Extreme Friendliness Disorder

The dog pees in big puddles

in the hall, down from our room

as if to punctuate, to add

but I don't want to complain

and drain meaning from the homeless fluid

that works to draw me

into the vet's waiting room

where I read Bark Magazine

as if The New Yorker

would be called Speech Magazine

Ha! Ha! Bark! Bark!

And it seems the domestic dog originated

in the Middle East, not Asia

but the real bark of the study was that

Williams Syndrome, which brings the curse of

Extreme Friendliness Disorder

is traceable, can be seen in dog genes

Bark Magazine does not deal, I think, in irony

in sadness

Domestication a syndrome

Civilization a disorder

Friendliness...oh God no...

my tail is wagging!

"We like the clarity of big wars"

According to Nicholas Schmidle, New Yorker Magazine staff writer (Trump's Pentagon tries to move on from the war on terror, Jan. 19, 2018), U.S. foreign policy advisors expressed new alarm in 2014 when Russia annexed Crimea and occupied Ukrainian territory.  According to Phillip Breedlove, then the top U.S. general in Europe, "All eyes were on ISIS all the time."  

According to Breedlove and other Pentagon policy-makers, since 9/11 the U.S. has to some extent wasted time concentrating on non-state terrorism, while the nation-state system has been working towards its historic force, so that now, while we are distracted by terrorism, superpower nation-states can challenge us again.

We learn that U.S. military policy is changing in response.  The latest National Defense Strategy report asserts: "Inter-state strategic competition, not terrorism, is now the primary concern in U.S. national security," with China and Russia "principal priorities."  Schmidle quotes an official who describes the current Pentagon view as, "Real men fight real wars.  We like the clarity of big wars."

Leaving aside the question of what kind of wars real women fight, we can only wonder what "clarity" to expect.  

Will it be the clarity of chess, in which one knows who the enemy is and what his/her defenses are? Will it be the clarity of an emotional state that focuses all hate, love, fear, desire, uncertainty, panic and despair on a specific human group? 

We've been through this before, whether against states or small cadres.

I close with a brief look at the causes of World War I.

On a clear summer day, June 28, 1914, Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria, heir to the throne of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, arrived in Sarajevo.  Waiting for him was Gavrilo Princip, one of a group of six assassins, members of the Serbian Black Hand Society, which sought independence from the Empire.

At the same time, throughout Europe and the Americas, people were desperately lonely.  They could not relate to each other by talking or having sex or cooperating in the workplace.  Of course, talking and sex and working together took place, but during these activities people felt an emotional vacuum.

When the Archduke was assassinated, newspapers called for revenge and honor.  The empty place inside people yearned for this conflict because no one has time to be lonely when they are busy killing and being killed.  Male loneliness in particular might be assuaged because, as many vets have testified, camaraderie in battle surpasses any other.

When the lonely people were sold on the idea that there would be no more loneliness during a major war, they showered support on their governments, and young men enlisted.  Four years later, 18 million people were dead and, presumably, no longer lonely.    

Further reading: 

Point Counter Point, by Aldous Huxley.  

Human Smoke: The Beginnings of World War II, the End of Civilization, by Nicholson Baker 

The income tax: We were sucker punched

As April 15 approaches, I'm getting the feeling I have each year at this time that I’ve been had. There's the humiliation of needing to pay for certified mail because of the IRS’s diminishing ability to keep track of returns (and its imperious habit of blaming the mailer), and it doesn't help that every time I turn on the news I learn about some new way the piggy bank we call the U.S. government is opening its riches to graft and greed of all kinds, with foxes guarding the henhouse.

But most importantly this year, I’m upset by knowledge I gained about the history of the federal income tax from a concise and powerful essay by Harvard historian Jill Lepore ,“Tax Time: Why we pay" (New Yorker Magazine, Nov. 26, 2012). Lepore makes clear, in a way you never hear from our prominent anti-tax voices, that the income tax was foisted on America through a con job as deceitful as any on the street.

