When virtue is mocked, when truth is denied, when character is demeaned and when self is promoted, there is no freedom to anticipate. Or to celebrate. Continue reading of life, liberty and literature
It’s hard to imagine a government can survive in an age of Twitter by trying to stamp out laughter and love. Continue reading Why I may celebrate Valentine’s Day
They’ve placed several large screens around the campus where I teach to promote university sponsored events and messages.
These screens also appear intended to reduce or even eliminate posters in certain buildings. Common areas are stripped clean, and academic halls have bulletin boards and tack strips, an invitation reinforced by policy to keep posters off of windows and walls.
I understand the impulse. But I’m not sure I agree with it.
Pop, as I knew him, was a gentle old man with a drinking problem. He returned from the Pacific after World War II, where he had served as a SeaBee (the Construction Brigade’s, or CB’s). A carpenter by trade, he had helped build bridges on islands I can not name in military actions he never told me about.
Pop didn’t talk about the war. But his loss was great, nonetheless. It was not the loss of life or limb, but of joy. Like many men in his time, he returned to a wife he no longer knew and who no longer needed him in the same way. Divorce and drinking drove them both to despair.
After that each had several partners—marriages, as my parents put it euphemistically. And though late in life they both recovered some of their dignity, the war cost them a great deal. It costs us all a great deal.