I Wonder What My Dad, Grandfather and Uncles were doing on June 6, 1944?

This is the 70^th anniversary of D-Day. I wonder what my father, grandfathers and uncles did that day. My paternal grandfather would turn 50, 24 days later. He was too old for the killing war, but I doubt if he was spared any of the wrath of living with his wife, Viennie May.

My father would have been fifteen years old, well past the end of his formal education and well into screwing up his life so bad only extreme religion could rescue him.

My uncles would have been all around my father’s age, John, Richard, Jesse; dad’s brothers, all a few years older than him, but for varying reasons, not in the war. At least I do not recall any stories of any of them being in the war. It is possible Richard was, but I do not know for sure. We have sort of lost touch with that side of the family since most of my cousins would not shake hands with me after dad gave an invitation preaching grandpa’s funeral, after members of the family explicitly told him not to.  

Mom would have been ten years old, still in school; but out for the summer and no doubt doing some sort of work in a farm field or maybe sitting around bored, playing with dolls or who knows just what.

They would all have been relatively happy, healthy, with plenty more years ahead; years with no major hospital stays or long-term illnesses to set them back. I was still twelve years over the horizon and mom and dad would have had no clue who their life partner would be.

Dad would have still been a no-heller, as he would later refer to his mother and other members of the family that stayed with the beliefs she shared with them; the beliefs of Ted Garner Armstrong and Herbert W. Armstrong – from the radio program: “The World Tomorrow!”. As I recall, that father and son team thought of themselves as prophets, not knowing they were simply two more religious fanatics that would have a heyday and then pass on into oblivion the same as if they had never existed.

On that day, brave deeds were done in the name of international salvation - rescuing freedom from tyranny - would be how history would characterize it; but for the majority of Americans, I bet it was mostly just another day.

Even that great war, must have seemed far away, vague and mysterious to dad, mom and the other average Americans. To this day, I suspect mom would not be able to point out France on a map with no labels, let alone Normandy. News did not travel as fast back then, especially to rural South Carolina; so I suspect if she heard anything about the whole thing, it would have been when she went back to school in the Fall of 1944, which would probably have been the fifth grade for her. One of her teachers may have mentioned it, or maybe the preacher might have said something on the subject from the pulpit.

Boys she and dad had grown up with, who were a few years older; may have been on the beaches that day – may have died. The news would have come that several families in the general area had been affected. The same would have been true for three years before and a few months after; news of tragedy, suffering, hardship abroad and at home; of widows, fatherless children, lost brothers, lost sisters, lost hope, lost dreams.

Franklin Roosevelt was the president. He would not die for several more months. He would have been sixty-two years old, but not in the best of health. Sigmund Freud would have been dead for almost five years, on D Day; his interpretation and analysis work long past; none of which was sufficient to rescue humanity from yet another calamity brought on by what he would have assumed was a vast unconscious conspiracy.

Einstein would still be around, not dying for another ten years; about to see one of the products of his work unleashed on Japan; events that would drive him to pacifism and philosophical rumination.

The inimitable George Bernard Shaw, born the same year as Freud, would have been 87 years old, his great works known around the world, his Nobel and Oscar prizes behind him. His socialism would still not be all that feared but a few years later, its more rabid cousin – communism, would become the scourge of every U.S. conservative.

I am glad I was born after all this turmoil, after the “good war”; and certainly glad to not have been born between 1920 and 1925. The young people, mostly men let’s face it; born during those five years would wind up bearing the brunt of the coming siege, WW II. Whether a young man was born in Germany, Britain, France, Italy, Japan, or the United States; 1920-1925 were not the optimum years to later have on the left side of your tombstone, because chances were good, whatever numbers were on the right side of your tombstone, would not have been much higher; anywhere from 19 to 24 years higher, in many cases.

The Los Alamos project in Mexico, launched in 1943 with an annual budget of $2.2 billion and with 9,000 employees; was a great success, in terms of meeting goals. That was where the Manhattan Project secretly went to be completed.

On D-day, the great men and women there in New Mexico, were nearing completion of their nuclear project. A year later, the world would see what they had been working on and it would bring the proud Japanese to their knees.

