AnalPhilosopher

As you know, I've been without a high-speed Internet connection since Wednesday night. In my discussions with EarthLink technicians, I've learned that something is awry in the "line," i.e., the telephone line into my house. I'm sure it was caused by the thunderstorms we had Wednesday night and Thursday morning. As if this weren't bad enough, I'm unable to get a dial-up connection through my Dell computer. The Dell works fine; I just can't get online with it. So I had to fire up the old Compaq to use the dial-up connection. It's frustratingly slow. Sometimes I could scream. But at least I've been able to post my journal entries of twenty years ago.

I would not have thought that things could get worse, but this evening they did. When I fired up the Compaq, it went into safe mode. What the? Maybe the tinkering with the DSL modem messed it up; but it worked fine last night when I shut it off. I tried restoring the operating system (using System Restore), but none of the three restore points I created works. Damn! So now I have to work in safe mode, which means all the screen sizes and colors are screwed up. Fortunately, I'm able to get online, so perhaps I shouldn't complain too much. I'm able to check my e-mail, post my journal entries, and do other odds and ends.

I've decided that if my DSL modem isn't up and running by Monday afternoon, I'm leaving EarthLink. I can't impress upon them the urgency of my situation. I pay good money for high-speed Internet access and expect to have it continuously—especially when I've done nothing to lose it. I have cable television, so I can probably get high-speed Internet access through Charter. I wish I could tell EarthLink this. If they knew that they were about to lose a customer, they'd do something (I assume). My telling this to a technician doesn't accomplish anything. Technicians don't care whether I subscribe to EarthLink. If anything, they'd like me to go away.

If anyone has suggestions, I'd appreciate hearing them.

7-31-84 2502.3 [250.2 miles]. It's Tuesday morning. I've just set out from Lakeview State Park (overlooking Lake Mary), where I spent the night, and it's just a beautiful morning. There's not a cloud in the sky, the sun is bright and shining on my back, and there's a mist in front of me—a fog, if you will—covering part of Lake Mary. I'm presently coasting downhill, headed toward Flagstaff, and nothing could be better. I feel good, I'm raring to go, today's riding should be a breeze, and my destination today is Tuba City, considerably north of Flagstaff.

The riding late last night was miserable. As I approached Mormon Lake, raindrops started to fall, and it was also getting dark. [By] listening to the radio I knew that there was one hour of daylight left, so I was not only racing against the sun, but also the rain and my own fatigue. I was so tired at one point—feeling so weak—that I had to stop and gulp some vegetable crackers by the side of the road. Otherwise, I'm not sure [that] I would have made it. But the crackers must have given me a burst of energy, because I got up, covered my gear on the bike, and plugged on, past Mormon Lake and finally to the vicinity of Lake Mary, where I knew [that] there was a state park. I was helped along the way by a song from Peter Frampton on the radio, called "Baby I Love Your Way." I remember listening to that song in 1976 when it first came out, and even playing my ["Frampton Comes Alive"] tape on a date with Vicki Stout. It sure raised my spirits to hear [the song again as I pedalled] in the driving rain.

Right now I'm riding through a dense fog. I can't see more than fifty yards in front of me. The lake, which is to my left, is invisible, but I can see well enough to ride on, of course. Getting back to Lakeview State Park, I was quite disappointed at the facilities. There was no shower, no sink, no washroom—only an old-fashioned outhouse, which smelled when I opened the door. In Michigan, nearly every state park had full shower and washroom facilities, and the parks were much more well-marked. That is, there were signs indicating how far [it was] to the [various] park[s] and showing exactly where they were located. Here in Arizona, I've been greatly disappointed in the road signs. I see one [particular] sign, "Highway Littering Unlawful," a lot, but other than that, I don't get much information [from] alongside the road. [S]ince it was growing dark, I hurriedly pitched my tent and put my belongings inside, after which I ate two more sandwiches and some crackers, washed my face with cold water, and jumped into the sleeping bag for a good night's sleep [or so I hoped].

The temperature in Flagstaff at 6:10 P.M. last night was sixty-one degrees, and it was expected to get into the fifties overnight. Right now, as I pedal along, the wind is quite chilly, even though the sun is out behind me. Fog is still covering the trees to my far left, and there's a crispness in the air. But then, what I should I expect? Lakeview State Park was at seven thousand feet [in altitude]—well more than a mile above sea level—and Flagstaff itself is only a few feet lower than that.

I didn't sleep too badly last night. At least it didn't rain, and the ground wasn't too [hard]—although my hips got sore from sleeping sideways, [necessitating that I] move around quite a bit in the bag. Also, the bottom of the sleeping bag had gotten wet during my ride, and since my socks were also wet, and I had no dry ones, I ended up sleeping all night with cold, damp feet. I sure hope that I don't catch [a] cold or pneumonia from that. Finally, just before I went to sleep, I heard [a] neighbor[ing camper] exclaim that there was a skunk in the vicinity. One of [the campers] walked near my tent with a flashlight, [so] I asked him from within what it was. He confirmed that it was a skunk. Now, I ha[d] a small loaf of bread and some crackers in my tent, . . . so I thought that the skunk might be trying to find those items. Lo and behold, in the middle of the night, I awoke to [the sound of] some small animal scratching at my tent. Not wanting to trigger a blast from the skunk's olfactory generator [if indeed it was a skunk], I simply yelled, "Shoo, git, shoo!" and I heard the animal scamper away. The lesson [that] I learned from this is that when I get into "bear country," I don't want to have any food in or around my tent [at night]. The last thing [that] I need is to have a bear scavenging for food in the middle of the night while I'm sleeping. I've heard horror stories about campers being mauled [by bears], and I don't want to become another statistic.

This morning I awoke approximately one hour after sunrise, or 6:30 [A.M.], and quickly began packing up my things, taking my vitamins, brushing my teeth, etcetera. I am now quite proficient at packing my gear and taking down the tent. I would estimate that it takes about ten minutes to take the tent down, fold it up, and string it onto the bike with the bungy strap. Everything seems to be in fine order, except my [od]ometer, which has been making a loud, strange noise for the [p]ast half-day or so. I, personally, feel good. I have no aches and pains to speak of, and I feel none the worse for having had only one shower in the past three and a half days.

One other point. The [camping last night] was free. . . . I went up to the "host's" trailer and asked if there was a fee for bikers as there was for cars. [The host] said, "You're on a ten-speed?!["] and I said, "Yes," and he said, "No; go ahead." [That means that] I now have five additional dollars for my trip. [All told, I have] $410 for twenty-seven more days. Here are my objectives once I get into Flagstaff: first, eat a good breakfast; second, stop at a laundromat [to] wash and dry my clothes; third, buy food and pick up iced water for the day's trip; and fourth, send two postcards. Each day on the trip I'll try to mail two postcards. That will give me approximately sixty for the entire trip—more than enough to keep family and friends abreast of my journey.

2531.3 [279.2 miles]. I'm currently riding northward out of Flagstaff on Highway 89, and I saw a sign about a mile back which stated that the elevation at that point was seven thousand feet. I'm slightly above that [elevation] right now. I'm quite sure that that's the highest elevation [that] I've been at on this trip, and yet I feel reasonably strong and fit. The thin air hasn't made me notic[e]ably sluggish, although it's hard to tell without comparing it to something else. As I come down somewhat in elevation, I'll see if the riding becomes a little easier.

Well, I've now put thirty miles under my belt today. The sun is almost directly overhead, and I suspect that it's just past noon. Here's what happened since last I spoke. I pulled alongside the road going into Flagstaff to check out my odometer and take a salt tablet, and as I was sitting on the side of the road, a biker approached me from the direction of Flagstaff. He was decked out in the usual riding gear, and he had a nice bike, [so] we struck up a conversation about biking and other subjects. It turns out that this fellow lives in Flagstaff and that he's been biking for some thirteen years. He told me that one summer a few years back, he had ridden his ten-speed [bike] from Arizona to Philadelphia, and when he arrived at his parents' house, he vowed that he would never try such a foolish thing again. But as any biker can tell you, . . . long-distance riding becomes habit-forming, and the very next summer he not only went all the way across country, . . . he came back on his bike. That should tell you a little bit about not only the heartache of biking, but the fact that you get a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction when it's over. I certainly felt good after completing my ten-day trip around Michigan in 1982, even though along the way there were times when I was dejected, lonely, and sore.

Finally, after discussing my plans and the bike and gear that I have, the biker suggested that he accompany me into Flagstaff. Finding his company agreeable, I accepted, and on we pedalled into town. I had asked him about the Northern Arizona University campus, and so the first place he led me was through a long drive pas[t] some of the campus buildings. When we got to the domed football stadium [the Walkup Skydome], I stopped to take a picture [of] it [with] the San Francisco Mountains in the background. The biker told me that the San Francisco Mountains [contain] the highest point in Arizona, and from the looks of them, he's right. Before we went our separate ways, the biker made a suggestion and described [end of "notebook #1 (3-8-84 to 7-31-84)"—consisting of 150 single-spaced, computer-printed sheets] to me the route through Utah on Highway 89. [He was great company—the sort of person who would make a fine companion on a long bike trip.]

I just passed a sign which read, "Elevation, 7282 Feet." It's hard to believe [that] I climbed 282 feet in the past couple of miles. Maybe I did. At any rate, there's a considerable drop in front of me. It should be good riding. Finishing up the story about the biker, [his] suggestion was that instead of going northward into [the town of] Page, I [should] veer off to the left and go across the Colorado River and through part of the Grand Canyon area. I frankly hadn't considered that alternative, but the more I think about it, the better it sounds. He said that the view is much more scenic [along that route] and that the [amount of] climbing is about the same—short climbs in certain places. As for his de[s]cription of the route, he said that Highway 89 through Utah is a joy. The winds are from the south, which should assist me, and the road is basically flat. And finally, the views, he said, are spectacular. So I was encouraged to hear about the trip through Utah.

Amazing! I've been coasting for about three miles now, and I still have a huge drop in front of me. At the moment I've slowed down a bit, but the [de]cline will steepen shortly. As I was saying, the biker and I parted in downtown Flagstaff, but before we did so, he gave me directions as to how to get out of town and where to find a laundromat and a McDonald's [restaurant]. They were both on the way, so I didn't have to go on any detours. The first stop, as with the last two days, was to eat a big breakfast at McDonald's. You might think that I'd be tired of the same meal three days in a row, but it's actually a good breakfast. I had, again, scrambled eggs, pancakes with syrup, hash brown potatoes, an English muffin with jelly, a raspberry danish, and a large cup of coffee. I find that these large breakfasts get me going and stand me in good stead for most of the day. Afterward, I found a small laundromat and washed all of my dirty clothes except the shorts and underwear that I was wearing. The bike feels lighter now that I've gotten the dirty, sweaty clothes out of the rear pannier. While I was at the laundromat, I took the time to write two more postcards—to Mom and to Kutinsky, Davey & Solomon—and . . . mailed them before I left.

2536.3 [284.2 miles]. I'm still coasting down the hill north of Flagstaff on Highway 89. There was a bike path [alongside the road] up until now, but it looks like I'm going to be on the road [proper] for a few miles, at least. As I came out of Flagstaff, the skies began clouding up quickly, and before I knew it raindrops began to fall. I pulled off to the side of the road, covered the bike, and spent fifteen to twenty minutes reading the editorial pages of the Arizona Republic. But quickly the storm clouds blew over to the west, and now the sky appears to be fairly clear in front of me, and that's really all I care about. The storms can be brewing and hashing about on either side of me or behind me; all I care about is what's in front of me.

Just that quickly, I've gone back into a somewhat desert country. All around me on the side are these small, treelike bushes, and off in the distance on both right and left are round mountains, or hills. My plan for the day is to make it to Tuba City, and, if not that far, then in the near vicinity [of Tuba City]. Tomorrow I plan to get through the Grand Canyon and possibly into Utah (or very near thereto).

I neglected to mention that yesterday, when I was near Mormon Lake, I saw an unusual "double rainbow." I was lucky enough to get two pictures of it, but I honestly don't think [that] I've ever seen such a thing. One rainbow was fairly distinct and clear, [while] the other was concentric with it but a bit larger. I noticed that it was also a bit fainter. I don't know much about the physics of rainbows, but [they] sure [were] beautiful. By the looks of things, I'm going to have some fantastic photographs when I arrive back in Tucson.

Yesterday's mileage, incidentally, was 76.8, which means that I have covered 248.8 miles in three days. That puts me over my schedule of eighty miles per day, and I must say that with the conditions being as harsh as they've been, I should pick up even more ground in the next few days. As I get stronger, and come down in altitude, I hope to get ninety to a hundred miles on some days. The odometer reading when I left Lakeview State Park this morning was 2500.9 [248.8 miles]. [Right now,] as I look behind me, I see a long, steep incline leading into Flagstaff. I'm sure that I'll be taking this same route on the way back, but I'll try to flush it from my mind for the next few weeks and worry about it on my return. I'm fairly sure, however, that I'll be taking a different route from Flagstaff to Tucson, possibly through the Phoenix vicinity.

About a week before I left on the trip, I read a newspaper article which said that the stretch of highway [that] I'm currently on, north of Flagstaff, is one of the most dangerous in the state. It has an extremely high rate of accidents. I frankly don't know why. It looks to me like a standard-sized road; [it has] two lanes; and there's even about a foot and a half [of] bike space on the side. It's not enough for me to stay within, or on, but in a pinch I could move over and avoid an accident.

My back is now fairly well burnt. I can feel the sun's rays stinging off it every now and then, and I can see (by looking in my [small] rearview mirror) that it's blistered quite badly. But I intended to ride shirtless as much as possible on the trip, in hopes that my back would turn dark brown and eventually just "ward off" the sun's rays. I realize that I run a risk of skin cancer by doing this, but, as with other of life's risks, the magnitude of the harm times the probability [of its occurring] is exceedingly small, and so I (for all intents and purposes) ignore that risk.

2540.0 [287.9 miles]. Believe it or not, it feels good to be out in open country again. Roderick Nash, in his book Wilderness and the American Mind, discusses the roots of the [prevalent human] distaste for wilderness, and he finds it in, of all places, biology and sociobiology. According to Nash, there was a period [of] time when the great forests [of the earth] were destroyed by a glacier, or by an ice age, or something, and at that point the humans who remained alive were thrust out into the open. And because good eyesight had survival value in an open environment, humans developed acute eyesight and thrived in that sort of environment. Thus, even today, Nash writes, humans prefer open spaces to dense, dark forests. Last evening, when I was riding through the forest, I felt a similar sense of confinement and loneliness. But out in the open, where I can see off in every direction, I feel safer—perhaps more in control of the situation. I really don't know how to describe it. But then again, maybe I'm just enjoying the change. I'll probably tire of the open spaces within a day or so and be ready to ride through some pine-covered mountains again.

As I climb farther and farther down the mountainside, I notice [that] there's a considerable storm off to my left, over the mountains. I see lightning flashing over one particular mountain, and the sky is an ominous, dark black. But, as I say, it's fairly clear in front of me, and that's all I care about. I'm currently coasting down a hill at approximately twenty-seven miles per hour. The riding here is fantastic, and I'm picking up mileage quickly.

Kim du Toit is way too nice to me in this post. Thanks, Kim.

7-30-84 Monday. 2435.2 [183.1 miles]. It's Monday morning, and right now I'm sitting about halfway up a mountain. I spent the night in a motel in Payson, and now I'm on my way toward [the towns of] Pine and Strawberry. Ultimately, today, I want to get near Flagstaff and camp out in a state park. Let me recap[itulate] the events of yesterday.

At last I spoke, I was approaching the Roosevelt Dam along[s]ide Lake Roosevelt—or Roosevelt Lake[.] The dam was just spectacular. I rode my bike across it, and at the end I stopped to take a couple of pictures. On one side of the dam was Roosevelt Lake, and on the other was a stream [actually Apache Lake], hundreds of feet below me. So I now see how Roosevelt Lake is maintained at its height. The road going northward from Roosevelt Dam was gravel, and I travelled on that gravel for about ten or twelve miles. It was not much fun. Since the lake itself wound its way into several coves, I found myself riding around and down into each cove and then back up the mountain along the roadway. It was a constant up-and-down battle. All the while, the clouds were massing overhead, and finally sprinkles began to come down. I continued on my way through the rain, determined to get to Payson before nightfall. Things were not looking good.

When I finally got past Roosevelt Lake, the rain began coming down a little harder. It wasn't hard enough to stop me from riding entirely, but it was enough that it would have soaked my gear if I hadn't done something. So I put my raincoat over the front of the bike (and held onto it as I rode), and I stretched my plastic bike cover over the sleeping bag and rear panniers so [that] they wouldn't get wet. In that condition I must have ridden about twenty miles. Finally, the rain stopped and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. But [the sun] was only about an hour into the sky, and from looking at the map I realized that I wouldn't make it into Payson that night. Since there were no campgrounds on the way, and since I badly needed a shower, I decided to put my thumb out [to hitchhike].

Lo and behold, as I was climbing the steepest hill, [the driver of] a flatbed truck went by, saw my thumb in the air, and screeched to a halt. I ran up to the truck with my bike, asked the driver if he was going as far as Payson, and [was pleased when] he said, "Yes." And so I threw my bike in[to] the back [of the truck] and jumped in[to] the back with it. On we went into Payson. I can't believe how steep the hills were between where I was picked up and Payson itself. I don't see how I could have made it that night, and it probably would have taken me a good part of today just to get into Payson. All told, I must have ridden about twenty to twenty-two miles with the three youngsters who picked me up.

The driver and his two buddies were very nice kids. On the way to Payson they asked me if they could drive down a side road to pick up some friends[.] I said, "Sure! I'm in no hurry." When we got there, we had a few minutes to chat, and I noticed that one of them had on a "Black Sabbath" tee shirt. Since Black Sabbath is my favorite [musical] group, I struck up a conversation [with the three youths] and we ended up talking about rock and roll [music] for ten to fifteen minutes. When we finally arrived in Payson, it was just about dark. I popped my bike off the back of the truck and gave the driver my spare set of headphones. I have purchased [a pair of] Sony headphones [before I left on the trip], which work on my AM-FM radio, so I really didn't need the extra pair—and I wanted to give the driver something, whether he needed it or not. When I handed [the headphones] to him, he said, "Oh, you don't have to give me anything." I said, "I know I don't; but I want to." He took them and we said our goodbyes, and off I [went] on the bike to find a motel.

2435.8 [183.7 miles]. I'm still pushing my bike up this mountain. It's incredibly grueling. Sweat pours off my face and body, and I have to stop about every hundred to two hundred yards to catch my breath. However, it looks like I'm about to reach the crest of this particular hill. The sky, meanwhile, is completely clouded over. I'm not sure if that means "rain" or what. Usually, by this time in the morning, the sun burns the clouds away and it proceeds to get hot and dry. But that hasn't happened yet today. I also noticed that the riding is harder today, even downhill. I'm not sure what to make of it. My belongings aren't any wetter or heavier; I should be stronger than [I was during] the first two days [that] I rode; and the bike seems to be in as good a shape as it was in the first two days. The only thing [that] I can think of is that the altitude is now much higher. Perhaps it drains my energy quicker than lower altitudes, and . . . manifests itself in more difficult riding. Whatever the case, I'm determined to push on and make it to [a] campground south of Flagstaff before nightfall. I just hope that the weather cooperates.

Getting back to yesterday's events, when I was let off the flatbed truck by the three young fellows, I noticed [that there was] a motel right across the street. So I went there, knocked on the door, asked how much a room was for a night, was told "twenty-two dollars," and . . . decided to take it. [Twenty-two dollars] was more than I had planned to spend, per day, but I spent very little [money during] the first day [of riding] and, as I say, I needed a shower quite badly. So I gave him the money and went to the room. The first thing that I did [when I got into the room] was take a long, hot shower. It sure felt good to be clean again. Then I put on a flannel shirt and my long, brown corduroy pants and walked across the street to Burger King, where I had a nice dinner [chicken sandwich, french fries, and cola]. I must have appeared quite a sight with my hair tussled, four days' growth of beard on my face, and a tired look about me. Finally, I went back to the motel room, wrote a postcard to Mom, looked at my maps, watched part of the Olympic events for twenty minutes or so, and then went to sleep. All told, I rode eighty and a half miles on the second day of the trip. This morning (Monday), when I woke up, the odometer read 2424.1 [172.0 miles], which means that I'm approximately twelve miles [ahead of] schedule [eighty miles per day]. The only bad news is that I have "cheated" by accepting a ride. I hope to do that no more than a handful of times on this trip. One thing is clear: I won't be coming back to Tucson via Payson and Globe. There are just too many mountains to negotiate.

This morning I awoke to rays of light coming in the window. I jumped up, prepared my things, shaved, washed my face, packed my bike, and once again set off [down] the road. Like yesterday, I stopped at McDonald's for a hearty breakfast, and then [stopped] at a Circle K [store] for ice cubes and water. The road leading out of Payson was predominantly downhill. I enjoyed the ride. Now, [however,] I seem to be paying for it.

The foliage here is quite different than it was in southern Arizona. Although there are still barren places on the hillsides, there are pine and other northern trees scattered throughout the other bushes. In every direction there are green, rolling hills and mountains. The ground is reddish, and every so often as I ride I hear birds chirping in the trees. Off I go to Pine and Strawberry. I'm going to listen to a tape while I walk and ride.

2440.6 [188.5 miles]. I finally made it to the top of that hill, and then coasted down for a couple of miles into this delightful little town called "Pine." The name couldn't be more apt. All around the town, on the hills and in the gullies, are pine trees and other foliage. In fact, I got the feeling that it was a lumbering town, from the looks of it. The first thing that I did was to pull into a service station to fill my airs with tire [sic!], the first time that I've done that on the trip. And then I stopped at a small laundromat to wash clothes. But there was no detergent available inside, so I repacked my dirty clothing and continued on my way. I spoke for a few minutes at the laundromat with a woman who was also washing clothes, and we got to talking about my bike trip, which is usually the subject of conversation when I meet someone. She told me that she had gone on her honeymoon to Yellowstone thirty-six years ago. She then asked if I were keeping in touch with my family, and I said, "Yes"—that I had sent a postcard to my mother th[at very] morning. She must have known what my Mom is going through, because she said, "You know how mothers worry; you should keep in touch with her." And I agreed.

I'm now sitting beside the road on another steep incline. Cars and trucks are passing me quite regularly, and there's no longer a bike path on the side of the road, so I have to keep a good lookout in my rearview mirror as I push the bike. The sun, believe it or not, still hasn't come out from behind the clouds. I don't sense that there is any rain imminent, but it's an awfully strange day here in the mountains. I, personally, feel fine. I've been listening to a pre-recorded tape for a half hour or so, and I must say that when I hear a particular song that I like, I'm just euphoric. There I'll be, sweat pouring down my face and body, pushing a heavy bike up a steep side of a mountain, and I'll be singing aloud and stepping in tune with the beat. [The people in passing vehicles must think me strange.] I particularly enjoyed hearing "Flyer," by [the group] Saga, and "Murder by Numbers," by the Police. Well, here goes. [The] next town will be Strawberry, and then I'll be pressing onward to Flagstaff.

2444.3 [192.2 miles]. I'm sitting under some sort of pine tree very near to the top of this mountain, north of Strawberry. It's one of the highest mountains [that] I've climbed thus far—if not the highest. But I'm in good spirits. I sense that the peak is near, and I just know that the downslope is going to be long and steep. So I'm going to get my money's worth out of this hill yet. The other encouraging news is that I can't be much lower in elevation than the city of Flagstaff. When I left Payson, I knew that I had to climb 2000 feet to get to Flagstaff. I've come down a bit since Payson, but I'm sure [that] I'm much higher than that [now]. I may be more than halfway to Flagstaff from Payson by now. The sun has finally come out, and the clouds have scattered about, so it's turned into a beautiful day. At this high elevation, the sun doesn't beat down near[ly] as hard—or . . . doesn't seem to—and there's a light breeze up here, so I'm able to keep cool even though the sun is out. Of course, I [also keep cool by] drink[ing] huge quantities of water (I have since I left). Each day, I would guess, I drink about a gallon or more of fluid, most of that water. Occasionally I'll stop and buy two cans of iced tea, and last night I drank a quart of orange juice before I went to sleep.

The terrain is getting exciting now. I was bored stiff in southern Arizona, with the deserts and the scrub cacti all around, but now I'm in high country, and there are pine trees all around me with pine cones on the ground, rock outcroppings every which way, and steep, winding mountain curves. I can't wait to camp tonight and for the rest of the trip underneath the pine trees on a soft bed of needles in some state park. Healthwise, I feel great. I take vitamins each day, and I'm continually popping salt tablets to keep my salt level up. Since perspiration involves the loss of body salt, one has to replace it on a regular basis.

The views from this mountain are spectacular. I stopped a while back to take a picture of the road, and it was hard to believe that I had walked the bike up that far. I feel stronger now than when I left, and I'm sure that by the time I reach the real high mountains, in Utah and Wyoming, I'll be ready for them. But for now, I'm going to press on. I've gotten a little over twenty miles under my belt today, and I've got several more [to cover] before nightfall. So here goes: onward up the mountain, listening to my tape.

2453.1 [201.0 miles]. I've reached the top of the mountain, north of Strawberry, and I'm now on my way down, heading toward the road leading to Flagstaff. [End of tape one, side one.] The trip up was a lot of hard work, and when I did get to the top, there wasn't a simple peak, such that I started down immediately, but [rather,] a series of rolling hills on top of the mountain. I'm sure now that I'm coming down, because in front of me is a vast panorama, well below this altitude. I regret having to go down, because I'm just going to have to come up again to get to Flagstaff, but it'll feel nice and I'll get some miles under my belt. I've now travelled more than two hundred miles on this bike trip, and since my original calculation was a 2400-mile trip, I would say that I'm about one-twelfth complete. And as for today, I've just about knocked off my thirtieth mile. It's been slow going, but I hope to make up some ground here, coming down the mountain.

2456.4 [204.3 miles]. Amazing. I've just now gotten to the bottom of that hill, and I reached a top speed of forty-two miles per hour on the way down. That's the fastest [that] I've ever been moving on a bicycle. Sad to say, but dark clouds have moved in, and on the way down the hill I felt a smattering of rain drops. I sure hope [that] they hold off until I get camped for the evening.

I forgot to mention that while I was on the top of the mountain, I stopped to have lunch. I had bought a small loaf of rye bread and some chicken lunch meat in Payson this morning, and I stopped to eat two sandwiches along with some vegetable crackers. It sure hit the spot. Also, as I rode along through the dark, pine forest, I listened to classical music from the [Northern Arizona] University radio station out of Flagstaff[.] The mood was awfully strange. I associate classical music with movies anyway, because most movies are scored with classical music, and so wherever I looked into the forest I imagined that a movie was being shot, and that I was watching it. At one point I saw a white-faced guernsey cow staring at me through the pines. How surreal it looked! I thought for a moment that I was watching an avant-garde movie.

Now the terrain is inclining again. There are huge rocks on either side of me that have been cut through to make the roadway, so I'll put the recorder away and push my way up the hill.

2464.2 [212.1 miles]. I've [travelled] forty miles so far today. Right now I'm on the road leading northward to Flagstaff. A few moments ago I came to a turnoff, and there was a single gas station there, so I stopped for a can of lemonade and chatted with the owners and clerks for a few minutes. For the first time since I've been in Arizona I feel like I'm in the "Old West." With the tall pine trees and the cattle grazing every now and then, I somehow feel that I'm at the "Ponderosa," which is the name of the ranch in the old "Bonanza" [television] series. A man came into the gas station with a pickup [truck], climbed out with a huge belly and a large pair of overalls, and I thought [that] he could have passed for "Hoss" on [the] Bonanza [show]. I think, too, that this is "conservative" country. A couple of things tell me that. First, I overheard the man at the gas pump say, "Who requires that?," and the attendant said, "The government." [The man then] said, "I don't care about the government." Second, outside the gas station I saw a poster for (apparently) a local sheriff. The only words on the poster were "Joe Richards"—the name of the candidate, supposedly—and the pose was striking. The sheriff (or candidate) was dressed out in full uniform, standing with thumbs in pocket, peering out from under the broad-rimmed hat. It looked like a caricature from some movie. But, I must say, he looked like a sheriff, and among conservative folk that may be sufficient to get their votes.

This road leading into Flagstaff is a sight for sore eyes. For about three or four miles now I've been pedalling in a high gear, gradually downhill. The road itself is a reddish color; I'm not sure why that is. But there's a nice bike path on the side, the rain is holding off for the moment, and I'm trying to recapture some of the mileage [actually, time] that I lost while pushing my bike up those mountains.

One of the men at the gas station, upon being asked, told me that Flagstaff was fifty-four miles from that intersection. As soon as he said that, he said, "Yup, drive it every day," as if that were something to be proud of. Without even having known that man, I could tell that he was intoxicated.

About a mile and a half back, I saw a [National] Forest Service truck and several small fires on each side of the road. When I got closer, I saw a sign reading, "Forest Service, Prescribed Burn." Two or three men in yellow jackets were keeping the blazes under control. I always thought that it would be an exciting job to be a member of the National Forest Service or one of the state park ranger services. It would give me a chance to be outside, near and around animals, and not cooped up with books and paperwork all day. Oh, here's another [fire] to my right, in front of me. [It] must be another Forest Service [prescribed] burn.

2473.3 [221.2 miles]. Hills, hills, hills! What am I going to do? The first few miles from [Highway] 87 to [the town of] Happy Jack were pleasantly sloping downward, but then the hills began, and I just finished climbing what I hope is the last one for a ways. In fact, right now I'm on one of the few flat spots that I've seen on the entire trip. Judging from past experience, however, it won't last.

The weather conditions deteriorated since last I picked up this recorder. With thunder rolling in front of me in every direction, the raindrops came down progressively harder until I decided to stop and cover the bike up temporarily. I sat down by a tree with my raincoat on, looking at the map, until moments later the sun appeared from behind the clouds and the rain ceased. Right near me was a tree which had been blown to smithereens by lightning. I wonder if it happened in the recent past, perhaps today.

No sooner did I get on the road again [than rain]drops began to fall. So, once again, I covered the bike up and waited a few minutes until it slowed down. Right now the sun is shining full force, approximately three hours into the western sky. Behind me is a long decline, and the sky is considerably darker there than it is ahead. It looks like the worst is behind me. The road is still wet, and there is an incline directly in front of me. I'm going to take my flannel shirt off and start walking the bike up the hill. I'm determined to get to Lakeview State Park tonight. I think that it's about twenty-five or so miles from here. If I don't make it on my own, I'll hitchhike and try to get a ride again. But the only thing that'll stop me at this point is hills, and possibly more rain. But I think [that] the rain is out of the picture, for the moment.

2474.8 [222.7 miles]. It sure is quiet up on this mountaintop. But then, that's one of the reasons [why] I wanted to go on this bike trip—to be alone, to have peace of mind, [to] think freely, [to] forget about worries and cares: just me against the elements.

I made it to the top of another hill, and I'm now moving slowly down the other side. The town of Happy Jack can't be far in the distance. [I never did find the town.] Once I arrive there, it'll be approximately twenty-four miles to Lakeview State Park, which is just south of Flagstaff. From my reckoning, the park itself is at 7000 feet, and that's slightly above the altitude of the city of Flagstaff. So if I can make it to the park tonight, the worst will be behind me. I can get up in the morning, coast into Flagstaff for breakfast, and head northward toward the Grand Canyon. It's amazing how far I've come in less than three days. I'm actually quite proud of myself, not having ridden a bike in several weeks and having to ride through rain and hot weather—and of course the hills. So far, so good.