Lepore is non-partisan, though she may consider herself liberal. Her skill is in stating facts that do the debating, leaving aside whether they come from the right or left.

She writes: “Since the 70’s all the political talk has been about cuts, surprising because more than 90% of Americans receive social or economic security benefits from the federal government.” Much of the article deals with the practice, originating ironically with New Deal and Great Society liberals, of identifying government support like Social Security, unemployment insurance, Medicare and Medicaid as types of insurance, while Aid to Dependent Families and Food Stamps are “welfare.” Seen in Lepore’s light, the current conservative assault on taxation is based on a false premise, that the people protesting “welfare” are not themselves receiving it.

Lepore puts our present political stalemate in historical perspective, starting with this rather obvious thought from Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.: “Taxes are what we pay for civilized society.” That’s easy to forget these days. From the moment you get up in the morning you are supported by things paid for with your taxes, whether it’s the safety of your neighborhood and your drinking water, or the road you drive on. It’s hard to argue that taxation itself is a bad thing in some absolute sense.

But we were not always taxed so much.

Before the Civil War, Congress raised revenue almost exclusively through tariffs- duties on imports. Lepore relates that this made sense to Thomas Jefferson, because, as he explained, “…it (a tariff) falls exclusively on the rich.” This is the beginning of a long history in which taxation has been presented to the American public as a tool to curb the wealthy.

In 1862, after noting that the British funded the Crimean War with an income tax, Lincoln established the Bureau of Internal Revenue, which, per Lepore, was “charged with administering a graduated tax that taxed incomes of more than $600 at 3%- at the time, the average income was about $300- and incomes of over $10,000 at 5%. The Confederacy’s lack of political will to do the same cost it revenue and is thought to be a contributing factor in its defeat.”

After the war, the federal income tax was allowed to expire, over the protests of John Sherman (of the Sherman Antitrust Act), a Republican from Ohio, who, Lepore says, ”…argued that tariffs were a burden on the poor and that only an income tax could properly tax the rich.”

By the 1860’s most states taxed property, largely to pay for the Civil War, but there was still much sentiment that taxes should be levied on the rich.

In the 1880’s, Lepore recounts, “Populists advocated an income tax…believing that it was essential to the survival of a democracy undermined by economic inequality. In the aftermath of the Panic of 1893, the Populists prevailed. By then, income taxes had become commonplace in Europe.”

Yes, you read that right: Populists advocated the income tax, because it was conceived as taxing mostly the rich, while taxing little or nothing from the middle class and poor.

In 1894, a 2% federal income tax passed that applied only to Americans earning more than $4,000. But, per Lepore, “the next year…the Supreme Court ruled, 5-4, that the tax was a direct tax (on income, not goods and services) and unconstitutional. Dissenting, Justice John Harlan said the ruling had turned provisions ‘originally designed to protect the slave property’ into ‘privileges and immunities never contemplated by the founders,’” references to the Constitutional debate over whether slaves were taxable property or people. The Southern view, per Lepore, is the origin of the American anti-tax movement.

Lepore continues: “In 1896, the Democratic Party (prevalent then in the South) for the first time endorsed an income tax, ‘so that the burdens of taxations may be equally and impartially laid, to the end that wealth may bear its due proportion of the expenses of Government.’”

Lepore gives great significance to the San Francisco earthquake of 1906, which, she explains, “…caused the financial panic of 1907, leading to the 16th amendment, in 1913, which granted Congress the right to levy an income tax, and to establishment of a central banking system, the Federal Reserve.”

The panic of 1907 and the recession and widespread unemployment that followed produced a giant boost for populism, and thus for the prospects of an income tax. Lepore writes: “A purpose of a federal income tax was to undergird the Treasury with a stable source of revenue. But it had another purpose, too. The richest 1% of households, which had held about a quarter of the nation’s wealth in 1890, now held more than a third. The tax was intended to answer populist rage at the growing divide between the rich and the poor. In the election of 1908, both parties favored an income tax (Democrats hoping to close that gap, Republicans hoping to quiet that rage).”

