there. I am grateful for them as well, for showing me that fear and nervousness can be overcome. It's been valuable to experience that together with others who are in the same boat with me. I'm grateful too for the physiotherapists who motivate us to continue, who tell us that we're doing well, and who guide us through the exercises. They're worth their weight in gold. 

Wise words from the new pope

 I do like the new pope. He says it like it is. 

Closer To Home (I'm Your Captain) by Grand Funk Railroad

I heard this song yesterday, and it brought me right back to that time in my life when we were teenagers and discovering music. And there was so much good music to discover. So many good bands, not like today with mostly one-hit wonders who score it big and then go and do something else after having earned tens of millions of dollars. It seems to me that music was less about business then compared to today. And I'm glad for that. Enjoy this song from 1970. I'm including the lyrics as well. 

[Verse 1]

Everybody, listen to me

And return me my ship

I'm your captain, I'm your captain (Alright)

Though I'm feeling mighty sick

[Verse 2]

I've been lost now, days uncounted

And it's months since I've seen home

Can you hear me? Can you hear me?

Or am I all alone?

[Verse 3]

If you return me to my home port

I will kiss you, Mother Earth

Take me back now, take me back now

To the port of my birth

[Instrumental Break]

[Verse 4]

Am I in my cabin dreaming

Or are you really scheming

To take my ship away from me?

You'd better think about it

I just can't live without it

So, please don't take my ship from me, yeah, yeah, yeah

[Instrumental Break]

[Verse 5]

I can feel the hand of a stranger

And it's tightening around my throat

Heaven help me, heaven help me

Take this stranger from my boat

I'm your captain, I'm your captain

Though I'm feeling mighty sick

Everybody, listen to me

And return me my ship

[Pre-Chorus]

I'm your captain, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I'm your captain, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I'm your captain, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I'm your captain, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[Chorus]

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home, oh

[Instrumental Break]

[Chorus]

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

I'm getting closer to my home

Having gratitude

 

Saying goodbye to Don

A bittersweet post today, as it will be about the passing of the last of my bosses, Don, from my Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center days. I think about those years from time to time and reflect upon how lucky I was to have worked there and to have had the bosses that I had. They are all deceased now. It was a different world then, and while I wouldn't return to it, I know too that the work world now is very different than when I was starting my career in the early 1980s. 

My first encounter (and memory) of Don was when I interviewed for a flow cytometry position at Memorial Sloan-Kettering in the laboratory for investigative cytology. Don was a tall man and one who loved to eat, but he was slim, not at all overweight. While he was interviewing me, he was eating a hamburger and fries. That might have put some people off, but not me. I found it charming. He explained that this was his afternoon snack before dinner. He also told me that he got to work early each day and went to the cantina for a good breakfast. It wasn't clear to me whether he had eaten breakfast at home first, but it didn't matter. His folksy manner put me right at ease, and I knew that we would work well together. That was in 1982. In 1983, he and his family moved back to Brookings South Dakota where the Evenson family farm was located. He became Professor of Biochemistry at South Dakota State University and worked there for many years. In 1991, he and his wife Carol came to Oslo on sabbatical for a year. Don was friendly with Ole Petter, my boss in Oslo at that time, and we ended up sharing an office for a year and working together on his sperm chromatin structure assay projects. That year went by too fast, but it is filled with good memories of work and social activities. We and our colleagues often went out to eat in the evenings, or out dancing. Sometimes there were get-togethers at different homes. Carol ended up leaving for home in September of that year, but Don stayed until the end of the year. We celebrated Thanksgiving with another American scientist living in Oslo; there must have been at least twenty of us. Don promised he would bring the turkey and cranberries to make cranberry sauce. And he did, after visiting the US and smuggling a turkey in his luggage on his return trip to Oslo. How he managed that, no one knows, as it was a big turkey. Just one of many fun memories I have of him. He was never ruffled about such things; he just assumed they would work out, and they did. 

He was a true scientist, interested in new technologies and techniques and how to apply them to his work with sperm chromatin structure. He was interested in helping infertile couples with his sperm chromatin structure assay (SCSA) technique, and he later founded a company to do this assay on human sperm from men who wanted to ensure that they could father children. He kept on doing research at the same time as he ran his company, and he traveled to many different conferences to present his work. I am proud to have been a co-author on several of his publications. 

