Much has been made of the so-called "liberal bias" in our nation, particularly in the mass media. And, maybe there is something to that idea--I'm not sure, partly because I don't even know how to measure such a thing. And I should add that there are "conservatives" out there--columnist George Will, for example--who have a reasonably informed and coherent point of view, even if I seldom agree with the tone and substance of what they say.
However, some things are really not "liberal vs. conservative" issues. When a relative tells me that it's a "fact" that God condemns homosexuality, that's not a "conservative" view--it's an ignorant view. When Pat Robertson counsels a woman on the air who is engaged to an atheist that she needs to break up with the man because he is aligned with Satan, that's not a "conservative" stance--that's sheer idiocy. And when televangelist Jack Van Impe says that the rapture will occur sometime between 2002 and 2018, that's not a "conservative" idea, but a crazy one. (I dearly hope that both Jack and I are around in 2019--I'd love to hear what he says then!)
In other words, sometimes what we call "liberal" views are merely informed views, and what we sometimes call "conservative" beliefs are simply ignorance. How different would our understanding of some of these issues possibly be if we saw them for what they actually are: not a conflict between liberalism and conservatism, but a gigantic chasm separating enlightenment from stupidity.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Health care reform, anyone?
A huge chunk of the world makes no sense. Take the so-called "health care" world (in quotes because "health" hardly seems like the goal of the system). Recently my spouse was confronted with an episode of atrial fibrillation--basically, an elevated, irregular heartbeat. She spent one night in the hospital--ONE FRICKIN' NIGHT. No surgery, nothing special except an echocardiogram, a couple of drugs, and the standard types of monitors.
The bill for one night in the hospital? TEN THOUSAND dollars! ($10,118.85, to be precise) Now, insurance will pay for $5129.69 of that, and another $4544.59 is an "insurance discount," whatever the hell that is. That leaves us to pay $444.57. I guess one says at this point, thank goodness for health insurance--but isn't there something terribly wrong here?
Also, Helen's arrhythmia was measured in a clinic, and because she was so irregular, they insisted that she take an ambulance to the hospital. And what was the ambulance bill (separate from the hospital bill)? A mere $1445--$1265 for the 9-mile ride to the hospital, plus another $180 ($20 per mile) in mileage. Insurance is paying $1156 of that, leaving us to pony up the remaining $289.
So, the total for both, for 24 hours of care: $11,563.85. If that isn't a case for health care reform, I don't know what is. This is no way to run a railroad.
The bill for one night in the hospital? TEN THOUSAND dollars! ($10,118.85, to be precise) Now, insurance will pay for $5129.69 of that, and another $4544.59 is an "insurance discount," whatever the hell that is. That leaves us to pay $444.57. I guess one says at this point, thank goodness for health insurance--but isn't there something terribly wrong here?
Also, Helen's arrhythmia was measured in a clinic, and because she was so irregular, they insisted that she take an ambulance to the hospital. And what was the ambulance bill (separate from the hospital bill)? A mere $1445--$1265 for the 9-mile ride to the hospital, plus another $180 ($20 per mile) in mileage. Insurance is paying $1156 of that, leaving us to pony up the remaining $289.
So, the total for both, for 24 hours of care: $11,563.85. If that isn't a case for health care reform, I don't know what is. This is no way to run a railroad.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Prepare to live; prepare to die
Just eight days ago--May 14th--marked the 39th anniversary of my dad's death. On May 14th, I always think of dad, and this year the thinking has been more personal, since I am now exactly the same age as dad was when he passed on (on the operating table, in the middle of heart bypass surgery). If that doesn't bring home the theme of mortality, I don't know what will. But of course, I have my semi-legitimate reasons, as well as my semi-rationalizations, as to why I will surely outlive him. However, for the moment, I'll be happy just to "break the family curse" and get to age 59. [There is no such curse, but I like the scary sound of it.]
Along the way, down the path of life [please, spare us the trite metaphors!] I have come to realize two very paradoxical things: that I must be prepared to live, and I must be prepared to die. They are both important, although they don't always co-exist especially well. Today I can prepare to live by consuming vast quantities of yummy, gooey cheese pizza--but then, I need to be prepared to die from clogged arteries! And today I can prepare to die by getting all my affairs in order--but then, damn, I missed that party last night! Jeez--what's a fellow to do?
Big surprise here: there are no easy answers. But at some points in time--hopefully more frequently than less--I say to myself, "Go for it--have fun! You only live once." And at other points in time--again, maybe not every day but hopefully every week--I say to myself, "Are you prepared for the possibility that you could die today? And are you really ready for that?" The two issues are both important ones, and the trick seems to be to address each of them sufficiently well that you can let each of them go. You need to be able to say, "I am ready to live, and I am also ready to die." But, ready or not, here I come!
Along the way, down the path of life [please, spare us the trite metaphors!] I have come to realize two very paradoxical things: that I must be prepared to live, and I must be prepared to die. They are both important, although they don't always co-exist especially well. Today I can prepare to live by consuming vast quantities of yummy, gooey cheese pizza--but then, I need to be prepared to die from clogged arteries! And today I can prepare to die by getting all my affairs in order--but then, damn, I missed that party last night! Jeez--what's a fellow to do?