It's fix time for political junkies. Yes, I'm a political junkie. I admit it. Have been since at least 1975, when I began studying political science as a college freshman. With the Democrat National Convention underway, it's hard for me to think or write about anything else. Thank goodness the Tour de France is over and the Olympic Games have yet to begin; otherwise, I'd have a two-track mind.

Does it seem to you as though liberals feel entitled to govern? It does to me. This sense of entitlement has two sources. First, liberals think they're more intelligent than conservatives. Do you want to be governed by a smart crowd or a dumb crowd? Second, liberals think they're better (specifically, more compassionate) than conservatives. Governance, they suggest, is a matter of having sympathy for the disadvantaged. It's about having your heart in the right place. Liberals loved it when Bill Clinton said he felt his interlocutors' pain. It struck just the right note with them.

Both liberal beliefs are false. I've addressed the first of them—about alleged conservative stupidity—in a Tech Central Station column. See here. With regard to the second, I can only point to the law of unintended consequences. Most liberals I know, and I know quite a few of them, having been one, are well-meaning and admirably motivated. They sincerely believe that their policy prescriptions, if implemented, will make the world a better place for all concerned. If only those dastardly conservatives would get out of the way, they seem to say, we would have heaven on earth.

But intentions are not outcomes. Most liberal programs have had bad outcomes, even by liberal standards. Programs designed to end poverty, for example, have entrenched it—and in the process created a class of bureaucrats who have a vested interest in continuing the very programs that have failed. Programs designed to create opportunities for African-Americans have generated resentment among whites and an insidious assumption that any African-American who "makes it" is unqualified. Imagine the effect this has on the self-respect of African-Americans. If you deprive a person of self-respect, you take away the most important thing he or she has.

Liberals think that the means to world peace is negotiation (conciliation, compromise). No conservative opposes world peace. But not all conflicts are resolvable through negotiation, for that requires rational, self-interested agents. Our enemies today—radical Muslims—are irrational, at least by Western standards. They value destruction of their enemies more than their own lives or the lives of their loved ones. How do you negotiate with someone who is suicidal? How do you negotiate with someone who wants your death more than anything else? You have no leverage. The only way to deal with implacable, irrational enemies is through force. Conservatives, to their credit, understand this. Liberals do not.

When you think about it, it's ironic that liberals believe they're more intelligent than conservatives, because an intelligent person tempers idealism with reality. Liberals conveniently ignore certain unpleasant realities, such as the effect redistributive policies have on incentive. The more people are taxed, the less incentive they have to work or invest. Liberals think that if we sit down nicely with our enemies, we can bring them around. This may work with some enemies, but not all. In their zeal to ensure that everyone has a decent minimum of health care and other necessities, liberals ignore self-respect, self-esteem, and personal responsibility. When is the last time you heard a liberal talk about such things, much less emphasize them? And yet, aren't they crucially important? Shouldn't every policy take them into account?

It's no accident that liberals are called do-gooders. They mean well, but they usually end up making things worse. Their hearts bleed for the disadvantaged, but, by helping them, liberals create unhealthy dependencies, disincentives, and dysfunctions that end up harming the very people and communities they intend to help. It's tempting to conclude that liberals are stupid, but I think it's more complicated than that. They're impatient. They want results now, not later. They're shallow. They view humans as sentient beings, not as rational, autonomous agents. They're impetuous. They don't think through the implications of their policies.

With all due respect to my liberal friends, these are not the traits of the wise. They are the traits of children. Not only are liberals not entitled to govern; they don't deserve to govern. They need to grow up, develop a more holistic view of the person, develop a more realistic view of human nature, and cultivate a sense of patience. They need to stop patting themselves on the back for being benevolent, compassionate, caring, and sympathetic. Benevolence is neither necessary nor sufficient for acting rightly. Caring, far from being a synonym for justice, is often an impediment to it. It's not for nothing that we say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Liberals prove it every day.

7-29-84 2352.8 [100.7 miles]. It's Sunday morning. I've been on the road for about two hours, [but] I've gone only about nine miles. Just a few moments ago I got to the top of the mountain and right now I'm coasting down the other side. It's a fantastic feeling after working so hard to get up the mountain. The altitude at the top of the mountain was 4983 feet—just incredible. That means that I have to come down about 1400 feet to get to Globe, which is at 3500 feet. As I see it, I climbed from 1900 feet to 4900 feet in roughly twenty miles, from Winkelman to the top of the peak, and I'm going to have to climb about 3400 feet from Globe to Flagstaff. So it's encouraging to realize that I won't have to climb much higher to get into Flagstaff than I already did.

My top speed coming down the mountain so far was thirty-seven miles per hour. Right now I'm clipping along at about twenty-seven [miles per hour], and it looks like "clear sailing" in the next mile or so. Let me backtrack a bit to give the mileage when I started out this morning. It was 2343.6, which means that I rode ninety-one and a half miles yesterday, the first day of the trip. Not bad.

Let me pick up with the events of yesterday. After I weathered the storm, so to speak, and after I [went] downhill for several miles, I came to a steep incline. I was looking for the dirt road to Pioneer Pass State Park, so that I could camp for the night, but I never did find it. I saw a couple of gravel roads, but there were no signs indicating that the park was on th[ose] road[s], so I pressed on. I decided that I would try to get to Globe, if possible, and, if not, I would have to find a convenient place on the side of the road to pitch my tent and sleep. But I was feeling incredibly sticky and sweaty, so I wanted as much as possible to find a shower. But that wasn't to be. The upward climb was just endless. I began pushing my bike very early on, and when the sun was about an hour up in the western sky, I decided that I would stick my thumb up for random trucks, in the hope that I could get a ride into Globe, where I would rent a cheap motel room for the night. But nobody saw fit to stop and help me, so I plugged on, cursing the trip itself.

This is awfully strange. I just passed a sign reading, "Globe City Limits," and there is no living thing or human structure to be seen. I'm out in the middle of a barren desert, with hills and scrub plants everywhere, but no sign of life. I don't expect to arrive in Globe proper for another five and a half miles or so. Anyway, to finish the events of yesterday, I finally came to a point where I was just too tired to go on. Rain drops had begun falling again, and so I feared that if I didn't pitch my tent right away, I would end up getting soaked and end up spending the night shivering and freezing because of the wetness. I picked out a small, flat area near the side of the road and picked up a few rocks from the area, threw the tent pad down, and proceeded to pitch the tent. Rain drops were falling all the while, but I managed to get the tent up and the bike covered before it grew too heavy.

Before I went to sleep I washed my face and upper body with a cold, wet towel, dried myself off, and ate a peanut butter sandwich and cookie for supper. The ground was lumpy and hard, but not much harder than the floor [that] I've been sleeping on for nearly a year [in my apartment], so I actually had a pretty good night's sleep. During the night I awoke several times to the sound of passing vehicles, lightning flashes, thunder rolls, and the rain, pelting down onto the tent. My hope was that the tent wouldn't leak, and I was happy to see that it didn't. What happened was that dew drops formed on the inside of the tent, and if you touch the inside of the tent, that will cause a drip, and water will come through the tent. So I had to be careful not to hit the top of the tent with my head or anything while I [was] inside of it. Well, I can now say that I've weathered a mountain storm in the middle of the day, and also held up through a nighttime storm in my tent. In fact, I had hoped that I wouldn't have to pitch a tent on the side of the road, but everything worked out well, and here I am on my way into Globe.

I awoke this morning to the gentle rays of the sun coming into the tent from the east, over the mountains. After rolling around for an hour or so on the sleeping bag, I finally got up and prepared to move on. After brushing my teeth with cold water and packing up all of my gear onto the bike, I sat briefly [on a rock] reading the [news]paper while I ate my last peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and my last two cookies, and pulled out onto the road to continue pushing my bike up to the top of the peak. The experience of pushing a bike up a steep mountain is just horrible. I grew so tired that I had to stop every hundred yards to catch my breath, and then I would grab []hold of the bike and push on. I cursed the fact that I had come through Globe instead of the Phoenix vicinity, where I'm sure [that the terrain] would have been flatter[.] But, as they say, every hill has its downside, and I'm still taking advantage of that. Today, I would like to get at least as far as the northern tip of Roosevelt Lake, if not farther. I'll have to wait and see what the conditions are and how I feel.

From the time I was in Oracle Junction until now, I've been on Highway 77, but I am quickly approaching a junction with Highway 70. I'll be taking that into Globe, and then coming out of Globe on still another highway. And so, on I go.

I'm at the edge of Globe. I notice that it has an elevation of 3544 feet, it was founded in 1876, and it's the home of "Gila Pueblo College." Mileage is [currently] 2358.8 [106.7 miles].

2369.5 [117.4 miles]. Right now I'm sitting on top of a little hill outside of the city of Globe. The first thing that I did when I got into Globe was pull into a McDonald's [restaurant] and have a large breakfast. I had scrambled eggs, an English muffin with jelly, three pancakes with syrup, hash browns, a raspberry Danish, and a large coffee. I felt uncomfortable waiting inside [of the restaurant] to order [the meal] because I must be stinking up a storm by now. I haven't showered since Friday night, when I got home from Phoenix, and I probably won't shower again until later on tonight. But I feel halfway decent right now. As long as I can clean my face and hands, that takes away most of the discomfort.

After I ate breakfast, I stopped at a Circle K [convenience store] to buy some more ice and [to] fill up my half-gallon jugs, so [that] I'll have plenty of iced water. In fact, each day I think [that] it would be a good idea to fill the jugs with iced water before I move on.

Globe is a strange-looking town. It sits amidst the mountains, and I think that it's a mining town, because there was this huge, long, white mountain to the west of town, and I could see a gravel truck of some sort driving along one of the terraces. I assume that it's some sort of ore mine or other—maybe even a copper open-strip mine. But it was a sight to see, coming upon it all of a sudden: a long—perhaps a mile-long—white mountain.

A few moments ago I stopped at a roadside park to put my tape player on my pants, which is the first time that I've listened to a tape on the trip. I also went to the bathroom and took my vitamins, so in a few moments I'll be back on the road toward Roosevelt Lake. I'm getting excited, because I saw a sign back there which said, "Roosevelt Dam, 29 Miles." I'm hoping to see a large dam and lake with a lot of scenic places. Well, here goes. It looks like a nice, downhill ride for a few miles.

2377.2 [125.1 miles]. I'm still between Globe and Roosevelt Lake, in the midst of pushing my bike up a huge mountain, just as I did before. Dark clouds have moved overhead, and I felt some sprinkles a while back. It doesn't look good for me.

I had no idea that there would be this many mountains on the route [that] I had selected. I knew that when I got into Utah and Wyoming I would have to do some pushing, but I didn't think [that] I'd have to do much [pushing] in Arizona—at least this [far south] in the state. All told, I've probably pushed my bike ten miles so far. My back is extremely red from the sun. I can feel it "burn" every now and then, so I must have a sunburn. One of the things that I wanted to do on this trip was to get out into the elements—that is, be cold when it's cold outside, hot when it's hot [outside], live through the rain showers and the cold nights, etcetera. By the time I get back I should be quite dark, and also in better physical shape.

Usually, when it rains here in Arizona, the clouds pass over quite quickly, dropping their load and then moving on. But these clouds don't seem to be moving very fast. They're stretching from the southern part of the sky clear across to the north of me. I'm currently feeling sprinkles, and if it gets much harder I'll just stop the bike and throw the rain cover over it until [the storm] goes by.

2379.3 [127.2 miles]. I saw a dead rattlesnake beside the road a few miles back. It was puffed up, so I couldn't really tell how thick it was, but it was about three feet long. I took a picture of it so [that] I'd have a record to show [people].

Right now I'm cruising downhill at thirty-five miles an hour, and Roosevelt Lake is directly before me. It's absolutely breathtaking! I've been cruising at thirty-five miles an hour for a couple of miles now, and it looks like I've got a long way to go, because it's almost straight downhill.

I just about had an accident a few moments ago. A truck was cruising behind me as I was going about thirty-five to thirty-seven miles an hour, and there was some sand on the road—apparently washed across from a wash of some sort. I slowed down as much as I could before I got there, but it was too late, and I went bumpety-bump-bump over that sand, hanging on tightly to the handle bars—and I made it through OK. Everything seems to be in place on the bike.

This is by and large [sic: should be "far and away"] the funnest [sic] I've had on the trip. There's no way I can describe how I feel cruising down this mountain after all the work that I've done. The only taint is that it's currently raining, or at least starting to, but I'm going to press onward.

2381.7 [129.6 miles]. I'm still clipping along at thirty-two miles an hour without pedalling. The lake is getting nearer and the rain is letting up, but I think [that] I have a long way to coast yet.

2387.4 [135.3 miles]. I'm currently driving alongside Roosevelt Lake. So far, so good, with the weather, but the sky is clouded up in every direction now. Some of the clouds don't look good. I've been riding down a long, gradual incline [sic] for some time now, and I feel very good. I stopped at a small store to get two cans of Lipton iced tea and some postcards, and my feeling at this point is that I should try to get to Payson tonight. I know [that] there aren't any campgrounds there, but I've spent so little money thus far that I may just pop for a cheap hotel or motel. There are still several hours of daylight left, so I might as well take advantage of them. In the meantime, I'm going to be listening to the Dodgers-Reds [baseball] game on my little headset. The game is in the fourth inning and it's one to nothing, Dodgers.

2393.8 [141.7 miles]. I've now ridden over fifty miles today, and I still plan to make it to Payson before nightfall. Right now I'm paralleling very closely Roosevelt Lake. It's so big, I just can't get over it. In Michigan, we have the Great Lakes, and of course one can't see across those. But I haven't seen a "small" lake of this size, if you know what I mean. It just goes on and on, mile after mile. Right now I'm going down a fairly steep decline, and I saw a sign along the road a few moments ago which said, "Steep Mountain Curves, Next 32 Miles." Right below me, at the moment, is a motor boat pulling a water skier, and overhead the thunder is still rolling. Orel Hershiser of the Dodgers has a perfect game through six innings.

The thunderstorms I said I love (see the immediately preceding post) may have done a number on my computer overnight. When I got up this morning, the DSL modem didn't work. I've been on the telephone all morning with EarthLink technicians—to no avail. Someone is going to have to come to my house tomorrow to solve the problem, which means I have to clean the house. Where to begin? To make matters worse, I can't even use the dial-up connection on my Dell computer (the fast one), so I had to fire up the Compaq to post this. It's maddeningly slow. If I don't post anything for a while, you know why.

I love thunderstorms. Always have. There's something warm and romantic about them. I've been blessed to live in three states—Michigan, Arizona, and Texas—that have spectacular thunderstorms. We're in one right now. I should get off the computer in case the power goes out, which it sometimes does. That's okay; I've been on the computer long enough today. Time to make popcorn and watch the ballgame and the political shows. See you in the morning.

Dr John J. Ray is giving 'em hell. But hey, they deserve it. See here.

Just one in four U.S. adults exercised enough in the 1990s, the government said Thursday. Only 25.4 percent of adults met government recommendations for physical activity in 1998—virtually unchanged from the beginning of the decade, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said. Almost 30 percent reported no physical activity. The CDC recommends a half hour of moderate exercise, such as walking, five times a week, or 20 minutes of vigorous exercise, such as running, three times a week. The findings are based on random phone surveys conducted by health officials in 43 states and the District of Columbia between 1990 and 1998.

(From wire reports, The Dallas Morning News, 9 March 2001)

7-28-84 Saturday. [What follows is a literal transcription of notes from a microcassette. Bracketed material has been inserted after the fact to flesh out and correct original impressions.] The Second Great Bike Ride has now begun. As I walk out the door, the time is 6:37 A.M., the odometer reads 2252.1, and the outdoor temperature is eighty-nine degrees. For the remainder of the trip, each time [that] I turn on the recorder I'll give the mileage, and then say what I have to say.

2277.0 [24.9 miles]. I'm finally on the way. It's hard to believe that I've got all of my work done and [that] I'm out in the open on the highway with the bike. Right now it's, oh, probably ten o'clock or so. I've been riding since six thirty, roughly, and I'm riding northward on Highway 89 right now, somewhere south of Oracle Junction. A few minutes ago I stopped by the side of the road to take a drink of water and eat a small, energy[-producing] candy bar. The weather conditions are just excellent. The sun is out to my right, slightly overhead; most of the sky is just a deep blue, but there are some white, fluffy clouds over the mountains to my right. There are no mountains in front of me, but there are some to my left a few miles, not too big. To my right and behind me are some huge mountains, the Santa Catalinas. I'm just now climbing out of the Oro Valley, I think. It's been a hilly ride and I hope to get onto some flat ground after Oracle Junction, when I hit the Pinal Pioneer Parkway. Riding conditions thus far have been excellent. Right now I've got about a six foot to seven foot stretch of asphalt to the side of the road, all to myself, and I've had this sort of shoulder almost since I left the city limits of Tucson. I certainly hope [that] it continues like this for most of the distance through Arizona, but I sincerely doubt it. Traffic is quite heavy for a Saturday morning, but I think [that] I know why. A lot of the vehicles are pulling boats and campers and trailers, so I suspect that, like in Michigan, they're going up north for some recreation this weekend. By Monday that shouldn't be much of a problem, because the work week will have resumed. Well, here comes a hill, so I'm going to break, so I can put [the bike] into first [gear] and get up it.

2279.9 [27.8 miles]. I was faced with a serious moral dilemma a few miles back. As I was approaching the Oro Valley, with the Santa Catalina Mountains looming over me to my right, I noticed that there were [large, yellowish] caterpillars crawling from my right to my left toward the road en masse. Now, I didn't want to run over any of them, but, on the other hand, I didn't want to be watching the ground constantly to be avoiding them, so I had to choose a course of action [that] I should pursue. What came to mind was Peter Singer's argument that we have duties to assist the starving of the world. Singer argues that, if it is possible—if it is within our power to prevent something bad from happening, without sacrificing anything of comparable moral importance, we ought to do it. And the second premise here would be [that] it's a bad thing to kill caterpillars, and I think [that] that's true. . . .

2306.3 [54.2 miles]. Well, I've come a long way since I was interrupted, discussing the moral dilemma about the caterpillars. What happened was that a man rode up to me on my left as I was pedalling along and started talking, so I ended up riding with him and chatting for a good ten miles, I think. He was from Salt Lake City himself, and so he told me as much as he could about the route there, things to do and see in and around Salt Lake City, and so forth. He seemed [to be] more excited than I was about the trip. He kept saying, over and over, "Oh, I'd love to do that; you're going to have a great time." He was especially enthusiastic about the route that I've selected—predominantly Highway 89 all the way to Yellowstone. He said that he had driven that route many times in his car, and that it was very scenic and well worth the ride. That was encouraging, because much of my trip has been planned from a very detached standpoint. I've looked at maps, talked to people, and so forth, and decided which route I would take. In fact, the more I talk to people about the trip, and the route, the more encouraging it all sounds.

A pickup [truck] just went by with three girls in the back, and they were giggling and screeching when they saw me; so, of course, I waved. You've got to humor those kids. Well, let me backtrack to the caterpillars, and I'll work my way up to the present, because a lot, as I say, has changed. Right now the terrain is favorable, and I'm not too much out of breath, so I'll catch up.

As I was saying, with respect to Singer's argument, I think [that] it applies to this caterpillar dilemma because it says, basically, that if it's within a person's power to prevent something bad from happening, without thereby sacrificing anything of comparable moral importance, that the person, morally speaking, ought to prevent it. In this case, since killing—or running over—a caterpillar would be a morally bad thing, in my opinion, I would need to justify not taking extraordinary steps to prevent harm to them. But I think [that] my actions were permissible, for this reason. Of all the things that I could do to prevent harm to the caterpillars, you could arrange those things on a continuum, and I think that my actions were at the innocuous, or harmless, end of the continuum, at least the more justifiable end of the continuum. Here's why. One of the things [that] I could do to prevent harm to the caterpillars would be to block off the road so [that], not only would I not hit one, but no other vehicles would hit one, either. That would be at one end of the continuum, I think. At the other end of the continuum would be to do nothing; and yet, I think [that] my actions fell somewhere near the end of taking some steps. That is, I kept my eye out part of the time and dodged those [caterpillars] that I did see crossing in front of me.

The problem here is [in] determining what is something of "comparable moral importance." Now, clearly—well, maybe not clearly—a caterpillar's life is more important than me getting to Yellowstone earlier than I might otherwise have gotten there. And so, it might seem that the trade is between a life and simply getting somewhere a bit earlier, but that's too simplified a view. It's not a question of a life, as if all life, per se, has infinite positive value. Some lives are more valuable or worthy than others. In [Peter] Singer's book Animal Liberation, for instance, there's a discussion of the different pain thresholds of various living organisms, and Singer thinks that that's a relevant consideration in weighing [the moral propriety of] action. Here, I think that the caterpillars, for one thing, are very numerous; that counts against saving any particular one of them. Secondly, a caterpillar arguably doesn't experience the same intensity of pain as, say, a human. And so the pain inflicted by running over a caterpillar would have to be discounted by the fact that it is a caterpillar.

One way, I think, to avoid the—or to solve—the dilemma is to distinguish between acting and omitting to act. In other words, I don't think that I owe a duty to save the caterpillars, but only to avoid harming them, and I think [that] I have to take only reasonable steps to avoid that harm. In this case, I think [that] the steps that I took were reasonable—that is, keeping an eye out, swerving to avoid those caterpillars that I saw, and continuing on my way.

Having resolved that dilemma—for the time being, at least—let me move on to other things. After the young man veered off, I continued on my way on Highway 77, which, at that point (at Oracle Junction), veered sharply to the east. I continued that way for several miles and found myself getting progressively more tired as I pedalled. At the time, I didn't know what was the cause of my fatigue. I didn't know whether it was the heat, or the wind, or the terrain, or perhaps that I am not used to riding the bike. But now I know what the cause was: It was the terrain. I was riding up a long, gradual incline going into the town of Mammoth—strike that: into the town of Oracle. Midway up the incline I decided to take a break. The sun was beating down quite severely on me, and I was getting tired, so I thought that a break might give me a renewed spirit. I found a halfway decent tree on the north side of the road, put my bike under it, and actually sprawled out and took a short nap for about fifteen minutes. When I got up, I was surprised to see dark clouds moving over me from the south, and I actually felt a few light sprinkles as I pedalled. But nothing further came of it, and the clouds have somehow scattered themselves across the sky. There seems to be no immediate threat of rain, although I heard on the radio this morning that there was a thirty percent chance of rain this afternoon.

The short break helped a little bit. I felt a little surge of energy as I pedalled on, and every time I saw a crest of a hill I kept hoping that I had finally reached the top of whatever I was climbing. And finally, to my happiness, I realized that I was at the peak of a mountain or hill and that I would be riding downhill for quite some time. In fact, there was a sign which said, "Seven degree incline, next twelve miles." You can imagine how happy I was to see that. The long descent led into the town of Mammoth, which, as I take it, is an old mining town. The homes were bare and plain, and there were a few battered stores scattered around town. Off in the distance I could see smokestacks, and smoke coming from them, so I inferred that there is some kind of smelter or copper mill off in the distance there. And I even saw some fertile fields in the near distance, so I assume that the residents are growing some sort of cash crop here, probably using irrigation to grow it. Right to my left, at this moment, is another farming operation of some sort. I see fence rows and lots of green, which stands out here in Arizona. I also see trailer houses and a few short rows of northern trees, so they must be irrigating in that area; northern trees wouldn't grow here naturally.

Now, to back up just a few more minutes: While I was in Mammoth I stopped at a Circle K store [and] bought a large Snickers bar and two cans of Lipton iced tea. I drank one can [of the tea] and ate the candy bar while I looked at the map, outside, and now I'm on my way toward Winkelman, which, I'm told, is about twenty-one miles from Mammoth. While I was at the store, a young man saw my bike as he got off his motorcycle and asked how far I was going. I said, "Yellowstone," and he shook his head a little bit and smiled and said, "You've got a long way to go!" And I said, "Yes, I know; I'm just starting out, and it's going to be rough." At that point he gave me some advice—or at least some information. He said that from Mammoth to Winkelman the terrain is basically flat to downhill, but that starting in Winkelman, there is a steady incline going into Globe. I told him that I had inferred that from the map, because Mammoth is at about 2300 feet [in] elevation, while Globe is at 3500 feet. I enjoyed talking with that young man.

Finally, as I was leaving the Circle K store and heading northward out of Mammoth, a group of men at a gas station saw me as they were standing around a Jeep, and one of them yelled out, "Where you headed, buddy?" and I yelled back, "Yellowstone!" And then as I turned my head I heard one say, "You've got a long way to go!" Ha ha.

2311.5 [59.4 miles]. The weather's gorgeous. The sun's beating down on my back, there are white clouds scattered throughout the sky (none directly over me, however), the humidity doesn't seem to be too high today, and there's not much of a breeze. So I'm pretty happy with these riding conditions. The terrain here between Mammoth and Winkelman is typical of southern Arizona. There are rolling hills in every direction, mountains in the distance on both sides of me, and every now and then I see a green field of some sort in the middle distance. I can't tell what crop's being raised, but it's clearly some agricultural operation. Everywhere else there are these small trees and bushes. I actually don't know the names of them—they might be mesquite bushes—but I'll find out some day. There are also huge saguaro cactus [sic] interspersed throughout the countryside.

I, personally, feel just fine. I seem to have gotten a surge of energy in the last hour or so from riding downhill and stopping for an iced tea, and I must admit that the terrain is basically downhill here. I think [that] I am in about seventh gear, and I'm pedalling every once in a while, because I can actually coast down this incline [sic]. There is still a bike path on the side of this road, much to my delight. It is about six feet wide, extremely smooth, and just fine for riding. I don't have to worry about the cars hitting me or bothering me, I have room to maneuver (so I don't have to ride a tight line, as I sometimes do), and the riding is just great.

I have a correction to make. A while back, I said that I would be taking Highway 89 all the way to Yellowstone. That's not true. In fact, I turned off on Highway 77 in Oracle Junction, quite a few miles ago, and I'll be on this highway at least through Globe, and perhaps all the way into Flagstaff, at which time I'll pick up [Highway] 89 again. But I don't care what they call it [the highway]; it's a beautiful ride, and I'm going to enjoy it.

2330.5 [78.4 miles]. Well, I'm finally north of Winkelman. I've gone almost eighty miles for the day, which was the goal [that] I had set for myself, but I'm going to try to get to one of the state parks [Pinal Mountain or Pioneer Pass] tonight. It's a little bit after four o'clock, and conditions aren't too good. So far I've avoided rain, but just barely. In fact, the road and the side of the road right now contain puddles, so it has rained here in the past couple of hours, I'd say. And right now the sky is clouded over pretty thickly, including some dark clouds, and there's thunder rolling in the background. I knew when I started this trip that I'd encounter considerable rain, but that doesn't mean [that] I won't try to avoid it, if I can. It looks like there is a clearing ahead of me, and so I think [that] if I keep moving, I may be able to avoid the remainder of at least this storm.

The rock formations in this area are just incredible. I'm actually riding through a mountain range, predominantly downhill (although now I'm moving uphill), and there's a nice creek or stream running along the road to my right. There are huge, green trees growing all around the stream, and things are greener here than they have been all day. I wouldn't mind camping by a stream tonight, if I have to, but, ideally, I'd like to get to a state park so I can shower. I am sweating profusely—have been all day. It would feel great to get a shower at this point.

Winkelman is so small, I don't know how it got onto the Arizona map. By the time I pulled into town, I was running low on water (for the first time today), so I veered off course a bit to the nearest retail outlet, where I bought a bag of ice and got permission from the proprietor—or clerk—to fill my two half-gallon jugs full of water. I now have a full allotment of water, that being two half-gallon jugs, which I carry one on each side of the front, in the panniers, and two water bottles, one slightly larger than the other. It sure was nice to drink iced water again, after sipping on a lukewarm-to-hot water bottle for several hours.

This terrain is spectacular. There to my right is the creek, veering every which way through the canyon. I just passed through a carved area, made for the highway, and I'm now going further into the canyon. There are steep mountains on each side of the road. The thunder's still rolling; it's actually getting dark, prematurely (because of the clouds); but I'm pressing on. Sweat's dripping into my eyes, but I don't care; I'm having fun.

2331.6 [79.5 miles]. As usual, on this trip, I have my small, stereo radio with headphones, and I also brought my cassette deck with me along with eleven tapes. I haven't listened to any tapes yet, but I've been listening to the radio off and on all day. Right now I can't get any FM stations, but I did listen a while back to part of a Cincinnati-L[os] A[ngeles] baseball game and to some news programs. I understand that the Olympic games in Los Angeles will officially begin in about an hour, or maybe less. I would probably watch a lot of the events on television if I were home, but now that I'm on the trip, I'll probably follow the activities in the newspaper each day.

It's actually too bad that it's dark, or that it's considerably overcast, because I'd love to have some pictures of these mountains. They're carved away in several locations where the road has to pass through, and they're just the most beautiful green and brown colors. I love the way the shadows play off the mountains. The ones further back tend to be darker and more flat-looking, while the ones in the foreground have depth and color and contour to them. One of my favorite photographs of all time is a photograph of Yosemite [National Park] taken by the late Ansel Adams. It shows Yosemite National Park with a variation of shadowing from foreground to background. It's just beautiful because of the depth that you can see in the picture itself.

Bad news! I felt some drops hit my back. I'm going to put the recorder away and zoom "homeward."

2334.0 [81.9 miles]. Just after I spoke those words, I located a small ravine coming down from the mountains to my left[.] I rushed in with my bike, located my plastic covers as quickly as I could (because rain was falling by then), and finally got the bike covered up before very much got wet. Then I worried about myself. First of all, I was going to sit under a tree, but then I realized that it was raining too hard to avoid [the rain] that way; so I grabbed my old raincoat, which has no hood, and . . . threw it over my head. And for the next forty-five minutes I sat there, next to my bike, with the raincoat over me, getting bombarded with rain, and even hail—hail the size of peas, at the largest! But, eventually, the rain died down, and now I'm on my way again. The road's still slightly wet, but it's drying out nicely. It's still overcast, growing late in the day, and I am cruising down a huge hill. I'm trying to make it to the state park before evening.

In front of me, in every direction, are large mountains. I know that I'm going to have to find my way through them, sooner or later, but I hope [that it's] "later," because I've gotten over eighty miles in today and I'm—[well,] I'd say I'm tired. I'd rather get up in the morning and take on the mountains. I finally lost my bike path a while back. The road here is two lanes, and I have to ride on the road itself, but the traffic is fairly sparse and I don't think [that] there's much risk of an accident. I just stay as far to the right as I can when vehicles are passing.

Hmm. I saw a sign about a minute ago which said, "Watch For Animals, Next Twenty Miles," and now I see a sign which says, "Watch For Pedestrians." [It] must be a busy intersection here! And so on I pedal—damp, [with] soaking wet shoes, but [in] good spirits. I still can't believe [that] I'm on the trip. There's been just so much work.

Twenty years ago today (can it be?), I began a long-planned and much-anticipated bicycle trip from Tucson, Arizona, to Yellowstone National Park. It was the summer between my first and second years of graduate school at The University of Arizona. Two years earlier, I had ridden my Sears Free Spirit bike around Michigan (742 miles) in ten days, so I knew I was up to it.

