FedorasR4Lovers's Xanga

Thoughts in Detroit: Of Hell and Hell Fire; or, Can we Rise from the Ashes?

Fri, 07 Jul 2006 02:16:55 GMT

I still owe you a super-post on Europe, but I've decided to do a little local news before that. Or maybe a lot of local news. This post is rather long.

However, first I owe you, mes chers lecteurs, an explanation. It's been quite a while (nearly two weeks now) since I ended my travels, and up untill now I haven't posted. What have I been doing with my time? Well...very much and nothing at all.

Now, I'll tell you right now (for those who haven't observed it) that I detest the whole idea of "being busy", and it takes immense personal discipline for me to not be angry at being pestered. I don't how common such a character trait(flaw? for I feel that it isn't inherently, yet often becomes, just that--but then again, that's true of every aspect of humanity) is, but at least I know I'm not alone: C.S. Lewis nailed the sentiment perfectly with his self description in Surprised by Joy as one who has "always been more violent in my negative than in my postive demands. Thus in personal relations, I could always forgive much neglect more easily than the least degree of what I regarded as interference...In the course of life I could put up with any amount of monotony far more patiently than even the smallest disturbance, bother, bustle...Never at any age did I clamor to be amused; always and at all ages (where I dared) I hotly demanded not to be interrupted." It's really one of the most important aspects of my personality. Now, with that little personal insight, you can why I didn't feel up to writing lately, when the majority of my time since coming home has been given to the very worst breed of such "interruptions"--the kind where you have been occupied constantly for quite some time, but can't point to a single achievement to show for it. I just wanted to light everything on fire then sit down without distration to read my book by the light of the blaze.

And it is just that--fire--that I have been meaning to get to after that rediculously long explanation for not posting (an explanation, I will note at my own expense, is not an excuse).

The part of my title line, "Of Hell and Hell Fire", comes from a chapter name in Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, which I am reading right now. GREAT book. I strongly recommend it to all of you (who can stand a 1000+ page novel). You see, after I wrote that paper-of-mega-death on Dostoevsky I became very interested in his writing. the stuff he deals with is exactly the kind of stuff we need to be thinking about, considering the state of things in our society right about now(and again, I know it's been a while, but I'm sure you can remember that I'm not exactly happy with the way things are these days).

And that brings me to my second part, about whether I think things can change. And it leads me to a story....

About three centuries ago, almost to the day, a little French fort and fur trading colony called Fort Pontchartrain du Detroit (Ponchartrain on the Strait) was established. A century later that city (population: 600), newly American and called simply Detroit, was burnt to the ground--only one house survived. But a Catholic priest named Gabriel Richard established a vision for rebuilding the city, which was crystalized in his statement that became the city's motto: Speramus Meliora; Resurget Cineribus--"We Hope For Better Things; It Shall Rise From the Ashes".

And it did. Add another century, and the city (poulation 314,000) was a center of trade and manufacturing, and was just creating its automobile industry. At the bicentennial celebration, a time capsule was buried, not to be uncovered for another 100 years. In it was a letter expressing "one supreme hope" for the city's future--"that whatever failures the coming century may have in the progress of things material, you may be conscious when the century is over, that, as a nation, people and city, you have grown in righteousness, for it is this that exalts a nation. "

As this next century progressed, the city experienced phenomenal success, and within fifty years it had become the Motor City, 2 million strong, the industrial capital of the world. But the success didn't last, and the next half of the century it fell to pieces. A few years ago, when that time capsule was dug up, the city had certainly not grown in righteousness; rather, it had been torn to pieces by entrenched corruption, racial conflict, and violent crime.

But it didn't have to be that way. And more importantly, it doesn't have to continue this way. And there is a chance for change. The auto industry has fallen with the city, but there's an opportunity for the biggest of the Big Three, General Motors, to be rebuilt. There is talk of a possible merger with Nissan-Renault. Now, it's no fun to think of a French company having a stake in GM, but there CEO Carlos Ghosn revived Nissan and may be able to do the same for them. And, as irksome as it is that I have to look at a giant picture of this German guy in an add for his website that's platstered on the side of the Chrysler HQ, everyone has to admit that Chrysler is benefiting from the Mercedes partnership.