He and Carol loved to travel and had probably seen most of the world. One trip stands out in my mind; they attended a voodoo ceremony in Haiti, somewhere out in the forest. I remember asking him if he had been nervous about doing that. He said no. That was his attitude to most things, as I pointed out previously. If he had any fears, he hid them well. He trusted that life would treat him well, and for the most part it did. And he made the most of the life that was given him. He was a kind man, not given to anger, negativity, or cynicism. I believe that his faith in God kept him grateful and happy. He and Carol were married for sixty-two years at his passing at 84 in March of this year. I will remember him, Frank, Zbigniew and Myron for always. Smart men and nice men who treated women well. May they all rest in peace. 

This is me (wanting more plants)

 

The angels among us

As a Catholic, the word 'angel' has always been a part of my vocabulary, but I would have been hard pressed previously to say that I believed in the presence of angels. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that I believed in them but that I didn't really think about them or focus on them in any way. I've been in a couple of dangerous situations through the years and emerged unscathed from them, and when I look back, I believe that my guardian angel protected me from harm. We learn to pray to our guardian angel as children (Catholicism), but again, most of us say the words without really thinking about what we're saying. And that's ok;  perhaps it's meant to be that way. 

I was hospitalized for three weeks during the month of April, and during that time, I met many different people--doctors, nurses, technicians, aides, ambulance drivers, and other patients. All of the people I met touched me in different ways with their kindness and caring; I was well taken care of and I am very grateful for the excellent care that I received. I know that some readers will say that doctors and nurses should be kind and caring, but my feeling is that some of them went above and beyond the call of duty. I will remember them always, from the doctor at the urgent care facility who understood the seriousness of my condition and had me admitted to a hospital immediately, to the different doctors who patiently explained the different tests and procedures that I needed to undergo so that I could have a necessary operation, to the nurses in intensive care who monitored me 24/7, to the ambulance drivers who kept me talking so that I could focus on happier times. All of them were wonderful people and I can't thank them enough for what they did for me. 

There are some few people with whom I interacted that I would say were angels, in the sense that I felt that they were sent to me by God for a reason. Angels are considered to be spiritual beings (without a physical body), so my question is whether all angels 'know' who they are and if they can manifest themselves through humans. The first person was a seventy-eight year old woman named Vigdis, who was my roommate the first weekend I was hospitalized, and then after I was moved to another room, was someone I would meet for lunch and dinner in the hospital cantina. She said it best, that we liked to 'skravle' (to talk a lot and for a long time about many things). She had been through four hip operations, had had a broken back, and had lost her husband to cancer. She had a sense of humor that carried her through most of life's trials, and I so enjoyed talking to her. At one point, I realized that she was sent to me to take my mind off my own trials, and I told her that because I felt it so strongly. I had a very strong sense of being protected by her. She understood what I meant, and then we went on to talk about other things. When she was about to be released from the hospital, I met her to say goodbye, and she just said to me "give me a hug", which I did. And then we said goodbye and wished each other well. 

Two of my many nurses, Kaia and Nashia, were also sent to me for a reason. I knew that whatever happened to me under their care, that they would protect me. All of my nurses were very good to me, but they extended themselves in ways that made me feel that there was something extra surrounding our interactions. On Easter Sunday, Nashia asked me if I was religious, and I said I was. So she arranged for me to attend an interdenominational service led by a female priest named Berit, with whom I connected immediately. I told her how much I enjoyed the service, and when I met her the next day in the hallway, she told me that she had been thinking of me. I told her that I had been thinking of her as well because I had told my husband how much I enjoyed the service, and that I wished that my church would allow female priests. She excused herself for several minutes, and came back with a pair of rosary beads that she offered to me as an Easter gift. We talked about the pope for a while (he had just passed away and she had great respect for him), and then we parted. I will never forget her kindness to me; something in people's eyes that you can see. 'The eyes are the window to the soul', as has been said previously. They truly are. But again, I sensed that feeling of being protected, this time that my soul was protected. It's hard to describe it any other way. 

