It quite easy to be enlightened,
said the Lamp,
once you get turned on.

- from James Broughton, High Kukus

more than one way to conquer

It is pretty obvious that the debasement of the human mind caused by a constant flow of fraudulent advertising is no trivial thing. There is more than one way to conquer a country.

- Raymond Chandler, letter in Raymond Chandler Speaking (1997)

beyond the wreckage of taboos

The Australian 'prison poet' Peter Kocan writes: The ills multiply as we unlearn / The ancient wise humility of men / Who saw, beyond the wreckage of taboos, / Despair and madness, hatred and disease / The promised payment in the promised coin. He gives voice to what many social conservatives feel: that to reject the time-honoured wisdom and experience of the traditional ordering of our culture, and a sense of humility in the face of this shared and profound experience, will ultimately land us in a bad place. They are suspicious of novelty and innovation in most areas of life - less in the technological realm perhaps, definitely more in the moral.  Believers too - although believers do not have to be social conservatives perhaps most of us are are - believers believe that things - ideas and especially actions -  have consequences, specifically that actions considered sinful lead in one unhappy direction. One might say that we believe that human life - our moral, cultural life - is like a fragile ecosystem, delicately balanced, and that we think tampering with this system can have unintended consequences, even disastrous ones.

The final thing to be concluded from the words of Jesus is that the martyr suffers with Christ as a member of the mystical body of Christ. When we say that the martyr suffers with Christ, we mean that his suffering is not described fully by simply saying that he suffers for Christ. Many soldiers have died for their king. But the martyr's death differs from the soldier's death in that the martyr does not only suffer for Jesus, rather he is led into his own death by the death of Christ. The passion and death of Christ, because it is "the Son of man," the one who became man, who suffers, extends over the entire Church as his mystical body. Therefore the one who confesses Jesus in baptism is baptized into the death of Jesus, and therefore too the one who gives thanks to God in the Eucharist for having sent us his son Jesus participates in Jesus, in that he eats the broken body of the Lord and drinks the cup with the blood of the New Covenant. Because we are baptized into the death of the Lord and are fed with the blood of the Lord, it is unavoidable for everyone who belongs to the Church to have a share in the suffering of Christ....  baptism by water and baptism by blood come from the same Lord, prefigured in the symbol, as Cyril of Jerusalem has shown, of the blood and water that flowed from the side of Jesus.

Erik Peterson, Witness to the Truth

in the moment of his confession

A third conclusion to be drawn from the words of Jesus concerns the fact that the martyr demonstrates the public claim of the Church of Jesus Christ. As it belongs to the concept of the martyr to be brought for reckoning before the public organs of the state - in councils and synagogues, before governors and kings - to be subjected to a public judicial proceeding and the penalties of the public law, so too the public confession of the name of Jesus belongs to the concept of the martyrs. But insofar as the martyr before the court. in the public realm of the state, confessed him who will return publicly in the glory of the Father in order to judge this word, both Jews and Gentiles, in this very confession the martyr leaps beyond this world's concept of "public" and demonstrates in his words the public claim of another, a coming new world. He who confesses Jesus publicly on this earth is, in the moment of his confession, confessed publicly by Jesus in heaven. The significance of the act of confession on earth is matched by Jesus' solemn confession of the name of his confessor before God and the holy angels (cf. Luke 12:8). Because it is a confession of faith and not a confession of guilt, the words that the martyr speaks before the organs of the public authority are not human words but words that the Holy Spirit of the Father in heaven speaks in the confessors of Jesus Christ. Though the world sees in the confessor's words only a confession of guilt and not a religious profession, the Church knows that in the simple confession "I am a Christian," testified before the representatives of the state, God's Holy Spirit speaks, in that the public claim of the dominion of Jesus Christ is also testified to. The Church also knows that when the martyr steps forward as a witness for Christ the heavens open, as happened at the stoning of Stephen, and the Son of Man becomes visible, he who in heaven before the angels not only solemnly confesses his confessor, but also, when he stands at the right hand of God, makes known the future tribunal, before which the judges of this world... will receive their judgement.