The summer of 1984 had been extremely busy. Too busy. I taught a five-week Introduction to Philosophy course, entertained friends for a week (in my tiny apartment), wrote a long fellowship paper (later published as "The Ethics and Economics of Right-to-Farm Statutes" in the Harvard Journal of Law & Public Policy), researched and wrote a federal appellate brief for the Michigan law firm for which I had clerked before moving to Tucson, and, most importantly, studied for and took the Arizona Bar Examination. (I was already licensed to practice law in Michigan.) The bike trip was my carrot.

The outlandish plan, unreasonable by any standard, was to ride an average of eighty miles a day for fifteen days, which would put me in Yellowstone. I would then retrace my route, arriving back in Tucson the day before fall classes began. All told, I would ride 2,400 miles in thirty days. I had only $450 with which to survive—an average of fifteen dollars a day. As you will see, the trip was aborted before I reached Utah, in part because my back was fried, but I had fun. I learned a lot about myself and about my new state during this trip.

I'm going to post the journal entries from this trip in my blog so you can see what I did, what happened to me, and how I felt. I spoke into a Sony microcassette recorder as I pedaled, and later transcribed the tapes to the computer. I will post today's entry this evening, after my softball game. Perhaps soon I'll scan and post some of the photographs I took. I have one on the wall in front of me right now. It's beautiful.

The Great Straddler

By WILLIAM SAFIRE

Boston—Too-careful politicians think the best defense is giving no offense. To avoid offending any voters, John Kerry has come down foursquare on both sides of three social issues.

1. He says he opposes the death penalty—except for terrorists.

To a principled minority that believes government must never take a human life, this Kerry straddle is untenable. It makes no sense to hold that society has no right to execute a rapist-murderer whose DNA proves guilt, nor a confessed serial killer or genocidal dictator—but if the killer's motive is to terrify, then execution is in order.

You can take an honest stand against the death penalty, as Mario Cuomo did despite the political cost, but as soon as you begin to equivocate—making exceptions based on the degree of heinousness or public fear—you erode your moral position.

2. Kerry has long identified himself with a woman's right to choose abortion, but recently revealed to a supporter that he believed "life begins at conception."

People who are resolutely pro-choice believe that life begins at birth, and that a woman has a right to abort what is taking place in her own body any time during a pregnancy. People who are resolutely pro-life believe that life begins at conception and that aborting that embryo or fetus is akin to murder.

Though the two sides disagree about when life begins, they agree on what they are arguing about. You can be pro-choice with no restrictions on abortion, or pro-life with absolute restrictions, or—like most Americans—comfortable enough with current law discouraging late-term abortion. But most find it difficult in logic to be for both extremes at the same time.

That has relevance to today's debate about federal funding for stem cell research. If you hold that life begins at conception, you have a rational basis for arguing that taxpayer dollars should not be used to augment private support for medical research that extracts stem cells from even a tiny blastocyst already destined for destruction.

Kerry is making a campaign issue out of his desire to add federal funds to this lawful research at this convention. That's the vote-getting view (and my own as well), but he will not risk disavowing his contradictory belief that "life begins at conception" lest he seem indecisive or mistaken or anti-pro-life. And so his straddle goes on.

3. He says he is against same-sex marriage, on one hand, and against a constitutional amendment to ban it, on the other. His position: leave it to the states to battle out.

Pollsters show this neat dodge to be popular. But the Supreme Court may well declare the federal Defense of Marriage Act, signed by Clinton, unconstitutional. If not, the Supremes are likely to decide that marriages legal in one state cannot be illegal in any other. To overturn that decision would require amending the Constitution, and the necessary huge majority for that is not there.

This Kerry straddle works; he can say he opposes same-sex marriage (appealing to the majority) while opposing doing what it would take to stop it (which also polls well). Bush, contrariwise, seriously opposes it and is willing to put his opposition to a test that Congress and the state legislatures would decide.

What pattern emerges from these three issues? What difference does it show in the leadership quality of the two candidates?

On the death penalty, Bush is for and Kerry straddles. On abortion, Bush is against and Kerry straddles. On same-sex marriage, Bush is demonstrably against, while Kerry is rhetorically against but cleverly finds a policy resting place that allows him to straddle.

It happens that I agree with Bush on the death penalty, prefer the Supreme Court compromises on abortion and disagree with him on a same-sex amendment. But in all cases, this president takes a stand and makes clear what it is. Bush is not trying to be, in the biblical phrase, all things to all men.

Contrariwise, these Kerry straddles are troubling in one who aspires to trustworthy leadership. I won't be watching his acceptance speech tomorrow for war stories, Clintonian crowd appeal or sudden, soaring eloquence. An end to the straddling would help.

Some proponents of homosexual "marriage" took heart recently when the Federal Marriage Amendment (FMA) failed to receive enough votes in the United States Senate. They said or implied that this shows that the American people, speaking through their elected representatives, either support homosexual "marriage" or do not feel strongly enough about it to want to ban it.

This is risible—and fallacious. What the Senate vote shows is that not many people want to amend the Constitution until they think it's necessary. But I'm confident that if they come to believe it's necessary, they will not hesitate to amend the Constitution. Too much is at stake.

It's only a matter of time before a homosexual couple "married" in Massachusetts moves to another state, such as Texas, and files suit to have the "marriage" recognized. I believe several such suits have already been filed. Some court will rule that the United States Constitution forbids states to restrict marriage to heterosexuals. At that point, the proverbial shit will hit the fan. Suppose the state in question is Texas. Texans will rise up as one and demand that their elected representatives amend the Constitution to nullify the court decision. People in other states will see what happened and follow suit.

Give it some time. Once people realize that courts are forcing homosexual "marriage" on them, without a debate and without a vote, they will see the necessity for a constitutional amendment. Right now, they hope it won't be necessary, and rightly so, for we should amend the Constitution only when necessary to protect important values. Marriage is an important value.

Some people think that the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) will protect states, but it won't. It's a statute. The United States Supreme Court may rule that DOMA is unconstitutional. Many states have enacted "baby DOMAs." These, too, will be struck down. Even state constitutional amendments prohibiting homosexual "marriage" will fall if the United States Supreme Court rules that the United States Constitution forbids states to restrict marriage to heterosexuals. The United States Constitution is the supreme law of the land. Anything to the contrary is ineffective.

If the FMA passes, no state, even Massachusetts, will be able to allow homosexual "marriage." Marriage will be restricted to heterosexuals throughout the country, as it always has been. As I've argued in this blog on several occasions (but not recently), the FMA is not a federalist provision. It denies states the right to decide for themselves whether to allow homosexual "marriage." I'm a federalist. What I would like to see is an amendment that lets each state decide for itself. If Massachusetts residents want to allow homosexual "marriage," fine. But that decision should have no effect on Texans or others.

Unfortunately, proponents of homosexual "marriage" have been unwilling to compromise. They're trying to force this absurdity on everyone. They're greedy and aggressive. It will be poetic justice if, in trying to force it on everyone, they don't get it anywhere.

Rime, n. Agreeing sounds in the terminals of verse, mostly bad. The verses themselves, as distinguished from prose, mostly dull. Usually (and wickedly) spelled "rhyme."

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

What's a vegan? How does veganism differ from vegetarianism? Is veganism healthy? These and other questions are answered by Jo Stepaniak at Grassroots Veganism. See here.

I just posted a thoughtful letter from North Carolinian Mark Ruscoe on my Ethics of War blog. See here.

I hope you're reading Donald L. Luskin's blog every day, if only to stay informed about Paul Krugman's errors, distortions, and fallacies. Keep up the good work, Don.

Masterpiece

By Dick Morris

THE master returned to center stage last night as Bill Clinton showed how to address a convention and use issues to win elections.

Facing a national consensus that terror, Iraq and homeland security are the key issues, Bill Clinton dragged America back to the domestic issues on which Democrats retain a strong edge. Long after Clinton's recitation of his own achievements has faded, his effort to reinject health care, Social Security, Medicare, drug prices, education and crime into the national debate may endure.

By reminding voters how much they would support the Democratic agenda were it not for Bush's strong stance in fighting the War on Terror, he opens the door for a major shift of national issues to those on which Kerry has a clear edge.

Can John Kerry walk through the door that Bill Clinton has opened? Will he realize that he can't win on terrorism and focus on the domestic agenda on which Democrats can win?

By framing the issues as he did, Clinton articulated the differences between Democrats and Republicans without bashing Bush by name. By avoiding the four-letter word B-U-S-H and speaking instead of party positioning on key issues, he avoided the backlash that comes against any candidate who spends his convention time bashing his opponent. But, at the same time, he attacked Bush all the same by articulating the opposition in programmatic and partisan, rather than personal terms.

How odd that it took Clinton, the draft dodger, to make the case for Kerry the war hero. By speaking of "sailing the ship," Clinton has given Kerry a metaphor he can use for the rest of the campaign.

But one other four-letter word was almost entirely absent: I-R-A-Q. Clinton raised the possibility that a Democrat can again win not just by maximizing the domestic issues that dominated our attention before 9/11, but also by minimizing the war we are now in. Rallying his constituency and his program once again, he worked to roll back the clock to the simpler times in which we once lived.

But there is still a reality out there. Al Qaeda will be heard in this election. The date is not Sept. 10, 2001. The War on Terror is unavoidable. It will intrude into this contest and remind us of why we need Bush.

But for one night, in the thrall of the master's voice, we recognize the beat of the drummer to which we once marched.

And what of the contrast between Bill's speech and Hillary's introduction? How could one witness the modulated, varied, emotional delivery of the former president and not realize that the would-be president's delivery was flat, shrill and one-dimensional? The now brown-eyed lady from New York couldn't stand on the same platform with her husband.

I believe . . . that newspaper editors and journalists bear a heavy responsibility for the prevalence of faulty spelling and grammar. Students who have not been trained to be conscious of how words are spelled and sentences constructed naturally absorb mistakes they come across in their reading. Those whose trade is in the printed word have a duty to the language, over whose use they have an exceptional influence.

(Michael Dummett, Grammar & Style: For Examination Candidates and Others [London: Duckworth, 1993], 7)

Here is a site where you can buy "metaphysical surrealist art." (I have no financial interest in it. I just like it.) By the way, here is one of my favorite album covers: Styx, The Grand Illusion (1977). I just listened to this album, which I once had on eight-track tape and now have on compact disc.

Addendum: David Cusimano sent this link as well—and he informed me that the Styx album cover is based on this work by René Magritte (1898-1967). As Johnny Carson would say, I did not know that.

This week's link is to A Field Guide to the Philosophy of Mind.

To the Editor:

In accusing Congress of voting "to deny the federal courts the ability to decide a key constitutional issue involving gay marriage" ("A Radical Assault on the Constitution," editorial, July 24), you got it backward.

Marriage has for all time and in all societies been understood as a serious commitment between a man and a woman, with benefits accorded because of the important role marriage plays in the procreation and education of children. Any radical change in this natural and historically legal definition of marriage is the responsibility of the people's elected representatives in the legislative branch, not the courts.

The "radical assault on the Constitution" is coming from our courts, not from our legislators.

Frank J. Russo Jr.
Port Washington, N.Y.
July 25, 2004
The writer is state director for the American Family Association of New York.

Daring, n. One of the most conspicuous qualities of a man in security.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

As I watch the televised proceedings of the Democrat National Convention in Boston, I can't help but think that the party is unprincipled. The message seems to be, "Vote for us and we'll take money from the wealthy and give it to you." The "you" is organized labor (including teachers), homosexuals, women, blacks, Hispanics, the poor, college students, and the elderly. (Some of these groups overlap, obviously.)

This isn't politics; it's socioeconomic warfare. It's about using the power of the state to redistribute wealth. Never mind that most wealth is earned or that much poverty is deserved. These facts inconveniently complicate the Democrat message. The appeal is to envy and greed, not to justice. It's about punishing the successful and rewarding the lazy and profligate. It's about securing power in order to engineer society.

Democrats seem oblivious to basic facts of human nature. Why should I work hard or make sacrifices if the fruits of my labor will be taken from me against my will (i.e., without my consent) and distributed to people I don't know, whether they deserve it or not? Why should anyone try to get ahead if he or she will be provided for anyway at public expense? The poorest people in the United States are light years ahead of the affluent in other nations. They're far more likely to be obese than starving. How much of the so-called homelessness problem is the result of bad choices and lack of self-control rather than misfortune?

You might say that Republicans are no more principled than Democrats. I disagree. Republicans believe in personal responsibility. It's their core value. It explains most of the planks in their platform, from reducing taxes to allowing individuals to take control of their retirement to promoting school choice to regulating or prohibiting abortion. Republicans believe that if the welfare system is dismantled, individuals will increase their charitable giving. There will be no more poverty than there is now (probably much less) and the giving will have moral worth, since it will be voluntary rather than involuntary. Coerced benevolence is an oxymoron.

I'm not a Republican, so don't dismiss this as a partisan rant. I don't subscribe to all the planks of the Republican platform. The only Republican presidential candidate I've ever voted for is Gerald Ford, when I was nineteen. I have no plan to vote for President Bush. But the Republicans are more principled than the Democrats. That, to me, is beyond cavil.

How would you like to hike across North America, from east to west (or conversely)? Daunting, eh? The next best thing to doing it is doing it vicariously. See here. (Thanks to New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof for the link.)

Several readers have asked me in recent weeks whether there is anything morally objectionable about raising animals humanely and then killing them painlessly. If the animals are raised humanely and killed painlessly, it is said, there's no suffering being inflicted. Yes, a happy animal's life is ended, but if it is replaced by an equally happy animal, how could it be wrong? The amount of happiness in the world is the same. Actually, the amount of happiness is greater, since presumably humans who consume the animal's flesh and make use of its other body parts are made happier by it.

This line of thought will appeal to certain theorists: those who believe that the sole aim of morality is to maximize overall happiness. But notice that hardly anyone thinks this way about humans. Would it be acceptable to humanely raise and painlessly kill humans if there were a use for their body parts, or if, all of a sudden, many humans acquired a taste for human flesh? I suspect you will say no. But why?

Isn't it because humans aren't interchangeable? Each human has an inherent worth or dignity. Each life is precious. If we didn't think this, we would not mourn the loss of an infant, for in most cases the infant can be replaced in a matter of months via another pregnancy. While we care very much about human happiness, we don't think that the moral value of humans is exhausted by it. Happiness is just one dimension of human value.

Why is it different for animals? Why do people think that animals, but not humans, are interchangeable, and therefore replaceable? Why do we reduce animals to their happiness, such that, if one happy animal is replaced by an equally happy animal, nothing morally significant has been lost? I submit that this is irrational. Just as each human life is precious and irreplaceable, so is each animal life. That animals can't protest their treatment as happiness-receptacles is morally irrelevant. Babies can't protest. The severely retarded can't protest. The senile can't protest. You can be sure that if animals could protest, they would.

There needs to be a revolution in our thinking about animals. They are no more replaceable than humans are. Unless you are indifferent about replacing one of your children with an equally happy child, you should not be indifferent about replacing a cow or a pig with an equally happy cow or pig. It may be convenient to apply consequentialist reasoning to animals and deontological reasoning to humans, but there is no warrant for it. It's as arbitrary as applying consequentialist reasoning to other races and deontological reasoning to one's own race.

We now have the outlines of an answer to the enigma of what women want. Women are judicious, prudent, and discerning about the men they consent to mate with because they have so many valuable reproductive resources to offer. Those with valuable resources rarely give them away indiscriminately. The costs in reproductive currency of failing to exercise choice were too great for ancestral women, who would have risked beatings, food deprivation, disease, abuse of children, and abandonment. The benefits of choice in nourishment, protection, and paternal investment for children were abundant.

Permanent mates may bring with them a treasure trove of resources. Selecting a long-term mate who has the relevant resources is clearly an extraordinarily complex endeavor. It involves at least a dozen distinctive preferences, each corresponding to a resource that helps women to solve critical adaptive problems.

That women seek resources in a permanent mate may be obvious. But because resources cannot always be directly discerned, women's mating preferences are keyed to other qualities that signal the likely possession, or future acquisition, of resources. Indeed, women may be less influenced by money per se than by qualities that lead to resources, such as ambition, status, intelligence, and age. Women scrutinize these personal qualities carefully because they reveal a man's potential.

Potential, however, is not enough. Because many men with a high resource potential are themselves discriminating and are at times content with casual sex, women are faced with the problem of commitment. Seeking love and sincerity are two solutions to the commitment problem. Sincerity signals that the man is capable of commitment. Acts of love signal that he has in fact committed to a particular woman.

To have the love and commitment of a man who could be easily downed by other men in the physical arena, however, would have been a problematic asset for ancestral women. Women mated to small, weak men lacking in physical prowess would have risked damage from other men and loss of the couple's joint resources. Tall, strong, athletic men offered ancestral women protection. In this way, their resources and commitment could be secured against incursion. Women who selected men in part for their strength and prowess were more likely to be successful at surviving and reproducing.

Resources, commitment, and protection do a woman little good if her husband becomes diseased or dies or if the couple is so mismatched that they fail to function as an effective team. The premium that women place on a man's health ensures that husbands will be capable of providing these benefits over the long haul. And the premium that women place on similarity of interests and traits with their mate helps to ensure the convergence of mutually pursued goals. These multiple facets of current women's mating preferences thus correspond perfectly with the multiple facets of adaptive problems that were faced by our women ancestors thousands of years ago.

(David M. Buss, The Evolution of Desire: Strategies of Human Mating [New York: Basic Books, 1994], 47-8)

The Democrats and the Loony Left

By Fred Barnes

THE BUSH ADMINISTRATION is curtailing democracy in America. President Bush himself, in case you hadn't noticed, is like Hitler. By the way, he knew about 9/11 beforehand. On top of that, he let Osama bin Laden's relatives sneak out of America shortly after the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. The war in Iraq? It's a war for oil. And while we're on the subject of the war, Vice President Cheney intervened to assure contracts in postwar Iraq for Halliburton, the company he once headed.

These flights of paranoia, far-out analogies, conspiracy theories, and wild charges devoid of evidence are the stock in trade of the Loony Left. Normally such ideas are ridiculed or ignored by those in the political mainstream. But these days the fantasies of the Loony Left are increasingly embraced and nearly always tolerated by the Democratic party and its auxiliary groups. The result? The Loony Left now has a toehold on the Democratic party.

A toehold, but not a foothold. The work product of the Loonies is only beginning to become mainstream among Democrats. You won't find many of the wild ideas in the party platform, nor are they routinely voiced by party leaders. But they have been treated with tolerance, rather than active disapproval, by most Democrats. So far at least, this phenomenon has cost Democrats nothing politically. Certainly they haven't been tarred in the way Republicans were in the 1990s when a few of them flirted with lunatic notions about President Clinton. Ultimately, however, identifying with the far-fetched and the eccentric is bound to harm Democrats.

The classic tactic of the Loony Left is to liken a target to Hitler. So it's not surprising that placards with Bush's face made to look like Hitler's are now commonplace at left-wing demonstrations. But who would have thought former vice president Al Gore would link, none-too-subtly, the president to Hitler? In a speech at Georgetown University in June, Gore said this: "The [Bush] administration works closely with a network of rapid responders, a group of digital brownshirts who work to pressure reporters and their editors and publishers and advertisers, and are quick to accuse them of undermining support for our troops." The brownshirts, as most people know, were Nazis working for Hitler. If any Democrats chastised Gore for this slur, I missed it.

Gore is not alone. Billionaire George Soros, a lavish Democratic donor who was recently introduced at a political event by Senator Hillary Clinton, said late last year, "When I hear Bush say, 'You're either with us or against us,' it reminds me of the Germans." He wasn't referring to the Germans today. And there was Judge Guido Calabresi of the Second U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. He told a lawyers' group in June that Bush came to power through "illegitimate acts of a legitimate institution," the U.S. Supreme Court. "The king of Italy had the right to put Mussolini in, though he had not won an election, and make him prime minister. That is what happened when Hindenburg put Hitler in." Calabresi said he wasn't "suggesting for a moment that Bush is Hitler," and he later apologized for his remarks altogether. Nonetheless, he had publicly analogized Bush's situation to Hitler's.

Michael Moore, whose anti-Bush movie Fahrenheit 9/11 has made him a favorite of Democrats, has explicitly argued Bush is moving the nation toward a Hitler-like dictatorship. "The Patriot Act is as un-American as Mein Kampf," he wrote in his book Dude, Where's My Country? Later on CNN, he said, "The Patriot Act is the first step. . . . If people don't speak up against this, you end up with something like they had in Germany." Moore was also a judge in a contest by MoveOn.org, a group closely allied with the Democratic party, to choose the best anti-Bush TV ad. Two entries, posted for a time on the MoveOn website, likened Bush to Hitler. However, MoveOn founder Wes Boyd said his organization doesn't share that sentiment.

Democrats in Washington turned out in droves for a special screening of Fahrenheit 9/11 in June. "There might be half of the Democratic Senate here," said Florida senator Bob Graham. His Florida colleague, Senator Bill Nelson, gave the film a thumbs-up as he left the theater. The film pushes numerous conspiracy theories about the president and his administration, and Democratic national chairman Terry McAuliffe latched onto one of them after viewing the movie. It involved Unocal's bid to build a natural gas pipeline in Afghanistan, which Moore suggests was the reason behind the American attack on that country. Asked by Byron York of National Review if he bought that theory, McAuliffe said he did. The Unocal deal, which the Clinton administration backed, collapsed in 1998, three years before the invasion of Afghanistan.

That is but one of the Bush conspiracies cited by Democrats. Another conspiracy—that Bush knew the 9/11 attacks were coming—was broached briefly, then dropped. In 2002, then-Rep. Cynthia McKinney of Georgia embraced it in an interview: "Who else knew, and why did they not warn the innocent people of New York who were needlessly murdered?" McKinney was defeated for reelection in 2002, but won the Democratic nomination to regain her seat last week. Former Vermont governor Howard Dean, while still frontrunner for the Democratic presidential nomination last December, mentioned on the radio what he called "the most interesting theory . . . that [Bush] was warned ahead of time by the Saudis." Dean later said he rejected the theory. So have most Democrats.

More popular among Democrats was the now-debunked theory that the Bush administration gave special treatment to Saudi citizens, including members of bin Laden's family, to fly home from the United States after 9/11 without being investigated and while private planes were grounded. "Why would that have happened?" asked Representative Ted Strickland of Ohio in April. "It is almost beyond belief." The answer came this year from Richard Clarke, the former terrorism adviser at the Clinton and Bush White Houses. He approved the departures after the FBI had interviewed the Saudis to make sure no terrorism suspects were on board.

Still another alleged conspiracy was cited by Democratic representative Jim McDermott of Washington last December. He insisted the capture of Saddam Hussein was timed to help Bush. "There's too much happenstance for it to be just a coincidental thing," he told Seattle radio interviewer Dave Ross. "I don't know that it was definitely planned on this weekend," McDermott said, "but I know they've been in contact with people all along who knew basically where he was. It was just a matter of time before they found him." Other Democrats failed to echo McDermott, but they didn't criticize him either. The congressman later backtracked.

Then there's the Halliburton conspiracy, supposedly engineered by Cheney, the company's former boss. There's no evidence for it, but a number of Democrats have indicated Cheney may have steered a lucrative contract in postwar Iraq to Halliburton. Senator John Edwards, now the vice presidential running mate of Democratic presidential nominee John Kerry, condemned "sweetheart deals for Halliburton" last winter. But McAuliffe has made the most far-reaching charge. He said Bush won't pull out of Iraq because "they don't want to give up Halliburton and the $6 billion of no-bid contracts they've got on oil fields over there."

A related conspiracy theory holds that Bush went to war to seize Iraq's oil. Former senator Max Cleland, who's set to introduce Kerry for his acceptance speech at the Democratic convention this week, was quoted in January to this effect. Kerry, he said, "is the one guy who can call his hand on the hypocrisy of a bunch of people that never went to war, creating a war of choice, not even against the enemy who attacked us, but for oil." Kerry himself has a clever way of insinuating Iraqi oil might have been a factor in the war decision. "No young American in uniform should ever be held hostage to America's dependence on oil in the Middle East," he has repeatedly declared.

Finally, the most serious charge of all: Bush is rolling back democracy as we know it. True, this charge isn't unprecedented. Republicans made it against President Franklin Roosevelt. Now Democrats cite the use of the Patriot Act and the supposedly threatened voting rights of blacks. Democrats initially said the act was allowing federal agents to raid libraries legally, but it turned out no raids had taken place. So their complaint now is largely about what Bush might do under the act. On voting, Kerry told the NAACP on July 15 that one million blacks were "disenfranchised" in 2000. That would mean blacks who filled out their ballots improperly were disenfranchised, a dubious claim. Anyway, Democrats imply Republicans would like to see that happen again. And a group of congressional Democrats has called for United Nations observers on Election Day. Really. Maybe they'd read the claim in the New Republic that the Bush administration is "the least democratic in the modern history of the presidency." And foolishly believed it.

Fred Barnes is executive editor of The Weekly Standard.

Old Benjamin provides a link to a précis of the 9-11 Commission report. See here.

The man described in this story claims to care about animals, but his willingness to endorse (use?) violence in their behalf does them no good. In fact, it alienates many people who would otherwise support the cause of animal welfare and animal liberation. What part of self-defeatingness does he not understand? Even Peter Singer, a consequentialist, believes that violence is unproductive. Defenders of animals are in the right. They have the moral high ground. They should use the most powerful tool of social change ever invented: reason. They should eschew and condemn nonrational means, such as force, coercion, and manipulation.

I hereby call upon all of my animal-respecting and animal-loving friends and colleagues to repudiate violence. Nonviolent civil disobedience is one thing, as Dr Martin Luther King Jr showed, but violence toward either person or property is unacceptable. It is unacceptable for two reasons: first, because it's intrinsically wrong (i.e., wrong in and of itself, whatever its consequences); and second, because it has bad long-term consequences. (Thanks to Dan Gifford for the link.)

To the Editor:

Re "The Right to Bare Arms" (editorial, July 19):

Open carry of handguns has been legal in many states for generations, far longer than concealed carry, which has recently become so popular throughout the nation. Before complaining about such a peaceful and longstanding American tradition, consider the last time in recent memory someone openly carried a handgun on his belt and committed a crime or injured someone. Probably never.

These are the most law-abiding of all gun owners—the folks who take gun ownership and safety the most seriously.

Daniel Schmutter
West Orange, N.J., July 19, 2004

Why do people feel competent (qualified) to expound on subjects that are outside of their field of expertise? This guy, an economist, knows just enough about bicycling to be dangerous. The only way to understand bicycling is to bicycle, preferably at a high level. I suspect he wouldn't know a bicycle if it ran over him. As I explained the other day (see here), Lance Armstrong's act of chasing down a breakaway rider (Filippo Simeoni) had nothing to do with game theory and everything to do with defending the honor and integrity of his fellow bicyclists. Honor and integrity are not economic concepts. (Thanks to Levi Bauer for the link.)

As most of you know, Lance Armstrong, who was born and raised in Plano, Texas, just forty-five miles from my Fort Worth home, won his sixth consecutive Tour de France yesterday. See here. This is an amazing accomplishment, perhaps the greatest athletic achievement of my lifetime. Four other men won five Tours, and only one of them (Miguel Indurain) won them consecutively. I don't rule out someone matching Armstrong's feat, but it may take decades. It's also possible that Armstrong will win again, which will make matching it even more difficult and unlikely.

Just think of all the local bike clubs and bike races throughout the world. A person can dominate at the local level but falter at the regional level. For example, someone could win most of the races in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex but be just another racer statewide. When you put all the local hotshots together, only a few of them will have what it takes to win. The others will have found their level of incompetence. (By the way, the same thing happens in the movement from high school to college to graduate and professional school. The competition becomes increasingly stiff. Law schools are filled with students who excelled in college; but some of them will do poorly compared to others. Law school humbles people.)

Now take all the regional or statewide champions and put them together in a race. Someone will emerge as the best racer in the country. Now put the best racers from each country together in a race that everyone wants to win: the Tour de France. These are the best racers in the world, each motivated to the maximum extent to win. The winner of the Tour can claim to be the best bicyclist in the world. When Lance won his first Tour in 1999, I'm sure he felt that his sporting life was complete. He had reached the pinnacle. Then he won it again. And again. And again. And again. And yet again.

This, my friends, is dominance. One man has stood atop the bicycling world for six consecutive years. How is this possible?

Some people think Armstrong cheats. But he has never tested positive for any banned substance, despite being tested as much as (or more than) any other bicyclist. It's said that Armstrong has a rare physiology that helps him process lactic acid better than others. That may be part of the explanation of his success. I think the best explanation of Armstrong's success is his training and preparation. He is simply willing to suffer more than his rivals. He works all year long to maintain his fitness. He studies the course and trains on the actual stages. He also has a magnificent team, which is essential to individual success.

But all of Lance's rivals have the same opportunity to put in the work and construct a solid team. His training methods are an open secret. As Lance said the other day, the person who works hardest to win the Tour deserves to win the Tour. The most deserving person doesn't always win, of course, which is why we have the concept of a moral victory, but usually he or she does.

Lance's hard work and meticulous preparation may explain his success in the Tour, but that merely pushes the question back a step. What explains his hard work and meticulous preparation? Why is he willing to suffer more than others? I think part of the explanation for that is his background. He grew up fatherless. His mother, Linda, cared for him and supported him in his athletic endeavors. It was the two of them against the world. During these early years, Lance developed a fiery determination to excel, perhaps to prove to the world that he was somebody. His is an uplifting story, an American story. It shows that, through hard work and willpower, with a little help from others, one can achieve anything.

By the way, did I mention that Lance almost died from cancer?

Inventor, n. A person who makes an ingenious arrangement of wheels, levers and springs, and believes it civilization.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

Tuesday morning, I went to Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport to welcome our brave men and women coming home from the war in Iraq. As people were cheering and waving flags, I felt the need to reach for the hand of one of the soldiers. I told him, "Thank you."

His response was, "Thank you so much."

He let my hand go and kept walking. I had to move back from where I was because I started crying. Here is a guy who just risked his life for all of us, and he is thanking me for my presence at the airport. All I had to do that morning was to get up from my comfortable bed, take a shower, eat a hot breakfast and drive to the airport. I don't even want to think all he has gone through in these past months.

I did not get his name, but I think it is better that way. His "thank you" represents the spirit of all our men and women in uniform: sincere, unpretentious, beautiful and giving.

Thank you again, soldier. I consider it my duty to be there to welcome you home.

Raul B. Reyes, Colleyville

History: Lance's Sixth Victory!

"I believe that the man who works the hardest is the man who deserves to win." Lance Armstrong's philosophy seems like a simple notion. There are many riders who sacrifice years of their lives with the hope that one day they might participate in the Tour de France. But never before has anyone achieved what the American has this year.

The history of the Tour is filled with tales of toil, but Sunday July 25 will be remembered as the day that Armstrong became the first rider to win the race six times.

Lance's cycling career is filled with highlights which have been attained because of his commitment to the sport he loves. He was not interested in winning the 20th stage of the 91st edition of the Tour, but he did want his US Postal team to lead the peloton into Paris. Once that was achieved, he followed the wheels of other riders and patiently waited for the sprinters to fight it out for line honors. Lance rolled across the line 19 seconds after the stage winner, Tom Boonen.