It's not a cure all, it only adresses on of the city's problems, but it's a start.

So what's my point in all this? (besides that it's creepy to see that mustachioed man taking up the whole side of this building, and that Fr. Gabriel Richard's escape from France during the Reign of Terror was proof yet again that France has a tendency to exile it's best citizens)

Well, it is that for my city, state, country and culture, I will continue to hold on to the motto Speramus Meliora; Resurget Cineribus. Our efforts may be to little, the West may continue to fail, to be burnt to the ground. But we will continue to "Hope For Better Things", and work for the day that we can see it "Rise From the Ashes."

Well, that's all, mes amis.

'Later

Isle of Man, Isle of Man; or, Does Whatever and Isle Can

Sun, 18 Jun 2006 11:01:58 GMT

Wow, It's been a while since I touched this, hasn't it? Well, to be fair, I've been busy. Oxford, Cambidge. The Original College Towns. Did I mention that I took out some time in London to make a pilgrimage to Canterbury? It was my favorite place I've been, actually. I loved it. anyway, the point is that after Cambridge I went to (the real)Oxford, then Bath and the Cotswold Villages(Funny story about a National Fowl Trust--but when I come home to (the fake) Oxford I'm going to write a much more detailed account of my travels). Then Bristol, Cardiff, Caernarfon and small-town Wales, Ferry from Liverpool, the Isle, Ferry to Belfast, and now here, stuck, becuase apparently there4's only one bus from Belfast on Sunday. It's okay, not a major obstacle. Just a slightly unpleasanty surprise.

Speaking of unpleasant surprises, I was bit by a spider on my finbger while visiting the Avesbury Stone Circle (kind of a lesser known Stonehenge), and rather than transforming me into The Amazing Spider-Man, I soon found that I was having difficulty with muscle control in my left hand. Which was unfortunate, to say the least. But it got better by the next day, so I'm not going to worry about it. Oh, and the Isle of man is a neat if obscure place, and I'm out of time.

I'll leave you with this thought: There's no place like home.

Well, that's all, mes amis

'Later

Cursed Above All Other Mortals; or, This Place is a Furnace

Thu, 08 Jun 2006 21:41:02 GMT

again, no real formatting and blAtant typos.

So I'm in London right? nd the worst thing that could possibly happen, of course, happens: I 'misplace' (read 'lose') my passport. panic, frustration, nd three hours at the embassy later, and I got a temporary passport that s good for the next year (although its plastic instead of cloth, and looks horribly fake.).

One bright spot: I was able to help a dual U.S.-Israeli Citizen file his missing passport report while I waited for the joys of bereaucracy. It was nice meeting you, Simon. I hope you're trip to see you're family turns out nicely. I also hope mine turns out nicely as well.

So far, with the passport an exception, it has been decent. One observation in London: It is Exactly everything I've ever been told, both good and bad. It's also horribly expesive, but nevermind that.

One thing that has disapointed is that it hasn't rained yet (although the rainy england stereotype comes more from the north and west, Herr Pearse said). But I hope it does soon; I need to use that cheap umbrella that I picked up at that market in Bosnia that only recently has been cleaned up enough to not be literally 'the black market'. If I can't buy rocket launchers anymore, at least let me use the umbrella! Honestly..........

Speaking of umbrellas, I need of of those for the shower I'm about to take here, If I really want to survive. The shower temperature isn't adjustable--but unlike most of these types of things, this one is too hot instead of too cold. way to hot. like, It actually works out nicely that I still need to build my own rocket launchers, because I can get all my welding done by the heat of this shower.

Well, anyway, that's the news from the front lines, and,

Well, that's all, mes amis

Later

"No time for chit-chat"; or, the Joys of Tying Without Standard QWERTY

Sat, 03 Jun 2006 20:25:20 GMT

Im in a hurry, so formatting must go out the window.

Pensees......

Internet and everthibng is expensive. Hats are expensive, but wonderfula and worth the cost: seven hats and counting.

People are simple, and all thouroughly corrupt. I dont see how anyone could believe otherwise.

What I would do for good food and enough of it...

I dont believe you can trust anyone with power, which is why im a Christian and a libertarian.