- Erik Peterson, Witness to the Truth

So what are we to do?

All of our striving is concerned with acquiring the love commanded of us by Christ. When this spirit of Christ-like love enters within us our souls thirst for the salvation of all people. We are appalled that by no means everyone wishes for himself what we ask for all in our prayers. Worse, we often meet with refusal, even hostility. How can people be saved when there is such perversion? We live in an age, the events of which make the tragedy of our fall more and more evident. To take my own life: for over half a century I have prayed, sometimes weeping bitter tears, sometimes in wild despair, for the peace of the whole world and the salvation, if it be possible, of all. And what do you suppose? To this hour, in my old age, I see every evil increasing in its dynamics. The close of mankind’s earthly history is scientifically thinkable and may become technically realizable tomorrow. We are nonplussed by the utterly irrational character of the happenings of our time. So what are we to do? Despair and reject the everlasting Gospel? And if we decide on rejection what else in the whole world is there to satisfy us? Positively nothing could separate us from Him, however bitter the trials that we must suffer. He has opened our eyes to infinity, and now we cannot close them and prefer the blindness of new-born puppies. “Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world,” said the Lord. And now we stand before the Living Absolute - which is exactly what, and only what, we are seeking.

— Elder Sophrony, We Shall See Him as He Is

learning to trade easy pleasures for more complex and challenging ones

Adult life begins in a child's imagination, and we've relinquished that imagination to the marketplace.
- Dana Gioia, Commencement address at Stanford, June 17, 2007

It is a great honor to be asked to give the Commencement address at my
alma mater. Although I have two degrees from Stanford, I still feel a
bit like an interloper on this exquisitely beautiful campus. A person
never really escapes his or her childhood.

At heart I'm still a working-class kid—half Italian, half Mexican—from
L.A., or more precisely from Hawthorne, a city that most of this
audience knows only as the setting of Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction
and Jackie Brown—two films that capture the ineffable charm of my
hometown.

Today is Father's Day, so I hope you will indulge me for beginning on
a personal note. I am the first person in my family ever to attend
college, and I owe my education to my father, who sacrificed nearly
everything to give his four children the best education possible.

My dad had a fairly hard life. He never spoke English until he went to
school. He barely survived a plane crash in World War II. He worked
hard, but never had much success, except with his family.

When I was about 12, my dad told me that he hoped I would go to
Stanford, a place I had never heard of. For him, Stanford represented
every success he had missed yet wanted for his children. He would be
proud of me today—no matter how dull my speech.

On the other hand, I may be fortunate that my mother isn't here. It
isn't Mother's Day, so I can be honest. I loved her dearly, but she
could be a challenge. For example, when she learned I had been
nominated to be chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts, she
phoned and said, "Don't think I'm impressed."

I know that there was a bit of controversy when my name was announced
as the graduation speaker. A few students were especially concerned
that I lacked celebrity status. It seemed I wasn't famous enough. I
couldn't agree more. As I have often told my wife and children, "I'm
simply not famous enough."

And that—in a more general and less personal sense—is the subject I
want to address today, the fact that we live in a culture that barely
acknowledges and rarely celebrates the arts or artists.

There is an experiment I'd love to conduct. I'd like to survey a
cross-section of Americans and ask them how many active NBA players,
Major League Baseball players, and American Idol finalists they can
name.

Then I'd ask them how many living American poets, playwrights,
painters, sculptors, architects, classical musicians, conductors, and
composers they can name.

I'd even like to ask how many living American scientists or social
thinkers they can name.

Fifty years ago, I suspect that along with Mickey Mantle, Willie Mays,
and Sandy Koufax, most Americans could have named, at the very least,
Robert Frost, Carl Sandburg, Arthur Miller, Thornton Wilder, Georgia
O'Keeffe, Leonard Bernstein, Leontyne Price, and Frank Lloyd Wright.
Not to mention scientists and thinkers like Linus Pauling, Jonas Salk,
Rachel Carson, Margaret Mead, and especially Dr. Alfred Kinsey.

I don't think that Americans were smarter then, but American culture
was. Even the mass media placed a greater emphasis on presenting a
broad range of human achievement.