Republicans won and William Howard Taft supported the 16th Amendment. It passed easily in 42 of 48 states, 6 more than required, and took effect on Feb. 25, 1913. The House voted on an income-tax bill in May, and Woodrow Wilson signed it in October. Its highest rate was 7%. The next year the Bureau of Internal Revenue printed its first form 1040.

Lepore writes: “The Revenue Act of 1916, anticipating the US entry into the war in Europe, raised taxes….Rates on the wealthiest Americans began to skyrocket, from 7% to 77%, but most people paid no tax at all.” Lepore quotes W. Elliot Brownlee’s “Federal Taxation in America: A Short History”: “By 1918 only about 15% of American families had to pay personal income taxes, and the tax payments of the wealthiest 1% of American families accounted for about 80% of the revenues.”

What happened to the once common view that the income tax was to be levied specifically on the wealthy? Lepore recounts how the shift happened: “Business interests fought back. Wilson’s tax policies were one reason that his party lost Congress in 1918, and the Presidency in 1920. In 1921,Wilson’s successor appointed Andrew W. Mellon, industrialist and philanthropist, as Secretary of Treasury- he served under three Republican presidents. The American Bankers League became the American Taxpayers League, and paid the expenses of state ‘tax clubs’ whose members testified before Congress, urging tax cuts. Under Mellon (whose family supported tax clubs) and at his recommendation, the excess-profits tax was abolished, the estate tax was cut, capital gains were exempted from income, and the top tax rate was capped at 25%. “

Mellon wrote that high taxes kill “the spirit of business adventure,” and claimed that lowering taxes would raise the standard of living. He set the ideology of the current anti-tax movement, using the exact opposite of the populist reasoning employed to talk the middle class and poor into the income tax.

Lepore explains the origin of our current distinction between Social Security, Medicare et al as insurance, and “Welfare” as a hand-out: “The crafters of the New Deal were squeamish about taxes, so they decided to fund Social Security with an indirect tax, on payroll, so they could caste the taxes as insurance premiums.” Great Society liberals continued the usage with Medicare and Medicaid. Thus today, the 59 million Americans who benefit from Social Security do not consider themselves on welfare- a conservative view supported with liberal terminology.

Lepore details a number of attempts from wealthy interests to annul the 16th Amendment, and she writes “in this period, the 30’s, the business lobby succeeded in redefining American citizens as ‘taxpayers,’ a practice that politicians have followed ever since.” Interesting how susceptible our vocabulary is to manipulation. It is common now for politicians to refer to citizens as “taxpayers.” Who knew this was purposely introduced to convince people that paying income tax is a duty of the citizen?

Lepore continues her history into the World War II years: “The Revenue Act of 1942, which included a steeply progressive income tax, broadened the tax base: before long, 85% of American families were filing a return. Tax hikes were sold to the public as emergency measures, ‘taxes to beat the Axis.’”

But, Lepore observes dryly, “The wartime tax regime survived into peacetime.”

Moving into the post-war years, Lepore writes, “Eisenhower’s Cabinet included the former president of General Motors. With Eisenhower’s pro-business Administration, Adlai Stevenson said, 'New Dealers are making way for car dealers.'”

The Cold War kept the gravy train rolling. And the rest is history.

A fascinating history, for sure, but I’m feeling scant consolation today, as April approaches. Knowledge is supposedly power, but only if anyone recognizes the knowledge. Our mouthpieces in the current anti-tax crusade, whose voices dominate everyone else’s, seem intent on an amalgam of fact and expedient fiction, garbled now to the point where I doubt anyone knows exactly where in our two party system sentiment for tax reform belongs. So much for power.