I could relate many more stories about the people I met during the three weeks I was sick, from the Iranian woman named Fatemeh who wished me well and told me there was something very special about me, to the nurse who, a couple of days after my operation, asked me how I had slept. When I told her that I had dreamed about eating a toasted buttered roll with scrambled eggs, she had the cantina prepare that for me. She didn't have to do that, but she went out of her way to make me happy. Then there was Liv, a very nice medical doctor doing research for her PhD, who asked me to be part of her research study since I fit the participation criteria. Since I was a cancer researcher before I retired, it was easy to say yes to her and to discuss her project with her. It's those extra little touches of kindness and caring that made me feel that I could get well again, that I will get well. I hang on to those moments when I feel a bit down. I hang on to those feelings of being protected. 

These I Can Promise--a short poem by Mark Twain

A short but lovely poem by Mark Twain.....

It's been a while--an update

It's been a while since I wrote any posts for my blog. It's not because I didn't want to, but because life threw me a curve ball that I spent the month of April dealing with. Suffice it to say that the curve ball was health-related and that I spent nearly a month in the hospital. I'm back home now and recovering from a heart operation. My doctors tell me that I will be fine, and I trust them since they're the experts. But I wanted to let you know that I'm still writing my blog and I'll be posting more soon as time goes on......

Thank you for your support, always. 

Deep Forest - Forest Hymn

I loved this song from the first time I heard it!

Bridge of Sighs (2007 Remaster)-Robin Trower

Just a great song!

The current state of affairs

 

The Youngbloods - Get Together (Audio)

Another time, another era--hard to believe it actually existed when you see all the hatred around us now.....Rest in peace, Jesse Colin Young. 

Lyrics to Get Together: 

Love is but a song to sing

Fear's the way we die

You can make the mountains ring

Or make the angels cry

Though the bird is on the wing

And you may not know why

Come on people now

Smile on your brother

Everybody get together

Try to love one another

Right now

Some may come and some may go

We shall surely pass

When the one that left us here

Returns for us at last

We are but a moment's sunlight

Fading in the grass

Come on people now

Smile on your brother

Everybody get together

Try to love one another

Right now

Come on people now

Smile on your brother

Everybody get together

Try to love one another

Right now

Come on people now

Smile on your brother

Everybody get together

Try to love one another

Right now

Two good ones

 

Lola Young - Messy (Official Video)

Love her, love this song…..

Rather apt

 

The politics of vengeance

In my former workplace, there were two large research groups that more or less intensely disliked each other and did everything they could to make life difficult for the other. I never knew the reason why, and over time I never got a good explanation. When I started working there, I worked for the person who was the head of the research institute at that time. My research group leader worked directly for him, and so we enjoyed a rather privileged status in the sense that the institute leader looked out for us and our interests. But he was not particularly friendly with the leader of the other large research group, and when that man eventually became institute leader, he placed his own people as heads of different groups and sections and expanded his reach and power. He also made life difficult for those who worked for the former institute leader. I never had particular problems with the new institute leader, even though I clashed a couple of times with the younger leaders who worked for him. Those clashes became a bit more frequent over time, especially when they involved encroachment into areas that they knew little to nothing about. In the end, it evolved into a battle for control, a battle that our side lost simply because we were no longer in power, and because the politics of vengeance became a dominant force in how our daily lives were run. Tit for tat. If one institute leader's employees had previously been pushed aside, frozen out or ignored when it came to important decision-making, the other institute leader made sure, via his lackeys, that the same treatment was dealt out to his opposition when he became the leader. The effect on our department was, as you can imagine, not beneficial. What started out as a diverse research institute with small but productive research groups was little more than a research monoverse headed by one of the lackeys when I left. That lackey had complete control. His attitude toward others was haughty; he was the best, so the rest could get lost, and he did his level best to get rid of the small but productive research groups, something that the former institute leader had not done. The younger people, on whom any research future depends, chose not to do research; they looked around and breathed in the hostile atmosphere and thought, why bother, when we can choose more lucrative jobs in the private sector? And why should they have chosen to do research at our institute, when the only real option was to work for him? Other leaders who looked at the loss of research in the department shook their heads and wondered why. I know why. The lackeys were in complete control, and they wasted no time in trying to get their (perceived) opponents (scientists they deemed useless) to quit by making their lives miserable, under the guise of 'increasing efficiency', 'saving money', and 'improving the kind of research that was done'. I was at meetings where several of my colleagues were publicly humiliated and told that they were slackers who were just taking up space and collecting their salaries. If the lackeys could have fired them immediately, they would have. Luckily, this country has rules in place prohibiting mass firings in the public sector. This type of behavior was still going on when I left my workplace. 