I grew up mostly among immigrants, many of whom never learned to speak
English. But at night watching TV variety programs like the Ed
Sullivan Show or the Perry Como Music Hall, I saw—along with
comedians, popular singers, and movie stars—classical musicians like
Jascha Heifetz and Arthur Rubinstein, opera singers like Robert
Merrill and Anna Moffo, and jazz greats like Duke Ellington and Louis
Armstrong captivate an audience of millions with their art.

The same was even true of literature. I first encountered Robert
Frost, John Steinbeck, Lillian Hellman, and James Baldwin on general
interest TV shows. All of these people were famous to the average
American—because the culture considered them important.

Today no working-class or immigrant kid would encounter that range of
arts and ideas in the popular culture. Almost everything in our
national culture, even the news, has been reduced to entertainment, or
altogether eliminated.

The loss of recognition for artists, thinkers, and scientists has
impoverished our culture in innumerable ways, but let me mention one.
When virtually all of a culture's celebrated figures are in sports or
entertainment, how few possible role models we offer the young.

There are so many other ways to lead a successful and meaningful life
that are not denominated by money or fame. Adult life begins in a
child's imagination, and we've relinquished that imagination to the
marketplace.

Of course, I'm not forgetting that politicians can also be famous, but
it is interesting how our political process grows more like the
entertainment industry each year. When a successful guest appearance
on the Colbert Report becomes more important than passing legislation,
democracy gets scary. No wonder Hollywood considers politics "show
business for ugly people."

Everything now is entertainment. And the purpose of this omnipresent
commercial entertainment is to sell us something. American culture has
mostly become one vast infomercial.

I have a recurring nightmare. I am in Rome visiting the Sistine
Chapel. I look up at Michelangelo's incomparable fresco of the
"Creation of Man." I see God stretching out his arm to touch the
reclining Adam's finger. And then I notice in the other hand Adam is
holding a Diet Pepsi.

When was the last time you have seen a featured guest on David
Letterman or Jay Leno who isn't trying to sell you something? A new
movie, a new TV show, a new book, or a new vote?

Don't get me wrong. I love entertainment, and I love the free market.
I have a Stanford MBA and spent 15 years in the food industry. I adore
my big-screen TV. The productivity and efficiency of the free market
is beyond dispute. It has created a society of unprecedented
prosperity.

But we must remember that the marketplace does only one thing—it puts
a price on everything.

The role of culture, however, must go beyond economics. It is not
focused on the price of things, but on their value. And, above all,
culture should tell us what is beyond price, including what does not
belong in the marketplace. A culture should also provide some cogent
view of the good life beyond mass accumulation. In this respect, our
culture is failing us.

There is only one social force in America potentially large and strong
enough to counterbalance this profit-driven commercialization of
cultural values, our educational system, especially public education.
Traditionally, education has been one thing that our nation has agreed
cannot be left entirely to the marketplace—but made mandatory and
freely available to everyone.

At 56, I am just old enough to remember a time when every public high
school in this country had a music program with choir and band,
usually a jazz band, too, sometimes even orchestra. And every high
school offered a drama program, sometimes with dance instruction. And
there were writing opportunities in the school paper and literary
magazine, as well as studio art training.

I am sorry to say that these programs are no longer widely available
to the new generation of Americans. This once visionary and democratic
system has been almost entirely dismantled by well-meaning but myopic
school boards, county commissioners, and state officials, with the
federal government largely indifferent to the issue. Art became an
expendable luxury, and 50 million students have paid the price. Today
a child's access to arts education is largely a function of his or her
parents' income.

In a time of social progress and economic prosperity, why have we
experienced this colossal cultural and political decline? There are
several reasons, but I must risk offending many friends and colleagues
by saying that surely artists and intellectuals are partly to blame.
Most American artists, intellectuals, and academics have lost their
ability to converse with the rest of society. We have become
wonderfully expert in talking to one another, but we have become
almost invisible and inaudible in the general culture.