The only prize yet to be determined in the 2004 race was the green jersey. Robbie McEwen just missed out on a third victory on the Champs Elysees, but his fourth place was good enough for him to earn his success in the points classification. He is the most consistent sprinter in the race, a first-class champion, but the day belongs to another. Armstrong may have lost some of his advantage over Andreas Kloden in the final sprint but it matters little, for the American achieved the goal no one else ever has.

"If I make it [to the finish in Paris] in yellow," is what Lance nominated as 'The Moment' of the 2004 race after his fifth solo stage win this year. In the post-time trial press conference he repeated the words he's stated at the start of the race in Liege three weeks ago. "If I can climb the top step and make history, that will be the moment that I care for."

There was never any doubt that he would make it. Nothing, it seems, can stop him from achieving his ambitions. Cancer attacked Armstrong's body but he fought the illness with vigor and, at the end of 1998, returned to the pro peloton with a new team and a different attitude. Most people in the world now know the story of his recovery. Lance has become the most complete stage race rider of the current generation.

Lance now gets to cherish the moment that he works for 12 months of the year. When asked what the highlights of his Tours de France were, he remembered the moments which mattered most to him for each year he's won.

In 1999, the prologue victory was special because he acquired his first yellow jersey. The next year the day to Hautacam was special because he had demonstrated that he could still win when riders like the two former champions, Jan Ullrich and Marco Pantani, were present. In 2001, the day to L'Alpe d'Huez was special. Nothing stood out from his fourth overall success—"No highlights that I care to remember." Last year his only stage victory, at Luz Ardiden won't be forgotten.

There was a pause before Lance realized that the magic moment of this year's race will be when he accepts the final yellow jersey. Once Armstrong had stated that, however, he expanded on why the day in Paris will be the biggest highlight. The final day is more significant than being the only rider to ever win four successive mountain stages in the Tour; it's more inspiring than stamping his authority on the lead by finishing over a minute ahead of his rivals in the final time trial; and more impressive than surviving the first phase of the 2004 event which was raced in pouring rain, over cobbled roads, and included a multitude of accidents all of which Armstrong escaped.

It's a historic day for the sport of cycling.

The victory is a confirmation of Lance's rise and rise in this sport.

Armstrong's first time trial success was at the start of the 1999 Tour. And his premier success in a mountain stage came in stage nine the same year ahead of the eventual runner-up in 1999, Alex Zulle. Since then numerous riders have talked up their chances of beating Lance, but none have succeeded. No matter how strong his rivals are, the Texan has always been at least a step ahead.

Jan Ullrich understands what it takes to win the Tour, but since the reign of Armstrong began he has had to settle for second place in each of the three races he contested between 2000 to 2003. This year fourth is all the German challenger could conjure. Jan's runner-up position has been inherited by his domestique, Andreas Kloden. The T-Mobile duo are a formidable pair. They have helped their squad win the team classification, but it's a far cry from what was expected at the start in Liege. What should have been a big duel through to the finish was effectively over after the first mountain stage, the only one Armstrong didn't win.

Armstrong was once a rider who was considered a star but little more than a potential stage winner. Now [he has] eclipsed the efforts of the greatest riders in the biggest race. Jacques Anquetil, Eddy Merckx, Bernard Hinault, and Miguel Indurain all worked hard. Each of the five-time champions tried but failed to claim a sixth title.

After the time trial of stage 19, one journalist wanted to know what is special about what he's accomplished. "We're going to have a great meal, maybe a little wine and reflect on six Tours," said the Texan. "If you come and you don't prepare and you're not motivated and you don't win, you don't get to have those highlights.

"When it's pouring rain and you have to go and ride six hours in the mountains, there's not fun in doing that. There's no one cheering—or booing—on the side of the road, but that's what makes the difference. And that's what allows for nights like tonight.

Lance's impact on cycling is now even more complete. Beyond the fact that he won a world title in his first year as a pro, or his tribute stage victory to Fabio Casartelli in the 1995 Tour, or the numerous events which have since unfolded, Lance will be remembered as the first to win the race six times. He is a cancer survivor and an inspiration to many. He suffers the criticism of others and thrives on the motivation that offers. He is insecure yet strong enough to respond. He is a man who rides a bike for his job. And he just happens to love the work he does.

Here is a page from the website of a veal producer. Notice the language that suggests that the farming techniques are for the calves' benefit. In fact, nothing is done for the calves' benefit. Every aspect of veal production is profit-driven. The calf is a living flesh-making machine. It's enough to make a person cry. By the way, there's another side to the story. See here and here.

Have you heard the expression "person of interest"? It must be new, because I never heard it in law school or in my law practice. Police officers, for example, say that so-and-so is a "person of interest." But don't we have perfectly good terms to describe such people? If the person in question is suspected of committing the crime, he or she is a suspect. If the person is thought to have information bearing on the crime, he or she is a witness. Has the word "suspect" come to incorporate a presumption of guilt, such that law-enforcement officials shy away from using it? When you hear the word "suspect," do you think "culprit"? I don't.

By the way, the presumption of innocence is a legal fiction. It reflects our legal system's judgment that, of the two errors that might be committed in a criminal trial, one of them—an innocent person being convicted—is much more serious than the other (a guilty person being acquitted). It's often said, for example, that it's better that ten guilty persons go free than that one innocent person be convicted and punished.

But just because lawyers pretend that people are innocent until an authoritative verdict is rendered doesn't mean that everyone, in all contexts, must. I can evaluate the evidence in a case just as any juror can. Each of us, as citizens, is entitled to form a judgment of guilt or innocence based on the available evidence. I sometimes hear lawyers chastise journalists, for example, for making judgments about their clients' guilt (or lack thereof). They say, "My client is presumed innocent." That's true, but only in court. The rest of us are free to use any standard we please. In my judgment, O. J. Simpson is a murderer. That he was acquitted of the charge in formal court proceedings doesn't alter that judgment.

When scientific concepts trespass on nonscientific domains, it's called scientism. When legal concepts and standards trespass on nonlegal domains, it's called legalism. Law is a specialized, autonomous institution, with its own concepts and standards. It has no business telling the rest of us how or what to think.

To the Editor:

Re "Mr. Berger's Incredible Misadventure" (editorial, July 23):

The point is that Samuel R. Berger removed secret documents from the National Archives. The point is that Mr. Berger is not an airhead—after all, he was national security adviser to President Bill Clinton. After 9/11, more than ever we need to know the truth rather than playing games.

Instead of your light dismissal of this episode as a misadventure, I would have expected something more in line with the seriousness of what really occurred. The stakes are too high to ignore the reality.

José C. Diaz
Miami, July 23, 2004

Kenneth Minogue is Emeritus Professor of Political Science at the London School of Economics. I recently read his entry on conservatism in The Encyclopedia of Philosophy. It's one of the best things I've ever read on conservatism, and believe me, I've read some terrific things (including essays by philosophers Roger Scruton and John Kekes). This led me to seek out other works by Minogue. Here is his recent essay "Fundamentalism Isn't the Problem," from The New Criterion. I read it this afternoon after writing the post entitled "Liberalism's Dogmatic Slumber." I'm pleased that I arrived at some of the same conclusions as Minogue. Enjoy!

Perhaps philosophers tend to regard the relation between mind and world as their primary subject because of a professional conceit. They like to imagine that through them Man himself is coming to understand his place in the world.

(Charles Larmore, "Lifting the Veil," review of Lectures on the History of Moral Philosophy, by John Rawls, edited by Barbara Herman, The New Republic: A Journal of Politics and the Arts 224 [5 February 2001]: 32-7, at 32)

A reader informs me (I take his word for it) that Andrew Sullivan just endorsed John Kerry for president. I predicted it almost six months ago. See here and here. The thing you must remember is that Sullivan is first and foremost a homosexual. He is a homosexual before he is a Catholic. He is a homosexual before he is an Englishman. He is a homosexual before he is a conservative. Actually, I've never thought Sullivan is a conservative. No conservative can endorse homosexual "marriage." Marriage—the union of a man and a woman—is the bedrock institution of civilization. Sullivan is too confused to be taken seriously, which is why I no longer read his blog or anything else he writes.

Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) credited David Hume (1711-1776) with awakening him from his "dogmatic slumber." Today, Kant is represented by the political Left, who, in spite of the attacks of 11 September 2001, do not appreciate the changed world in which we live. They speak as if they do, but their actions belie it.

It's often said that the attacks of 9-11 "changed things." What they changed, or should have changed, is our understanding of the world. Conservatives, to their credit, have been awakened. Liberals and other leftists, to their discredit, have not.

Liberals live in a world of nation-states and rational agents. They believe that conflict is essentially national in nature and that negotiation is always possible. War should be a last resort. But the terrorists we face are not nationalists; their ideology transcends nations. They subscribe to a religion that views nations as temporary and contingent arrangements, to be dispensed with in due course. Nor are these terrorists rational, by Western standards. Most people fear death sufficiently to be motivated to give up something important to avoid it. Radical Muslims don't fear death. They welcome it. They care about only one thing: destroying the West.

I pray (figuratively speaking) that liberals awaken from their dogmatic slumber before it's too late. We need to come together as one against this new and unfamiliar enemy: an enemy who doesn't think like us, who subscribes to radically different values, and who defies nationalistic logic. The old rules of war don't apply anymore, as the 9-11 Commission noted; and anyone who thinks they do is living in the past. This is ironic, when you think about it, because liberals and other leftists generally live in the future. They believe their egalitarian, conflict-free utopia is just around the corner, if only they work hard enough to bring it about. It's conservatives who grasp the changed world and are taking steps to respond to it.

Steve Headley continues his hard-hitting (but fair) blogging. See here for a post about the 9-11 Commission report.

Tomb, n. The House of Indifference. Tombs are now by common consent invested with a certain sanctity, but when they have been long tenanted it is considered no sin to break them open and rifle them, the famous Egyptologist, Dr. Huggyns, explaining that a tomb may be innocently "glened" as soon as its occupant is done "smellynge," the soul being then all exhaled. This reasonable view is now generally accepted by archæologists, whereby the noble science of Curiosity has been greatly dignified.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

Old Benjamin explains how to avoid being nickel-and-dimed by the telephone company.

Billy Beck informed me that H. L. Mencken, like all right-thinking people, despised the telephone. Mencken wrote:

The telephone, I believe, is the greatest boon to bores ever invented. It has set their ancient art upon a new level of efficiency and enabled them to penetrate the last strongholds of privacy. All the devices that have been put into service against them have failed. I point, for example, to that of having a private telephone number, not listed in the book. Obviously, there is nothing here to daunt bores of authentic gifts. Obtaining private telephone numbers is of the elemental essence of their craft. Thus the poor victim of their professional passion is beset quite as much as if he had his telephone number limned upon the sky in smoke. But meanwhile his friends forget it at critical moments and he misses much pleasant gossip and many an opportunity for vinous relaxation. (H. L. Mencken, "The Boons of Civilization," The American Mercury [January 1931]: 33-5)

The man was ahead of his time. By the way, here is another link. (Thanks for the note, Billy.)

I still get e-mail from people who say, in response to my posts, that meat-eating is allowed by their religion. This puzzles me. Do you disobey your god's commands (or violate your god's laws) by forswearing meat? Is vegetarianism prohibited by your religion? Will you go to hell if you decide to do better by animals than you have to? Surely the answer to these questions is "No."

Let's make a typology of actions. Every action is either permissible or impermissible. Every permissible action is either required or not required. So there are three categories of action:

1. The required (i.e., the obligatory or mandatory).
2. The impermissible (i.e., the prohibited or forbidden).
3. The permissible but not required (i.e., the discretionary or optional).

No religion, to my knowledge, requires meat-eating, although some religions forbid the eating of certain meats. So meat-eating is discretionary. The decision whether to eat meat must be based on nonreligious grounds, such as what effect it has on overall happiness or the amount of misery in the world.

Suppose you enjoy the taste of meat. You might reason that, since you enjoy it and it's not prohibited by your religion, there is nothing wrong with eating it. But the meat you eat was produced, in all likelihood, in atrocious conditions. The animals whose flesh you consume were made to suffer terribly in its production. Do you think your god is indifferent to this suffering? Wouldn't a rational god expect his or her subjects to refrain from inflicting suffering on his or her creatures, especially if the only reason for doing so is taste? Don't say that animals lack souls. That's irrelevant. The question is not whether animals have souls but whether they can suffer, and surely they can. Suffering does not require ensoulment.

Please don't use your religious beliefs to rationalize self-interested behavior. That your religion doesn't forbid meat-eating doesn't imply that you should do it, all things considered, much less that you should do it no matter how the meat was produced. You have a responsibility to your god (I assume) to act wisely and benevolently. If you're Christian, ask yourself whether Jesus would look kindly on factory farms and those who support them. I tend to believe that if there is a god, he or she will consign meat-eaters to hell, for they disrespect divine creation. But that's a subject for another post.

Can we all sit down and take a deep breath? Judging from the letters to The New York Times and comments I've heard on television, many people think the 9-11 Commission is a lawmaking body. It's not. It's a commission, charged with (1) ascertaining facts and (2) making recommendations. It did its job. Now we need to reflect on what it found and decide whether to enact its recommendations. This is the responsibility of lawmakers, including the president. These are the people we elect to make our laws. We did not elect the 9-11 commissioners.

To the Editor:

The 9/11 commission emphasized the importance of intelligence and of military measures in combating terrorism (front page, July 23). But it did not address sufficiently the root causes of terrorism.

These include the United States' continued support for repressive, feudalistic and corrupt Middle East regimes that have enriched themselves at the expense of their citizens; American support for Israel's repression of the Palestinians in the occupied territories, which angers millions of Muslims and Arabs; and the American invasion of Iraq, which is perceived by many in the Middle East as brutal and unjustified.

The effectiveness of intelligence and military measures in combating terrorism will be a function of our success in addressing these root causes.

Shaw J. Dallal
New Hartford, N.Y., July 23, 2004
The writer is an adjunct professor of Middle East studies at the Maxwell School, Syracuse University.

Ally Eskin weighs in on makeup. See here. I can't stand makeup and wouldn't date a woman who wears it. Yuck! Come to think of it, that's probably why women wear it. (It also explains why I'm single.)

A major reason the media, in news reports, attend to acts of violence and ignore the reasons for them is that coverage of such acts is relatively inexpensive, and the media, including their news divisions, are driven by commercial interests. Local "news" in particular, where much more understanding of disaffected groups and the evaluation of their possible methods of pursuing their goals would be possible and suitable, is at present composed of the cheapest possible footage from the police station and the fire house, together with lengthy fillers on the weather and sports. All of television programming is essentially a means to bring an audience to a station's commercials, but the local "news" is a particularly egregious example of how television fails to meet its responsibilities. There can be no doubt that democracy requires an informed citizenry and that it is the responsibility of the press, including those who produce the news on television and radio as well as in newspapers, to provide the information citizens need. The only "news" many citizens encounter is the local television news, yet it leaves them dangerously and irresponsibly misinformed.

(Virginia Held, "The Media and Political Violence," The Journal of Ethics: An International Philosophical Review 1 [1997]: 187-202, at 195 [italics in original; footnotes omitted])

Does anyone else think that we're being gouged by telephone companies? I have a regular telephone, not a cellphone. I get billed by my long-distance company (Working Assets) every other month. This month's bill, which I just received, contains $78.22 in calls (all to my mother in Michigan). After taxes and fees were added, it came to $100.40. That's twenty-two percent for taxes and fees! I don't even know what they're for. My bill lists "Instate Connection Fee" ($1.95), "FCC Universal Service Fee" ($6.96), "Regulatory Charges Recovery Fee" ($.51), "Federal Tax" ($2.72), "State Tax" ($5.75), "Texas Universal Service Fund" ($3.15), and "Reimbursement to WALD for Telecom Fund Fee" ($1.14).

The telephone is an instrument of the devil. I wouldn't even have one if I didn't need telephone service for my DSL Internet connection. I went without a telephone for several years while in law and graduate school. The only calls I make are to my mother in Michigan. I keep the telephone's ringer turned off and the answering-machine recorder on mute. That means I never hear anything. If I see a red numeral on the answering machine when I pass by, I know someone left a message. The idea of having a cellphone repulses me. It would mean that anyone, anywhere, could disrupt what I'm doing at any time, for any reason, wherever I am or whatever I'm doing. Sorry; that sounds like slavery to me.

I was quite amused by Ira J. Hadnot's column about dogs going to heaven ("A dog is gone—will we meet again?" Religion, June 26).

I am sure it brought much comfort to ardent dog lovers. However, the only creation of God that has an eternal soul is mankind. Genesis 1:26 says, "And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness." Genesis 2:7 says, "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul."

Dogs and other animals were just spoken into existence.

Dogs lack the intelligence of mankind and therefore are not capable of understanding what mankind has to do in order to go to heaven. Mankind has a choice. He can accept Jesus as his personal savior and go to heaven or reject him and go to hell. Dogs don't have the ability to make that choice.

Isn't it just like a loving God to make dogs for humans to love and enjoy? We have a great God.

Ann L. Wilson, Garland

Jonathan Todd Laba, "If You Can't Stand the Heat, Get Out of the Drug Business: Thermal Imagers, Emerging Technologies, and the Fourth Amendment," California Law Review 84 (October 1996): 1437.

Matthew C. Houchens, "Killer Party: Proposing Civil Liability for Social Hosts Who Serve Alcohol to Minors," John Marshall Law Review 30 (fall 1996): 245.

Eric T. Olson, "Was I Ever a Fetus?" Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 57 (March 1997): 95.

"Gambling On-Line: For a Hundred Dollars, I Bet You Government Regulation Will Not Stop the Newest Form of Gambling," University of Dayton Law Review 22 (fall 1996): 163.

Michelle Rabouin, "Lyin' T(*)gers, and 'Cares,' Oh My: The Case for Feminist Integration of Business Ethics," Journal of Business Ethics 16 (February 1997): 247.

Male, n. A member of the unconsidered, or negligible sex. The male of the human race is commonly known (to the female) as Mere Man. The genus has two varieties: good providers and bad providers.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

See here for my post on factory farming. If you don't like my posts on animals, don't click! If you do click, you thereby assume the risk of being offended, annoyed, frustrated, or angered. I'm tired of being blamed for what I write. Take responsibility for your web surfing.

A fascinating thing happened during today's Tour de France stage. In case you haven't been following the Tour, Texan Lance Armstrong dominated his rivals in the Pyrenees and Alps and has a comfortable overall lead of over four minutes with just two stages remaining. If he wins, and it's a foregone conclusion that he will, he will be the first person to win the Tour six times—and to make it even more impressive, they're consecutive. Four men (Jacques Anquetil, Eddy Merckx, Bernard Hinault, and Miguel Indurain) have won the Tour five times, and only one of them (Indurain) won them consecutively.

Here's what happened today. Early in the 103-mile stage, a small group of riders rode away from the peloton (main pack). This is called a breakaway. Occasionally the breakaway succeeds, but most often it fails. The greater size of the peloton allows it to "reel in" breakaway riders, since there are more riders to share the work at the front. It helps if someone in the peloton wants to win a sprint. His team will do most of the work to reel in the breakaway rider(s).

When the six-man breakaway was one minute ahead of the peloton and pulling away, Italian rider Filippo Simeoni tried to ride across to them. Immediately, he was joined by Armstrong, the wearer of the yellow jersey (maillot jaune). Simeoni and Armstrong reached the breakaway in short order and began to work, extending its lead over the peloton to two minutes. Then the breakaway riders realized how pointless it was to continue. Armstrong's rivals in the peloton, such as Ivan Basso and Jan Ullrich, would almost certainly chase him down, thus dooming the breakaway.

Something had to give. The breakaway riders pleaded with Armstrong to go back to the peloton (by "sitting up" and waiting, not by turning back). Armstrong pointed to Simeoni as the culprit. In effect, Armstrong said that he would go back to the peloton only if Simeoni did. This, needless to say, put tremendous pressure on Simeoni. If he continued with the breakaway, he would earn the wrath of the six riders whose fortunes he would doom. Simeoni decided to go back, and Armstrong went with him. The breakaway, by the way, succeeded, finishing more than ten minutes ahead of the peloton. (It didn't matter to Armstrong, since all six breakaway riders were well behind in the standings.)

Why would Armstrong do this? He did it, he said, because Simeoni had made disparaging and inculpatory remarks over a period of years about his fellow bicyclists. Simeoni accused them of things like taking performance-enhancing drugs. It may have been personal, too, since Simeoni is suing Armstrong for calling him a liar. But I don't think it was entirely personal.

Armstrong later said that when he got back to the peloton, he was congratulated by several riders. Some of them said, simply, "Chapeau." They evidently felt that Armstrong had defended them and their sport from a traitor in their midst. I'm sure some riders didn't like what Armstrong did, but you're not likely to get unanimity about any topic from the peloton. Armstrong also delivered a powerful message: If you attack the sport or its participants, I will personally prevent you from doing well.

My own view is that Armstrong did right. He defended the honor and integrity of his fellow bicyclists—and the sport he loves. Armstrong knows that as the dominant bicyclist in the Tour, he has both power and responsibility. Today he exercised his power in what I consider a responsible and commendable way. This incident will become part of bicycling lore and will add to Armstrong's reputation as a patron of bicycling.

Incidentally, Armstrong's situation vis-à-vis that of the peloton is analogous to that of the United States vis-à-vis the rest of the world. With power comes responsibility. The United States is the most powerful nation in the world. As such, it must take the initiative against radical Muslims who would destroy the West. It must do this even if those it protects don't appreciate it. I suspect the French public will condemn Armstrong's actions just as, and for the same reason that, it condemns the United States (and its Texan president) in its war against terrorists. In both cases, we should ignore them. They are as children. They must be patronized.

People love to make fun of Texas and Texans. It's envy. Texans know it and disregard it. I would put Texas up against any other state (or nation) in a greatness-per-capita competition, where greatness is greatness in any human endeavor, from art to science to sport. Here is a website devoted to famous Texans. Note that it does not include Lance Armstrong, who was born and raised in Plano. I assume this injustice will be rectified soon, when Armstrong becomes the first person to win the greatest bicycle race in the world (the Tour de France) six times.

Dr Bill Vallicella continues his perspicuous and perspicacious blogging from his desert abode (perhaps it's an adobe as well). I hope you're taking advantage of him. If you read his blog long enough, you'll have yourself a fine philosophical education. Free.

Snow White committed suicide on June 7, 1954, apparently by dipping an apple into a solution of potassium cyanide and then taking several juicy bites off it. No prince revived her. The inquest was brief, and silence fell quickly.

Snow White was Alan Turing, a logician and onetime spy, who all but won the Second World War for England by breaking the German naval code. But that time was gone, and Turing (no umlaut, please!) had worn out his welcome. Right then, he was just an annoyance.

(Ermanno Bencivenga, Logic and Other Nonsense: The Case of Anselm and His God [Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993], 91 [footnote omitted])

Did anyone see Katie Couric's report about voting? I don't watch her show, but she did a report that appeared on one of the cable networks I watch (perhaps MSNBC). Many of the people Couric interviewed, including scholars, expressed dismay that some people's votes won't "matter" this fall because they live in states that are either overwhelmingly Democrat or overwhelmingly Republican. Take my state, for example. Texas will go for President Bush. You know it; I know it; we all know it. It's a moral certainty.

Is this unfair to a Texas Democrat? The idea is ludicrous. It could be argued that it's unfair for the vote of a person in a lightly populated state (such as Connecticut or Wyoming) to count the same as the vote of a person in a heavily populated state (such as New York or Texas), but there's no unfairness in living in a state where one is in a partisan minority. That's merely bad luck (or bad decision-making, since you're free to move to a state where many others share your values).

To hear the people on Couric's program speak, you would think they have a right to a close election in their state so that their vote will "make a difference." I have news for them. Their vote will make no difference even in a "swing state" such as Pennsylvania or Ohio. Look back over the voting results in presidential elections. Has there ever been a state in which the winner won by one vote, or in which there was a tie? I haven't checked, but I suspect the answer is no. The chance of your vote—your one vote, your only vote—making a difference in the outcome of your state's presidential election may not be zero, but it's close.

This is not an argument against voting. I vote. Always have. Will. But I don't delude myself into thinking that it will affect the outcome. That would be evidence of mental illness. My vote has virtually no chance of affecting the outcome of the presidential election in my state. It has the same chance as—maybe less of a chance than—my winning the Texas lottery jackpot. I vote for Kantian reasons, not instrumental reasons. I vote out of civic obligation. I vote to manifest my citizenship, express my preferences and values, and participate in the political process.

By the way, I vote for the same reason I don't eat meat. In both cases, I cannot universalize the alternative (not voting, eating meat).

To the Editor:

Yes, abortion is legal. Women who have abortions and doctors who perform them are no longer breaking the law in most cases.

But the fact that a woman who has an abortion no longer faces the possibility of spending time in jail does not make choosing an abortion a "right," up there with life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

We feminists sometimes go too far in our desire to take charge of our lives. In depenalizing abortion, perhaps we have dehumanized ourselves.

Mary Suzanne Glespen
Paris, July 22, 2004

To the Editor:

Barbara Ehrenreich's defense of abortion begs the question. Abortion is legal, but so was racism under apartheid and killing Jews under the Nazis. The question is whether abortion is good or evil, and the growing consensus in America is that despite its standing under the law, abortion is a repulsive evil, especially partial-birth abortion.

John J. Jones
Hicksville, N.Y., July 22, 2004

If you have a blog and want the titles of your posts to read like book titles or newspaper headlines, you need to know which words to capitalize. I've compiled lists. I did it for myself, but you may find the lists useful. Here, in alphabetical order, are words that should be capitalized:

About
After
All
Almost
Always
Because
Before
Between
Both
Down
Every
If
It
Its
Like
More
Most
No
Not
Other
Out
Than
That
Their
Them
There
Through
Toward
What
Who

Here, in alphabetical order, are words that should not be capitalized:

a
an
and
as
at
but
by
for
from
in
into
nor
of
on
or
over
per
the
to
upon
vs.
with

Here are some rules:

• Capitalize the first and last words of a title, even if they would ordinarily not be capitalized.
• Capitalize nouns, pronouns, adjectives, adverbs, verbs, and subordinating conjunctions (e.g., "if," "because").
• Capitalize all words of five or more letters.
• Do not capitalize prepositions or the "to" in infinitives.

These lists were compiled (in part by brute force) from Bryan A. Garner, A Dictionary of Modern American Usage (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998), 108, and The Chicago Manual of Style, 14th ed. (Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1993), § 7.127. The only discrepancy between the two works is that Garner does not capitalize "as" while The Chicago Manual of Style does. I follow Garner. You may want to print this post and hang it near your computer. You're welcome.

White, adj. and n. Black.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

I love sports as much as the next person (probably much more), but certain sports expressions are tiresome. The other day I posted a letter to the editor of The New York Times in which the writer wrote, "I wish that more prominent black Americans, as well as white, would step up to the plate and speak out about the destructiveness of hip-hop and rap music, one of the primary reasons so many of our black children and young adults look, act and sound like heathens, poor and middle class alike."

The cliché of stepping up to the plate is bad enough, but the writer compounds the problem by mixing metaphors. One steps up to the plate in baseball or softball—to hit. One does not step up to the plate to speak, at least if one wants to remain in the game. Perhaps the writer should have used a different metaphor: of stepping up to the mike (microphone).

Let's retire (sorry) "low blow," "taking it a day at a time," "hitting a home run," "putting a person against the ropes," "power play," doing something "at the buzzer," "throwing a bomb," "choking," and "neck and neck." (If I received a nickel for every use of "horse race" in connection with this year's presidential election, I'd be a rich man.) I'm sure you can add to the list.

Armstrong Will Not Return to Tour de France, Official Says

By SAMUEL ABT

LE GRAND BORNAND, France, July 22—A high-ranking official among the organizers of the Tour de France said this is the last time Lance Armstrong will compete in the race.

If he wins for a record sixth consecutive year Sunday, as seems certain, Armstrong will not return next year, the official said, but will focus instead on at least one of the two other big Tours, the Giro d'Italia in May and the Vuelta a España in September, and several one-day classics.

Armstrong, the defending champion, had already informed the Tour organizers of his plan, said the official, who did not want to be identified.

That assertion was denied Thursday by Bill Stapleton, Armstrong's agent and the chief executive of Tailwind Sports, which owns Armstrong's Postal Service team.

"We haven't even discussed that yet," Stapleton said in a phone interview before the 17th stage Thursday. "No decisions have been made.

"It would be definitely incorrect to say he won't be back next year."

Dan Osipow, communications and events director for Tailwind, also denied the report.

"It's way too early now to speculate on what Lance's schedule will be next year," he said in a phone interview Thursday. "A lot depends on the final result in this race."

Osipow added that, under the new sponsorship by Discovery Channel next year, the team was obligated to ride in the Tour de France, although he was unsure whether Armstrong was.

Johan Bruyneel, the sports director of the Postal Service team, said Thursday: "He's going to race, but we didn't decide on a program. A lot of things can change, a lot of things can happen."

Armstrong was not available for comment. He has often said that he will compete for at least another year.

Explaining why he said Armstrong, 32, will not ride in the Tour again, the official said Armstrong saw no point in going for a seventh victory, especially out of respect for the four other riders who have won five times.

Armstrong wants to set a record for Tour victories, the official said, but he does not want to appear to be rubbing in any superiority over the feats of Jacques Anquetil, Eddy Merckx, Bernard Hinault and Miguel Indurain.

The official added that Armstrong also wants the opportunity to participate in the Pro Tour, a reorganized calendar of major races that will begin next year.

By skipping the Tour and his arduous preparation for it, the official said, Armstrong will be able to compete in many races that do not fit into his schedule now.

Chris Matthews of MSNBC's Hardball keeps asking his guests whether "we went to war with the wrong country." He says Iran had more terrorist connections than Iraq. It may appear that Matthews supports war with Iran, but he doesn't. He opposed the war in Iraq. He thinks only an imminent threat to Americans in America can justify war. Matthews appears to be arguing as follows:

1. If war in Iraq was justified, then war in Iran was justified.
2. War in Iran was not justified.
Therefore,
3. War in Iraq was not justified.

This is an instance of modus tollens ("denying mode"), which is a valid (i.e., truth-preserving) argument form. Now consider this argument, which has the same first premise:

1. If war in Iraq was justified, then war in Iran was justified.
2. War in Iraq was justified.
Therefore,
3. War in Iran was justified.

This is an instance of modus ponens ("affirming mode"), which is also a valid argument form.

Here's another way to look at it. Matthews is asserting, correctly, that the following propositions are inconsistent:

1. If war in Iraq was justified, then war in Iran was justified. (This is premise 1 of Matthews's argument.)
2. War in Iran was not justified. (This is premise 2 of Matthews's argument.)
3. War in Iraq was justified. (This is the negation of the conclusion of Matthews's argument.)

At least one of these propositions is false (that's what it means to say that they're inconsistent), and every rational person must reject at least one of them. Matthews thinks 3 is the false one, and therefore rejects it. But someone else could say that 2 is the false one, and therefore reject it. In other words, someone could say that war in Iran was (and perhaps still is) justified. That we haven't gone to war with Iran doesn't mean we won't or that it would be wrong if we did. Nations that harbor or assist terrorists are on notice that if they continue to do so, they risk being invaded and disarmed.

Steve Rugg has just posted a thoughtful, interesting, and (I hope he's not offended) philosophical essay on love and commitment. See here. Steve's blog is well worth your time. It's certainly on my list of regular reads.