Big surprise here: there are no easy answers. But at some points in time--hopefully more frequently than less--I say to myself, "Go for it--have fun! You only live once." And at other points in time--again, maybe not every day but hopefully every week--I say to myself, "Are you prepared for the possibility that you could die today? And are you really ready for that?" The two issues are both important ones, and the trick seems to be to address each of them sufficiently well that you can let each of them go. You need to be able to say, "I am ready to live, and I am also ready to die." But, ready or not, here I come!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Barack rocks
Say what you will about our new President. The guy isn't perfect. But the last few months have been such a breath of fresh air that I can't help but feel grateful that Mr. Obama is in charge.
I have not felt proud about the United States of America for some time. Over the last eight years, we have done things, especially in the foreign policy arena, for which we should be ashamed. The Iraq war in particular has been a nightmare--a colossal waste of money, energy, and lives. And we have fought the "war on terror" with rules that are even beneath the likes of Jack Bauer. Anyone who writes a virtual blank check on forms of torture and degradation is as unAmerican as can be; don't let pious "patriots" tell you that the U.S. is somehow entitled to ignore important humanitarian and legal principles. In both the short and the long run, these principles are our very soul and give us our best hope for true global influence.
The closing of Guantanamo is a welcome first step. So is--despite criticism from the right--going to Europe and owning up to our arrogance on the world stage. And the idea that we should actually talk with our adversaries--a weak and pitiful idea in the minds of some--may have had something to do with the release this week of an American journalist in Iran.
On the home front, there's finally some hope--a sense that we can make progress. And the White House itself has become more the kind of place with which we can identify. A dry drunk is no longer running the show--it's OK to be a little more casually dressed and a little less anal. There's a vegetable garden on the grounds. Gay people are invited to participate in important events. And there is culture in the house--imagine a President who professes to really like poetry! And his wife is just as attractive and smart as anyone we've had as a First Lady.
A long, painful nightmare has ended.
I have not felt proud about the United States of America for some time. Over the last eight years, we have done things, especially in the foreign policy arena, for which we should be ashamed. The Iraq war in particular has been a nightmare--a colossal waste of money, energy, and lives. And we have fought the "war on terror" with rules that are even beneath the likes of Jack Bauer. Anyone who writes a virtual blank check on forms of torture and degradation is as unAmerican as can be; don't let pious "patriots" tell you that the U.S. is somehow entitled to ignore important humanitarian and legal principles. In both the short and the long run, these principles are our very soul and give us our best hope for true global influence.
The closing of Guantanamo is a welcome first step. So is--despite criticism from the right--going to Europe and owning up to our arrogance on the world stage. And the idea that we should actually talk with our adversaries--a weak and pitiful idea in the minds of some--may have had something to do with the release this week of an American journalist in Iran.
On the home front, there's finally some hope--a sense that we can make progress. And the White House itself has become more the kind of place with which we can identify. A dry drunk is no longer running the show--it's OK to be a little more casually dressed and a little less anal. There's a vegetable garden on the grounds. Gay people are invited to participate in important events. And there is culture in the house--imagine a President who professes to really like poetry! And his wife is just as attractive and smart as anyone we've had as a First Lady.
A long, painful nightmare has ended.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Half-marathon anxiety
Never mind that I have run 33 races at a half-marathon or more (6 marathons, 6 25Ks, and 21 half-marathons): when a road race is imminent, I get a little anxious and see my life pass before me. Especially with advancing age, I think to myself, could tomorrow be the day when something bad happens?
Rationally, I know better. This is like flying in an airplane--the odds are surely on my side, but then, you just never know! But I also know that I can be competitive--if not with others, with myself. And that means I can push harder than I should. And I can get preoccupied with times--now that I've been finishing in less than 2 hours at this distance, I would be disappointed if I reverted to my 2:15-ish times of a few years ago. And so I must tell myself to enjoy the journey and try to forget about times. The goal here is merely to finish, and to be around for the next one in a few months.
Running is still a religious experience for me, and it gets me as close to my best self as anything I know. To be lost in the rhythm of my strides, to take in the scenery, and to feel everyone else in the same quest is as near as I get to a peak experience. And I am so incredibly grateful that I can still churn out the miles after all these years; it's the one activity that always enables me to feel young. Because, after all, I'm really just a 22-year-old kid trapped in the body of someone much older.
If I should keel over at mile 11 or 12, I would also have to say that it's my preferred way to go. But tomorrow morning in New Prague, I hope to once again discover the wonder of seeing that finishing gate just a few hundred feet in the distance.
[Postscript: it's now the noon hour on Saturday, and the New Prague Half Marathon has come and gone. I'm happy to report that I didn't keel over and die, but there was a nasty cold headwind for miles 9, 10, and 11, which made things a little grim. Still, I managed a 1:59:53--under 2 hours--which is my goal these days. And so I live to run another day!]
