The Virus Infecting Political Discourse

In the aftermath of the national elections, rancor continues to rise in a crescendo of ill-will.  It’s happening on a daily basis, hour-by-hour. The civility and mutual courtesy which once existed between and within the Congressional and Executive branches seem to have melted away in the last three decades.

Lately, I’ve recused myself from publicly sharing my views and commentaries on this blog, refusing to wade into the muck.  Yet the Public Square will not go away, and there are no rocks to hide under.

But don’t expect my blog to justify one side of the political argument or the other during your reading of this essay.  Very few people are listening these days except to the sound of their own voices, insisting that they are correct and, therefore, that all others are wrong.  I hope you are different.

The Shamelessness of Donald Trump

I was appalled when I came across the following Internet report in which Donald Trump is attributed to have said of John McCain that “He is not a war hero,”  followed by “he is a war hero because he was captured.” 

 

Trump reinforced his position as follows:  "I like people that weren't captured, OK? I hate to tell you. He is a war hero because he was captured. OK, you can have -- I believe perhaps he is a war hero."

Those comments were made in the mid-west at the Iowa Family Leadership Summit in Ames, Iowa.  Later today, after this monumental gaffe, Trump tried to walk back those comments.

What was this man thinking?  Or, more precisely, not thinking?  His military record is non-existent.  He was given four student deferments and a medical deferment in the 1960’s when the Vietnam War was raging.

So, who is this man Trump to take on the military record of John McCain, a 1958 graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy and a Naval Aviator:  Both his dad and granddad were four-star admirals in the U.S. Navy.

Is it his Wealth, his Religion, or Both?

The Mormon church in Wolfeboro, NH,

 which Mitt Romney attended on Sunday,

August 19, 2012.

CENTER HARBOR, NH – Try as I might, I’ve simply not been able to understand the latent but palpable dislike of Mitt Romney for who he is and for what he stands for.

 
First: His Wealth.  The man is rich.  By now, that has been well established:  Romney is worth upwards of $250 million.  He owns a townhouse in prestigious Belmont, Massachusetts, in a state where he was once its governor.  He also enjoys a waterfront home on Lake Winnipesaukee in the resort town of Wolfeboro, New Hampshire, on 12 acres of secluded land worth $10 million.  No small change.
 
Therefore, if anyone is inclined to strongly dislike another person for his wealth, there is plenty of material to work on here.

Wilderness & Politics

When compared, few things appear to be as incongruent to one another as the quiet of the north woods of New Hampshire and the strident sound of politics. 

A required stop for politicians at the nation's first primary.

When one is away from the major population centers of the northeast, it is refreshing to see how quickly one can become inoculated from the barrage of misinformation and the mindless chatter that passes for analysis as it streams from the mouths of TV’s talking heads.

Yet here in New Hampshire, politics is big business, especially every four years, when presidential hopefuls who otherwise would never entertain a second thought about visiting this beautiful part of the country converge upon its first-in-the-nation primaries, with all of the enthusiasm of suitors vying for the same mate. 

Therein lies the paradox. 

The Last Butterfly of Summer

With all of the nonsense going on in Washington D.C. and New Jersey politics these days, I wasn’t mentally up to filling this space with more of the same – will save commentary on that for some other day.

Instead, I thought I’d share with you one of dozens of snapshots that I was lucky enough to have taken in mid-August of this year.

When we came back from our New Hampshire lakeside vacation, we encountered the damage inflicted on our neighborhood in Bridgewater after it was struck by a microburst of wind that brought down literally tons of trees. The big oak in our front yard was lucky to have survived, but it needed some major trimming to bring it back from the brink.

When the tree experts arrived and began their work, I decided to take my digital camera out to the front yard to record the event. As an unexpected bonus, I noticed the butterflies that were being attracted to our garden by the wayside.

That’s when I changed priorities and concentrated my camera on capturing images of these delightfully friendly creatures of the summer. If you’re careful, quiet, and move slowly, you can get your camera very close to a butterfly – easily two feet, even closer.