So much was going wrong 70 to 75 years ago, but that one day – June 6, 1944; most of the world looks back, remembers and thanks the brave young people who hurtled onto the beaches and did not yield until the war tide was turned.

I am a pacifist. I hate the thought of wars, and struggle to call even that war “good”; so this is my sort of tribute to those people. The ones who made it possible for the world to turn the corner toward another era of peace, the ones who paid the highest price, I have no trouble calling those people “good.”

Poetry, Short Stories, and Other Forms of Innovation

I will try to explain how I believe writing poetry or short stories is like creating a new product, developing the concept for a startup business or figuring out how to invest venture capital.

First, I will investigate the process of writing poetry, I will then do the same for short stories and finally, I will make the connection between these two processes and those things I just mentioned.

How does one write poetry? Writing high-quality poetry is different from writing low-quality poetry. Based, in part, on years of writing the latter with an occasional breakthrough into the former; in part on what I have learned from reading it and finally, on what those who really know the subject say; I will offer my opinion on the difference between high- and low-quality poetry.

First, high-quality poetry is complex. It may be simple in terms of the words used, rhyme or meter, metaphors, etc; but ultimately, it will have a level of complexity beneath its apparent simplicity, or it may be obviously complex. Here are examples of the type of complexity to which I refer, first subtle and then obvious.

Not Ideas About the Thing, But the Thing Itself

Wallace Stevens

At the earliest ending of winter,

In March, a scrawny cry from outside

Seemed like a sound in his mind.

He knew that he heard it,

A bird’s cry at daylight or before,

In the early March wind

The sun was rising at six,

No longer a battered panache above snow . . .

It would have been outside.

It was not from the vast ventriloquism

Of sleep’s faded papier mâché . . .

The sun was coming from outside.

That scrawny cry—it was

A chorister whose c preceded the choir.

It was part of the colossal sun,

Surrounded by its choral rings,

Still far away. It was like

A new knowledge of reality.

Infanta Marina

Wallace Stevens

Her terrace was the sand

And the palms and the twilight.

She made of the motions of her wrist

The grandiose gestures

Of her thought.

The rumpling of the plumes

Of this creature of the evening

Came to be sleights of sails

Over the sea.

And thus she roamed

In the roamings of her fan,

Partaking of the sea,

And of the evening,

As they flowed around

And uttered their subsiding sound.

Why is it necessary for good poetry to be complex? Because anything else is cliché,

trivial, without depth. We can all produce simple poetry, but it takes a master to write poetry containing true depth and lasting meaning.

Second, good poetry is beautiful in its design, form, structure. A poem may be beautiful because of its rhyme pattern, its meter, the combination; but mostly it is beautiful because all of its facets fit together sort of like the color and shapes of flowers fit.

Third, good poetry pays tribute to the poetry that came before but adds something too.

Something similar is true of short stories. They have complexity, beauty of form, fit into the stream within the genre; but they also include life characterization, internal coherence, and are distinctively crafted. Some writers are overtly clever and some are more subtly so; but all the good ones are clever in their own way.

Good poetry and short stories do not exist outside of other poetry and short stories; much as products, businesses and investments do not exist outside of a context.

Each new product, business or investment builds on the ones that came before, but adds something of value and in the best cases; something of great value. Sometimes what is added is within the existing frame and sometimes it is as if the new breaks the old frame; but nonetheless, there was a frame to break, to use as the starting point.

The best innovation will be complex, beautiful and build on past creativity. It will also tell a story in which deft characterization, internal coherence and distinct craft are evident.

It's Hard Helping People Overcome Laziness

I suppose I will, as is often the case, pretend you asked me what I have been up to lately; and proceed to tell you. Most recently I have been teaching grown people, aspiring to business success by getting an MBA degree; to think critically, to be good members or leaders of teams, and to be creative in their life. Before you try to flatter me by saying, that sounds exciting, or I am sure you are good at teaching those things or at least, I am sure you like teaching those things; let me say this; all three of the subjects boil down to this one bit of advice: stop being lazy. That’s it. That’s all I had to tell them in the end, although of course I made it sound like much more.