This continent doesnt understand the virtues of peanut butter--or the virtues of virtues, but that goes for pretty much everywhere else also.

Italics arent called Italics in Italy, theyre called Corsivo.

Angleterre en trois jours...

Well, thats all, mes amis

'Later

Where am I?; or, What Ever Happened to That Guy Who Used to Ramble on This Website?

Sun, 28 May 2006 21:29:19 GMT

What, mes chers lecteurs, has become of me? Well, the answer simple: Canada, England, Hungary, Croatia, Montenegro, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia, Slovenia, and Italy.

Yes, I know what you're thinking--"Wouldn't Canada alone have been enough to ruin you're life?" well, the answer is yes, yes it would.

But that is also somewhat beside the point. And the point is, after my essay of death on Dostoevsky, I went home, packed and made plans, spent a night in Toronto, then flew away on a plane that "served" (read "sentenced us to")......"Bangers and Mashed" (read "the lips of the seriously ill, cut off and put into gravy")

Whhhhhhaaaaattt?

After which, I had the great joy of spending 8 hours in London--at the airport.

Then it was off to Hungary and beyond, more detail mabe some other time, but I need to get sleep because it's midnight here and tomorrow I have to be up early for a rediculously long bus ride to Belgrade (Beograd).

And yes, I thoroughly enjoyed writing that sentence. Travel is happiness.

Oh, and I'm coming up with ideas for so many books (not even about the trip in particular, more about philosophical ideas like "the necessity of inherent meaning"), I just hope one day I have the time and the skill to write them.

And finally, check out this rather troubling thing--the winner of the Eurovision song contest I had the (mis?)fortune of watching while here.

Pourquoi??????????

(apologies to canadia, the people of northern britain, anyone with eyes and a soul, and others who may be offended by this commentary.)

Well, that's all, mes amis.

'Later

The Fight Against Nihilism; or, Dostoevsky (and myself, for that matter)

Mon, 08 May 2006 03:17:31 GMT

I bet you wonder, mes chers lecteurs, what it is exactly that's consuming my life and keeping me from active posting (or active anything)? To put it simply, it's this:

Dostoevsky is not only a philosopher, he is also a philosophical problem.

--George Florovsky,"On Studying Dostoevsky"

Well, that's all, mes amis.

'Later

Celebration; or, the Storytellers

Fri, 05 May 2006 17:10:46 GMT

It's a girl!

Congratulations, Jack, and best wishes, Karen.

And congratulations again, Jack, for The Raconteurs.

(The album comes out on the sixteenth, mes chers lecteurs.)

Detroit Rock City.

Well, that's all, mes amis.

'Later

Lost; or, Forms of Ignorance

Thu, 04 May 2006 05:54:06 GMT

Note: It's been a long time since i've posted, but that is because I have been (and continue to be) horribly busy in Finals Week, and because I spent several days working on this beast of a post.

Before going on that little (fake)Rochester escapade, I figured I would come back with some decent little stories that could be use launch into a discussion about why I am not an idealist (I consider myself a realist with ideals, or a pricipled realist); instead, I found a great story to help explain my belief in varieties of ignorance. Although--for reasons--I can't write about the whole story, I will try my best to give you, mes chers lecteurs, an idea of what happened.

(Oh, and forgive me, becuase the political comments are about to come hard and fast, and I'm going to use a lot of political jargon, in kind of a satire of the left, but mostly just of excessive leftist (intellectual class--more on this further down) ignorance.)

I generally despise demonstrations. In my opinion, aproximately 10 of 10 activists are blind and bitter partisans.

So I was loathe to go to a demonstration to "raise awareness"--that term is almost as inextricably connected to left-wing causes as "social justice" or "people power" (which to those who say these things invariably really means "socialism" and "government ownership of capital"). But these guys for Invisible Chlidren seemed different. They weren't calling to for massive government donations to whoever-is-on-the-ground-in-x-third-world-nation (a "new Marshall Plan", right? That's a completely original idea.), they were simply asking for government pressure on Uganda for peace talks, in continuation of the peace talks for the related war in the Sudan. Like Sudan, not particularly in our geostrategic interests, but nevertheless, a worthy cause for which, to create change, would demand only relatively little U.S. effort.