Meanwhile I keep reading the news and learning how the money my wife and I and our kids earn and then give up to the IRS is flying out of wide open doors to any scam artist with the proper grease and sophistication in what appears a truly bipartisan effort. I’ll keep paying my taxes, sure- as they say, you can’t fight city hall. But if we can’t have a rational public discourse on taxes, can we at least close a few of those wide open doors?

Lasken op-ed, "Critical Race Theory is divisive," Los Angeles Daily News, June, 2021

[https://www.dailynews.com/2021/06/20/critical-race-theory-is-too-ideological-divisive-for-our-schools]

Notes on Yuval Harari's "Homo Deus"

"Is there anything more dangerous than dissatisfied and irresponsible gods who don't know what they want?" 

Yuval Harari

Born in 1976, Yuval Harari is an Israeli historian and professor of history at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. The quote above is from his previous book, Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind, (2011), which makes the point that human culture in the post-tribal age of large populations (over 300) derives its coherence from "fictions," mental constructs with no concrete reality, such as gods, money, laws, nations and human rights. 

In Homo Deus, A Brief History of Tommorow, (2015) Harari describes our future: Through bio-engineering, artificial intelligence and advancing medicine we will become, by definition, gods, with indefinitely long lives and complete creative license to design ourselves and our environments.  

Harari's logic is compelling, though one might add that we don't know what a god is, only what it does.  As in physics, where we label atomic particles in terms of their behavior and effects on other particles- not in terms of what they are, which we don't know- so, even though we may define a god as "a super-human being or spirit worshipped as having power over nature or human fortunes" (OED), that describes what a god does, not what it is.   Whatever a god is, though, that's what we're going to be, Harari writes.  The transformation will usher in the age of Homo Deus, and herald the eclipse of Homo Sapiens.  In other words, we're about to go extinct. 

Harari writes: 

"Every day millions of people decide to grant their smartphone a bit more control over their lives or try a new and more effective antidepressant drug.  In pursuit of health, happiness and power, humans will gradually change first one of their features and then another, and another, until they will no longer be human." 

Harari is as much concerned with our progeny's difficulties in figuring out how to be gods as he is with our extinction: 

"When humankind possesses enormous new powers, and when the threat of famine, plague and war is finally lifted, what will we do with ourselves?  What will the scientists, investors, bankers and presidents do all day?  Write poetry?" 

He may have answered his own question.   Others have come to the same conclusion about our final purpose.  In Arthur C. Clarke's The City and the Stars (1956) a vision of ultimate humanity features two small human settlements on a desert-covered Earth of the far future. One of the groups lives in a self-sustaining mechanical environment of which no one knows the origin and which no one has any idea how to operate or repair (fortunately it operates and repairs itself). Inhabitants spend their time writing poems and sending them to each other.  The other group lives a tribal, nomadic life in portable tents. Their distinguishing feature is that they are telepathic, so no one can lie. Presumably they handle honesty by communicating in poetry.

Speaking of which, I ran the Homo Deus idea by my friend Harry the Human and his friend Robert the Telepathic Gila Monster (see link below). Robert was skeptical. He said humans will need a little practice before they can be proficient gods. He said gilas have dabbled in it for millions of years, adding that the transformation represents a re-bonding with the cosmic womb, which Robert says is humankind's goal anyway, though we won't admit it. 

Harry responded with a poem:  

Deus ex machina

By Harry the Human 

If I were a god

I'd find it odd

that even a clod

who'd been so awed

by seeming divinity

though he felt no affinity

would be flung to the void

feeling scared and annoyed

where a soul should have buoyed

godlike views, not destroyed 

them.

Yes, imagine! We are gods, writing poems like this for all eternity!  

Be that as it may, Harari is an exceptionally thorough, clear and fascinating author, the perfect antidote to the infantilism of the U.S. electoral season now unfolding.  