Some posters on my Ethics of War blog appear to think that sovereignty is absolute, i.e., that nothing could possibly justify intervention in another nation's affairs. This is as indefensible as any other absolutist position, such as extreme pacifism and anarchism. Nor should it be thought that sovereignty is meaningless unless it is absolute. Sovereignty is the analogue of personal autonomy. But of course personal autonomy is not absolute. My right to govern myself has limits. I may not exercise my autonomy to harm or threaten harm to others, for example.

So the question is not whether Iraq was a sovereign nation at the time coalition forces intervened. It's what the scope and limits of sovereignty are and whether the limits were exceeded in this case. I submit that sovereignty does not include the right to harm one's citizens, as Saddam Hussein had a long record of doing and gave every reason to believe would continue to do unless prevented by force from doing so. It wasn't just Saddam, either. His sons, Uday and Qusay, had been groomed to carry on his tyrannical, genocidal ways. The coalition led by the United States did right in taking these moral monsters down. This act of liberation, controversial though it may be today, will go down in history as a great blow for freedom, and President Bush will be viewed as a visionary leader.

Cannon, n. An instrument employed in the rectification of national boundaries.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

To the Editor:

Re "Desperadoes" (editorial, July 21):

The ejection of Linda Ronstadt from a Las Vegas hotel for the expression of her political views at the end of her concert performance is yet another example of how far our freedoms have been eroded since 9/11. More and more, it seems that a small but growing segment of the populace believes that freedom of speech applies only if you agree with the administration. To hold a different view is somehow anti-American.

How sad, but also how deeply disturbing this should be for all Americans.

T. A. Masters
Victoria, Tex., July 21, 2004

To the Editor:

You correctly note that Linda Ronstadt and her audience both had the right to express their opinions. But you ignore the rights of the Aladdin Hotel and its management, who should be allowed to control their own venue and to serve their customers as they wish.

If the government had forced the ejection, you could say Ms. Ronstadt's rights were infringed. As it is, you're only crying wolf.

Matthew Rudary
Ann Arbor, Mich., July 21, 2004

To the Editor:

What is the purpose of art? Great art, in addition to providing enjoyment, should express the opinion of the free-thinking artist and challenge the perspective of an audience.

Linda Ronstadt had every right to interject her stance on Michael Moore into her art (in this case, music). The audience that tried to punish Ms. Ronstadt for creating music in the fashion befitting her opinion selfishly disregarded her fundamental right as an artist.

The Aladdin Hotel, by succumbing to the outraged crowd and asking Ms. Ronstadt to leave, indirectly admitted that an artist should be nothing but a slave who caters to the whims of a narrow-minded audience.

You don't have to agree with art, but it never hurts to consider its legitimacy as an opinion.

Katie L. Noe
Lexington, Ky., July 21, 2004

To the Editor:

Linda Ronstadt did not threaten only to sing during her Aladdin Hotel concert (editorial, July 21). Instead, she issued partisan comments that many in her audience found upsetting and unrelated to her music. You suggested that Ms. Ronstadt, in her paean to Michael Moore, was exercising the same rights as everyone else. Yes, she had those rights. She exercised them. She then faced the consequences. That's what can happen in a free market, and in a free society.

Mark A. Kellner
Rockville, Md., July 21, 2004

If you eat meat purchased from a grocery store, you are supporting an institution—factory farming—that inflicts terrible deprivation and suffering (not to mention death) on animals. The suffering is your doing, even though you do not personally inflict it and even though you never experience it. You are paying people to inflict the suffering, which, in all likelihood, you could not and would not do yourself. I assume that you believe suffering to be bad (and therefore in need of justification), and I assume that your only reason for eating meat is that you like the taste. So why do you eat meat? It's immoral (wrong) by your own standards.

One of my teachers at The University of Arizona, Ronald D. Milo, who is now retired, published a wonderful book twenty years ago: Immorality (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984). His aim in the book is to describe the varieties (or sources) of immorality. He says there are six. Three of them involve belief, by the agent, that his or her action is wrong. In the other three, the agent does not believe that the action is wrong, even though it is. Two of the varieties involve bad preferences (or values); two involve lack of (rational) self-control; and two involve lack of moral concern (i.e., lack of concern for the interests of others). In effect, Ron created a two-by-three diagram of types of immorality. Here are his names for the six types, together with their characteristics:

1. Perverse wickedness. The agent believes (falsely) that the action is right, and acts accordingly; the agent's moral defect is bad preferences (values).

2. Preferential wickedness. The agent believes (correctly) that the action is wrong, but does it anyway because of bad preferences (values).

3. Moral negligence. The agent does not believe that the action is wrong (even though it is); the agent's moral defect is lack of self-control. (Put differently, one fails to prevent one's desires and emotions from obscuring or distorting one's judgment.)

4. Moral weakness. The agent believes (correctly) that the action is wrong, but does it anyway because of lack of self-control. (Put differently, one allows one's desires and emotions to prevent one from acting on one's judgment.)

5. Amorality. The agent does not believe that the action is wrong (even though it is); the agent's moral defect is lack of moral concern. (Put differently, one's lack of moral concern accounts for one's not bothering to make any moral judgment.)

6. Moral indifference. The agent believes (correctly) that the action is wrong, but does it anyway because of lack of moral concern. (Put differently, one's lack of moral concern accounts for one's not acting on one's moral judgment.)

I believe that meat-eaters exhibit all six types of immorality. Here is a brief discussion of each:

1. Perversely wicked meat-eaters believe that meat-eating is morally permissible, or even required, when in fact it is impermissible. This class includes (but is not limited to) those who believe that their god requires or allows meat-eating, those who believe that animals can't (and hence don't) suffer, and those who believe that animals lack interests (i.e., those who believe that animals have no moral status).

2. Preferentially wicked meat-eaters believe, correctly, that meat-eating is morally impermissible, but do it anyway, because they prefer the pursuit of some other desired end to the avoidance of wrongdoing. In other words, they believe that meat-eating is prima facie wrong, but not ultima facie wrong (wrong all things considered). This class includes (but is not limited to) those who believe that meat is essential to health and who assign a moral value to their health. They prefer their health (or the health of their loved ones) to the welfare of the animals whose flesh they eat.

3. Morally negligent meat-eaters allow their desire for animal flesh (or certain emotions) to obscure or distort their judgment. Their tastes prevent them from taking vegetarian arguments seriously, from thinking clearly, from reasoning soundly, from attending to the facts of animal suffering, &c. They are (culpably) ignorant that what they do is in violation of their own moral principles. This class has many members, unfortunately.

4. Morally weak meat-eaters believe, correctly, that they act wrongly, but don't exercise requisite self-control. They fail to make their behavior conform to their moral principles. They succumb to temptation. If you've eaten meat for a long time and decide to give it up for moral reasons, you will be tempted to backslide. It's only natural. If you fail to resist the temptation, you exhibit moral weakness. This class has more members than you might think.

5. Amoral meat-eaters lack moral concern for animals, or for certain animals (those they eat). As a result, they have no moral principles (convictions) pertaining to the act of meat-eating. They don't even bother to consider whether it is right or wrong. They don't see it as a moral issue.

6. Morally indifferent meat-eaters judge, correctly, that meat-eating is wrong, but don't care that it's wrong, and therefore do not act on their judgment. They are insensitive or indifferent to the feelings and interests of animals.

I should point out that Ron Milo does not apply his typology to animals. He does mention animals from time to time, however. If you're interested in ethics, you should acquire and read Ron's book. It's one of the best books I've ever read.

Many states, in prescribing when defensive force is necessary, require that the threat of harm from the aggressor be "imminent." This modification, which also appears in lesser evils statutes . . . , apparently reflects a determination that only imminent harm necessitates a response. But that is not always the case. Suppose A kidnaps and confines D with the announced intention of killing him one week later. D has an opportunity to kill A and escape each morning as A brings him his daily ration. Taken literally, the imminent requirement would prevent D from using deadly force in self-defense until A is standing over him with a knife, but that outcome seems inappropriate. If the concern of the limitation is to exclude threats of harm that are too remote to require a response, the problem is adequately handled by requiring simply that the response be "necessary." The proper inquiry is not the immediacy of the threat but the immediacy of the response necessary in defense. If a threatened harm is such that it cannot be avoided if the intended victim waits until the last moment, the principle of self-defense must permit him to act earlier—as early as is required to defend himself effectively.

(Paul H. Robinson, Criminal Law Defenses, Criminal Practice Series [St. Paul, MN: West Publishing Company, 1984], 2:78 [italics in original; footnotes omitted])

Dr John J. Ray, my polymathic friend Down Under, has some hard-hitting posts (with links) on Michael Moore. See here. Good work, John. It's amazing to me that anyone would take Moore seriously, given his hypocrisy and his demonstrated indifference to truth.

To the Editor:

Re "Values, Values Everywhere," by David Brooks (column, July 17):

I heard John Kerry's stump speech, and I believe that a less partisan interpretation would note its emphasis on specific American values, including the separation of church and state, a reluctance to start avoidable wars, and a desire to solve domestic problems.

On the other side of this debate we have a president who wraps himself in the flag and invokes the name of God in support of policies that seem inconsistent with both American and Christian values.

Paul Lewis
Newton Centre, Mass.
July 18, 2004

People these days are soft. We take things like air conditioning for granted. What did Texans do before air conditioning? Between June and September, it's oppressively hot and humid. It's even worse, I hear, near the Gulf coast. When my air conditioner had to be off for a few hours for repairs, I suffered. I could not wait for it to come back on.

According to Wikipedia (see here), air conditioning wasn't invented until early in the twentieth century. It was probably some time before the typical homeowner had it installed. I grew up in Michigan without air conditioning. The summers weren't long, but there were many nights when it was hard to sleep because of the heat. All you could do was toss and turn. We had fans in every room to keep the air circulating, and we always left our windows open, but it was never enough. I think one reason I loved autumn so much is that it meant the end of fans.

From August 1979, when I left the family home to attend law school, until today, I've had air conditioning. It was essential in Tucson, where, despite the lower humidity, temperatures soared above 110 degrees. So I've had air conditioning for twenty-five of my forty-seven years. I could probably live without it, but it would detract greatly from my existence. To the inventor of air conditioning, thank you.

Here is an editorial opinion from today's New York Times:

Desperadoes

Something went awry at the Aladdin Hotel in Las Vegas last Saturday night. Linda Ronstadt did what she has done at several concerts across the country this summer. She dedicated the song "Desperado"—an encore—to Michael Moore and urged members of the audience to go see his new movie, "Fahrenheit 9/11."

Elsewhere, audiences have reacted to the mention of Mr. Moore by cheering, booing, walking out and sometimes glaring at one another in parking lots. At the Aladdin, a few audience members tore down posters, threw drinks and demanded their money back. According to one person who was present—William Timmins, the Aladdin's president—it was "a very ugly scene." Mr. Timmins promptly made it even uglier. He had Ms. Ronstadt ejected from the premises.

This behavior assumes that Ms. Ronstadt had no right to express a political opinion from the stage. It implies—for some members of the audience at least—that there is a philosophical contract that says an artist must entertain an audience only in the ways that audience sees fit. It argues, in fact, that an artist like Ms. Ronstadt does not have the same rights as everyone else.

Perhaps her praise for Mr. Moore, even at the very end of her show, did ruin the performance for some people. They have a right to voice their disapproval—to express their opinion as Ms. Ronstadt expressed hers and to ask for a refund. But if their intemperate behavior began to worry the management, then they were the ones who should have been thrown out and told never to return, not Ms. Ronstadt, who threatened, after all, only to sing.

There are many issues being conflated. First, just as Ronstadt has a right to express her opinion, so does her audience. If she doesn't want to be booed, she should stop making political statements during musical performances. I doubt that anyone ever boos her singing, however much it deserves to be. Second, whether she was wrongly evicted from the premises depends on the content of her contract with the owner of the premises. If you come into my house and antagonize my guests, I have every legal and moral right to ask you to leave and to evict you forcibly if you don't.

Have we lost all sense of appropriateness, fittingness, and decency? If I go to a dentist, I don't want the dentist to give me a sermon or a policy speech. Just do your job. If I go to see Linda Ronstadt sing, I don't want to hear a soliloquy on war and peace, even if I happen to agree with her. Just do your job. Wouldn't the Times editors howl if the shoe were on the other foot—if, for example, they went to a high-priced concert and heard the performer sing the praises of President Bush, or, God forbid, God? This is selective outrage.

Come to think of it, the Times's position makes sense. The Times long ago lost sight of the line between journalism and advocacy. To the Times, there is no setting in which political discourse or advocacy is inappropriate. Everyone is free at all times and places to bash the president, make a case against war, &c.

Unless women are irrational or an unwanted pregnancy and birth are much less costly to women than the advocates of abortion rights maintain, the principal effect of forbidding abortion, supposing unrealistically that such a prohibition could be enforced, would be to make women more careful about sex—less willing to have sex when not wanting to have a child, more discriminating in the choice of sexual partners and of occasions for sexual intercourse, and more diligent in learning about and properly using effective techniques of contraception—rather than to keep them out of the labor force, reduce their educational opportunities, depress their earnings, discourage them from voting, or otherwise deprive the equality of the sexes of substance and force.

(Richard A. Posner, Overcoming Law [Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 1995], 189-90)

This blogger links to me, so I should reciprocate, even though she's a goddamned liberal.

Eulogy, n. Praise of a person who has either the advantages of wealth and power, or the consideration to be dead.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

Yesterday, as you may have noticed, I posted a New York Times story about PETA on both AnalPhilosopher and Animal Ethics. Someone who is too cowardly to identify him- or herself posted a comment: a quotation from my blog. Some time back, I had written that, "With friends like PETA, animals don't need enemies." Since nothing else was said, I'm left to speculate about the meaning of the comment.

My guess is that the writer thinks I contradicted myself. But how exactly is that? Suppose I believed that PETA did well in exposing cruelty in chicken-processing plants. Would it follow that PETA does well by animals, all things considered and in the long run? Of course not. Even bad organizations can act rightly, just as broken clocks are right twice a day. Even Hitler and Stalin, who were bad to the bone, acted rightly from time to time. Nobody, with the possible exception of Paul Krugman, is omnimalevolent.

What this incident shows, if anything, is PETA's unscrupulousness. PETA's operatives will do anything to achieve its goals. They have little or no respect for persons, property, or privacy. The animal-liberation movement must disavow such tactics. Ultimately, only rational persuasion will benefit animals. PETA resorts to force, coercion, and manipulation to achieve its ends. Certainly no self-respecting philosopher can endorse these methods.

Philosophers care at least as much about how one changes the world as that one changes it. A philosopher would rather not change the world at all than change it by using force, coercion, or manipulation. Philosophers, as such, are deontologists, not consequentialists. That is why they devote so much time and energy to identifying and classifying fallacies. A fallacy is an argument that, while psychologically appealing, is logically defective. A fallacy is a bad argument masquerading as a good one.

The larger point is this. My posting news items, editorial opinions, and letters to the editor does not constitute an endorsement of the views they express. Anyone who reads my blog regularly should know this. Perhaps the coward isn't a regular reader.

7-20-84 . . . It has been fifteen years since a human being first walked on the moon. Today there were stories on the radio, on television, and in the newspaper marking the anniversary. Frankly, I don't remember much about the event. I was twelve years old at the time, but the significance of the moonwalk somehow seems to have escaped me. I recall seeing images of the walk on television, and speaking of it briefly with friends, but that's about all. Now, of course, I am able to put things in perspective. The moonwalk was an important event, both technologically and philosophically. It was technologically important because it demonstrated the human capacity to identify, analyze, and solve particular physical problems. But it was philosophically important because it demonstrated to everyone that the "frontier," long thought to be limited to the earth, was limited only by human imagination. Frontiers are where you find them: in space, in the mind, in the oceans, in time. I applaud the scientists who conceived and engineered the moonwalk. Today our efforts are focused on developing a useful space shuttle system, but we mustn't forget those who set the stage for these endeavors. The moonwalk will go down in history as a profound human achievement, right along with Columbus's voyages and Lewis and Clark's 1804 expedition up the Missouri River.

This week's link is to PEA Soup.

The Seven Samurai was a high-class 'Eastern', re-made as a high-class Western in The Magnificent Seven. The bandits are romantic figures, given to boozing, wenching, riding horses at high speed and firing their pistols for no particular reason.

(Colin Tudge, Neanderthals, Bandits and Farmers: How Agriculture Really Began, Darwinism Today, ed. Helena Cronin and Oliver Curry [New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1999 (1998)], 27)

I've been running in earnest for almost eight years. I have eleven marathons and dozens of other races (at all distances) under my belt. Before I took up competitive running, I rode my bicycle. I began serious bicycling in 1982, when I rode my Sears bike around Michigan (742 miles) in ten days. In 1984, I rode across Arizona in five days—in the middle of summer. The years of exertion drove my resting heart rate into the mid-forties. One doctor said I didn't have veins; I had "pipelines."

I say all this not to brag but to provide context. Some of you may recall that I developed a severe hip pain that sent me to the hospital three weeks ago. I'm not sure what brought it on, but I first noticed the ache in my lower back while walking off the softball field after a game. (I play on the UTA Liberal Arts team, The Waybacks.) I took six of the fifteen pain pills and the full course of cortisone. Within a few days, I was able to walk without bending over.

The worst part about having a bad hip was not being able to run. Running is so much a part of my life that not doing it has an adverse effect on everything else, even sleeping. It's hard to explain the feeling I get when my heart and lungs don't get revved up every other day or so. I feel congested, restless, bloated, lazy, even guilty. It's awful. Bicycling doesn't work my heart and lungs quite the way running does; and it's a lot less convenient, since I have to load the bike up in my car and drive somewhere.

A few days ago, I couldn't stand it. I had to run. It was slow, and I didn't go far, but I got through it. My right hip is weak. Sometimes it feels as though it's going to collapse. This weakness must be affecting my gait, because when I got done running, my right calf was sore. Talk about robbing Peter to pay Paul! The sore calf affected my walking for a few days, but finally it returned to normal. Today I ran again, despite the brutal heat and humidity. I had every reason to believe it would trash my calf again, but I had to do it. I must be addicted to running. The feeling of having run is better than any drug I can imagine. Try it. Then again, maybe you shouldn't, since you may get to where I am: willing to trash one body part to make another feel good.

Here is another well-produced and interesting blog. It can't be all bad, since it links to AnalPhilosopher. I shall reciprocate by putting a permanent link on the left.

Donald L. Luskin is one of my favorite bloggers. Among his many virtues is that he keeps Paul Krugman honest. Thanks, Don, for all of your hard work. Keep it up.

To the Editor:

"Machine at Work," by Paul Krugman (column, July 13), looks at one company, Enron, and its ties to Tom DeLay, the House majority leader. After reading it, though, you might get the impression that America's corporations and Mr. DeLay are plotting to take over our political system.

Let's remember that corporations employ our workers; they innovate, invent and are the engine that helps keep our economy strong.

Does Mr. Krugman want Congress to pass laws preventing corporations from earning profits? Does he want every business executive to be prevented from participating in the electoral process?

If a corporation and its managers break the law, they should be prosecuted.

Give courts the evidence and juries will convict, as we can see in several recent cases.

Salvatore J. Bommarito
New York, July 13, 2004

KFC Supplier Accused of Animal Cruelty

By DONALD G. McNEIL Jr.

An animal rights group involved in a long legal dispute with Kentucky Fried Chicken about the treatment of the 700 million chickens it buys each year is to release a videotape today showing slaughterhouse workers for one supplier jumping up and down on live chickens, drop-kicking them like footballs and slamming them into walls, apparently for fun.

After officials of the KFC Corporation saw the videotape yesterday, they said they would seek dismissal of the workers, inspect the slaughterhouse more often and end their relationship if the cruelty was repeated. The company that owns the slaughterhouse, the Pilgrim's Pride Corporation, the country's second-largest poultry processor, said it was "appalled" by the tape.

Animal rights groups have long complained that sheer malicious behavior-on top of the expected confinement and bloodletting-goes on in slaughter plants, but this is the first time such graphic proof has been produced. The tape was taken surreptitiously by an investigator for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals who worked from October 2003 to May 2004 at a Pilgrim's Pride plant in Moorefield, W.Va., that won KFC's "Supplier of the Year" award in 1997.

KFC and its parent, Yum Brands, have repeatedly committed themselves to a promise that all suppliers would treat animals humanely. Yesterday, a spokeswoman for KFC said the company "wouldn't tolerate the type of behavior in the video."

KFC "will require that the employee or employees responsible be terminated," said Bonnie Warschauer, director of public relations, and further violations will "result in termination of our relationship."

Prominent veterinarians, including those on the company's animal welfare advisory board, called for shutting the plant and dismissing or prosecuting its managers. Dr. Ian J. H. Duncan, an animal and poultry science professor at the University of Guelph in Ontario, who is a KFC adviser, said the tape "contains some of the worst scenes of animal cruelty that I have ever witnessed."

A Pilgrim's Pride spokesman said the company had an anonymous report about poultry mistreatment at the plant in April and had made it clear to its workers that "any such behavior would result in immediate termination." In light of the tape, the company said, it will reopen its investigation.

The tape includes loud music the workers listen to, the screeching of the birds and the sound of each hitting the wall. When released, it will be on a Web site of the animal-rights group, which is known as PETA, at kentuckyfriedcruelty.com.

The undercover investigator, who spoke on condition of anonymity because he feared retaliation and still does undercover work for the group, said in a telephone interview that he saw "hundreds" of acts of cruelty, including workers tearing beaks off, ripping a bird's head off to write graffiti in blood, spitting tobacco juice into birds' mouths, plucking feathers to "make it snow," suffocating a chicken by tying a latex glove over its head, and squeezing birds like water balloons to spray feces over other birds.

He said the behavior was "to alleviate boredom or vent frustrations," especially when so many birds were coming in that they would have to work late.

On April 6, one day he filmed, workers made a game of throwing chickens against a wall; 114 were thrown in seven minutes. A supervisor walking past the pile of birds on the floor said, "Hold your fire," and, once out of the way, told the crew to "carry on."

On another day, he said, the supervisor told the crew to kill correctly because inspectors were visiting.

To document cruelty and position his tiny camera, he said, he spent eight months working in the "hang pen," where workers attach newly arrived chickens by their feet to a conveyor that carries them upside-down through an electrified "stun bath" and then into the whirling blades of the throat-cutting machine.

KFC says all its suppliers train their workers in animal welfare, but the investigator said Pilgrim's Pride had nothing on the topic in its orientation manual and the only instruction he received was after five months, and then only in how to wring a chicken's neck by hand. The Web site of Pilgrim's Pride does not note any animal welfare policy.

Last year, PETA sued Kentucky Fried Chicken and called for a boycott, demanding that it require its suppliers to give chickens more room in factory barns, stop forcing growth so rapid that it cripples birds, and to gas birds before hanging them so they feel no pain.

The group has won similar concessions from Burger King, McDonald's and Wendy's.

Yum Brands did not do as PETA requested, but its KFC Web site says the company is "committed to the humane treatment of animals." It describes steps taken to assure such treatment, including creating an advisory council and promising to "only deal with suppliers who provide an environment that is free from cruelty, abuse and neglect."

Dr. Temple Grandin, a well-known veterinary scientist who designs plants for humane slaughter, called the behavior shown on the videotape "absolutely atrocious."

Dr. Grandin is on KFC's animal welfare advisory board, but said PETA had not told her when it sent her the tape this month where it had been taken. "They need to fire the plant manager," she said.

Both Ms. Warschauer of KFC and a spokesman for Pilgrim's Pride said they would ask Dr. Grandin to visit the plant.

PETA said it planned to ask a West Virginia prosecutor to prosecute plant employees and managers under state laws that make torture or malicious killing of animals a felony. It has also written to KFC and Pilgrim's Pride, asking them to use gas to knock the animals out before they are killed and to mount video cameras to forestall employee cruelty.

The PETA investigator said he would testify, calling it "the right thing to do."

Several American and British veterinary experts to whom PETA sent the videotape expressed disgust.

"I have visited many poultry slaughterhouses but I have never seen cruelty to chickens to the extent shown in this video," said Dr. Donald M. Broom, professor of animal welfare at Cambridge University and chairman of the European Union's animal welfare scientific committee. "It would be grounds for a successful prosecution for cruelty to animals in most countries."

Habit, n. A shackle for the free.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

Suppose I tell you that I don't care about Ohioans. When I act, I disregard their interests. They are as nothing to me. You would be aghast. "Why treat Ohioans differently from others, such as Texans?" you ask. Because they're Ohioans, I say. I don't care about Ohioans. "But why not? They have the same interests you and I do. They can suffer every bit as much." "I know, but I just don't care about them," I reply.

You would rightly accuse me of inconsistency. Unless I can point to some morally relevant difference between Ohioans and nonOhioans that would justify my differential treatment, I act wrongly in treating them differently. As Aristotle pointed out long ago, justice consists in treating like cases alike and different cases differently—and in strict proportion to the differences.

This is the situation of people who eat meat. Unless they're stupid, they know that the meat they eat is the result of a process that inflicts a great deal of undeserved suffering. They would never think to inflict such suffering on a fellow human. "Why treat animals differently from humans?" I ask. "Because they're animals," you say. "I just don't care about animals."

One reader accused me of going emotional. Where's the emotion in what I just wrote? It's an argument. I'm claiming that meat-eaters are inconsistent in treating suffering differently depending on the species of the individual who suffers. If you think animals don't matter, morally, then the burden is on you to point to a morally relevant difference. If you think blacks don't matter, morally, then the burden is on you to point to a morally relevant difference. Can we agree that this is where the burden lies?

Racists disregard or discount the interests of other races. Sexists disregard or discount the interests of the other sex. Ethnocentrists disregard or discount the interests of other ethnicities. Nationalists disregard or discount the interests of other nationalities. Speciesists disregard or discount the interests of other species.

One reader said that not all the animals he eats have suffered. Does he know that? If you buy meat in a grocery store, the probability is near 1.0 that it came from an animal that was made to suffer. Do you know the facts about factory farming? If not, then you're culpably ignorant. There is no excuse for not inquiring into the means by which all of the products you use were produced. Would you buy a pair of sneakers if you had reason to believe that they were made by slave labor? What if you went out of your way to remain ignorant of how your sneakers were produced? Does that exculpate you? Surely not. Personal responsibility means being responsible (accountable) for whatever went into the products one buys. If you buy sneakers made with slave labor, you enslaved someone. That you didn't see the sneakers made is irrelevant.

Unless you know for a fact that the animal whose flesh you eat did not suffer, it is morally irresponsible for you to eat its flesh. I suspect that only a tiny fraction of meat consumed satisfies this requirement.

Another reader asked what meat-eating has to do with war, since I discussed the two issues in a single post. The obvious answer is that both involve the infliction of harm. Any reasonable person, and certainly a philosopher, should strive to develop a coherent view of the permissibility of harm-infliction (including killing). If you think that the suffering of Iraqis counts for as much as the suffering of Americans, how can you consistently discount or disregard the suffering of animals? Why do you insist that Iraqis be given full moral consideration but allow that animals be given less than full moral consideration (or none at all)?

As every psychologist knows, people compartmentalize their thinking. It's a defense mechanism, a way of avoiding cognitive dissonance and uncomfortable feelings such as guilt and shame. For example, people have a view about abortion, about capital punishment, about war, about meat-eating, about suicide, and about self-defense. Is there an underlying principle for these views? Shouldn't there be? Isn't it the job of a philosopher to induce people to work out a coherent ethic of killing?

One reason people are so testy about my posts on animals is that they've compartmentalized their thinking. I can see it in their letters. They put animals into a separate moral category. Either animals don't count at all or they don't count for as much as humans. This compartmentalization allows people to eat meat with a clear conscience. Well, I'm here to dirty your conscience. Stop compartmentalizing and start being consistent. Unless you can cite a morally relevant difference between humans and animals that justifies discounting or disregarding the suffering of the latter, you are irrational and irresponsible. Why not stop eating meat until you've thought things through? Isn't that what a conscientious person would do?

By the way, one person keeps saying that animals aren't innocent. What the hell are they, guilty? For the last time, animals are innocent in the same sense as Iraqi children. All this means is that they don't deserve to suffer. If you care about the suffering of Iraqi children, you must, to be consistent, care about the suffering of animals. Suffering is suffering, whether it's in a black body, a white body, an Iraqi body, an American body, a human body, or an animal body. Suffering is intrinsically bad. Therefore, it is prima facie wrong to inflict it. Since there is no need or other justification for inflicting it on animals, it is wrong, all things considered, to do so. That's my argument. If you can't find anything wrong with it, then either stop eating meat or admit that you're too weak to do so.

My life changed in 1978, when I was twenty-one years old. I had been a fan of rock-and-roll music since 1973, when I fell in love with Led Zeppelin's "Over the Hills and Far Away" (from Houses of the Holy). I heard this song just about every morning on AM radio as I prepared for school. It grew on me. The first album I ever bought was Alice Cooper's Billion Dollar Babies (on eight-track tape). By the spring of 1978, when I was a junior in college, I was a full-fledged headbanger with long hair, faded bell-bottomed jeans, metal bracelets, and shit-kickin' boots. I had a car, a job, and an attitude.

My favorite bands were Kiss, Queen, Aerosmith, The New York Dolls, Ted Nugent, Foghat, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, and Nazareth. I saw all of these bands in concert, some of them, such as Kiss, several times. My friends and I dabbled with instruments. (See here.) I learned quite a few songs on guitar. Our world revolved around music. If we weren't listening to it, we were talking or arguing about it. We coined terms for musicians we didn't like, such as The Captain and Toenail (Tennille) and Elton Puss (John). It was very macho.

One winter evening, while studying in my room at my parents' house, where I lived throughout college, an unfamiliar song came on the radio. It blew my mind. It was clean, melodic, and powerful. The guitar was exquisite. I remember staring at the radio for the longest time, mouth agape. When the song ended, I listened carefully for the name of the band. "Van Halen," the DJ said. "What the hell is a Van Halen?" I wondered. The song I heard was "Jamie's Cryin'." I have it playing right now and it still puts me through changes. Twenty-six years later!

It's hard to explain the effect this album, which I soon purchased, had on me. I had never heard anyone play guitar like Eddie Van Halen, and believe me, I had heard some great ones, such as Tony Iommi, Brian May, Joe Perry, Jimmy Page, and Ted Nugent. He did things that nobody had ever done, things I could not figure out on my own. It was frustrating. Whenever I could, I asked guitar-playing friends or music-store workers about him. They said he had been classically trained, which made sense. Another difference between Van Halen and other rock bands was that Van Halen used harmonies. The juxtaposition of heavy-metal riffs and perfect four-part harmonies was too much. To top it all off, the singer, David Lee Roth, was the ultimate showman. His personality shone through on every song.

My concert-going days are long over, but I've always thought that two bands could draw me back to the arena: The Who and Van Halen. I haven't seen either one in concert. I would put up with rowdy fans and cigarette smoke, plus the obligatory vomit on my shoes, to see them. I would be twenty-one all over again, screaming my head off (and hoping that none of my students saw me).

While I'm writing about Van Halen, I have a funny story to tell. My stepfather, Jerry, worked long hours in the factory during my years at home. (He still does.) He worked odd shifts. Sometimes he slept throughout the day. One day, I thought he was gone, so when my friend Jim Stange came over, I put Van Halen's first album in my mother's eight-track player in the living room and turned up the volume. Jim and I got down. The house was rocking! We were playing air guitar and singing along with Diamond Dave.