So, I went.

Now, I still believe that this was a worthy cause and deserved my attention. However, that being said, the whole experience started me thinking about demonstrations in their worst caricature of a form.

Now, the event went well, but do to some rather unhappy occurences afterwords, a couple of us--myself included--ended up in a very bad neighborhood (I would like to note that I was not responsible for getting this group lost--not only that, but I was the one who got us out. Although i can't deny that I'm the sort of person who does get lost a lot--because I'm thinking or talking and I don't pay enough attention to the Immediate; this time, at least, it wasn't me.)

So anyway, after finally getting out of the there through some--interesting--circumstances, we made our way back to Houghton, although we did make a stop to eat at a little country diner.

So, what is the point of me saying all this? Well, I reflected on the people of three clashing cultures (one way to classify America's culture of thought would be to divide it into these three groups; it fits really nicely): the lofty idealism of a student protest, the gritty virtues of a city cop working a rough neighborhood, and the simple honesty of country farmer.

I realized that all three have their sort of "natural errors". The student (representing the intellectual class) is prone to, (like me when I get lost driving) at his worst, focus on abstract ideas to the point of ignoring the Close things out of existence. This is the reason he will often support ideas which have dreadful results in real life; he is to fixed on the feel-good rhetoric of rigid ideological orthodoxy.The police officer (representing the military/law enforcement class) at his worst becomes totally desensitized to the awfulness of the rough world in which he must operate. Thus, things such as police and soldier brutality appear. The farmer (representing the blue-collar worker class) is, at his worst, proudly insular and hateful towards the Abstract. This is what feeds rascist groups and anti-government militias.(as a side note, modern societies have far more intellectuals, far fewer military/police people, and somewhat fewer "blue-collar workers" than premodern ones; as a result, the errors of modern societies as a whole tend towards the errors of the intellectual class more than they did in previous societies. This is one factor in my explanation for the 20th century decline of religion)

Thus, many conflicts start because...

The student hates the military because he can't see that war is sometimes a necessity, and hates the farmer for not appreciating the Distant or the Abstract. The policeman hates the student for tying him down with regulations, and hates the farmer for disregarding government authority. The farmer hates the student for not seeing the value of what is Close and Concrete, and hates the policeman for telling him what he can and cannot do.

Now, although at their worst these groups fall victim to terrible ignorances, at their best they can easily see different truths. By not despising those in different social groups from ourselves, we can learn from them and gain a better understanding of the whole seamless truth.

I apologize, mes chers lecteurs, for the fact that this became a philosophical essay (even more than usual). But it's something I've been thinking about for a while and the events of the other day just pulled it all together. I may even go further if I have time some day and write something big about this. But for now, anyway, I decided to force it upon all of you in xanga form.

Oh, and kudos to anyone who found the grammar link in this post.

Well, that's all, mes amis.

'Later

Off to (the fake) Rochester; or, Doing Something Worthwile

Sat, 29 Apr 2006 20:14:34 GMT

Invisikids(more on this later)

One Thursday; or, Travelers and Little Effort

Thu, 27 Apr 2006 20:02:34 GMT

Oh, R.L.S., you're such a great author:

THE CITIZEN AND THE TRAVELLER.

"LOOK round you," said the citizen. "This is the largest market in
the world."

"Oh, surely not," said the traveller.

"Well, perhaps not the largest," said the citizen, "but much the
best."

"You are certainly wrong there," said the traveller. "I can tell
you . . ."

They buried the stranger at the dusk.

Haha. From his fables. I'm pretty sure that if you can have a patron author, (sort of like the concept of patron saint) then mine's Robert Louis Stevenson.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, this is called "me not wanting to put a great deal of effort into my update today". But beyond, that, I was also hoping to let you see a glimpse of one of my favorite authors, and see that he did more than just Treasure Island and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. There's only one other author who I identify as easily with: C.S. Lewis. (who, again, wrote a WHOLE LOT more than just Narnia).

Just in case any of you are interested in my literary tastes.

(Oh, and speaking of tastes, lunch today was the best thing to happen to me in a long time. thanks, guys, for finally feeding me food)

Well, that's all, mes amis.

'Later