I should make the point that academic research science is far from a democracy and is headed by a number of leaders who brook no opposition. If you cross them or don't agree with them, you end up on their 'enemies list', slated for being pushed aside, frozen out or ignored when it comes to important decision-making and giving much-needed advice. You can believe it or not, but it's true. The tiny little microcosm of life where I used to work was merely representative of the larger world of government and politics. In other words, there is nothing new under the sun when it comes to behaving badly and governing badly. Just google Machiavelli and you'll see how far back this goes. 

I'm reminded of my former workplace when I look at what is going on at the highest levels of US government. I'd like to tell you that the politics of vengeance is unique to the current administration, but it is not. Eliminating your (perceived) enemies in the name of victory and control becomes paramount to the types of leaders whose goal is to crush their opposition. The question is--who are the enemies of the current administration? All those who did not vote for him? All those who oppose him? All those who tried to undermine him and bring him down? If all of the above, that's going to be a mighty long list of people on whom to exact vengeance. And vengeance comes in all flavors--mocking, public humiliation, bullying, firing, demoting, shoving aside, freezing out. I've been privy to all of that kind of behavior in my former workplace. And I grieved the loss of a civilized workplace for several years after the lackeys took over. We are witnessing exactly this now in the US. And if this is the goal of power in the present administration, the country and its average ordinary citizens will suffer from the fallout. In a few years, there won't be much of a country left to govern. It will have been razed to the ground. Perhaps that is what his supporters want. But they destroy their own lives in the process. 

Hubris and bad behavior

I have begun to reflect on the following--to all those who think that the president's behavior is strong and heroic. You would do well to remember that you take for granted that those around you, who behave decently and kindly toward you as a matter of course, may one day no longer do that. We depend upon the good behavior of others around us to get through our lives. When or if we can no longer depend upon that, society as we know it is over. When we act like the president does toward others he doesn't like or who he deems unworthy of him, we injure others. There is no sane leader in the free world who behaves like him. I know the signs of a bully from previous experience. We can pray for them, yes, but we cannot let them rule a country and/or the world. Those who want that are misguided in my book. 

Hubris, defined as excessive pride, is not a good look on most people, and definitely not on the president. Just saying. It's embarrassing to listen to leaders brag about themselves. But he does. How would most people react if each of us suddenly decided to do the same and act excessively prideful. For example, I could say the following and reiterate it to anyone who would like to hear it ad nauseam. I was the smartest student in my grammar school class, the smartest student in my high school class, valedictorian of my high school class, went on to college and graduate school and received my doctorate in tumor cell biology. I worked for forty years as an academic research scientist, published nearly one hundred articles in my field, mentored Masters and PhD students (most of them women), and empowered women any chance I got. Because for a while there, I was one of two women who were senior scientists in my department. And that wasn't easy, because some of my workplace leaders behaved like the president--they were vengeful, spiteful and mean. If you didn't agree with everything they said, they froze you out and/or ignored you. But back to bragging about myself (thank you, Mr. President). I was a gifted and innovative research scientist (I know that because the reigning American guru in my field told me my work was excellent) and a damn good writer. I've published six books of poetry and one book about passive-aggressive leadership in the workplace, the latter which sold fairly well in the first few years after it was published. I started writing this blog in 2010, and have slowly built up a readership. At present, about a thousand people view my blog each day. I changed my life in my early thirties by moving to Norway and building a life here, learning a new language, and working for over thirty years in a foreign country. My husband and I never made a ton of money, but we've traveled through Europe and the USA on a budget. We are doing fine financially, have no debt, and are enjoying our retirement. I'm currently relearning Spanish and learning Italian online. I'm so clever. I taught myself how to garden after being gifted an allotment garden in 2016, and am quite good at it. I love to travel and to write. I'm so smart. I've accomplished a lot, and it's so great. Look at me, how great I am. You'll never find a greater person than me in the whole world.........blah blah blah ad nauseam. 

You get my drift. Would most people enjoy hearing me spout all this every time I opened my mouth? They would not. And I would never in a million years behave like this. But that is what is now held up as correct behavior, at least in the current political arena. We applaud this in our leaders. 'Look at me, I am so great. The greatest the country has ever seen'. But we would never want our spouses or children to behave like this. Why not? Why not encourage and applaud this behavior in others around us? Perhaps more people should try this as an experiment in their daily lives, just to see the effects on those who support bullies. I don't call this behavior good behavior, I call it bad behavior. But perhaps more people should try it, just to see the effect on loved ones. Guaranteed the divorce rate will shoot through the roof. 