Later, I learned that Jerry had slept though this—or tried to. I had no idea he was home; nor did he say or do anything to let me know that he was. When my mother told me that evening that he had been sleeping, I wanted to kill myself. Jerry had never seen this side of me. To him, I was a good boy, not a partier. What would he think? My mother must have sensed my shame, because she quickly added, "He said that guitar player can really play."

I'm laughing so hard right now I have tears streaming down my face. Jerry likes country music, not rock and roll. He wouldn't know the first thing about any rock band or musician. That he noticed Eddie Van Halen's guitar-playing talent shows just how good he is. Sorry to wake you up, Jerry. I'm glad you got off on the music.

"I think I've travelled here before,
And stood upon this velvet shore,
That looks out to the golden ship of Reason."

The man took to the gentle life,
The wind cried to the skies,
I felt that I would cry as I was leaving.

Tomorrow is a step away,
Twice removed from yesterday's sadness.
Still I am a dream away,
Twice removed from yesterday's sweet madness.

"And in my dream, I thought I heard
The truth behind the spoken word.
I thought that I had something to believe in."

But all too soon the dream was gone,
And in the dust that lingered on,
The tears that I'd shed tried to free me.

Tomorrow is a step away,
Twice removed from yesterday's sadness.
Still I am a dream away,
Twice removed from yesterday's sweet madness.

It's starting to look as though the man who disseminated the "Bush lied" meme uttered a proposition he believed to be false (and that was in fact false) with the aim of deceiving people into believing it true. His motive for the deception was both self-regarding (financial gain) and other-regarding (bringing down a president he despised). In other words, it's starting to look as though Joe Wilson lied. Ironic, isn't it?

I wonder whether Chris Matthews of MSNBC's Hardball, who gave Wilson huge blocks of air time in which to spew his hatred, will even mention that Wilson's veracity has been called into question. This, incidentally, is one way in which bias manifests itself. Chris Matthews chooses his guests. Pay attention to the people he chooses. Look for patterns. By putting the likes of Wilson on his show and letting him talk, without giving equal time to the other side, Matthews gets to push a position without appearing to. I used to respect Matthews. No more. He has revealed himself to be a Bush-hater like many other so-called journalists. There's nothing wrong with opposing the war, but one should be honest, forthright, and fair about it. Matthews uses manipulative rhetoric and other devious techniques to undermine support for the war.

Don't hold your breath waiting for Matthews to issue any retractions, for it will call his own impartiality, integrity, and judgment into question. If anything, expect him to give Wilson even more air time, as if the person being wronged in this whole affair is Wilson rather than President Bush.

Today is the second "rest" day in the Tour de France, which ends Sunday in Paris. I use quotation marks because, although there is no racing on this day, the riders will still be on their bikes for two to three hours. They mustn't allow their muscles to relax. Here is an image that shows the beauty of the sport.

It's ironic that people who believe in the right to own and carry firearms are called "gun-lovers." It's not love of guns that motivates gun ownership; it's love of liberty and security. Some people, such as the editors of The New York Times, don't get it. Here is an editorial opinion from today's Times:

The Right to Bare Arms

The latte grande at the Starbucks in Tysons Corner, Va., must have seemed extra steamy last month when two college students bellied up to the bar packing pistols on their hips, as casually as if they wore cellphones. Someone called the police, who confiscated the handguns and charged the students. But wait: the Catch-22 in Virginia's enfeebled gun control laws has kicked in.

Sure there's a state law against carrying loaded firearms in public. But the lethal fine print defines "firearm" as a 20-round-plus assault rifle. So smaller weapons, like the .22-caliber and 9-millimeter pistols the students flaunted in their holsters, are legal and no permit is required. The pistols were returned, thereby contributing to a celebratory mood among the state's gun enthusiasts. Now they're strutting their Second Amendment stuff among Main Street shoppers and restaurant diners in Washington's booming Virginia suburbs.

There was what seemed a self-fantasized posse of six this month at a table in a Champps restaurant, their weapons prominent as pepper mills. The same false alarm ensued, with a police patrol backing off in the face of citizens' exercising their rights, according to The Washington Post. And how about the couple walking their dogs on busy Market Street in Reston? They carried pistols on their hips, plus extra ammunition clips, as if the area were a set from "The Wild Bunch" and not one of the most crime-free places in Virginia.

The flaunting ritual is a tribute to "open carry" gun laws on the books in a score of states. Outcries from the unarmed public usually go unheeded. In Utah, university administrators worried over students' wearing guns in dormitories were overruled by the legislature, which defended gun rights—even to the point of packing in class.

You'd think Virginia citizens concerned about weapons in public would be able to seek comfort in the primacy of local controls. Alexandria, for instance, has barred open carrying. But that was before the very latest Catch-22 in Virginia law: effective this month, state law bars any locality from enacting gun regulations. Gotcha.

There is no argument here, just a bald expression of animosity toward those who wish to defend themselves from criminals. Thank goodness for Virginians! Thank goodness for common sense!

Sixteen Truthful Words

By WILLIAM SAFIRE

"The British government has learned that Saddam Hussein recently sought significant quantities of uranium from Africa." —George W. Bush, State of the Union address, Jan. 28, 2003

WASHINGTON—Those were "the 16 words" in a momentous message to a joint session of Congress that were pounced on by the wrong-war left to become the simple centerpiece of its angry accusation that "Bush lied to us"—or, as John Kerry more delicately puts it—"misled" us into thinking that Saddam's Iraq posed a danger to the U.S.

The he-lied-to-us charge was led by Joseph Wilson, a former diplomat sent in early 2002 by the C.I.A. to Niger to check out reports by several European intelligence services that Iraq had secretly tried to buy that African nation's only major export, "yellowcake" uranium ore.

Wilson testified to the Senate Intelligence Committee that he had assured U.S. officials back in 2002 that "there was nothing to the story." When columnist Robert Novak raised the question of nepotism by reporting that he got the assignment at the urging of his C.I.A. wife, Wilson denied that heatedly and denounced her "outing," triggering an investigation. The skilled self-promoter was then embraced as an antiwar martyr, sold a book with "truth" in its title, appeared on the cover of Time and every TV talk show denouncing Bush.

Two exhaustive government reports came out last week showing that it is the president's lionized accuser, and not Mr. Bush, who has been having trouble with the truth.

Contrary to his indignant claim that "Valerie had nothing to do with the matter" of selecting him for the African trip, the Senate published testimony that his C.I.A. wife had "offered up his name" and printed her memo to her boss that "my husband has good relations" with Niger officials and "lots of French contacts." Further destroying his credibility, Wilson now insists this strong pitch did not constitute a recommendation.

More important, it now turns out that senators believe his report to the C.I.A. after visiting Niger actually bolstered the case that Saddam sought—Bush's truthful verb was "sought"—yellowcake, the stuff of nuclear bombs. The C.I.A. gave Wilson's report a "good" grade because "the Nigerien officials admitted that the Iraqi delegation had traveled there in 1999 and that the Nigerien Prime Minister believed the Iraqis were interested in purchasing uranium"—confirming what the British and Italian intelligence services had told us from their own sources.

But a C.I.A. analyst opined "the Brits have exaggerated this issue" because "the Iraqis already have 550 metric tons of uranium oxide in their inventory."

State Department intelligence also was dubious, reports the Senate, more so in October when an Italian journalist brought in a bunch of phony documents somebody was trying to sell him about a Niger uranium transaction. This outweighed the report of a top security official in the French Foreign Ministry, who told U.S. diplomats in November 2002 that "France believed the reporting was true that Iraq had made a procurement attempt for uranium from Niger."

Two months later, with no objection from C.I.A., the famous 16 words went into Bush's 2003 State of the Union.

But when word leaked about the fake documents—which were not the basis of the previous reporting by our allies—Wilson launched his publicity campaign, acting as if he had known earlier about the forgeries. The Senate reports that in his misleading anonymous leak to The Washington Post, "He said he may have misspoken . . . he said he may have become confused about his own recollection. . . ." The subsequent firestorm caused the White House to retreat prematurely with: "the sixteen words did not rise to the level of inclusion in the State of the Union address."

That apology was a mistake; Bush had spoken the plain truth. Did Saddam seek uranium from Africa, evidence of his continuing illegal interest in a nuclear weapon? Here is Lord Butler's nonpartisan panel, which closely examined the basis of the British intelligence:

". . . we conclude that the statement in President Bush's State of the Union Address of 28 January 2003 that 'The British Government has learned that Saddam Hussein recently sought significant quantities of uranium from Africa' was well-founded."

It's good to see Old Benjamin back at the helm. See here for his post on the racism and misanthropy of Michael Moore. Is anyone surprised? The man is vileness personified.

Distance, n. The only thing that the rich are willing for the poor to call theirs, and keep.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

I've made a decision. Henceforth, when someone tells me that he or she opposed the war in Iraq, I'll ask why. If the answer includes concern for innocent Iraqis who were killed during the war, I'll ask whether the speaker eats meat. If the answer is yes, I'll end the discussion.

How can I take seriously someone who professes concern for innocent human beings but willingly inflicts terrible suffering on innocent nonhuman animals? This is as flagrant an inconsistency as can be imagined. That people don't notice it testifies to an almost infinite human capacity for denial, delusion, rationalization, and self-servingness.

Someone might say that there are morally relevant differences between humans and animals. Of course there are. But to say that there are morally relevant differences between X and Y is not to say that there are no morally relevant similarities between X and Y. Two beings can be alike in some respects but different in others. Suppose one of my children has been bad and another good. There's a morally relevant difference between them that would justify differential treatment; but this doesn't mean the bad child loses all moral status.

Follow along with me. Sentient beings, i.e., beings who have the capacity to suffer, have an interest in not suffering. Suffering is intrinsically bad. Therefore, it's prima facie wrong to inflict suffering. This means that, unless there is a good reason to inflict suffering, it is wrong to do so. But what is the good reason for making animals suffer? That you like the taste of their cooked flesh? If that's a moral reason at all, it's extremely weak. Certainly it's not strong enough to justify the infliction of pain! How would you like it if someone put his or her trivial interests ahead of your significant interests? You would be outraged. Morally outraged.

Meat-eaters are walking contradictions. They violate their own moral principles. How can I take seriously someone whose heart bleeds for innocent Iraqis but who happily kills and eats innocent animals? I can't. Until meat-eating opponents of the war in Iraq change their diets, they forfeit their right to be taken seriously.

I'm always stunned to hear intelligent people defend meat-eating on the ground that animals kill and eat each other. (See here.) To quote Ronald Dworkin from another context, this is an "album of confusions."

First, not all animals kill and eat each other. Some animals are herbivores. Perhaps we should emulate them rather than omnivores or carnivores.

Second, what's the underlying principle? Is it that we may (morally) do anything any animal does? But surely that's not acceptable, for it implies, inter alia, that we may dominate other humans. Do we really want to look to animals for moral guidance? Any less-inclusive principle runs the risk of being self-serving. People who want to eat meat will justify it by citing the fact that some animals eat meat; but they won't cite animal behavior as justification for behaviors they dislike, such as incest and conquest.

Third, even if it's in our nature as human beings to eat meat, it doesn't follow that we may. It's in our nature as human beings to do many things that are wrong, such as inseminate women against their will, aggress on others, disregard the interests of those of other races and religions, and deceive others. That something is natural for humans goes no way toward showing that it's morally permissible. This violates Hume's law, which prohibits inferences from "is" to "ought."

Fourth, there's a relevant difference between humans and animals. Only humans are moral agents. (Animals are moral patients.) Only humans have the capacity to reflect on their desires and act against them. Only humans can act on the basis of principle. Only humans are responsible for their conduct. To blame an animal for harming another animal would be as absurd and pointless as blaming lightning for causing a fire. Since humans can decide how to act, we must decide, using reason, how to act. This difference between humans and animals imposes a special responsibility on humans. With moral agency comes responsibility. To say that we ought to act as animals do is to shirk this responsibility and become mere animals. It is a rationalization of something one wants to do but can't justify doing.

By the way, I wrote about this confusion on 26 April (see here), but I keep getting letters from people that suggest that they haven't read or understood it. Some things bear repeating.

It is often supposed that if an action is the end of a causal chain, i.e. determined, and the causes stretch back in time to events for which an agent has no conceivable responsibility, then the agent is not responsible for the action. The dilemma adds that if an action is not the end of such a chain, then either it or one of its causes occurs at random, in that no antecedent events brought it about, and in that case nobody is responsible for its occurrence either. So whether or not determinism is true, responsibility is shown to be illusory.

(Simon Blackburn, The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996 (1994)], 105-6, s.v. "dilemma of determinism" [italics in original; asterisks omitted])

The Smart quote [see here] features a false dilemma:

(1) If determinism is true than [sic; should be "then"] our actions are determined by some previous state of the universe. Determinism implies that if the state of the universe at some time to is So, then consistently with this and with the laws of nature at any other time t there is only one state St of the universe. So we do not have free will.

(2) If determinism is not true then our actions may happen by pure chance. How could we be said to act freely if our action did not flow from our character, our beliefs and desires, and hence be determined by a state of the universe that included our neurophysiological 'programming'? If an action happened by pure chance, might we not find ourselves, to our horror, doing something we did not want to do, such as eating a toad? Would not such indeterminism take away our freedom?

(3) Conclusion: whether the universe is deterministic or indeterministic we do not have free will.

But number 2 is not really parallel to number 1. Here's a true dilemma that would, if sound, accomplish what Smart thinks: 1) If determinism is true, all of our actions are determined by prior events. Hence, no free will. 2) If determinism is not true, all of our actions are by pure chance. Hence, no free will.

That is what Smart would need for number 2: A statement that actually does imply that we lack free will for ALL actions in the absence of determinism. What his number 2 really says currently is more like this, "If determinism is not true, then SOME of our actions might happen by chance." But so what? Even if a few actions happen by chance, that is compatible with our having free will the rest of the time.

Right?

Stuart Buck

History of philosophy, as taught within philosophy departments, is often . . . a parody of the historical. Reading a work of the past, the philosopher regularly seeks the author's positions on current problems, criticizes them with the aid of current apparatus, and interprets his text to maximize its coherence with modern doctrine. In that process the historic original is often lost. I am told, for example, of the response of a former philosophy colleague to a student who questioned his reading of a passage in Marx. "Yes," he said, "the words do seem to say what you suggest. But that cannot be what Marx meant, for it is plainly false." Why Marx should have chosen to use the words he did was not a problem worth pausing for.

(Thomas S. Kuhn, "The Relations Between History and History of Science," in Historical Studies Today, ed. Felix Gilbert and Stephen R. Graubard [New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1972], 159-92, at 182)

Steve Headley has a great sense of humor. See here. In my judgment, having been on both sides, conservatives have better senses of humor than liberals. This suggests that they're healthier, happier, better adjusted, more mature, and more emotionally balanced. Liberals have chips on their shoulders that prevent them from enjoying life, especially when, as now, they lack the political power they need to implement their egalitarian fantasies. They're restless, anxious, frustrated, resentful, and angry. None of these states is conducive to laughter or levity.

I haven't written about former ambassador Joseph Wilson, but from the time I first saw and listened to him on television, I doubted his veracity. He seemed slimy to me. But since it was only a feeling, I let it go. Now there is evidence that Wilson is indeed slimy, or at least duplicitous. See here. I wonder whether those (such as Paul Krugman) who leapt to his defense and who cited his book in support of their conspiracy theories will now repudiate him and apologize. Don't hold your breath.

See here for my post entitled "PETA's Unsavoriness."

Here is an essay about John Edwards's legal career. I don't blame Edwards and other trial lawyers for working the system. I blame the system. Our legal system must embody the principle of personal responsibility. That a defendant has deep pockets is irrelevant to liability. The aim of tort law (the law of civil wrongs) is compensation for injustice. Not every misfortune is an injustice. (Thanks to James Taranto of Best of the Web Today for the link.)

Patriotism, n. Combustible rubbish ready to the torch of any one ambitious to illuminate his name.

In Dr. Johnson's famous dictionary patriotism is defined as the last resort of a scoundrel. With all due respect to an enlightened but inferior lexicographer I beg to submit that it is the first.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

To the Editor:

The gross underrepresentation of women in specialized occupations in the securities industry (Business Day, July 14) is very dramatic, but it does not really show that Wall Street is discriminating. Discrimination would occur if women were underrepresented relative to the actual pool of qualified applicants that the companies had to choose from. Women in occupations in other industries might not be relevant, particularly in regard to sales positions.

But beyond the mere numbers, there may be signs of deep-seated discrimination in our society and educational system. We should be very concerned with why, for example, there are so few women computer programmers in all industries rather than why Wall Street has even fewer.

GARY CHAISON
Worcester, Mass., July 14, 2004
The writer is a professor of labor relations at Clark University.

Some people know just enough about language to be dangerous (and annoying). Take the expression, "I could care less." How many times have you heard someone explain, with the utmost earnestness, that it should be, "I couldn't care less"? Perhaps you've done so yourself.

You're wrong. Do you know what sarcasm is? When one speaks sarcastically, "one means roughly the opposite of what one says" (Kent Bach and Robert M. Harnish, Linguistic Communication and Speech Acts [Cambridge and London: The MIT Press, 1982 (1979)], 67). Here are two examples of sarcasm:

• Boy, this food is terrific! (terrible)
• That argument is a real winner. (loser)

Imagine someone uttering the first of these sentences and someone else interjecting to say, "You mean the food is terrible, not terrific." The first speaker would be dumbfounded, wondering why the second speaker hadn't picked up on the sarcasm. We indicate sarcasm by tone of voice, among other things.

If I say that I could care less, I almost certainly mean that I couldn't care less, i.e., that my degree of care is already minimal. Why don't I say what I mean? Why doesn't the person who says the food is terrific but means that it's terrible say what he or she means? Why do we ever speak sarcastically? Sarcasm, like other forms of nonliteral speech (irony and facetiousness, for example), enriches our discourse and therefore our lives.

Could there be someone who says, "I could care less," but isn't being sarcastic? Yes. Could there be someone who says, "Boy, this food is terrific!" but isn't being sarcastic? Yes. The speaker in a given case may be speaking literally, i.e., saying what he or she means. But we should not assume that this is the case. The next time someone says, "I could care less," treat it as an instance of pragmatically correct sarcasm (a kind of nonliterality) rather than as a mistake. That's the charitable thing to do.

Unfortunately, the Stoic view of animals, with its stress on their irrationality, became embedded in Western, Latin-speaking Christianity above all through Augustine. Western Christianity concentrated on one half, the anti-animal half, of the much more evenly balanced ancient debate. Although there were other strands in Western Christianity, I think this accounts for the relative complacency of our Western Christian tradition about the killing of animals. The ancient philosophers were less complacent. In the eighteenth century the tide began to turn, and in the last fifteen years it has accelerated, with a widespread rethinking of our treatment of animals. But I do not believe that the right defence of animals has yet been found. The modern philosophical defences seem to me to be too one-dimensional. What is clear, however, is that we should treat animals very much better than we do. My own diet has changed as a result of reflecting on the ancient texts, at least when I am choosing for myself, although I still enjoy whatever food I am served by others. I do not mention that as a particularly compelling position, and I have no wish to tell anyone else what to do. I explain in the concluding chapter why I think decisions must be complex, and suggest an alternative approach.

(Richard Sorabji, Animal Minds and Human Morals: The Origins of the Western Debate, Cornell Studies in Classical Philology, vol. 54 [Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1993], 2-3)

7-17-84 The Democratic national convention began yesterday, and as I sat watching the proceedings from San Francisco, all of my political science training came back. There was Mario Cuomo, governor of New York and a "rising star" in Democratic politics, giving a rousing speech on Democratic principles and the Democratic past; and tonight there was Jesse Jackson, presidential candidate, exhorting the delegates to keep social justice and peace foremost in mind as they select a candidate and recruit Democratic voters in the weeks and months to come. Both Cuomo and Jackson are good speakers, and I must say that they touched a nerve more than once on issues such as feeding the hungry and disarming the superpowers. But really, they represent different constituencies of the Democratic party. Cuomo, an Italian-American from New York, represents the Democratic party of the past—the party of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, New Deals, and "traditional American values" such as family life, religious belief, and hard work. Cuomo, I think, appeals primarily to blue-collar laborers in urban areas. Jackson, meanwhile, a black American from South Carolina by way of Chicago, represents the Democratic party of the future—the party that "might be" rather than the party that is or was. In fact, Jackson has premised his entire presidential campaign on the enfranchisement of new Democrats—people who are outside the mainstream of Democratic politics. These people include Hispanics, environmentalists, transients, homosexuals, women, blacks, Asian-Americans, and poor farmers. Jackson speaks often of the "Rainbow coalition," by which he means the collection of people who support him and share his vision of the future. What a contrast, to see these two politicians share their dreams and visions with us! But that's what makes American politics so interesting, and that is why I have been glued to the television set for four hours in the past two days. I am a political animal.

One of the worst things to happen to me in my forty-seven years of existence was the loss of my beloved canine companion Ginger on Thanksgiving day 2000. I was a zombie for weeks. I was deep into marathon training when she died, but I knew I had to keep going. Near the end of the marathon, seventeen days after her death, I started thinking about Ginger and began to cry. That affected my breathing, so I had to think about other things. Ginger was the sweetest, smartest, most beautiful dog in the world, with the exception of Sophie, with whom she was tied. I still talk to Ginger on every walk, as silly as that may sound.

Sophie and I got on for nearly three years by ourselves. I knew we needed a puppy, but I was afraid it would disrupt our lives and remind me of Ginger. Okay, I felt guilty about trying to "replace" Ginger. Finally, a year ago today, I drove to the North Texas Humane Society in Fort Worth. I made the rounds of dogs and was about to go home empty-handed. I wanted a particular age, sex, and breed, and no dog in the shelter filled the bill. Before leaving, I decided to make one more pass through the small-dog area. This time I saw Shelbie, a three-and-a-half-month-old stinker. She had just been put in a cage, probably because she had just gotten her shots. She walked toward me, nuzzled my hand, and stole my heart. Within two hours, she was home with Sophie and me.

The first couple of days were hard. As expected, I felt guilty, as if I were dishonoring Ginger's memory. But mercifully it passed. Each day brought more joy into our lives, replacing the awful sadness. The past year has been one of the happiest of my life, and I've had many happy years. Shelbie is every bit as sweet, smart, and beautiful as Ginger. I love her dearly. She learns from and plays with Sophie, who, at eleven and a half years of age, is kept young by the upstart's energy and playfulness. How did I get lucky again? I am thrice-blessed. Here is Shelbie the day I brought her home (eleven pounds) and here she is today (45.5 pounds) with Sophie.

Ally Eskin has a thoughtful post about meat-eating. See here. To answer Ally's question about what to do about the cows, pigs, and chickens we stop eating, what happened to the horse-drawn carriages and Edsels people stopped buying? Did their manufacturers continue to produce them? No; they stopped making them. We'll stop making cows, pigs, and chickens.

When and why did "gambling" become "gaming"? Someone's trying to fool you, folks. Don't fall for it.

There are two types of meaning: descriptive and emotive. The words "gambling" and "gaming" have the same descriptive meaning but different emotive meanings. "Gambling" has an unfavorable emotive meaning, while "gaming" has a favorable or neutral emotive meaning. Why does "gambling" have an unfavorable emotive meaning? Because gambling—the thing—is an unsavory activity. The unsavoriness of the activity rubs off on its name.

I don't know this, but I suspect gambling interests got together some time back to change their image. They believed that by renaming their business, they would eliminate some of the negativity associated with it and therefore some of the resistance to it (by public officials, for example).

Unfortunately for them, it's only a matter of time before the negativity of "gambling" comes to apply to "gaming." What needs to be changed, in the long run, are attitudes toward gambling itself, not merely the name of the activity. But gambling interests may have bought some time for themselves. Unfavorable emotive meaning doesn't accrue overnight (nor, for that matter, does favorable emotive meaning). Some people may think there's a difference—descriptively—between gambling and gaming. When they find out there isn't, their attitudes will adjust.

The same phenomenon has taken place with "fat" and "obese." The word "fat" has highly unfavorable emotive meaning, since the thing it names is almost universally disliked, even by those who are fat. Someone, somewhere (probably clinicians) decided to coin a new term. But again, this can only buy time. I believe the word "obese" has already taken on the negative connotations of "fat." Indeed, it sounds worse than "fat." To be obese is to be clinically fat, scientifically fat, so fat as to be noticed by health professionals! I predict a new word for "fat" in the not-too-distant future—and no, I'm not thinking "phat," which, as I understand it, means something quite different. How about "willpower-challenged"?

Other examples of emotive meaning abound. Liberals flee from the "L-word." Why? Because Americans don't like liberalism. Feminists flee from "feminist." Why? Because Americans don't like feminism. Americans, pace Michael Moore, are sensible, intelligent people.

Words can't hurt you unless you let them. If you are critical, analytical, and even mildly observant, you will notice word games and not fall for them. There are people out there who know all about words and are trying to use them against you. It's your responsibility as a citizen and as a consumer to keep from being hoodwinked. One way to do this is to take a course in critical thinking, which every college and university offers. Or—shameless plug coming!—buy my coauthored book Informal Logic, 3d ed. (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1996).

To the Editor:

It has long been held that killing a person is a crime against society.

Killing oneself is a proper subset of killing in general, and should not be allowed. Whether or not there is pressure felt by a terminally ill patient is irrelevant. Whether a person perceives that he or she "wants it that way" is irrelevant.

Killing is killing, whether it is oneself or another.

ERIC G. TRONSEN
Shoreline, Wash., July 14, 2004

Witch, n. (1) An ugly and repulsive old woman, in a wicked league with the devil. (2) A beautiful and attractive young woman, in wickedness a league beyond the devil.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

Keith,

Hi, I've written before and I read your blog every day; thanks for the insights.

Regarding your Texas post: Georgia is much like Texas in that regard (our mountains probably aren't as rugged, but their beauty makes up for it). I feel about Georgia the way you feel about Texas and very much think that Texas would be the only other state I would want to live in and love. I say this having only been to Texas once (a trip to Dallas for work).

We have the coast, the mountains, plains, forests—some of the most dense forests in the US. And more animal species than most. The climate is wonderful (but a bit too humid in the summers). I get to travel a lot for work and I'm always glad to come back home to my trees and hills. I've also noticed that the women in Georgia are much prettier than most—but I think that's true for the South in general.

In four years I'll be vested in my retirement (ha, I'm only 31) and plan on moving to Texas—I want to live in a place where I can wear a cowboy hat and not get funny looks! Ha.

Enjoy your weekend.

Billy Earle

Deborah Landan Spranger, "Are State Bar Examiners Crazy? The Legality of Mental Health Questions on Bar Applications Under the Americans with Disabilities Act," University of Cincinnati Law Review 65 (1996): 255.

Melissa Manaugh Feldmeier, "Amazing Disgrace: The Sin and Salvation of Rosenberger v. The University of Virginia, 115 S.Ct. 2510 (1995)," University of Cincinnati Law Review 65 (1996): 293.

Richard H. Weisberg, "It's a Positivist, It's a Pragmatist, It's a Codifier! Reflections on Nietzsche and Stendhal," Cardozo Law Review 18 (September 1996): 85.

Margaret A. Boyd, "Butt Out!! Why the FDA Lacks Jurisdiction to Curb Smoking of Adolescents and Children," Journal of Contemporary Health Law and Policy 13 (fall 1996): 169.

Robert M. Graff, "Has Robinson Killed the Katz? The Eleventh Circuit Concludes That Warrantless Thermal Surveillance of a Home Does Not Constitute a Search Under the Fourth Amendment (United States v. Robinson, 62 F.3d 1325 [11th Cir. 1995])," University of Miami Law Review 51 (January 1997): 511.

All varieties of conservatism place a high value on tradition, but the term "tradition" is radically ambiguous. Liberals see in tradition only that human inertia which leads to static repetition from generation to generation. According to them, tradition is a barrier to improvement and an impediment to the growth of efficiency. It clutters purposive behavior with rituals and customs unnecessary to the work in hand. Progress, therefore, is to be found in the shift from traditional to rational ways of acting. Conservatives, on the other hand, regard tradition as the heritage of skill and attainment on which our present achievements must be founded. Many traditional ways of acting are no doubt habitual and unthinking and thereby economize our efforts. What is more important, however, is that traditions are fertile and adaptable. At this point in the argument, the conservative defense of tradition is likely to become an attack upon the inflated claims that have been made for reason. The tradition of any activity includes not only the conscious reasoning which goes into that activity, but also the dispositions, habits, sensibilities, and sympathies out of which the activity can grow and develop. Reason attempts to make an activity self-conscious by making its principles of operation explicit. What is summed up in the principles, however, is only a part of the activity—the upper part of the iceberg. All activities call upon resources in the individual of which he is only imperfectly conscious. Further, the attempt to rationalize activities is not only incomplete but also brings with it the threat of decline in the tradition; for once these rational principles have been elicited, they constitute an ideology that is likely to turn into a set of inflexible dogmas. Rational principles are often useful—in teaching and in philosophy, for example—but reason cannot, and should not be allowed to, monopolize our approach to practice.

(Kenneth Minogue, "Conservatism," in The Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Paul Edwards [New York: Macmillan Publishing Company & The Free Press, 1967], 2:195-8, at 197)

We are about to see the greatest redistribution of wealth in the history of the world. The federal government is on the verge of classifying obesity as a disease. If and when the United States goes to a single-payer health plan, such as Democrats desire, wealth will be distributed from the healthy, fit, disciplined, and productive to the unhealthy, unfit, lazy, and unproductive. Just think: You can lie around, eat all you want, never exercise, but have your ensuing health problems solved at others' expense. What a wonderful world!

I'm glad I don't earn much money. I have enough to provide for my needs and wants, but not so much that I'm gouged by government. (I pay taxes at a comparatively low rate.) I'm not responsible for other people's poor decisions or bad luck. I resent being coerced into subsidizing profligacy, intemperateness, laziness, and stupidity. I do as little as possible to support the welfare state. If each of us cut back our working hours and lived more frugal lives, we could starve the government. As my mother used to say, you can't get blood from a stone.

See here for the sad story of Tugboat.

7-16-80 An historic event is taking place, or rather MIGHT be taking place. Ronald Reagan, who by the way was just one minute ago nominated for President at the Republican convention [at Joe Louis Arena in Detroit], is reported to be considering former president Gerald Ford as his running mate. The news media are saying that Reagan and Ford are meeting in the Renaissance Center to discuss the matter, with Ford having submitted a list of conditions to his becoming Vice-President. Talk has it that there will be a type of "co-presidency" wherein Reagan and Ford would share the substantive tasks of office. For example, Ford could handle foreign affairs while Reagan concentrates on the domestic economy. Reagan is said to be anxious to have Ford on the ticket because it would increase his chances of winning in November. Maybe by morning we'll know for sure whether a "deal" has been struck. If it is, I will be very surprised. For a former president to agree to run as V.P. is incredible—an unprecedented event. More tomorrow.

Here is a topographical map of Texas. Note the mountains in its southwestern corner. Texas is a diverse state, topographically and climatically. It has everything from coastline to pine forests to prairies to hill country to high plains to rugged mountains. You can see why so many people love this state, and why Texans pity those who are stuck in bland, uninspiring places.

For some time now, I've been trying to figure out why everyone is calling everyone else a liar. A lie is a special type of misrepresentation, one in which the misrepresenter is aware of the misrepresentation but utters it anyway with intent to deceive. Some misrepresentations are innocent (nonculpable), but lying is not. Lying is presumptively wrong, and those who do it are presumptively bad.