Rationally, I know better. This is like flying in an airplane--the odds are surely on my side, but then, you just never know! But I also know that I can be competitive--if not with others, with myself. And that means I can push harder than I should. And I can get preoccupied with times--now that I've been finishing in less than 2 hours at this distance, I would be disappointed if I reverted to my 2:15-ish times of a few years ago. And so I must tell myself to enjoy the journey and try to forget about times. The goal here is merely to finish, and to be around for the next one in a few months.
Running is still a religious experience for me, and it gets me as close to my best self as anything I know. To be lost in the rhythm of my strides, to take in the scenery, and to feel everyone else in the same quest is as near as I get to a peak experience. And I am so incredibly grateful that I can still churn out the miles after all these years; it's the one activity that always enables me to feel young. Because, after all, I'm really just a 22-year-old kid trapped in the body of someone much older.
If I should keel over at mile 11 or 12, I would also have to say that it's my preferred way to go. But tomorrow morning in New Prague, I hope to once again discover the wonder of seeing that finishing gate just a few hundred feet in the distance.
[Postscript: it's now the noon hour on Saturday, and the New Prague Half Marathon has come and gone. I'm happy to report that I didn't keel over and die, but there was a nasty cold headwind for miles 9, 10, and 11, which made things a little grim. Still, I managed a 1:59:53--under 2 hours--which is my goal these days. And so I live to run another day!]
Sunday, May 3, 2009
God: Santa on steroids
As humans, we love Superheroes. I remember one of those Christopher Reeve Superman movies (Superman II), where Superman is so sorry for something he did that he manages to turn back the clock--literally turn back time--by rapidly flying around the Earth the opposite way that it rotates, making the Earth "spin backwards," and then earning a "do-over" as a result. Considering the total mass of the planet, wow--that's one powerful dude! (No one ever explained how making the Earth rotate the other way could actually turn back time, but who cares about those trivial details....)
Santa Claus, of course, is another one of our most fabled Superheroes. Santa knows every little girl and boy. He has a list; he's checkin' it twice; because he knows who's naughty and nice. (If you've never thought of Santa as "godlike" in this respect, I don't know where you have been.) Now grown-ups understand the fiction involved. And when little Johnny asks a probing question such as, "How can Santa go to all those houses in just one night?" or "How does he get into a house that doesn't have a chimney?" we quietly nod and smirk a little bit, admiring in part little Johnny's emerging critical thinking skills, and amused and challenged to find an explanation for little Johnny that will continue to make the charade somehow vaguely believable. But whether it be Superman or Santa, we know through and through that stupendous stories and amazing claims are not to be taken literally or seriously.
Yet for some, God is a very notable exception. In the view of some people, God is essentially Superman and Santa on steroids. God can do absolutely anything. Like Santa, God is watching over us all the time. And considering that there are probably trillions of sentient beings in the universe (surely you don't think that God created all this just for you and me), He has an amazing filing system. Think for a moment about what it would take to monitor even the 6 billion people on this planet every second of their lives; it is way beyond mind-boggling. And if God can even read our thoughts, which some believe, that adds yet another fantastic layer of data. (And, all this makes me even more self-conscious if I happen to fart or pick my nose--sorry, Big Guy--I'm only human!) The notion that God sees all, knows all, and can do all is so patently ridiculous that it's amazing people can't see through it. If they can see through Santa, why can't they see through such notions about God? Well, I'll answer my own question: because they really don't want to. Perhaps if they read The Future of an Illusion by Sigmund Freud they would have at least a basic appreciation of the human psyche and its less-than-rational nature.
Santa Claus, of course, is another one of our most fabled Superheroes. Santa knows every little girl and boy. He has a list; he's checkin' it twice; because he knows who's naughty and nice. (If you've never thought of Santa as "godlike" in this respect, I don't know where you have been.) Now grown-ups understand the fiction involved. And when little Johnny asks a probing question such as, "How can Santa go to all those houses in just one night?" or "How does he get into a house that doesn't have a chimney?" we quietly nod and smirk a little bit, admiring in part little Johnny's emerging critical thinking skills, and amused and challenged to find an explanation for little Johnny that will continue to make the charade somehow vaguely believable. But whether it be Superman or Santa, we know through and through that stupendous stories and amazing claims are not to be taken literally or seriously.
Yet for some, God is a very notable exception. In the view of some people, God is essentially Superman and Santa on steroids. God can do absolutely anything. Like Santa, God is watching over us all the time. And considering that there are probably trillions of sentient beings in the universe (surely you don't think that God created all this just for you and me), He has an amazing filing system. Think for a moment about what it would take to monitor even the 6 billion people on this planet every second of their lives; it is way beyond mind-boggling. And if God can even read our thoughts, which some believe, that adds yet another fantastic layer of data. (And, all this makes me even more self-conscious if I happen to fart or pick my nose--sorry, Big Guy--I'm only human!) The notion that God sees all, knows all, and can do all is so patently ridiculous that it's amazing people can't see through it. If they can see through Santa, why can't they see through such notions about God? Well, I'll answer my own question: because they really don't want to. Perhaps if they read The Future of an Illusion by Sigmund Freud they would have at least a basic appreciation of the human psyche and its less-than-rational nature.
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