Am I better than most people? I am not. Am I a better Christian than other Christians? I am not. I awake each day with gratitude for another day, another chance to try to be a good person. I have lived my life according to the values that were inculcated in me by my parents, who were humble people. They are my heroes and my role models, and I will forever love them for it. 

What to give up for Lent (and it's not chocolate)

To all the 'devout' Christians out there, this about says it all. Who in God's name cares if you give up chocolate for Lent? God? A better decision--stand up to your esteemed leaders and tell them how to behave. Will you admonish them for behaving like bullies? Will you do that for the rest of us who are not as devout as you are? Thank you. 

My laugh for the day

It made me laugh, but it's really not a laughing matter, how much things cost nowadays.....

Sunday mornings

Sunday mornings. In a city. Oslo, to be precise. Sunday mornings in early March. Spring is right around the corner. You can feel it in the air. The hope and promise of spring. March and April are perhaps my favorite months of the year, although the summer months rival them, at least in terms of garden life. But right now, life is returning to the city, to the garden, to us all. The sun feels warmer on my face when I sit on the bench in my garden after having filled the bird feeder. I love watching the small birds fly to and fro, eating seeds and chattering away. The snowdrops, the real harbingers of spring, are poking their heads up and starting to bloom. 

There is a peace that I love on early Sunday mornings when I walk to St. Olav church. The sun is shining and there are very few cars or people about. There is the occasional jogger or dogwalker, but by and large I have the sidewalks to myself. It is at these times that I love being in a city. I know I'm surrounded by people and I like that, but they're not milling about me as they would be during mid-summer. So I'm enjoying the peace and quiet time, walking up Teltusbakken and past our allotment garden, then walking along Kjærlighetsstien and the park/playground until I reach Akersveien. I then walk past Our Savior's Cemetery and then past St. Olav bookstore. Akersveien is one of my favorite streets in Oslo; it is peaceful, perhaps due to the religious feelings engendered by the church, bookstore and cemetery. It fills me with the peace and feelings of safety from childhood, when all seemed (mostly) right with the world, when Sundays meant going to church with family and then coming home and eating afternoon dinner together. When I walk along Akersveien, I forget that I am living in a nonsensical world that gets crazier by the day. 

March is an unpredictable month in terms of the weather, I know that. So I enjoy the little tastes of spring that we are given on days like these, when the sun shines, when I feel like I have no cares in the world, when it feels as though the peace of the divine is shining down upon us. 

Group thinking and things I've learned along the way

As those who know me know, I don't like group thinking. I don't like being told how or what to think by well-meaning but ultimately know-it-all groups. I never have, even when I was a child in school. I prefer being able to weigh both sides of a societal or political issue in the peace and quiet of my private space. In solitude. I don't want anyone explaining a situation to me unless I have specifically asked for advice about it. Does that make me difficult to live with? At times, probably. However, when it comes to personal issues, I am very loyal to those I care about. I'll side with them, no questions asked, unless what they've done or are doing is of a truly criminal nature. But again, loyalty is a personal decision, not a group one. If I make a mistake concerning this, I'm the only one who has to answer for it. 

Given the current political climate, I'm glad I don't subscribe to group thinking. I'm glad I don't belong to one political party. I'm glad that I try to think for myself, to reason things out based on the information and news available. But there's the rub. Where to get unbiased news and information? It's getting harder and harder each day. So what do I do? I read newspapers and articles from both sides of the political spectrum. I remain politically independent. I don't belong to either major political party. In the current political climate, some might call that cowardly. I call it smart. You're not going to force me to hand over my intelligence to a mob. I'm not interested in mob thinking. Again, I've been like this for many years, since grammar school. Since I sat at the dinner table when I was a teenager and debated the important political issues with my father, who was both intelligent and kind. We two were the only ones interested in doing this in my family. I'm glad I got that training from him. We didn't always agree, but I learned to discuss and debate an issue and to defend my ways of thinking. Sometimes I changed my mind if I saw the wisdom in the other's point of view. But that was the point, we were able to discuss and debate, something that is long-gone in our current society. Nowadays, if someone disagrees with you, especially on social media or online, you'll find yourself the recipient of a barrage of hate comments, troll comments, laughter emojis or anger emojis. I have yet to read a comment that says 'hey, that's an interesting point. Thanks for posting. You gave me something to think about'. One of the reasons I closed the ability to comment on my blog was because the comments were either spam-like or downright hostile. One of the last ones I received from an anonymous (of course) poster before I shut the comments section said that he/she wished that I would die. I've got to wonder why, since I certainly don't set out to offend anyone when I write my posts. But I'm certainly not going to tolerate such things or even pursue them. My blog, my rules. If you don't like what I write, feel free to go elsewhere for your entertainment.