Calling someone a liar is a personal attack, for it impugns the person's character and integrity. Suppose you think that President Bush uttered a falsehood when he asserted that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction. He could have been in any of several mental states at the time. First, he may have been negligent. He may have uttered the falsehood, thinking it true, but without taking the care that a reasonable person would have taken in ascertaining its truth. Negligent misrepresentation is culpable, but not to the extent that lying is.

Second, he may have been reckless. He may have uttered the falsehood, thinking it true, but being aware of a substantial probability that it was false. Reckless conduct is more culpable than negligent conduct but not as culpable as intentional or purposive conduct.

If we array these mental states on a continuum, we have negligence on one end and intentional misrepresentation on the other, with recklessness in the middle. It seems clear to me that even if President Bush uttered a falsehood, it wasn't done so with intent to deceive. At most, he was reckless in uttering it, and probably only negligent. He appears to have relied on defective intelligence from those he had a right to trust.

Unfortunately, his critics have no time for such subtleties. They infer from the fact that he uttered a falsehood that he did so on purpose, as part of a devious plan. They impute the worst mental state to him, the one that makes him most culpable. I'm not saying that nobody ever lies, for clearly they do. But we should not say that a misrepresentation is a lie unless we have good evidence for it. The burden of persuasion is on the accuser. Whether the burden of persuasion is heavier or lighter when the person being accused is the president of the United States is a good question. I believe it should be heavier, for there are other incentives for the president to be truthful, such as being caught out by journalists or historians.

It comes down to this. If you would want the benefit of the doubt as to your mental state when you utter falsehoods, then you should confer such a benefit on others, even if you dislike them and, as in the case of President Bush, wish them electoral ill. This is but an application of the Golden Rule, which knows no religion, no party, no time, and no place. It is timeless, placeless, nonpartisan good sense.

Dr Bill Vallicella, whose sybaritic existence I envy, has posted many interesting and provocative items in the past week. I love the care with which Dr Bill prepares his posts. They are grammatically and stylistically beautiful. This shows that philosophical writing need not be arcane or obscure. But then, I knew that the first time I read Joel Feinberg, who set an absurdly high standard for his students. Keep up the good work, Dr Bill. You make the blogosphere a more literate place.

To the Editor:

"Lemons in a Row" (editorial, July 13) says "slot machines are fast becoming America's preferred way to tax the poor."

Yet free will is not lost with colorful lights and exciting sounds; it is still an individual choice to load money into these machines.

Of course these machines "are mathematically rigged to take your money." There is no other way to program them because computers do not have the capability to act randomly.

Gambling is not a tax; it is a choice. Responsibility should be given to the American people to make this choice on their own and not have it made by some well-meaning government bent on saving us from ourselves.

MARK MOORE
Knoxville, Tenn., July 13, 2004

To the Editor:

There was a time when slot machines were a "harmless amusement" for my mother. They required her to board a plane and book a casino hotel room for a weekend. She would set aside a few hundred dollars and have a good time.

Today, there is a casino within easy driving distance from her home, and my mother is an addicted gambler who has lost her savings, her inheritance, her pride and the ability to stop playing.

At 82, she continues to work to support her habit.

This is what the proliferation of gambling has wrought in my family. And now, legislators in Pennsylvania want in on the action. I'd advise against it.

As a former casino executive, I couldn't say I didn't see the harm coming.

FELICIA MASSARSKY
Hoboken, N.J., July 13, 2004

Satan, n. One of the Creator's lamentable mistakes, repented in sashcloth and axes. Being instated as an archangel, Satan made himself multifariously objectionable and was finally expelled from Heaven. Halfway in his descent he paused, bent his head in thought a moment and at last went back.

"There is one favor that I should like to ask," said he.

"Name it."

"Man, I understand, is about to be created. He will need laws."

"What, wretch! you his appointed adversary, charged from the dawn of eternity with hatred of his soul—you ask for the right to make his laws?"

"Pardon; what I have to ask is that he be permitted to make them himself."

It was so ordered.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

Eleven days ago, I found myself showering without hot water. Then the air conditioner began blowing hot air. I panicked. Someone mentioned the circuit breakers, and sure enough the circuits had been broken. I restored them, but other problems arose. I began seeing sparks, arcs, lights, and red-hot wires in the breaker box. I heard crackling sounds. The metal cover got very hot to the touch by late afternoon.

Needless to say, this frightened me. I was worried that my house would burn to the ground. Today, finally, the problem is solved. A wonderful electrician came to my house at eight o'clock sharp to replace the breaker box. It took several hours, during which time I paced the floor of the house, read every word of the newspaper, and went into the garage to engage him in small talk. What a strange thing to be without electricity! The house was silent, without the familiar hum of appliances. We're in the heat of summer here in Fort Worth, but by keeping the doors closed I managed to keep it comfortable inside.

By 1:30 this afternoon, the job was done—just in time for me to watch a replay of today's stage of the Tour de France. It was a momentous stage, so I regretted missing the live version; but the electrician's timing was perfect. Not five minutes after he left the house, the replay began.

I got a late start at the computer this afternoon, so there won't be many posts today. I hope all of you have a safe and pleasant weekend. It sure is nice not to run into the garage every few minutes to see whether a fire has started! Oh, by the way, I've lived in this house for almost twelve years. There have always been lights that didn't work and light switches that did nothing. For example, I had to rig a small lamp in the laundry room. You guessed it: Everything works. Twelve years!

Hi Keith!

Whatever your views on the Iraq war, I find your arguments on Animal Rights and vegetarianism pretty unassailable. And that article by Mylan Engel truly changed my mind. I've stopped eating meat.

Keep up the good work!

Cathal Copeland

Here is my candidate for worst mixed metaphor of all time (quantitative category):

We have developed an understanding by now of what the point of this importunate behavior might be. There is more to it, we found out, than pleasant mental and verbal gymnastics; the effect of looking into the most implausible corners—and entertaining the palest of challenges and addressing them with a whole battery of logical tools—may be that of amassing weapons for future fights and patching the fault lines of our precious island before they begin to crack. (Ermanno Bencivenga, Logic and Other Nonsense: The Case of Anselm and His God [Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993], 62)

Here, if I count aright, are the metaphors contained in the second sentence:

1. pleasant gymnastics (are gymnastics pleasant?)
2. looking into implausible corners (can corners be implausible?)
3. entertaining challenges (?)
4. paleness (can challenges be pale?)
5. addressing challenges (?)
6. battery
7. tools
8. amassing weapons
9. future fights (could one amass weapons for past fights?)
10. patching fault lines
11. island
12. cracking

Twelve metaphors in one sentence! This has to be a record, and an ignominious one at that. The sad thing is, Bencivenga is a philosopher (at least in name).

Rascal, n. A fool considered under another aspect.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

Michael Moore on Israel:

- Quotations from Michael Moore's book Dude, Where's My Country? (Warner Books, 2003) regarding United States support for Israel:

• Moore dedicated his book Dude, Where's My Country? to Rachel Corrie, an International Solidarity Movement volunteer who was killed when she climbed in front of a Caterpillar bulldozer that was destroying tunnels used by Palestinian terrorists to illegally smuggle weapons from Egypt into Gaza.

• "Of course many Israeli children had died too, at the hands of the Palestinians. You would think that would make every Israeli want to wipe out the Arab world, but the average Israeli does not have that response. Why? Because IN THEIR HEARTS, THEY KNOW THEY ARE WRONG, AND THEY KNOW THEY WOULD BE DOING JUST WHAT THE PALESTINIANS ARE DOING IF THE SANDAL WERE ON THE OTHER FOOT." [Note the logic of this accusation: If public-opinion polls were to reveal that a majority of Israelis "want to wipe out the Arab world," Moore would take it as proof that the Israelis are bloodthirsty and depraved, and actually worse than the Arabs because Jews should be held to a higher level of morality. Heads I win, tails you lose?]

• "Hey, here's a way to stop suicide bombings—give the Palestinians a bunch of missile-firing Apache helicopters and let them and the Israelis go at each other head to head. Four billion dollars a year to Israel—four billion dollars a year to the Palestinians—they can just blow each other up and leave the rest of us the hell alone."

• "Now I'm not just talking about your everyday anti-Semites. No, I'm talking about a perceived notion that we Americans are supporting Israel in its oppression of the Palestinian people. Now where did those Arabs come up with an idea like that? Maybe it was when the Palestinian child looked up in the air and saw an American Apache helicopter firing a missile into his baby sister's bedroom just before she was blown into a hundred bits."

- In 1987, Moore was honored by the American Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee for his "courageous efforts in journalism." (ADC Times, January 1990, p. 4)

- In 1990, speaking before the American Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee, Moore announced that he would refuse to attend a screening of his movie Roger and Me, which was being held in Jerusalem. He was quoted as saying that he would not attend until Israel ceased to occupy the West Bank and Gaza. (Arab American News, 1990)

- Moore attended and spoke at a June 1990 demonstration at the Israeli Embassy in Washington D.C., protesting the continued Israeli occupation. (Washington Report on Middle East Affairs, July 2001)

- In October 2003, Moore was honored by the Muslim American Public Affairs Council (MPAC) with a media award. (www.mpac.org)

- In his book Stupid White Men and Other Sorry Excuses for the State of the Nation, Moore proposed that Congress give Israel 30 days to end the bloodshed taking place in its name, and if Israel does not do so, funding to Israel should be cut. He also noted that while individual terrorism is bad, state-sponsored terrorism is truly evil. Moore also proposed that the Palestinians be given their statehood and receive twice as much economic assistance from the United States as Israel receives.

- "In Liverpool, [Moore] paused to contemplate the epicenters of evil in the modern world: 'It's all part of the same ball of wax, right? The oil companies, Israel, Halliburton.'" (quoted by David Brooks in The New York Times, 26 June 2004)

- Recently Moore had no comment when questioned about the rumor that members of Hezbollah had been involved in the distribution of Fahrenheit 9/11. (http://www.moorewatch.com)

- Moore tried to prevent Fahrenheit 9/11 from being shown in Israel. (New Yorker Magazine, 16 February 2004)

- Moore stated: "Anyway, the support Bush and the Republicans feign for Israel is because Israel is near our oil. If the oil wasn't there, I bet those same Republicans wouldn't [care] about Israel." (Los Angeles Times, 22 June 2004) [Boy, talk about selective focus! What about support for Israel by Christian fundamentalists, a core constituency of the Republicans? Are they really concerned about OIL, not Armageddon? What about support for Israel (1) because it is a dependable U.S. ally, (2) a source of intelligence about the Mideast—because so many Israelis speak and read Arab, (3) because Israel is a U.S. military surrogate, e.g. the destruction of Saddam's nuclear facility at Osirik in 1981, (4) because Israel is the ONLY democracy in the Middle East, with a multi-party system, no press censorship and an independent judiciary, and (5) Israel is a major source of technological innovations in medicine, computers and other fields (details on request). Oh, no, it is really about OIL! I am reminded of Stokely Carmichael's claim that the real motive of the Vietnam War was to gain control of Vietnam's oil—(someone had discovered three-and-a-half quarts of Pennzoil in a Hanoi garage), and Barbra Streisand's message to Dick Gephardt on 26 September 2002 that a primary motive of the impending U.S. invasion of Iraq was to benefit Bush's supporters who want to gain control of Iraq's logging industry—in a country that is 3/4 desert! Perhaps LOGGING was a typo; she could have meant LAGGING, FLAGGING or FLOGGING.

(Bracketed items were written by Bob Hessen, who submitted this.)

I was born in Lapeer, Michigan, on 7 April 1957. I had no choice about whether, when, or where to be born, but I'm glad I was born when and where I was. With all due respect to my friends in other countries, the United States of America is the best place in which a person could live. No country in the history of the world offers such a splendid combination of opportunity, liberty (understood as the absence of constraint), security, and material prosperity. It's no accident that the movement is into this country rather than out of it. Critics of this country (such as Michael Moore) should mull that fact.

Saying that this is the best place in the world is not to say that it's perfect. There are still impediments to economic opportunity, most of them the result of well-intentioned but misguided governmental interventions in the economy. There are still people who hate others and try to hold them down. But where else can a person born with nothing rise to the upper echelons of the corporate world? Where else can a family go from working poverty to the professional ranks in two or three generations? Where else can a nobody such as Bill Clinton become the most powerful person in the world?

Gratitude is the emotion that normally functioning people feel when they have been given something they haven't earned or don't deserve. I have been given much by those who came before me and made this country such a wonderful, prosperous place. I am grateful to them. I express this gratitude in many ways, including setting a good example for succeeding generations. If you work hard, sacrifice, invest, and resist temptations of the flesh, such as mind-altering substances and irresponsible sex, you can accomplish anything. No other country in the history of the world allows personal merit to determine one's fate to the extent this country does. That, more than anything, is this country's genius. We are, quite rightly, the envy of the world.

To the Editor:

Nonreaders are unlikely to pick up a book after being called slugs by the National Endowment for the Arts and Andrew Solomon, who reports ("The Closing of the American Book," Op-Ed, July 10) that readers apparently are superior human beings as well: we visit more museums, attend more musical performances and do more charitable work.

The undeniable fact of dwindling readership is painful to book lovers and to those of us who work in book publishing, but it's not surprising. News and entertainment executives, campaign strategists, publicists, gossip columnists, politicians, advertisers, bloggers, headline writers and other students of narrative have become very adept at creating attention-grabbing conflicts among compelling protagonists and antagonists. It's hard for books to hold their ground against infotainment, a far more efficient story-delivery system.

Will there come a day when books don't matter to anyone? Impossible to say. Regardless, stories and narrative will live on.

VERONICA WINDHOLZ
New York, July 10, 2004
The writer is a senior copy editor at Random House.

Steve Rugg has an excellent post (see here) about the anti-Semitism of the Left. How did it become politically correct to hate Israel? The Left's hatred of America (and all that it stands for) transmutes into hatred of our allies, perhaps on the principle that the friend of my enemy is my enemy. It's sickening. If Leftists think this country is so bad, they should leave it. But they won't, because they have no integrity. They want what this country provides to them but are unwilling to shoulder any burden in its behalf. They don't know the meaning of terms such as "honor," "loyalty," or "gratitude." They are leeches on the body politic.

(1) If determinism is true than [sic; should be "then"] our actions are determined by some previous state of the universe. Determinism implies that if the state of the universe at some time to is So, then consistently with this and with the laws of nature at any other time t there is only one state St of the universe. So we do not have free will.

(2) If determinism is not true then our actions may happen by pure chance. How could we be said to act freely if our action did not flow from our character, our beliefs and desires, and hence be determined by a state of the universe that included our neurophysiological 'programming'? If an action happened by pure chance, might we not find ourselves, to our horror, doing something we did not want to do, such as eating a toad? Would not such indeterminism take away our freedom?

(3) Conclusion: whether the universe is deterministic or indeterministic we do not have free will.

(J. J. C. Smart, Ethics, Persuasion and Truth [London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1984], 113)

Dear Keith,

I have enjoyed your columns on Tech Central Station from day one. I often find my self rereading some of them, and your columns are one of the reasons I am hooked on TCS. I am glad I found your blog. However, I will probably skip over anything on your blog about animal rights just as I skip over anything about same-sex unions on Andrew Sullivan's blog.

Now exchanging views with a doctor of philosophy could be akin to wrestling against Randy Savage but, I will stick my toe, perhaps my foot into the ring (and not into my mouth) concerning animal rights with this question-slash-statement:

Don't other animals eat other animals? Aren't there more animals being consumed by non-human animals (including bugs, fish, etc; a non-human is a non-human) than by humans? Don't they do it as a function of biology and evolution? While they haven't evolved with a moral sense as deep as ours don't they have some moral sense? Isn't it possible that some animals know the difference between life and death and some even show signs of grieving (such as the elephant)? Don't we have some kind of duty to stop their immoral behavior too since that is where most of the "killing" occurs?

Respectfully,
Christopher Pugh
Austin, TX

Did you know that conservatives are happier than liberals? The studies bear it out. See here. (Thanks to Dr John J. Ray of Dissecting Leftism for the link.)

Here is a superb essay about liberal media bias. Thanks to James Taranto (Best of the Web Today) for the link. Incidentally, suppose there were liberal media bias. Liberals would be the least likely to see it, wouldn't they? Conservatives would see it. I certainly see it, since I was a liberal for a long time and am now a conservative.

I'd like to welcome Lee to the blogosphere. He sent me a nice letter this morning telling me that he appreciates my posts on animals. Thank you! I needed that in light of the abuse I've been taking. Lee's blog looks terrific, with many thoughtful posts. I will put a permanent link to it on the left, in the green area. I hope some of my readers do the same.

I've received several letters from people who don't like my posts on animals. Some of them are nasty. One reader said I was on the verge of becoming Andrew Sullivan, who is obsessed with homosexuality. I replied that, just as I stopped reading Sullivan's blog, he should stop reading mine.

But I've been thinking. My decision to stop reading Sullivan's blog was based on more than the fact that he writes a lot about homosexuality. That doesn't bother me. What bothers me is that he won't listen to reason. He tars opponents of homosexual "marriage" as "the religious right," implying that the only basis for objecting to homosexual "marriage" is religious. He knows better. Many of us oppose it on secular grounds. I also think Sullivan is disingenuous in calling himself a federalist (he's not) and in not taking seriously the possibility—indeed, the high probability, according to many constitutional scholars—that the Full Faith and Credit Clause of the Constitution will be used to force homosexual "marriage" on all states. When I made this argument to him, he retorted, "It's never been applied to marriage." I guess that means it can't be or never will be.

In short, I object to Sullivan's irrationality, not to his interest in homosexuality.

Am I as irrational about animals as Sullivan is about homosexuality? I don't think so. I'm perfectly happy to argue about the moral status of animals, which I've been doing for more than two decades. I teach the subject. I've published essays on it. I don't resort to name-calling or manipulative rhetoric, as Sullivan does. I take pains to make relevant distinctions, to get my facts right, and correctly to characterize my opponents' arguments before criticizing them. I'm committed to rational persuasion as a means of social change.

I believe that meat-eaters have inconsistent beliefs. They believe (1) that suffering is intrinsically bad; (2) that, as such, it must be justified; and (3) that the animals whose flesh they consume were made to suffer in its production. It follows logically from these beliefs that meat-eating is morally questionable. In philosophical terms, there is a strong prima facie case against consuming animal products. And yet, when I point this out, I get everything from denial to evasion to ridicule to abuse.

In my judgment, the most important moral issue in the world today is the status of nonhuman animals. Nothing else, even war, comes close. Why, believing this, would I forbear to discuss it? That readers of my blog prefer not to hear me discuss it may signify discomfort on their part. They grew up eating meat and enjoy it. They don't like feeling guilty as they consume animal flesh. I make them feel guilty, for I remind them that they're not living up to their own moral principles about not harming others. Please note: I'm not imposing my values on you. I'm imposing your values on you. Don't react defensively or angrily. I'm trying to help you. I want you to have a coherent set of beliefs. I want you to live up to your moral principles. I want you to be a good person. Ask yourself whether your values commit you to changing your behavior. Follow my reasoning. If there's something wrong with it, say so.

Some people say that animals don't count for as much as humans or that they don't have the same rights as humans. That's irrelevant. If animals have any moral status at all—if they're anything more than objects—then it's wrong to eat them, because eating them is unnecessary. But surely, as sentient beings, they have at least some moral status. Any being that can suffer has an interest in not suffering. Isn't it a requirement of rationality, and therefore of morality, that one take all relevant interests into account before acting? Is your interest in satisfying your taste sensations more important than an animal's interest in not suffering? That, ultimately, is the question you must confront. Don't evade it. Confront it. The unexamined life is not worth living.

Extinction, n. The raw material out of which theology created the future state.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

Keith,

There is a better way for spam filtering [see here]. The only downside is that no one is incorporating it into webmail type interfaces (like I will assume you are using through Earthlink). This approach, Bayesian filtering, can be trained to your tastes as to what is spam or not. The indispensable Steven DenBeste has a very good explanation as does one of Bayes' biggest fans (as pertained to spam), Paul Graham. I use Mozilla Thunderbird as an email client, which has such a filter included. There are scores of others as well as many plugins for the omnipresent MS Outlook.

It is my belief that nothing government can do will stop the spammers. It is, therefore, our task as users to solve the problem. Since spamming is incredibly cheap, filters are probably our only option to stopping the spam.

Hope this helps and keep up the good work!

Cordially,
Mark Westerman
McKinney, TX

My friend Bill Keezer is about to reach the 3,000-visitor mark on his blog. Congratulations, Bill! Keep up the good work. Your posts are unfailingly interesting.

On a pragmatic view the error of Roe v. Wade is not that it read the Constitution wrong—for there are plenty of well-regarded decisions that reflect an equally freewheeling approach to constitutional interpretation—but that it prematurely nationalized an issue better left to simmer at the state and local level until a consensus of some sort based on experience with a variety of approaches to abortion emerged.

(Richard A. Posner, Overcoming Law [Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 1995], 404-5)

Len Carrier opposed the war in Iraq, and he thinks he has truth on his side. See here for my reply.

You can tell a lot about a person—maybe too much—by the music that moves him or her. I like many different types of music, from jazz to new age to classical to heavy metal, but I'll always be a headbanger. I thought I'd outgrow my love for heavy metal, but I love it as much as ever at the age of forty-seven. I have a vast collection of compact discs, plus a subscription to the online music service Rhapsody. My entire music collection of almost 7,000 songs is on a palm-sized device (a Rio Karma), which I use during my bike rides. I have to be careful while riding, because music transports me to other worlds. Cars and potholes exist in this world.

I don't view music as a commodity, as some people do. When I say that I listen to music by Aerosmith, Ratt, Black Sabbath, or Kiss, I'm told that I'm living in the past. I should keep up with new music and new artists. But there's only so much time in the day. My music-listening time is limited. Why would I listen to something I don't like (but might come to like) rather than something I do like?

"But aren't you tired of that old music?" I'm asked. Not at all. Do we tire of our old friends? I like visiting my old friends. Music, to me, is a friend to be visited and revisited, not a commodity to be consumed. I almost always hear something new and different with each playing of an album or song. You have to listen deep rather than shallow. Don't listen to music the way you watch television. Don't let it wash over you. Music is more like reading than watching television. It's active, not passive. Engage it. Learn from it. Be inspired by it.

The quality of popular music declined with the advent of Music Television (MTV) in the early 1980s. MTV made appearance and style as important as musical quality. It commodified and fetishized music. Many of today's "stars" are inept at singing or playing their instruments. Indeed, there seems to be a competition developing to see who sings the worst. (William Hung leads.) If listeners don't demand excellence, they won't get it; and they can't demand it if they don't know it when they hear it. We are nation of musical illiterates.

There are people who dismiss all rock-and-roll musicians as inept and all rock-and-roll music as mediocre. This is idiotic. Rock has produced many geniuses, such as Jimi Hendrix, Pete Townshend, David Bowie, and Eddie Van Halen. Those who don't know a genre are incompetent to make distinctions within it. I'm incompetent to evaluate wines, for example. To me, wine—all wine—is just fermented grapes. Yes, some rock music is crap, technically speaking; but not all of it is. If you want an example of technically sweet heavy metal, listen to "King," by King's X, from their 1988 album Out of the Silent Planet. This song moves me, and that's all you need to know about me.

Someone just wrote to advise me not to let "the animal thing" become to me what homosexuality is to Andrew Sullivan. With all due respect, this misses the point of what I've been saying. Let me try again.

Andrew Sullivan has every right to say what he wants on his blog. Those who read his blog have every right to stop reading it. I decided to stop reading it. Rather than try to persuade him to let up on something that's obviously important to him, but which grates on me, I exercised my prerogative to find other reading material, of which, fortunately, there is no dearth.

The letter-writer should do the same, and so should you. If my posts on animals bother you in any way, please, please, please stop reading my blog. It's not the blog for you! It's not the blog for you! I write about what interests me, not about what interests you. I write about what I think is important, not about what you think is important. Suppose my readership fell to five visitors a day (I think my mother and a few friends will continue reading my blog no matter what, if only to see whether I'm alive). So what! I wrote a journal for sixteen years with no expectation that anyone would read it. I publish scholarly essays that nobody reads (as does every academic). I write for myself, not for others. If you find my blog informative or entertaining, by all means read it. But stop telling me what to write about! Jesus.

Has anybody noticed how spammers defeat tools such as EarthLink's spamBlocker? I've set my e-mail account up in such a way that, unless I give someone permission to get through to me, his or her mail gets put into a "suspect e-mail" folder. Whenever I see that I have mail in that folder (I check often), I go to it. If a particular item is spam, I click "this is spam." I'm then given a choice. I can keep just that particular e-mail address from sending me mail or I can keep the entire domain from sending me mail.

A moment ago, for example, I got spam from a domain entitled 263.com. That has to be a spam domain, so I gladly said (in effect) "Don't let any mail from that domain get through to me." But sometimes I get spam from a reputable domain, such as verizon.com or yahoo.com. I can't very well block all mail from those domains, so all I can do is block the particular address.

There's the rub. The first part of the address on these domains is a meaningless collection of letters and numerals. Spammers are evidently creating many e-mail addresses. Perhaps they use each one only once, knowing that it will be blocked by many or most users. Suppose there were a limit of five symbols in the first part of the e-mail address and that it could use only letters. That means there are 26 x 26 x 26 x 26 x 26 possible e-mail addresses.

I'm probably fighting a losing battle, but it sure feels good to say, throughout the day, "Don't let any mail from that address (or that domain) get through to me. Ever again. Never, ever again."

If you're a baseball fan (i.e., if you have a brain), you know that the annual All-Star game will be played this evening in Houston. A couple of years ago, some flack in the commissioner's office—maybe the commissioner himself—decided that the game had to "mean" something. It had become too insignificant in the eyes of the players, a meaningless, playful exhibition. After being robbed of a home run by Mike Cameron, Barry Bonds lifted him in jest before taking his position in the field. You would never see such a display of jocularity during the regular season.

The flack in question decided that the league that wins the All-Star game will have home-field advantage in the World Series. This, it was thought, would provide the necessary incentive to play hard and try to win the game, something fans presumably want to see.

The problem is, there is no home-field advantage in the World Series. It's a myth. Let me explain.

The World Series format is, and long has been, AABBBAA. The first two games of the best-of-seven series are played in team A's park, the third, fourth, and fifth games in team B's park, and the sixth and seventh games in team A's park.

Every series goes either four, five, six, or seven games. We don't know at the outset how many games it will go. Suppose it goes four games. Then there will have been two games in each team's park. No advantage. Suppose it goes five games. Then there will have been three games in team B's park and two in team A's park. Advantage to team B. Suppose it goes six games. Then there will have been three games in each team's park. No advantage. Suppose it goes seven games. Then there will have been four games in team A's park and three in team B's park. Advantage to team A.

Let's take stock. In two of the scenarios, there is no home-field advantage. In one scenario, the team that begins at home has an advantage. In one scenario, the team that begins on the road has an advantage. It's a wash! Where's the overall advantage?

Notice: I'm assuming that there's an advantage in playing at home. What I deny is that the structure of the series confers an advantage on either team. I have always thought that the format of the World Series is a thing of beauty (and genius) precisely because it does not confer a home-field advantage. In other sports, such as hockey, there is a distinct structural advantage for one team. The National Hockey League's structure is AABBABA. This confers an advantage on team A. (Reason it out.)

Don't you find it interesting that, until a couple of years ago, nobody mentioned home-field advantage in connection with the World Series? I've been a rabid baseball fan since 1967, when I was ten, and I never heard anyone say that the team that started the World Series at home had an advantage. So either (1) there's always been an advantage, but nobody noticed it or saw fit to mention it, or (2) there's no advantage. Which do you find more likely?

"Ah," you say, "but why would Major League Baseball say there's an advantage if there's no advantage?" Can you say "marketing"? Major League Baseball will do almost anything to increase television ratings. This is just the latest money-making gimmick. No purist should fall for it. That journalists fall for it—and many of them do—shows their lack of critical, independent judgment. They are the commissioner's useful idiots.

To the Editor:

In "Bye-Bye, Bush Boom" (column, July 6), Paul Krugman claims that "jobs are still very scarce, with little relief in sight."

But the data show exactly the opposite.

More Americans are working today than ever before, and the economy is larger than ever before and growing at the fastest pace since President Reagan's second term.

The employment-population ratio, which Mr. Krugman cites as evidence for his views of a weak economy, has been in decline since early 2000, when President Clinton was still in office.

Not surprisingly, this coincides with many of the signs of recession that appeared in the final year of Mr. Clinton's term.

Furthermore, the graying of America leads to a natural decline in the fraction of the population in the work force. This is a demographic trend of an aging population, not an economic phenomenon.

Mr. Krugman goes on to suggest that higher tax burdens, more government spending and more redistribution of incomes are the keys to a stronger economy. Respectfully, I disagree.

Ultimately, the voters will decide. I believe they will affirm that lower taxes on America's workers result in stronger economic growth.

BILL THOMAS
Chairman
House Ways and Means Committee
Washington, July 6, 2004

This week's link is to DenisDutton.com.

Positive, adj. Mistaken at the top of one's voice.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

So you're over 65. Too late to start an exercise program, right?

Nope. Age is no excuse, according to a 12-year study of 3,206 seniors that appears in the American Journal of Preventive Medicine. Even exercising occasionally—walking, swimming, picking mushrooms—reduced their chances of early death by 28 percent. And participants who were physically active once a week—faster walks, swimming, jogging, cycling—reduced their chances by 40 percent.

But interestingly, neither more frequent (twice a week) nor more vigorous activity further reduced the mortality risk.

(Leslie Garcia, "Benefits of Exercise Are Ageless," The Dallas Morning News, Healthy Living section, 13 July 2004, 1E)

KBJ:

In today's Buffalo News is a letter to the editor that contains an interesting syllogism. The letter, in its entirety, reads:

If you believe the logic of "Fahrenheit 9/11," I can prove to you that Ray Charles is God. God is love. Love is blind. Charles is blind. Charles is God. Michael Moore's political propaganda film can be summed up in four words: guilt by loose associations. Chet Fox, M.D., Amherst [NY]

Why is this syllogism wrong? (1) "Blind" is used in different senses, one metaphorical and one literal. (2) "Is" is used in different senses. (3) In form, this syllogism reads, "A is B. B is C. D is C. Therefore, D is A." I am not sure, but I think this particular form of unjustified inference is called "the fallacy of the undistributed middle."

Mark Spahn (West Seneca, NY)

You may post this.

Maybe the above pseudo-syllogism is familiar to philosophers, but it was new (and therefore amusing) to me.

Len Carrier is my co-blogger on The Ethics of War. He opposed the war in Iraq. What would Len say if, during our discussion of the war, I said that Iraqis don't count for as much, morally speaking, as Americans? He would deny it. He would say that Iraqis can suffer just as much as Americans, that their lives are just as valuable, and so forth. If I persisted, he would say that I'm racist, ethnocentric, or unacceptably nationalistic. He would say that I draw a moral line in an arbitrary place.

But that's exactly what he's doing with respect to animals. Len says he eats meat. But this inflicts terrible suffering on the animals whose flesh he consumes. If Len believes that suffering has moral significance, then its infliction must be justified. What is his justification for inflicting it on animals? Do his tastes for animal flesh justify it? Would my taste for Iraqi flesh justify killing and eating them? Would my interest in sport shooting justify my picking off random Iraqis?