Lazy thinking leads to people making claims they cannot support with evidence or if they do have supporting evidence, the lazy thinker makes unwarranted inferences from the evidence. So, yes, stop doing that; I would say. Of course, it’s more complicated than just laziness. Most of us come to think that in certain circles we have graduated to a status giving us the right to make truth claims without making warranted inferences from valid evidence. Instead of approaching each truth claim as independent of the others, requiring us to meet high standards; we rest in the assurance those around us will not ask more of our thinking.

But lazy thinking does not stop there. It makes us too secure even in the face of evidence that we are biased and untrustworthy as thinkers. Most of us enjoy being right and believe we mostly are, so once we know the subject at hand; we recall our prejudice and begin to talk. We might, as William James said, spend a little time rearranging our prejudices and call it thinking.

Lazy thinking also gets us in trouble when we are working as a member of a team or trying to exert leadership over other people. Since we know what we believe and how much better everything would turn out if everyone on our team shared our belief, we seek to convince them and of course, they are doing the same to us. It’s hard work trying to convince others you are right when they are trying just as hard to convince you they are. It’s hard work, and let’s face it; annoying as hell; but it is not as hard as actually working on ourselves so that we are not always confronting others with no room for our own growth or compromise.

So, other people challenge us to either stop thinking lazily or to find a group of people that will not challenge us so much. Imagine living with constant refutation of your ideas or worse – your beliefs. Pretty soon you might stop fighting and let others be right or you might learn to pick your battles and only contest their beliefs or ideas when it is essential.

Any successful team represents ongoing compromise among its members, quite a sophisticated accomplishment and one that requires a lot of hard work. To become really good at being with others as a teammate or leader, we will need to not only be good at compromise episodically, we will need a strategy for being good across episodes.

Everyone needs to be nurtured, catalyzed or inspired, to feel they are progressing and to have confidence that they will be able to make it through future inevitable setbacks. I need these things, you need them and everyone on your team will too.

The successful team member or leader develops a way of being among people that nourishes them, inspires them, makes them feel they are progressing and confident and that they can withstand issues sure to come up in the future. Imagine being on a team full of people who understand this. Imagine being led by someone who gets this. A lazy person will never develop the capacity to be this sort of teammate or leader. It’s hard work, but gosh it feels good when you can look around and see evidence you are doing it! I have at times, although I am by no means a natural or advanced at it.

Ultimately, being this sort of teammate or leader requires creativity and let’s be honest; on some level, creativity is merely a diligent way of contemplating reality. The creative person does not give up on finding novel solutions and novel solutions are almost never the easy ones to see. These solutions require perseverance and good thought habits.

Just as the critical thinker had to overcome her tendency to try to get by with irrelevant evidence and unwarranted inferences from the evidence, and the successful teammate and leader had to overcome the tendency to fight or flee but not develop people strategies; the creative person must learn to move more quickly than others past cliché responses to life’s challenges into the realm of novel solutions.

Lots of evidence from science and just life, suggests that most of us would prefer to remain lazy, tend toward disorganization and basically seek to just get by as easily as possible in all we do. But the world demands more of anyone who will be successful. We will need to work hard at our thinking, at being with others and at coming up with novel solutions to problems.

The three are not separate issues. No doubt, a tough-mindedness with regard to our own thinking is prerequisite to developing a strategy for being a teammate or leader and fashioning a life of seeking and finding novel solutions to life’s problems.

It makes me tired just thinking of how hard it is to be successful, but when you break it down into these three challenge categories, it makes it at least seem like something we can all accomplish; if we start with solid thinking, figure out how to work well with others and to pursue the freshest approach to problem solutions.

It almost makes me want to stop just teaching students how to do these things and start doing them myself; but then, that sounds too much like work. Those who cannot do all this can surely teach others to do it, right? Although, I will say, it is not easy helping other people overcome their laziness.

Angels All The Way Up

When Tanga walked into the kitchen this morning as I was pouring my hot water for tea, seeing her reminded me of her, but it also made me wonder what she was thinking when she saw me and whether what she was thinking included her wondering what I thought of her and maybe even whether I was wondering, as she might have been, whether I was thinking of her thinking of me as I was thinking of her thinking of me. You see how this could be an infinite regress, sort of like the turtles response reputedly given to Bertrand Russell when after his lecture, a woman said she believed the universe was held up by a giant turtle and when he asked her what was holding up the turtle, she said: “Sir, you are not going to trick me, it’s turtles all the way down.”