[For my desert friend Harry the Human's take on Harari, along with that of his companion Robert the Telepathic Gila Monster, see: http://harrythehuman.harrythehumanpoliticalthoughtsfrombeyondthepale.com] 

Walter Lippmann

When I was ten years old, in the summer of 1956, I took a four-day train trip with my maternal grandmother from Los Angeles to Syracuse, New York, where my mother was raised. I can’t recall the thinking behind this trip, but it was memorable in many ways. 

Syracuse was memorable for being hot and not Los Angeles. I walked down my mom’s childhood street, East Genesee, where young Rod Serling (doo-doo-doo-doo/doo-doo-doo-doo) used to greet her. There were strange names of things, like Onondoga Lake, strange at least to me because L.A. has no lakes or onondogas. The city seemed small in my mind because I thought the size of L.A. was normal. 

I stood in front of Syracuse University and watched a young man throw rocks at the lights over the entrance, smashing some. He looked at me and said, “I’m just upset.” 

We stayed with my grandmother’s two surviving sisters, who were memorable for sure. More about them some other time. I’ll just say that Lithuania must have been some place! 

There was another memory- this one from the train ride back to L.A.- that was jiggled into my frontal lobe this morning while I watched a vintage Youtube clip of Noam Chomsky discussing Mikhail Bakunin, 19th century proponent of “collective anarchy.” Can you guess the connection between these random elements and the train trip with my grandmother? Give up? Well, in the Youtube clip Chomsky makes a reference to Walter Lippmann, American journalist prominent from the 1920’s to the 60’s, whom Chomsky refers to as a “progressive intellectual.” Long story longer, on the trip back to Los Angeles, Lippmann was on the train. 

I had been staring out the window at midwest flatlands when my grandmother, an accomplished schmoozer, rushed up to tell me that a famous journalist, Walter Lipmann, was on the train, and he wanted to meet me.  Of course I didn’t know Walter Lippmann from Adam, but I dutifully followed my grandmother through several cars, particularly relishing the rocking chaos and noisy intrusion of the elements in the connecting platforms. 

We stopped in the aisle in one of the cars and looked down at a well-dressed and groomed man in his 60’s who was sitting alone reading. My grandmother introduced me to Walter Lippmann, the first famous person I had ever met, though he was not famous to me. I felt the familiar pressure of not knowing how to respond to an adult. Lippmann looked fondly at me, but he did not say anything about progressive intellectualism, which makes sense because I was a dumb kid with no virtues beyond the sweetness of youth, and I would not have understood a word he said. 

I don’t remember what he did say. He probably asked me how I liked school. I would have found that question as hard as any other.  I was near mute in my responses. 

As I watched the Chomsky clip I remembered how frustrating and wasteful the encounter with Lippmann had seemed to young me.  If only I had known anything!   In later years the feeling of waste grew as I learned that Lippmann was a critical political interpreter for millions of people. He was behind President Woodrow Wilson's "14 Points" at the close of World War I.  He coined the term “cold war” and created the modern meaning of "stereotype" (formerly "relief printing plate").  Few people have this much impact on their language, and all I could do was stare at him.  

Well, through the magic of literature, I’m going to attempt something rather daring.  If you will bear with me, I plan to initiate a “wormhole” through which my mentality will travel back to that train in 1956 and infuse my prepubescent brain with the requisite knowledge for a decent conversation with Walter Lippmann.  That’s the theory.  I have a wormhole spell I picked up from a character of my acquaintance. Would you like to try it too?  Ok, here goes.   Repeat this with me and perhaps we’ll meet: 

I call you from a crevice near

Have no regret and have no fear

Oh wormhole mine forever dear

Collapse a distant past to here! 

Man, what’s happening?  Oh yeah, I’m entering the mind of ten year old me!  First observation: No wonder I was uncomfortable meeting Lippmann.  Talk about a blank slate!  My young brain is devoid of understanding or perspective on so many levels.  Any personality in there is a restless sea of emotion and longing.  There is no basis whatever for discourse with Lippmann. 