Things I've learned, especially during the last ten years--

• Those who shout the loudest are usually those who have little to say, or nothing to say that's of any value. You can shout in my face, be aggressive or threatening, and I'm still not going to convert to your way of thinking. I will 'listen' to you, as in, my eyes will be focused on your face and you will think I'm listening to you, but I'm really not. I learned that technique in the third grade when a teacher, who was particularly odious, singled out her pet scapegoats for her particular brand of mobbing. She was a bully, and the school let her continue as a teacher. Her modus operandi was to instill fear; she succeeded with some students, I'm sure. She only succeeded in awakening an anger in me that can truly scare even me when it is fully unleased. And I learned to unleash it as an adult. You would not like to be in my presence if you have wronged me or another that I care about. Why am I so preoccupied with fairness and justice for others? I need only think back to that teacher and how she treated some fellow students, and I know why. Or I think back to a time when I was treated poorly by another. You would not like to know some of the thoughts that ran through my head at those times. But then, I could not act on my anger. I was a child/young adult, and I was constrained by my upbringing ('be nice') and my religion ('be kind to others'). It took a long time to understand that anger is a good emotion, and when used correctly, can actually be helpful in changing your current situation or changing your life. 
• The above post also applies to those priests who like to bark out their sermons from the pulpit. Who think they know best. Do you win me over with your fire and brimstone sermons? You do not. And as many of you know, I have been (and remain) in non-agreement with some of the positions that my religion stubbornly will not discuss (female priests and married priests). And I was and remain furious with them for not prosecuting their pedophile priests, however small the number, for the criminals they were and are. The church, as my father used to say, is not infallible. It is filled with fallible men, and that must be understood.
• I don't particularly like bureaucracies (just ask my former colleagues), but I've come to admit that they are necessary. Yes, some of them are too big. No, I don't think that they should be completely dismantled. What happens when you do the latter? You disrupt a society that needs bureaucracies in order to function, a society where some of its people rely on disability and/or welfare payments, health insurance, etc. We are not all wealthy billionaires. I only object to bureaucracies when they micromanage all aspects of people's lives and/or careers and when they try to convert non-bureaucrats (e.g. scientists, doctors) to a bureaucratic way of thinking, which is what happened in my former workplace. 
• Disruption and creating chaos are tactics to get a society to accept group thinking. Think about it. If you disrupt the functioning of a society and create chaos, and then you come along as the great leader who will save society, you gain followers. They think, oh, the savior has arrived. I will follow him or her. I will be loyal to him or her, and I will badmouth all the others who try to stop him or her.
• Social media and the AI algorithms that power them play a huge role in the creation of group thinking. Take Facebook, for example. If you like a particular group or page, your feed will be inundated with posts having to do with that particular topic (in my case--gardens and gardening). If you extrapolate to political posts, you'll find that if you click 'like' on some 'leftist' or 'rightist' post, your feed will suddenly be filled with posts from left-leaning or right-leaning newspapers and organizations. After a time, that is all that you will read or focus on. And the algorithms are clever, they'll always find a new group for you to peruse and agree with. I call it subtle brainwashing. It's the same with tv; if you watch one channel that pushes a right-wing agenda, you'll eventually end up thinking like them if that's your only source of information. Why do the right-wing stations think they're the only ones who present 'the facts and the truth'? How do they 'know' that? They don't, but they're telling you that they're the only ones who know the truth and have the real facts. It's insidious. And the left-wing channels do the same, they're no better. 
• Group thinking leads to intolerance of other ways of thinking. Think about it. Each time we are 100% certain that our way of thinking is the 'right' way of thinking, we close the door to others. We close the door to diverse ways of thinking, to innovative and creative solutions to problems. We close the door to compassion and empathy. The woke movement, while it may have been well-meaning at the start, has also become intolerant of those who don't accept its ways of thinking. It is possible to believe a certain way and have the intelligence to understand that those who think and believe differently are still worthy of our respect and empathy. If this is not the case, what is the definition of civilization and humanity?
• Schools should teach students how to think critically and objectively in order to face an ever-increasing polarization of society. As far as I can see, they do not at present. They have abdicated that role. Parents must therefore try to fill the gap. But they are often tired and without time to do so. I think back to my father's role in my life. He did that job. He taught me to think critically and objectively, even when he was very tired, and I love him for it. There should be more men like my father in the world. 