This infinite regress issue is also at the heart of the Munchhausen trilogy, wherein an Englishman was said to lift himself and his horse out of a muddy bog, by pulling on his own hair. That is obviously impossible, but then when it comes to picking ourselves up by our own bootstraps, so to speak; most of us will admit to have considerable faith in that.

This is also called the unmoved-mover problem, and it comes about because of consciousness and even beyond that, awareness of awareness. The person who freezes up on the dance floor because she becomes painfully aware others are staring, is aware of what it means for others to be aware of her. She will likely not get hung up on the infinite-regress problem, however; her concern will be closer to what might be called a finite regress problem: being aware others are paying attention to you without locating it in the complete hall of mirrors of infinite awarenesses.

It must be this that suffocated the life out of celebrities such as Michael Jackson and Princess Di, two apparently shy people made to live under intense scrutiny; although, some people apparently relish scrutiny – thus turning the “problem” into a “project.” I have in mind those who go on the show, Dancing With the Stars.  I suspect this might be a temporary infatuation with celebrity and they too might surfeit of it once it became clear that their every move was being scrutinized. If you've ever been stalked by one person, imagine being stalked by everybody.

Of course, the biggest problem we face as humans is not infinite regress or finite regress, it is – no regress. That is, at some point what we do stops being noticed and then we die; or perhaps it is the other way around.  At some point we lose consciousness and our awareness of this inevitability lies at the center of most of our existential angst.

This entire issue is rooted in our fundamental uncertainty, which can be summed up in these questions: where are we, why are we here, what are we supposed to be doing here, and where are we going?

If you never ask those questions, you are probably not overly concerned with infinite regress or related issues. Most of us learn to stop thinking about the hall of mirrors for our own sanity. It’s difficult for me to do my job, be a husband, or a father, or a friend, etc.; if I spend a lot of time on these why questions. I would never bring this up with my wife, for example. In fact, I seldom reflect on it myself. But is there benefit in doing so? I think there might be.

If I contemplate me thinking of you thinking of me as I think of you and so on like that, I am doing about as well as I can in placing our relationship in philosophical, perhaps even phenomenological context.

In fact, this sort of thinking might be a type of salvation for those suffering from the finite regress problem; such as celebrities constantly being made aware of the scrutiny of others by the paparazzi. If the celebrity stops to consider that she too is curious as to what goes on in the lives of others she might have more understanding of those who treat her existence as their entertainment. In fact, is it not amazing how much of what we do appears to be dictated by being a member of our species and not just being conscious.

Apparently, being conscious is not only about being aware of our own existence, but it is also about being aware of our existence in the context of others and aware of the existence of others. Given how curious we are about the lives of others, particularly lives different from our own; we must get some sort of deep meaning from gathering data on the differences and studying the similarities. Most of us love reading biographies or at least learning the backstories of the lives of other people. The human-interest stories are one of the best parts of the Olympic-game coverage.

We learn about ourselves by studying how those similar to us live. If they are terribly different from us, their lives will not be as interesting to us; unless, of course, they started where we are and were able to travel a distance we ourselves aspire to travel in the course of their lives.

I like contrasting my good qualities against the bad ones of others and comparing my good ones to the good ones of others. If I see someone doing something selfless, I will have a little bit of understanding of how she felt if I too have done similarly selfless things for others. If I do good in situations where others are doing bad, or if I succeed where failure is rampant; I feel transcendent and life is by definition, too seldom transcendent.

Sometimes I fix my imagination to the star of someone else and in so doing, I will be hitching my star to a person who has hitched her star to someone else, who has done likewise and so on. Maybe this would be called: infinite progress? I guess if the infinite regress problem is the ultimate misuse of our consciousness, infinite progress might be the ultimate use of it.

The next time you aspire to be like someone else, you should realize you are no doubt part of a long chain. In fact, you might say when it comes to dreaming big and making those dreams come true, it’s angels all the way up.