Now for the delicate operation, as I insert the "stereotype" and “cold war” material into my young head.  Upload complete!  Now to activate voice control.  I’m pushing metaphorical buttons.  Uh oh, something’s happening…did we just lose an hour?  Do you remember?  Here’s what I recall: 

Hello Mr. Lippmann, it’s nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you, Douglas. 

My grandmother is beaming.

Mr. Lippmann, how did you get everyone in the world to use the new definition of ‘stereotype’ that you made up?

I don’t know. I didn’t expect that to happen.

Did you expect everyone to start using ‘cold war’ too, after you made that up?

The phrase was from my book, ‘Cold War.’ It’s flattering that so many people found it apt.

Yes, it certainly was apt. 

Young me is getting into it, never suspecting where the useful knowledge is coming from.  Now young me’s enthusiasm for the new normal is taking an unexpected turn, as young me grows neurons which invade my adult mind, making permanent connections to my knowledge base.  The results appear bizarre if not disturbing, as my first more youthful questions are replaced with questions of a more adult cast. 

Mr. Lippmann, are you an elitist?

Hmm, Douglas, do you know what an elitist is?

Yes, it’s a person who thinks they’re better than everyone else.

I don’t think that I’m better than everyone else. Do you think you are?

I…well…. 

Strangely that question is as hard for adult me as young me.

I mean, I don’t know what’s better or not better, Mr. Lippmann, but you wrote that you don’t think the general public can run humanity’s affairs. 

My grandmother frowns. 

Is that so? You read on a high level for a ten year old!

I do? I mean, thank you. You wrote that when people watch the news they are not educated by it.  You said the news constructs a picture of reality that is 'imperfectly recorded,' and 'too fragile to bear the charge as an organ of direct democracy.'

Lippmann glances at my grandmother, who is in a suppressed rage. He looks back at me. 

Very good, Douglas, but you are conflating a critique of the media with a belief that elites should rule. 

I'm feeling something strange happening, a sort of merger of youth and age.  I'm not sure how to form my words.  Lippmann notes my hesitation. 

Douglas, do you know what ‘conflate’ means?

I think it’s when two people fart at the same time. 

What is happening to me?  Is there a hint of smile on Lippmann’s face?  There is no such hint on my grandmother’s face.  I try to salvage the situation. 

Mr. Lippmann, do you think that elites should rule? 

Lippmann is looking at me the way you might look at a chess-playing chicken. 

That’s not a valid question, Douglas, because elites do rule, by definition. You might as well ask if birds should fly. 

Should they? 

 Lippmann laughs.  I feel clever.  I want more approbation, so I continue. 

Mr. Lippmann, you wrote in 1922 that ‘mass man functions as a bewildered herd who must be governed by a specialized class.’

Douglas, I’m just describing reality, not saying it’s good.

Have you heard of Noam Chomsky?

No. 

He said that you believe that 90% of the population are "ignorant, meddlesome outsiders," and that we need to be ruled by "the wise men…you know…the smart people."

Is that so, Douglas? Sounds like Mr. Chomsky is one of those smart people himself. 

He is a professor of linguistics at MIT.

So, is he a member of an elite?

I guess, maybe. 

Out of nowhere I have an intense need to pee, and I'm so restless I long to turn from Lippmann and my grandmother and charge down the aisle, push the heavey metal door open and step through, finally expressing my energies and maybe fluids in the interstitial madness of the coupling platform.  

But my grandmother has had enough. She thanks Lippmann profusely and demands that I shake his hand and thank him, which I do.  A quick glance into Lippmann’s eyes tells me that little harm has been done to the universe.  On the walk back to the restroom and our seats my grandmother is silent.  When we sit, she sighs. 

Dougie, sometimes I don’t understand you. 

I'm too busy trying to unplug the weird connections in my head to reply.  Through the window I see vast plains roll by.