This mutual estrangement has had enormous cultural, social, and
political consequences. America needs its artists and intellectuals,
and they need to reestablish their rightful place in the general
culture. If we could reopen the conversation between our best minds
and the broader public, the results would not only transform society
but also artistic and intellectual life.

There is no better place to start this rapprochement than in arts
education. How do we explain to the larger society the benefits of
this civic investment when they have been convinced that the purpose
of arts education is mostly to produce more artists—hardly a
compelling argument to either the average taxpayer or financially
strapped school board?

We need to create a new national consensus. The purpose of arts
education is not to produce more artists, though that is a byproduct.
The real purpose of arts education is to create complete human beings
capable of leading successful and productive lives in a free society.

This is not happening now in American schools. Even if you forget the
larger catastrophe that only 70 percent of American kids now graduate
from high school, what are we to make of a public education system
whose highest goal seems to be producing minimally competent
entry-level workers?

The situation is a cultural and educational disaster, but it also has
huge and alarming economic consequences. If the United States is to
compete effectively with the rest of the world in the new global
marketplace, it is not going to succeed through cheap labor or cheap
raw materials, nor even the free flow of capital or a streamlined
industrial base. To compete successfully, this country needs continued
creativity, ingenuity, and innovation.

It is hard to see those qualities thriving in a nation whose
educational system ranks at the bottom of the developed world and has
mostly eliminated the arts from the curriculum.

I have seen firsthand the enormous transformative power of the arts—in
the lives of individuals, in communities, and even society at large.

Marcus Aurelius believed that the course of wisdom consisted of
learning to trade easy pleasures for more complex and challenging
ones. I worry about a culture that bit by bit trades off the
challenging pleasures of art for the easy comforts of entertainment.
And that is exactly what is happening—not just in the media, but in
our schools and civic life.

Entertainment promises us a predictable pleasure—humor, thrills,
emotional titillation, or even the odd delight of being vicariously
terrified. It exploits and manipulates who we are rather than
challenges us with a vision of who we might become. A child who spends
a month mastering Halo or NBA Live on Xbox has not been awakened and
transformed the way that child would be spending the time rehearsing a
play or learning to draw.

If you don't believe me, you should read the statistical studies that
are now coming out about American civic participation. Our country is
dividing into two distinct behavioral groups. One group spends most of
its free time sitting at home as passive consumers of electronic
entertainment. Even family communication is breaking down as members
increasingly spend their time alone, staring at their individual
screens.

The other group also uses and enjoys the new technology, but these
individuals balance it with a broader range of activities. They go
out—to exercise, play sports, volunteer and do charity work at about
three times the level of the first group. By every measure they are
vastly more active and socially engaged than the first group.

What is the defining difference between passive and active citizens?
Curiously, it isn't income, geography, or even education. It depends
on whether or not they read for pleasure and participate in the arts.
These cultural activities seem to awaken a heightened sense of
individual awareness and social responsibility.

Why do these issues matter to you? This is the culture you are about
to enter. For the last few years you have had the privilege of being
at one of the world's greatest universities—not only studying, but
being a part of a community that takes arts and ideas seriously. Even
if you spent most of your free time watching Grey's Anatomy, playing
Guitar Hero, or Facebooking your friends, those important endeavors
were balanced by courses and conversations about literature, politics,
technology, and ideas.

Distinguished graduates, your support system is about to end. And you
now face the choice of whether you want to be a passive consumer or an
active citizen. Do you want to watch the world on a screen or live in
it so meaningfully that you change it?

That's no easy task, so don't forget what the arts provide.

Art is an irreplaceable way of understanding and expressing the
world—equal to but distinct from scientific and conceptual methods.
Art addresses us in the fullness of our being—simultaneously speaking
to our intellect, emotions, intuition, imagination, memory, and
physical senses. There are some truths about life that can be
expressed only as stories, or songs, or images.

Art delights, instructs, consoles. It educates our emotions. And it
remembers. As Robert Frost once said about poetry, "It is a way of
remembering that which it would impoverish us to forget." Art awakens,
enlarges, refines, and restores our humanity. You don't outgrow art.
The same work can mean something different at each stage of your life.
A good book changes as you change.

