The Hemispherical Brain Activity of a Wayward Somnambulist
"The Hemispherical Brain Activity of a Wayward Somnambulist"
Two worlds, two brains viewing those worlds. From those brains spring stories. Narratives whirl as mayhem and mercy share space in the public consciousness. TV’s, computers, and cellphones deliver a constant volley of stories. Endless stories for the brain to decipher, as it scans the data, searching for personal relevance. There’s simply no time to really contemplate the evidence. So we peruse the data bank in our heads and we take sides in these stories. Judge, jury and would-be executioner. That’s us.
"Did he intend to kill her?"
"Did she have a lover?"
"Would that somehow balance the scales if she did?"
Moral relevance. Good guys and bad guys. These provide the framework for the thoughts in our head. And from those, we choose who is guilty and who is innocent. It’s all a story for our entertainment—and, if we don’t find it entertaining, we change channels. The TV station loses revenue. The staff are laid off, and everyone suffers. Better to sacrifice one person, that all may be entertained. All might be employed. Besides, we've got better than 50/50 odds on our side.
Of course, we don’t really think about it like that. We say work got in the way. Or, I had to play golf with my buddies. "Shit! I can’t be on, all the time!" And that’s right, we can’t be. They have their life. I’ve got mine. Empathy only goes so far. In that way, we are all expendable. For the common good, always for the common good.
Inside every man is a liberal, with an exalted empathy for the down trodden as an abstraction. It is a selfless vision, and a moral catastrophe. But, as a vision of how life should work, liberals often stretch their arms to the breaking point, in a powerful emotional embrace that reminds us we are all god’s children, with a small “g,” mind you, but god’s children, nonetheless.
Conservatives sit astride what’s left of their thrones, barking like old sergeants or aging fathers at wayward children;
“Stop that!” “Get a job! You lazy punk!”
No! Wait a minute...that’s not right! More like;
“Listen, there’s a real fiscal downside to over-investment in a slack market. Markets can only be free, when the growth of government is curtailed and taxes are lowered. Then we’ll have jobs, jobs, and more jobs!”
No wonder conservatism is an old man’s game, while liberalism relies on youthful energy, idealism and lots, I mean lots of naiveté. It’s the Teenage Poet vs the Stern Realist. Father vs Son. Mommy vs Son. Daddy vs Daughter.
These are the stories we tell about one another. About our tribe vs theirs. Politics is just the make-believe knife we use to stab ourselves in the back.
Whether any of it’s true, I can’t say.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Bust'a Crab
Two worlds, two brains viewing those worlds. From those brains spring stories. Narratives whirl as mayhem and mercy share space in the public consciousness. TV’s, computers, and cellphones deliver a constant volley of stories. Endless stories for the brain to decipher, as it scans the data, searching for personal relevance. There’s simply no time to really contemplate the evidence. So we peruse the data bank in our heads and we take sides in these stories. Judge, jury and would-be executioner. That’s us.
"Did he intend to kill her?"
"Did she have a lover?"
"Would that somehow balance the scales if she did?"
Moral relevance. Good guys and bad guys. These provide the framework for the thoughts in our head. And from those, we choose who is guilty and who is innocent. It’s all a story for our entertainment—and, if we don’t find it entertaining, we change channels. The TV station loses revenue. The staff are laid off, and everyone suffers. Better to sacrifice one person, that all may be entertained. All might be employed. Besides, we've got better than 50/50 odds on our side.
Of course, we don’t really think about it like that. We say work got in the way. Or, I had to play golf with my buddies. "Shit! I can’t be on, all the time!" And that’s right, we can’t be. They have their life. I’ve got mine. Empathy only goes so far. In that way, we are all expendable. For the common good, always for the common good.
Inside every man is a liberal, with an exalted empathy for the down trodden as an abstraction. It is a selfless vision, and a moral catastrophe. But, as a vision of how life should work, liberals often stretch their arms to the breaking point, in a powerful emotional embrace that reminds us we are all god’s children, with a small “g,” mind you, but god’s children, nonetheless.
Conservatives sit astride what’s left of their thrones, barking like old sergeants or aging fathers at wayward children;
“Stop that!” “Get a job! You lazy punk!”
No! Wait a minute...that’s not right! More like;
“Listen, there’s a real fiscal downside to over-investment in a slack market. Markets can only be free, when the growth of government is curtailed and taxes are lowered. Then we’ll have jobs, jobs, and more jobs!”
No wonder conservatism is an old man’s game, while liberalism relies on youthful energy, idealism and lots, I mean lots of naiveté. It’s the Teenage Poet vs the Stern Realist. Father vs Son. Mommy vs Son. Daddy vs Daughter.
These are the stories we tell about one another. About our tribe vs theirs. Politics is just the make-believe knife we use to stab ourselves in the back.
Whether any of it’s true, I can’t say.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Bust'a Crab