One of the startlingly revealing facts about nature is its insistence on reminding us that we are merely a part of it, despite the human tendency to think that we are its ultimate product. This is not to degrade the exponential progression of mankind or the value of the human soul, just a cautionary signal that our future is short and our task, heavy.

Where The Elements Dominate

Here in the central and northern reaches of New Hampshire, the weather rules and regulates the lives and fortunes of its residents – this is tourist country.

Businesses are dependent upon the vagaries of nature, whether it be balmy sunshine in the summer to warm the waters of deep spring-fed lakes; or, whether it be a consistent cold during winter to bring and to build the dense snowpack that beckons skiers north on I-93.

It’s good to get away, however briefly, from the highly populated eastern seaboard, and from the illusion which it tends to create that man is in complete control of his destiny. Less people, more space, and more time outdoors away from the large population centers of the BosWash corridor bring out a respect for the impact of nature.

It would be naïve and foolish to deny the significant progress which civilization has built up over the centuries; but, it would be just as foolish to deny how utterly irrational civilization has been in the destruction which it has brought upon itself through sloth, uncaring, and warfare.

We have built great economic systems and erected magnificent building and construction projects. But the mountains and valleys built by nature will survive long after the street canyons of cities like Manhattan and elsewhere in the world have disappeared.

Perhaps with a little common sense, less greed, and a touch of wisdom, our leaders could improve our economic and social systems and make them last a little longer.

(Photo by Dick Bergeron, Franconia Notch, N.H., August 4, 2009)

They Played, We Pay

Ben Bernanke, Chairman of the Federal Reserve, is holding the discount rate to a below-market 2% and, together with Henry Paulson, Secretary of the Treasury, has pulled out of the fire the collective butts of some prominent investment firms; as well as those of national and international banks, most of which speculated heavily in high risk, hybridized, mortgage-backed financial instruments.

Nonetheless, housing markets are still in a funk, and artificially low interest rates perpetuate poor lending practices, while possibly encouraging inflation. On top of this, the U.S. Congress and the Administration seek to bail out borrowers whose credit worthiness is sub-par.

Thirty-five years ago, the late, iconoclastic Harvard economist John Kenneth Galbraith wrote that, “Unless lower interest rates and easier borrowing are accompanied by good prospects for selling goods or houses, nothing much may happen.”

Well, nothing much is happening, except that the housing market hasn’t hit bottom yet, GDP growth is hovering barely above recession levels, and the U.S. taxpayer is picking up the tab for corporate mismanagement, poor legislation, anemic regulation, a deflated dollar, dead-beat loans, and an increase in core inflation.

If one wishes to empty a cesspool, one has to drain its contents, nor merely stir them about.

After the Storm

Friday, 24 hours after torrential rains battered the Lakes Region of New Hampshire, morning light dawned bright and clear, and the sun burned off any remnants of mist hanging over the Ossipee Mountain ridge, just across the water. By mid-morning, the rainy dreariness which had covered the lake the day before transformed itself into brilliantly blue sky, with sharp green forest lining the opposite shore; and the lake glistened with calm, welcoming water – barely a ripple breaking the surface.

Time for a walk! Out of the driveway and onto Eagle Shore Road, Priscille and I headed east to Black Cat Island, a small, densely-treed granitic point just off Moultonborough Neck. The access to Black Cat is by way of a steeply arched bridge which permits boats to transit under. It’s a good spot to linger briefly and to enjoy the water and wood vistas.

In such a pristine environment, a person’s mind and thoughts don’t wander much to events in the outside world. Somehow, the race for the presidency gets put into its proper perspective.

The walk around the circumference of the island is scenic, with breaks in the trees where the beauty of the lake beckons a walker to linger. Vacationers and Lake People wave as they drive by, off to daily errands. This is not a place for a frenzied, what-are-we-going-to-do-next vacation. People are friendly and they express it.

Our refreshing walk was somewhere under 3 miles up and down the hillocks of the road. About 60 minutes later, after a second scenic stop on the arched bridge over to Black Cat Island, we returned to our place refreshed for meeting the rest of the day.