My own art is poetry, though my current daily life sometimes makes me
forget that. So let me end my remarks with a short poem appropriate to
the occasion.

[PRAISE TO THE RITUALS THAT CELEBRATE CHANGE]

Praise to the rituals that celebrate change,
old robes worn for new beginnings,
solemn protocol where the mutable soul,
surrounded by ancient experience, grows
young in the imagination's white dress.

Because it is not the rituals we honor
but our trust in what they signify, these rites
that honor us as witnesses—whether to watch
lovers swear loyalty in a careless world
or a newborn washed with water and oil.

So praise to innocence—impulsive and evergreen—
and let the old be touched by youth's
wayward astonishment at learning something new,
and dream of a future so fitting and so just
that our desire will bring it into being.

lambs before wolves

There are certain humane types who are inclined to attribute everything that happens in the world to mere misunderstanding. If it were up to them, it would have been a mere misunderstanding whereby Christ was crucified and the apostles were killed; when the hour of martyrdom again comes to the Church, these same people are inclined to attribute it all to a misunderstanding. On the contrary: the words of Jesus now show them not a human misunderstanding but a divine necessity makes martyrs. Jesus' saying, "Is it not necessary that the Son of Man suffer these things? " applies to all the Church's sufferings. As long as the Gospel is preached in this world - and that means to the end of time - the Church will also have martyrs. If the message of Jesus had merely been a philosophical doctrine about which one had to discuss for years on end, for centuries, there would never have been martyrs. And if individual human beings died for such a philosophy of Christ - they would still not be martyrs in the Christian sense of the word. To emphasize the point one more time: not human convictions and opinions, to put it even more pointedly not even human zeal for the faith makes martyrs, but only Christ himself, who issues the summons to martyrdom and thereby makes martyrdom a special grace: this Christ, who is preached by the Church in the Gospel, offered up in the sacrifice of the altar, and whose name all those who are baptized in the name of Jesus Christ are bound in their conscience to confess. We forget so often that in this world the Gospel is preached by lambs before wolves, and that according to Jesus' own words, the message of the Kingdom of God is delivered - now as then - to an adulterous and sinful generation (Mark 8:38). How can one actually expect that the wolves won't fall on the sheep? Perhaps it is rather to be expected that the disciples of Jesus would be ashamed of him and his words before this "adulterous and sinful generation."  But he who predicted Peter's betrayal reckoned with this possibility, too. Certainly, there may be times in which martyrs are fewer and times in which they are more; but to say that at certain times there are no martyrs at all would be to deny the Church's existence at that time.

- Erik Peterson, Witness to the Truth (1937)

And a little further down they passed the Shingle Beach, and Dr. Gallagher, who knew Canadian history, said to Dean Drone that it was strange to think that Champlain had landed there with his French explorers three hundred years ago; and Dean Drone, who didn't know Canadian history, said it was stranger still to think that the hand of the Almighty had piled up the hills and rocks long before that; and Dr. Gallagher said it was wonderful how the French had found their way through such a pathless wilderness; and Dean Drone said that it was wonderful also to think that the Almighty had placed even the smallest shrub in its appointed place. Dr. Gallagher said it filled him with admiration. Dean Drone said it filled him with awe. Dr. Gallagher said he'd been full of it ever since he was a boy; and Dean Drone said so had he.

Then a little further, as the Mariposa Belle steamed on down the lake, they passed the Old Indian Portage where the great grey rocks are; and Dr. Gallagher drew Dean Drone's attention to the place where the narrow canoe track wound up from the shore to the woods, and Dean Drone said he could see it perfectly well without the glasses.

Dr. Gallagher said that it was just here that a party of five hundred French had made their way with all their baggage and accoutrements across the rocks of the divide and down to the Great Bay. And Dean Drone said that it reminded him of Xenophon leading his ten thousand Greeks over the hill passes of Armenia down to the sea. Dr. Gallagher said the he had often wished he could have seen and spoken to Champlain, and Dean Drone said how much he regretted to have never known Xenophon.

- Stephen Leacock,  from 'The Marine Excursions of the Knights of Pythias', in Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town.