Life of Pi, The Wild Robot, and Conclave--all excellent films

Traveling to and from the USA gives me the opportunity to catch up on my movies on the plane. On my recent flights to and from New York, I watched two excellent movies, Life of Pi from 2012, and The Wild Robot from 2024. I don't know why I didn't see Life of Pi earlier; there was a lot of hype surrounding the film when it first came out, and I often avoid films that are over-hyped because they often don't live up to all the fuss. But Life of Pi delivered. The director, Ang Lee, has made films like Brokeback Mountain, which was also excellent. He seems to be an eclectic filmmaker, which intrigues me. Life of Pi is an unusual (some would say very strange) story about a young man from India who is traveling to Canada with his parents and brother and some of their zoo animals (that are to be sold) to start a new life. They are traveling on a cargo ship that hits rough seas and capsizes, killing nearly everyone on board except Pi, a hyena, an orangutan, a zebra who has injured its leg, and a Bengal tiger named Richard Parker. All of them end up in one lifeboat, with the expected consequences. The hyena kills the zebra and the orangutan, and the tiger kills the hyena, leaving Pi alone with the tiger in the boat. Pi understands that he can't stay in the boat with the tiger, so he fashions a boat out of life rafts and attaches it to the life boat. The movie is essentially about the relationship that develops/evolves between Pi and Richard Parker. It is not a comfortable relationship by any means, and Pi knows that he can never trust the tiger to not attack him. But he trains him to keep his distance, and a wary relationship between the two results. When Pi is finally rescued, he is asked to recount his survival story to the insurance company that insured the cargo ship; they want to know what happened to the ship and how he survived for over two hundred days in the Pacific Ocean. He tells them about the animals in the lifeboat and the tiger, and they do not want to believe that this was possible--that he could coexist with a Bengal tiger for so many days. He then tells them a second story--that the orangutan was his mother, the zebra was a sailor who had been friendly to him on board the cargo ship, the hyena was the odious cook on the ship, and the tiger was Pi himself, essentially saying that the cook had murdered his mother and the sailor, and that Pi had murdered the cook. The insurance company has problems with the second story, and though they do not really accept the first story, they end up using it (fewer moral implications). Pi himself tells a visitor who arrives at the beginning of the film and who has asked him to recount his strange story, that either story will suffice as an explanation for his survival. It's a film that captures your attention and draws you along for the ride. 

The Wild Robot is a beautiful animated film about an intelligent robot called Roz who ends up shipwrecked on an island inhabited by various wild animals. Roz is designed to serve human beings, but in their absence, she sets about trying to offer her services to the different animals with whom she comes into contact. They begin to flee when they see her, but she ends up befriending a fox named Fink and taking care of a little gosling that she names Brightbill, together with Fink. Along the way, she helps the animals on the island deal with surviving the winter and with showing them how important it is that everyone try to work together. I won't give away the ending, but it is very touching, as is the entire film. It's heads and shoulders above most of the drivel that passes for animated films these days, which are for the most part bland, boring and poorly-animated (perhaps generated on demand by AI programs?). I can wholeheartedly recommend The Wild Robot. It's already a classic in my book. 

And finally, Conclave. I saw it at the movie theater last night. It's an excellent film about the process of electing a new pope in the Catholic church. That might not sound so interesting, but trust me, it is, because the process encompasses the humanity, the foibles and failings, the politics, the drama, and the gossip involved. It's a riveting film with excellent performances by Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, and Isabella Rossellini, and it has one heck of a surprise ending. I think it's destined for Oscar recognition, and that would be well-deserved. 

