Tag Archives: dictators

Second Meditation on Democracy [written Monday, August 7, 2007] REPUBLISHED

https _s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com_736x_ee_59_33_ee593300e425c02784549e0228c025e1In the begin­ning years of this blog, I pub­lished a series of arti­cles called “Med­i­ta­tions on Democ­racy and Dic­ta­tor­ship” which are still reg­u­larly read today, and have had some influ­ence. They still elic­it inquiries from remote cor­ners of the globe. They are now buried in the back pages of the blog, so I’m mov­ing them up the chrono­log­i­cal counter so they can have anoth­er round of vis­i­bil­ity, espe­cially (I hope) with younger read­ers. I am re-post­ing them in their orig­i­nal sequence over part of 2018. Some ref­er­ences in these “med­i­ta­tions” will date them to 2007–2008, when they were writ­ten. But I will leave them un-retouched, though I may occa­sion­ally append some ret­ro­spec­tive notes. Most­ly, they deal with abstract issues that do not need updating.


14-03-18 BLOG SECOND MEDITATION ON DEMOCRACY

Þingvel­lir, the out­door site of the medieval Ice­landic elect­ed par­lia­ment. Þingvel­lir, the out­door site of the medieval Ice­landic elect­ed parliament.

Civ­i­liza­tion is the process in which one grad­u­al­ly increas­es the num­ber of peo­ple includ­ed in the term ‘we’ or ‘us’ and at the same time decreas­es those labeled ‘you’ or ‘them’ until that cat­e­go­ry has no one left in it.” — Howard Win­ters, an Amer­i­can archae­ol­o­gist who stud­ied ancient set­tle­ment and trade pat­terns [quot­ed by Anne-Marie Cantwell in Howard Dal­ton Win­ters: In Memo­ri­am]

“Voice or no voice, the peo­ple can always be brought to the bid­ding of the lead­ers. That is easy. All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the paci­fists for lack of patri­o­tism and expos­ing the coun­try to dan­ger. It works the same in any coun­try.” — Her­mann Wil­helm Göring, sec­ond in com­mand to Adolf Hitler. Read more »

Tuesday, February 16, 2016 — Juniper and Bones

I can­not smell juniper with­out think­ing of small bones. I have very strong smell mem­o­ries, some­times stronger than visu­al mem­o­ries. I can still call up in my mind the smell of the north rim of the Grand Canyon, the myr­i­ad smells of dif­fer­ent deserts, the scents of tama­rack and black spruce as you get near the Wînipâkw, the smells of the blessed neem trees in Kano, the spring lilacs in Cana­di­an towns, the com­fort­ing scents of fresh­ly-sawn lum­ber, the many smells of snow in dif­fer­ent settings.

Hold that thought, for I must digress.

I just re-read Edgar Pangborn’s A Mir­ror for Observers for the eighth time. The only oth­er nov­el I’ve read as many times is Lewis Carroll’s Through the Look­ing Glass. Reg­u­lar reread­ings of Carroll’s mas­ter­piece would not sur­prise any­one — I’m sure there are peo­ple who have read it dozens of times — but you might find it puz­zling that I would give equal loy­al­ty to a sci­ence fic­tion nov­el writ­ten in 1954, by an author who was respect­ed in his day, but nev­er a high-pro­file celebri­ty in the field. A Mir­ror for Observers is not even his best known book (though it is his best). I read the book in child­hood, and it imprint­ed itself on my mind so vivid­ly that I hard­ly need­ed to reread it, for I could play out every scene in my mind at will. But, at reg­u­lar inter­vals through­out a life­time, I have read it with full atten­tion. Read more »