Wednesday, December 24, 2003
The Road to Good Will
It's dark outside, and my house is filled with the smells of wood smoke and baking bread. I've broken out the Jack Daniels, and another Christmas Eve arrives here in Wisconsin.
It's peaceful here. We're hoping it stays peaceful, of course, but the world intrudes. In Baghdad, where it's already Christmas morning, Christmas Eve was anything but peaceful, as freelance journalist Dahr Jamail reports. Ominously, six Air France flights from Paris to the United States were grounded today based on credible intelligence of terrorist threats. With air defenses beefed up around the country, one hopes that Santa Claus can make it through tonight.
You do believe in Santa Claus, don't you? I absolutely do. In my hometown back in the 1960s, Santa met his public in a lovely double-wide on our town square, courtesy of the local mobile home dealer. One fine night we walked in, my brother and me (aged maybe 6 and 4) with our parents. Santa took one look at us and then called us by name--"Well, it's Jim and Dan Bartlett!" Since then, I have never doubted the jolly elf's existence. Not everybody believes in Santa, however--this explanation of the physics behind Santa's worldwide delivery has made frequent appearances in my e-mail box the last couple of days, although not everybody agrees with it. (The latter link proves that when physicists have too much eggnog, it doesn't necessarily make them less serious.)
But if you're persuaded neither by my personal experience nor by the laws of physics, there's one place to turn for the last word--to Cecil Adams, the World's Smartest Human. Cecil says, "Three hundred sixty-four days out of the year humankind commits all manner of heinous acts. On the 365th day we give toys to the kids.... The giving of gifts in such a way that no credit will devolve upon ourselves is sufficiently at odds with our routine behavior as to be accounted a mystery, and we may as well give that mystery a name. Santa Claus it is."
The world we claim to want is truly at odds with our routine behavior. The fact that the species is no closer this Christmas to our much-wished-for ideals of peace on earth and good will to men is not news. We never seem to get much closer to it, although sometimes, as in this painful year 2003, we seem to move farther away. Still, that we continue to hope for a world of peace and good will is not a bad thing, even if we do act like it's someone else's fault we don't have it yet. We seem to think other people make it impossible for us to be as peaceful and filled with good will as we know we are. "If those bad people didn’t make us conquer and destroy them, we wouldn’t have to. It's not us, it's them." But anybody with a conscience knows better. Peace on Earth and good will toward men begins at home, in our own hearts, our own houses, and our own country. We still might never make it to the perfect world. But on Christmas Eve, even the most cynical among us--your blogmaster, for one--can be persuaded to believe that we might yet find the wisdom to begin the journey. It's a sweet vision--even if it's just the Jack Daniels talking.
Barring catastrophic news, there will be no new posts until Friday or Saturday. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
It's dark outside, and my house is filled with the smells of wood smoke and baking bread. I've broken out the Jack Daniels, and another Christmas Eve arrives here in Wisconsin.
It's peaceful here. We're hoping it stays peaceful, of course, but the world intrudes. In Baghdad, where it's already Christmas morning, Christmas Eve was anything but peaceful, as freelance journalist Dahr Jamail reports. Ominously, six Air France flights from Paris to the United States were grounded today based on credible intelligence of terrorist threats. With air defenses beefed up around the country, one hopes that Santa Claus can make it through tonight.
You do believe in Santa Claus, don't you? I absolutely do. In my hometown back in the 1960s, Santa met his public in a lovely double-wide on our town square, courtesy of the local mobile home dealer. One fine night we walked in, my brother and me (aged maybe 6 and 4) with our parents. Santa took one look at us and then called us by name--"Well, it's Jim and Dan Bartlett!" Since then, I have never doubted the jolly elf's existence. Not everybody believes in Santa, however--this explanation of the physics behind Santa's worldwide delivery has made frequent appearances in my e-mail box the last couple of days, although not everybody agrees with it. (The latter link proves that when physicists have too much eggnog, it doesn't necessarily make them less serious.)
But if you're persuaded neither by my personal experience nor by the laws of physics, there's one place to turn for the last word--to Cecil Adams, the World's Smartest Human. Cecil says, "Three hundred sixty-four days out of the year humankind commits all manner of heinous acts. On the 365th day we give toys to the kids.... The giving of gifts in such a way that no credit will devolve upon ourselves is sufficiently at odds with our routine behavior as to be accounted a mystery, and we may as well give that mystery a name. Santa Claus it is."
The world we claim to want is truly at odds with our routine behavior. The fact that the species is no closer this Christmas to our much-wished-for ideals of peace on earth and good will to men is not news. We never seem to get much closer to it, although sometimes, as in this painful year 2003, we seem to move farther away. Still, that we continue to hope for a world of peace and good will is not a bad thing, even if we do act like it's someone else's fault we don't have it yet. We seem to think other people make it impossible for us to be as peaceful and filled with good will as we know we are. "If those bad people didn’t make us conquer and destroy them, we wouldn’t have to. It's not us, it's them." But anybody with a conscience knows better. Peace on Earth and good will toward men begins at home, in our own hearts, our own houses, and our own country. We still might never make it to the perfect world. But on Christmas Eve, even the most cynical among us--your blogmaster, for one--can be persuaded to believe that we might yet find the wisdom to begin the journey. It's a sweet vision--even if it's just the Jack Daniels talking.
Barring catastrophic news, there will be no new posts until Friday or Saturday. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