Inconsistencies

The odd times we live in have given rise to inconsistencies that are just begging to be commented upon. 

The political party of family values, headed by two powerful and wealthy men, have fathered seventeen children between them via six different women. The same party is pushing for the birth of more children in the USA, but is not anti-divorce or anti-adultery or pro-marriage for that matter. Family values? Don't make me puke. Having more children is all well and good, but I'm assuming that if they're not pushing for polygamy in order to achieve that goal, this means that in monogamous marriages, wives should be willing to have more than one child, despite the fact that it costs a fortune at present to raise a child, buy a home, and pay monthly expenses. So is the party of family values willing to give young couples a break so that they can have large families? And do women get a say in how they want to live their lives? Just asking. This brings me to the next point.

If the party wishes to return to 1950s America, when family values were apparently sacrosanct, when women stayed home to raise children (more than one) while men as heads of the family worked to provide for their families, then I'll say to the younger men who like this philosophy, get your asses in gear. Or get off your asses. Get out there and hustle for an education and high-paying jobs. 1950s America is no place for losers. You're a loser if you don't make a good salary and provide a house for your family. And you can forget about getting any help from mommy or daddy. Men in America at that time, unless they came from truly wealthy families, did not get help from anyone. They made it on their own. So get out there and work for a living instead of living at home with mommy and daddy until you're thirty. Stop living life through your devices. Stop moaning and complaining that women aren't interested in you. They will be if you show them that you can earn money. THAT was 1950s America. It was no place for men who were losers in the job market, whiners, or complainers. And there was no safety net. 

The men who support the current political regime are the men most likely to lose under it. It is not a regime that supports losers, the poor, the uneducated. It says it does and says it will, but it won't. It will enrich the already-rich. Because most politicians at present, in both parties, have grifter tendencies. They are interested in enriching themselves. That's the world we live in, that's the world we've become. Eat or be eaten. It's about survival of the fittest. And those at the top of the food chain got there by eating those at the bottom of the food chain. Study Darwin and you'll learn all about evolution, which as much as you'd like to deny it, is a reality and a fact of life. 

And of course, along with the new regime, comes the resurgence of viewpoints about how women should behave. Women, like children, should be seen and not heard, unless they're the 'dollies' on Fox News as my friend calls them. If you look 'glam', you're acceptable to men. If not, you're invisible. The non-glam women should just know their place, in relationships and in society at large. They should acquiesce to men. When I was younger, I had a conversation with a priest friend of mine where we disagreed about the New Testament passage that talks about wives obeying (submitting) to their husbands. What is often ignored is the second part of that equation--the admonition for husbands to love their wives as Christ loved the church. I told the priest, when men can achieve that, when they can love their wives as Christ loved the church, then come talk to me about wives acquiescing to their husbands in all things. I haven't met one man who has managed that type of love, not one. The priest had no response, because he knew I was right. And while we're on the topic, why should women listen to others less intelligent than themselves about how to live and think? There are so many women I know who are far more intelligent than many men. How they think and feel about their lives is far more important to me than what some random men (read--politicians) I do not know or care about, think. 

Is the party of family values going to do something about the dying middle class? Will they continue to blame the less fortunate for their status in life? Because no matter what, a civilized society will always have to carry the less fortunate, because that is what civilized societies do. My father used to say that. Christ, who was a wise man, once said that 'the poor you will always have with you'. What kind of society blames it citizens for not being financially successful when that same society makes it impossible to for its citizens to get ahead? If you're in debt up to your ears because of high prices for everything, you have no chance. The rich blame the poor for being poor. But perhaps the truly rich should look at the advantages that they've had from birth. They are not the advantages that the poor have had, that's for sure. And trust me, if you haven't had those advantages, you can scramble and struggle an entire lifetime to achieve success and never reach the level of wealth and success that the rich enjoy. Because many of the rich inherited their wealth; they did not work or struggle for it. Average ordinary people, who belong to the middle class that I was born into, worked hard to get what they have. Most of them have achieved moderate success. Most of them are financially-comfortable. But most of them would go under if faced with staggering medical bills as a result of some illness that required expensive treatments or full-time nursing care. And most of them are careful with money, with how they spend it. That is not something the truly rich need to worry about. The current level of hypocrisy in society is appalling. Perhaps it's always been there, but I see it in its entirety now. We need to call it out at every opportunity. The time to rise up against it is now.