People who discount or disregard the interests of other races are racists. People who discount or disregard the interests of the other sex are sexists. People who discount or disregard the interests of other nationalities are nationalists. People who discount or disregard the interests of other species are speciesists. If Len says that animals don't matter, then I say that Iraqis don't matter. If the former is rational, then so is the latter.

Len's professed concern for innocent Iraqis rings hollow when he blithely inflicts terrible pain and suffering on innocent animals for his gustatory pleasure. And please, Len, don't say that animals aren't innocent. What are they, guilty? Animals are innocent in the same sense in which Iraqi children are innocent. If the interests of the latter must be taken into account in our deliberations, then so must the interests of animals be taken into account. Your eating meat shows that you do not take them into account. You are a walking contradiction who cannot be taken seriously. Before you respond to this post, read—and think about!—this essay by Mylan Engel.

7-12-84 . . . Finally, the big news of the day: Walter Mondale, the presidential nominee-to-be of the Democratic party, has named Geraldine Ferraro as his running mate. For the first time in history we may have a female vice president! I must say that I was elated over the news. From what I have heard about Ferraro, she is smart, tough, and an eager campaigner. Mondale and Ferraro should give Reagan and Bush a run for their money this fall. But the selection of Ferraro has significance beyond the immediate campaign. What it says is that women, as a class, have made it to the "bigtime"—that women can do anything and go anywhere in this world. Ferraro, like Sally Ride and Sandra Day O'Connor before her, will provide a role model for young girls all over this country, and one day we will think nothing of having a female president or Supreme Court chief justice. Thank you, Walter Mondale, for turning a dream into reality for millions of women, and for opening the doors in this country to qualified individuals of both races and sexes. It is about time.

Some of you may roar with laughter when you read this, but I think Ron Reagan—the former president's son—will be president some day. He's young; he has plenty of time. Already, he is intelligent, articulate, humorous, and wise to the ways of politics. I could listen to him talk all day long. Ron will be speaking about stem-cell research at the Democrat National Convention in two weeks. It will give him a national stage. Remember: His father didn't get into politics until late in his life. Even if Ron has no political aspirations at this time, things could change.

[T]he concept of welfare rights is invalid. There is no warrant for claiming rights to food, shelter, and medical care, to income maintenance, child support, and retirement pensions, at taxpayer expense. Such rights cannot be justified by appeal to freedom, to benevolence, or to community. They do not expand but curtail freedom—that of program clients as well as of taxpayers. They make charity compulsory, undermining any genuine benevolence donors might have toward the poor. They replace the voluntary bonds of a society of contract with the coercive power of the state, undermining genuine community. The concept does not provide a valid rationale for the welfare state; it provides a mere rationalization for the coercive transfer of wealth.

(David Kelley, A Life of One's Own: Individual Rights and the Welfare State [Washington, DC: Cato Institute, 1998], 151)

Did you know that John Edwards's little boy is a product of in vitro fertilization? Elizabeth Edwards is his mother only in the sense that she bore him. The egg came from another woman. See here.

To the Editor:

In one sentence, in parentheses, Paul Krugman (column, July 9) seems to excuse insurance companies from any responsibility for covering catastrophic medical costs: "That's not a moral condemnation; they are, after all, in business."

Moral values underlie all policy, indeed all societal issues. Businesses, government, socioeconomic groups and individuals all need to be subject to a common sense of decency and set of ethics. The Bush administration's partial and unbalanced ethical values, in spite of all the pious pronouncements, give new meaning to both hypocrisy and neglect.

The clear moral issue is: Is society, including all its components, responsible for the health and welfare of its citizens and, if so, how is that best accomplished?

No elements of society, including business and government, should be exempt from efforts to achieve this common moral good.

ALAN GURWITT, M.D.
Newton, Mass., July 9, 2004

Here is a New York Times story about homosexual "marriage." John Kerry says he opposes the Federal Marriage Amendment because it would deprive states of the right to decide for themselves whether to allow homosexual "marriage." What he doesn't grasp, apparently, is that, without an amendment, states won't be able to decide. Courts will force every state to allow it. As usual, he's marking out nonexistent ground in an effort to be all things to all people.

Every social movement has both moderates and extremists. The difference is what they are willing to do—or, more precisely, not willing to do—in pursuit of their objective(s). They share ends, but not means. Some extremists are willing to harm others to achieve their goals, thinking, perhaps, that nothing will ever change if one works within the system. This was the agonizing choice Dr Martin Luther King Jr faced. Given his goal of a colorblind society, which means were best calculated to bring it about? He could have worked within the system, but he believed that that would never change anything, since the system was rigged against people of color. So he decided to disobey the law. But this disobedience, he insisted, had to be nonviolent. It was a form of communication, an initiation of dialogue with those who stood in the way of a just society.

Moderates face a dilemma. Either they repudiate their extreme colleagues or they do not. If they repudiate them, they risk alienating them and losing their energy and resources. If they do not repudiate them, they risk alienating their audience. Many people favor social change but are not willing to endorse or accept just any means to that change. They are, in philosophical terms, deontologists. They believe that evil may not be done that good may come. They believe that the end does not justify the means.

Many people, such as my Ethics of War co-blogger Len Carrier, sincerely believe that the war in Iraq was a mistake. They may believe that some good has come from the war, but not enough to justify the costs. Others take it to absurd extremes, propounding conspiracy theories about why the United States went to war, making personal attacks on those who waged it, and doing everything possible to undermine the war effort. When presidential candidate Wesley Clark was asked to repudiate some of the wild assertions made by one of his supporters, Michael Moore, he refused to do so. This was unfortunate (and telling), for it made it seem as though he were just as irrational as Moore, and nobody wants an irrational president. I know I don't.

You're probably wondering why I'm talking about war in Iraq in a post ostensibly about animals. It's because there's a parallel. Many people believe that factory farming and other horrific practices must be abolished. But by what means? Some people advocate working within the system, trying to muster support for enactment, amendment, or repeal of laws. Others are impatient with this, thinking, as King did, that nothing will ever change by working within the system. Some of the impatient ones take extreme measures, such as destroying property or injuring or killing persons. This is a serious problem for the animal-liberation movement. If the aim is to change minds, resorting to violence may be counterproductive.

I'm a moderate when it comes to animal liberation. I believe that in the long run, the most effective means to social change is rational persuasion. Not force, not coercion, not manipulation. The people I persuade will manifest their changed attitudes and beliefs both in their personal lives (by changing their diets, for example) and in their political behavior. We live in a democracy. Each of us is entitled to vote our consciences. My goal is to work on consciences. I believe this is also the goal of Peter Singer. Perhaps we philosophers are naïve, but we are committed to reason. We would rather not persuade at all than persuade by nonrational means.

Some people are frustrated by the slowness of this process. But look how much progress has been made in the past hundred years. The moral and legal status of nonhuman animals has improved considerably. No, it hasn't changed nearly enough. There is a great deal of work yet to be done. It breaks my heart to see how animals are abused and neglected day in and day out. But I'm convinced that resorting to violence against person or property in the name of animals is not the way to go. It may be personally satisfying, but it doesn't ultimately help the animals we profess to care about.

I hereby repudiate organizations such as the Animal Liberation Front (ALF) and Earth First! to the extent that they advocate, endorse, tolerate, or engage in violent actions. Everyone who cares about animals should do the same. This is not a betrayal of the cause. It is fidelity to the cause. The betrayers are those who, looking only at the short run or their own satisfaction, undermine public support for the goal of protecting animals.

Prevaricator, n. A liar in the caterpillar state.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

Would somebody please explain to me the purpose of music criticism? A couple of months ago, while channel surfing on cable television, I came across a program (I believe it was on VH1) entitled something like "The Worst Songs of All Time." As snippets of the songs were played (accompanied by video), music critics commented. Among the highest-rated songs on this list (which means the worst songs) were "Everybody Have Fun Tonight," by Wang Chung (from Mosaic [1986]), and "We Built This City," by Starship (from Knee Deep in the Hoopla [1985]).

I don't get it. I love these songs! They are among my all-time favorites. What could it mean to say that they're among the worst? That the instruments aren't well-played? But they're superbly played, by any reasonable standard. That the songs are poorly constructed? But they're beautifully constructed. That nobody likes them? But lots of people like them. I can't think of any objective feature of these songs that would justify putting them on this list.

Tastes differ. Some people like anchovies; some don't. Some people like whiskey; some don't. Some people like opera; some don't. Some people like reggae; some don't. Some people like Shakespeare; some don't. Why don't the critics simply say that they don't like these songs? I could live with that. I'm sure I don't like some of the songs they like, either. They made it seem as though these songs are intrinsically defective.

De gustibus non disputandum. There's no disputing about tastes. Someone asked Mark Twain what he thought of the music of Richard Wagner. He replied, "It's better than it sounds." To me, that's all that matters: how it sounds. That self-appointed "experts" don't like what I like only shows that they have bad taste (from my point of view); it says nothing whatsoever about the music.

The other day, while shopping at Kroger (a grocery store), I noticed a machine that dispenses paper money for coins. "Get cash for your change," it said. Since when are coins not cash? I thought the distinction was between cash and checks, with both paper money and coins (change) counting as cash. Let me check my dictionary. Yup. The Oxford American Dictionary and Language Guide (1999) defines "cash" as "money in coins or bills, as distinct from checks or orders."

The same generic-specific confusion occurs with "verbal" and "oral." The former means in words (as opposed to other symbols, such as body language); the latter means spoken (as opposed to written). If you say that you have a verbal agreement with X, you are saying that your agreement is in words. Almost all agreements are in words, so you haven't added anything (or very much) by using the adjective "verbal." You should say that you have an oral agreement, or, better yet, a spoken agreement.

One more thing, since I'm on a roll. We hear much these days about weapons caches. The word is pronounced "cashes," not "cashays." A cache ("cash") is "a hiding place for treasure, provisions, ammunition, etc." Lewis and Clark cached ("cashed") many items during their outbound journey to the Pacific so that they could recover and use them on the return trip.

Okay, one more thing. Philosophers use the term "cash" in a special way, as when they say, "This [concept] needs to be cashed out." It's another way of saying "analyzed." I don't know this, but I suspect the term derives from cash, as in money. To cash a check is to reduce it to (transform it into) money. To cash out a concept is to reduce it to (transform it into) other, more familiar, concepts.

Since morals . . . have an influence on the actions and affections, it follows, that they cannot be deriv'd from reason; and that because reason alone, as we have already prov'd, can never have any such influence. Morals excite passions, and produce or prevent actions. Reason of itself is utterly impotent in this particular. The rules of morality, therefore, are not conclusions of our reason.

(David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature: Being an Attempt to Introduce the Experimental Method of Reasoning into Moral Subjects, Book III ["Of Morals"], Part I ["Of Virtue and Vice in General"], Section I ["Moral Distinctions Not Deriv'd from Reason"], Paragraph 6 [1740])

You may have guessed that what set the irate reader off was my post on beef (see here). Please note that I get letters praising me—many of them effusively—for my posts on animals. I get letters even from nonconservatives saying that, while they like my animal posts, they don't care a whit for my politics. They read me in spite of my conservatism, not because of it.

"But don't you have a blog devoted just to animal ethics?" you ask. Yes, I do, and I usually post animal-related material on both blogs. Animal Ethics is my special blog. AnalPhilosopher is my general blog. The general encompasses the special. If you read AnalPhilosopher regularly, you will have a good idea not only of what my beliefs and values are, but of what kind of person I am. You may not like this person, but it's me.

Almost everything I write pisses someone off. If I strove to avoid giving offense, I'd have to stop writing. So I don't worry about pissing people off. I write what I want. That's my prerogative. Your prerogative is to stop reading my blogs if they make you mad. It's a beautiful system, when you think about it. Nobody is made to do anything he or she doesn't want to do. The blogosphere is a marketplace of ideas. Shop around. Compare prices. Kick the tires. Don't settle for less than the best. Oh yes, TANSTAAFL (There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Lunch).

I think some people who read my blog (AnalPhilosopher) like my conservatism. These people tend to be meat-eaters, and many of them don't like being reminded that meat-eating is wrong. (If they don't think it's wrong, or at least morally suspect, why would they be angered or threatened by my saying it is? They should simply dismiss me as a crank.) There are probably people who think conservatism implies that meat-eating is morally permissible. Since I deny this, they must think I'm confused. "Look at this: a conservative who says animals matter! What a dolt!"

I'm not confused. I've probably thought more about this than anybody. Conservatism is a political morality. It is about the proper relation of citizens to the state and to each other. As such, it takes no position on the moral status of animals, who lack the capacity for citizenship. (The political and moral communities are not coextensive, as babies and the senile prove. The moral community includes, but is not limited to, the political community.) There are many matters, even many moral matters, that conservatism takes no position on.

Nor should it be thought that conservatism and religiosity imply each other. One can be an atheistic conservative, as I am, or a religious liberal. That many or most conservatives are religious is an accident, logically speaking. So while my concern for animals may puzzle, disappoint, frustrate, or anger you, it is not a symptom of cognitive dissonance. There is no inconsistency between my conservatism, my atheism, and my concern for animals. Any combination of these is possible. That you're not used to seeing this particular combination doesn't mean I'm confused. It means I'm unusual.

It might be thought that since (1) conservatism exalts tradition and (2) meat-eating is traditional, conservatism endorses meat-eating. But conservatism doesn't exalt all traditions, any more than liberalism exalts all exercises of liberty. Liberals draw the line on actions that harm others. Conservatives draw the line on traditions that harm others. Meat-eating harms animals. It is no more defensible, morally speaking, than human chattel slavery, which is also traditional.

Perhaps I'm deluded, but I like to think that I provide an exemplar of a thoughtful conservative, and that this is why people read my blogs. If my views on the moral status of animals anger you, perhaps that is because, deep down, you know that your meat-eating is morally wrong. I anger you because I remind you that you have bracketed this matter, leaving it unexamined. I'm sorry, but the unexamined life is not worth living. I gladly play the role of Socrates, the Athenian gadfly. I do not aim to please. I aim to provoke. If you don't like being provoked or don't want to risk being provoked, then don't stop by my street corner. There are many other street corners in the blogosphere. I hope you find one that's agreeable.

Steve Headley has been blogging up a storm. I enjoy his posts on the Kerry-Edwards campaign.

Another reader of this blog wrote to complain about my posts. I told him to stop reading my blog, just as I stopped reading Andrew Sullivan's blog. Please, if you're not getting anything out of my blog, don't read it. Really. Just delete the icon from your desktop or remove the link from your favorites. Both of us will feel better. If you continue to read my blog and get pissed off by something I've written, you have nobody to blame but yourself. In legalese, you have assumed the risk.

Overeat, v. To dine.

Hail, Gastronome, Apostle of Excess,
Well skilled to overeat without distress!
Thy great invention, the unfatal feast,
Shows Man's superiority to Beast.
John Boop.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

According to yesterday's Dallas Morning News, the following sentence was part of an editorial opinion in a recent issue of The Christian Century magazine:

Democrats are in danger of becoming the party of the nonreligious. In a country where religion is part of the mainstream, this is clearly a political liability.

The editorial is said to be "In reaction to a poll showing that 59 percent of those who consider themselves 'very religious' plan to vote for George W. Bush, compared with 35 percent for John Kerry."

The Democrat party is dying a slow death—for three reasons. First, there is a deep human urge to believe in the supernatural, and specifically in an afterlife in which one will regain contact with loved ones. Modernity may have made atheism tolerable, or even respectable, but it has made little inroad on the prevalence or intensity of religious belief. As long as there are humans, there will be theistic religion. Any party that minimizes the importance of religion is swimming against a strong current.

Second, the Democrat party has come to stand for egalitarianism. But this, too, goes against the grain, for people do not appreciate having their hard-earned wealth taken from them against their will and distributed to others. This isn't greed, as liberals like to proclaim, for most people are charitable to a fault. It's resentment toward coercion by do-gooders. No system of government that redistributes wealth beyond a certain point will long survive. No party that advocates such a thing will stay competitive in the electoral arena.

Third, Democrats are aborting their children at a higher rate than Republicans. This means fewer children to be indoctrinated.

Keep it up, Democrats, and you'll be a fringe party.

To the Editor:

Regarding Barbara Ehrenreich's July 8 column about Bill Cosby's criticism of black youth ("The New Cosby Kids"), Mr. Cosby is not attacking black youth but is holding their parents accountable for irresponsible parenting and for not setting clear expectations and priorities.

Mr. Cosby has put his money where his mouth is. The discomfort that his comments may cause is due to their truth.

Both sets of my grandparents started with nothing, faced de facto and de jure discrimination but focused on the long-term goal of educating their children. I am honored and humbled to be raising the third generation of their legacy.

Thanks to their hard work and sacrifice, I can well afford the "bling bling" attractive to today's youth, but whether I have $1 or $100 in my wallet, my husband's and my first priorities are to our son's education and to raising a responsible and productive member of society. I respect and applaud Mr. Cosby's candor.

CAROL R. COOK
Seattle, July 8, 2004

To the Editor:

While Bill Cosby was a bit harsh in his remarks about black youth, he was pointing out the effects of bad parenting rather than attacking the youngsters themselves.

Parenting skills are learned behavior, and by devaluing the importance of child-rearing and the role of a family structure in the larger society, we have contributed to a rise in the number of children who acquire their values from the streets and pop culture rather than in the home.

Poverty may place a person at risk for becoming a bad parent, but wealth alone does not a good parent make, as evidenced by any number of undisciplined, spoiled, directionless children of economic privilege.

While it may "take a village," through better schools, health care and opportunities for young people, the community alone cannot compensate for a neglectful home environment during the formative years.

WALTER NAEGLE
New York, July 8, 2004

To the Editor:

Bill Cosby was and continues to be a role model for children of all races. He grew up in a section of Philadelphia that was hardly a rich man's spawning ground. Whatever he has achieved has been through hard work and perseverance, and to suggest that he lacks compassion for the working poor is ridiculous.

What could be wrong with proposing responsibility and accountability?

CHARLES R. COOPER
New York, July 8, 2004

To the Editor:

Barbara Ehrenreich says Billionaire Bill is bashing and attacking poor blacks. Perhaps Bill Cosby could have been more thoughtful or used different words, but he spoke the truth, and it is long, long overdue.

I wish that more prominent black Americans, as well as white, would step up to the plate and speak out about the destructiveness of hip-hop and rap music, one of the primary reasons so many of our black children and young adults look, act and sound like heathens, poor and middle class alike.

PAMELA A. HAIRSTON
Washington, July 8, 2004

To the Editor:

As an African-American, I was not at all appalled by Bill Cosby's remarks, because I knew them to be extracts from something greater.

Let's face it: education is no longer considered the ticket out of impoverishment. Ambitions in entertainment and sports have usurped the prestige that educational goals once held.

Bill Cosby, the entertainer, the billionaire, is hardly bashing anyone, as Barbara Ehrenreich says. He is saying, in his way, what disturbs many.

DOUGLAS HATCHER
New York, July 8, 2004

Two hundred years ago today, Aaron Burr killed Alexander Hamilton in a duel. See here for Ron Chernow's essay on the incident.

If you eat beef, you are willing to inflict great suffering on sentient beings in order to satisfy your trivial desires. You are also risking your health (and that of your children). The dangers of meat-eating are well-known (though seldom digested). I suppose that if you still eat beef in the face of these gruesome facts—one other-regarding and one self-regarding—nothing will dissuade you; but perhaps disgust will. Read this to see what you're ingesting. Maybe your next steak or hamburger won't taste so good.

To the Editor:

Re "In Times of Trouble, the Founding Fathers Sell Well" (Week in Review, July 4):

It is interesting to see that in the never-ceasing battle of the founding fathers, Thomas Jefferson's relationship with his slave Sally Hemings is being used as a weapon to make the case against him.

Historians have always known that Jefferson owned slaves. Yet that fact did not keep Jefferson, Washington or Madison out of the pantheon of American heroes.

So if one owns black women, makes them work in the fields for no pay, sells them, as did all of these men, that's O.K. But if one is found to have slept with one of those women and had children (and the woman and her children were freed), one's reputation is summarily diminished.

There is something wrong with this picture. If Jefferson is to be led out of the pantheon, these other men should follow right behind him.

ANNETTE GORDON-REED
New York, July 6, 2004
The writer is the author of a book about Thomas Jefferson and Sally Hemings.

If you do something regularly, even something you love, you'll get burned-out (or suffer burnout) eventually. "Burn-out" (an adjective) is defined as "physically or emotionally exhausted" (Oxford American Dictionary and Language Guide [1999]). "Burnout" (a noun) is defined as "physical or emotional exhaustion, esp. caused by stress; depression; disillusionment" (ibid.). Blogging is no exception. See here. (Thanks to Blogger for the link.)

In case you're wondering, I'm nowhere near burnout, despite having blogged every day since 5 November (a period of over eight months). I don't rule it out, however. As much as I loved running when I took it up in earnest in 1996, it wore me down, physically and mentally. It became increasingly hard to do the training runs that were essential to performing at a high level. Now, having been diagnosed with sacroiliitis (inflammation of the sacroiliac joint), even my body is protesting. I'm glad I gave it my all during the first few years of running. If and when I have to quit, I will have no regrets. That's how life should be lived.

If you're thinking of vacationing in Texas, this site may be of interest. By the way, notice the slogan: "Texas. It's like a whole other country." If it were up to me, I'd omit the word "like."

I'm relieved to see that Ally Eskin agrees with my feminization post. See here. Ally is eminently sensible, despite being red-headed. By the way, Ally just reached the 5,000-visitor mark. Congratulations, Ally! I'm not surprised that you have so many readers already. Keep it up.

Caviler, n. A critic of our own work.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

The Closing of the American Book

By ANDREW SOLOMON

A survey released on Thursday reports that reading for pleasure is way down in America among every group—old and young, wealthy and poor, educated and uneducated, men and women, Hispanic, black and white. The survey, by the National Endowment for the Arts, also indicates that people who read for pleasure are many times more likely than those who don't to visit museums and attend musical performances, almost three times as likely to perform volunteer and charity work, and almost twice as likely to attend sporting events. Readers, in other words, are active, while nonreaders—more than half the population—have settled into apathy. There is a basic social divide between those for whom life is an accrual of fresh experience and knowledge, and those for whom maturity is a process of mental atrophy. The shift toward the latter category is frightening.

Reading is not an active expression like writing, but it is not a passive experience either. It requires effort, concentration, attention. In exchange, it offers the stimulus to and the fruit of thought and feeling. Kafka said, "A book must be an ice ax to break the seas frozen inside our soul." The metaphoric quality of writing—the fact that so much can be expressed through the rearrangement of 26 shapes on a piece of paper—is as exciting as the idea of a complete genetic code made up of four bases: man's work on a par with nature's. Discerning the patterns of those arrangements is the essence of civilization.

The electronic media, on the other hand, tend to be torpid. Despite the existence of good television, fine writing on the Internet, and video games that test logic, the electronic media by and large invite inert reception. One selects channels, but then the information comes out preprocessed. Most people use television as a means of turning their minds off, not on. Many readers watch television without peril; but for those for whom television replaces reading, the consequences are far-reaching.

My last book was about depression, and the question I am most frequently asked is why depression is on the rise. I talk about the loneliness that comes of spending the day with a TV or a computer or video screen. Conversely, literary reading is an entry into dialogue; a book can be a friend, talking not at you, but to you. That the rates of depression should be going up as the rates of reading are going down is no happenstance. Meanwhile, there is some persuasive evidence that escalating levels of Alzheimer's disease reflect a lack of active engagement of adult minds. While the disease appears to be determined in large part by heredity and environmental stimulants, it seems that those who continue learning may be less likely to develop Alzheimer's.

So the crisis in reading is a crisis in national health.

I will never forget seeing, as a high school student on my first trip to East Berlin, the plaza where Hitler and Goebbels had burned books from the university library. Those bonfires were predicated on the idea that texts could undermine armies. Soviet repression of literature followed the same principle.

The Nazis were right in believing that one of the most powerful weapons in a war of ideas is books. And for better or worse, the United States is now in such a war. Without books, we cannot succeed in our current struggle against absolutism and terrorism. The retreat from civic to virtual life is a retreat from engaged democracy, from the principles that we say we want to share with the rest of the world. You are what you read. If you read nothing, then your mind withers, and your ideals lose their vitality and sway.

So the crisis in reading is a crisis in national politics.

It is important to acknowledge that the falling-off of reading has to do not only with the incursion of anti-intellectualism, but also with a flawed intellectualism. The ascendancy of poststructuralism in the 1980's coincided with the beginning of the catastrophic downturn in reading; deconstructionism's suggestion that all text is equal in its meanings and the denigration of the canon led to the devaluation of literature. The role of literature is to illuminate, to strengthen, to explain why some aspect of life is moving or beautiful or terrible or sad or important or insignificant for people who might otherwise not understand so much or so well. Reading is experience, but it also enriches other experience.

Even more immediate than the crises in health and politics brought on by the decline of reading is the crisis in national education. We have one of the most literate societies in history. What is the point of having a population that can read, but doesn't? We need to teach people not only how, but also why to read. The struggle is not to make people read more, but to make them want to read more.

While there is much work do be done in the public schools, society at large also has a job. We need to make reading, which is in its essence a solitary endeavor, a social one as well, to encourage that great thrill of finding kinship in shared experiences of books. We must weave reading back into the very fabric of the culture, and make it a mainstay of community.

Reading is harder than watching television or playing video games. I think of the Epicurean mandate to exchange easier for more difficult pleasures, predicated on the understanding that those more difficult pleasures are more rewarding. I think of Walter Pater's declaration: "The service of philosophy, of speculative culture, towards the human spirit is to rouse, to startle it to a life of sharp and eager observation. . . . The poetic passion, the desire of beauty, the love of art for its own sake, has most; for art comes to you professing frankly to give nothing but the highest quality to your moments as they pass." Surely that is something all Americans would want, if we only understood how readily we might achieve it, how well worth the effort it is.

Andrew Solomon is the author of "The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression."

Dr Bill Vallicella has a terrific post about political correctness. See here.

"Bullet-Resistant Vests: Dressed to the Nine Millimeters," Scientific American 276 (March 1997): 132.

David J. Bederman, Scott M. Christensen, and Scott Dean Quesenberry, "Of Banana Bills and Veggie Hate Crimes: The Constitutionality of Agricultural Disparagement Statutes," Harvard Journal on Legislation 34 (winter 1997): 135.

Justin Leiber, "Helen Keller as Cognitive Scientist," Philosophical Psychology 9 (1996): 419.

David Shier, "Direct Reference for the Narrow Minded," Pacific Philosophical Quarterly 77 (September 1996): 225.

Markita D. Cooper, "Between a Rock and a Hard Case: Time for a New Doctrine of Compelled Self-Publication," Notre Dame Law Review 72 (1997): 373.

It is important for biologists to know some physics, not just because some piece of physics may be relevant to the problem they are working on, but because physics is the best exemplar we have of the kinds of theories that can exist, and of the ways they may explain reality.

(John Maynard Smith, Shaping Life: Genes, Embryos and Evolution, Darwinism Today, ed. Helena Cronin and Oliver Curry [New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1999 (1998)], 45)

I've had the following letter to the editor tacked to my bulletin board for many years:

"Thanks," Nokia and Southwestern Bell, for the ad making a man look stupid and inept in front of his children when the knot fails to hold the Christmas tree on the car, thus advancing further feminization of our nation.

J. B. DOAK,
Dallas

Is there anything to this? Are there people who try to make men look stupid, inept, or silly? I believe there are. I've seen two television advertisements recently in which a man's wife rolls her eyes at him. In one, he is riding a stationary bicycle while fantasizing about racing in the Tour de France. The woman is "saying," by her body language, that he's childish. One wonders why she married him. Perhaps she should divorce him.

Women do plenty of things that men consider stupid, inept, silly, wasteful, or pointless. I won't make a list, but rest assured that painting one's fingernails and toenails is on it. I'm sure you have your own list. But you don't see television advertisements portraying this; nor will you, since it's politically incorrect. One must not mock women. That is the feminist imperative.

Sad to say, but men are legitimate objects of scorn, mockery, and ridicule. Not just men, either, but masculine culture. The things men love, such as sport, competition, gadgets, rugged (or fast) vehicles, and getting dirty, are seen as uncouth and embarrassing. Women have become the norm, men the deviation from the norm. I'm sorry, but I'm not a woman. I'm not wired like a woman. I don't think or feel like a woman. I'm not interested in female things or activities. I will not apologize for my maleness, for my interests, for my activities, or for my desires—and I don't appreciate having these things belittled.

Stand up, men! J. B. Doak is right. If we allow women to mock us, it's only a matter of time before they rule us.

I can see by my watch, without taking my hand from the left grip of the cycle, that it is eight-thirty in the morning. The wind, even at sixty miles an hour, is warm and humid. When it's this hot and muggy at eight-thirty, I'm wondering what it's going to be like in the afternoon.

(Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance [New York: Bantam Books, 1981 (1974)], 3)

To the Editor:

Re "Moore's Public Service," by Paul Krugman (column, July 2):

I am not sure where Paul Krugman and Michael Moore were on 9/11, but I was with President Bush for almost two hours.

As commander of the 8th Air Force, I was present when President Bush stopped to deliver a message to the American people at Barksdale Air Force Base.

Throughout my career, I have seen the best and the worst of people under extreme pressure. President Bush arrived at Barksdale deeply saddened and obviously concerned, but he was a man on a mission, courageous and decisive. He was totally in command.

I have kept relatively quiet about my experiences with the president on 9/11, but I cannot sit back and allow Hollywood and the media to rewrite history. I was there, and I consider myself a good judge of leadership. We were fortunate that President Bush was our commander in chief on 9/11.

THOMAS J. KECK
Tucson, July 5, 2004
The writer is a retired Air Force lieutenant general.

I don't recall any discussion with any person on any topic that has frustrated me as much as my discussions with Len Carrier on the morality of war in Iraq. I like Len, personally, but we are unable to communicate. My sense is that others are frustrated as well (one of them, sadly, stopped contributing to the blog). I may be banging my head against a wall, but let me try one more time.

Suppose one wishes to form a view about the morality of the war in Iraq. A rational person would think up reasons (grounds) both for and against the war. This will require reflection on war in general, not just the war in Iraq in particular. One will try to work out a coherent set of reasons—a theory—that one can apply to any war.

Once one arrays the reasons for and against war, one must assign weights to them. Some reasons may be weightier than others. In the end, one must put the weighted reasons for war on one side of an imaginary scale and the weighted reasons against war on the other. So one might say, of a particular war, that the balance of reasons supports (or opposes) it.

I keep asking Len to engage in this process. Every time I do, he mentions either President Bush or the Bush administration. (See here for the latest mention.) He says, for example, that President Bush's reasons aren't good ones. But I don't care about that. It's irrelevant. It's entirely possible that President Bush's reasons for the war are bad ones but that there are, in fact, good reasons for the war. Why should we think that President Bush latched onto the correct theory, much less that he articulated it correctly?

I have no idea why Len keeps mentioning President Bush or the Bush administration. Does he think that, in thinking through the morality of the war in Iraq, one need consider only the president's articulated reasons? That simplifies the task, to be sure, and it keeps the focus on a person one might despise (as Len seems to), but the aim is not to do things simply; it's to do them thoroughly and well. For the last time, Len, let's discuss the reasons for and against the war in Iraq, whether they were the articulated reasons of President Bush or not. Forget about President Bush's reasons, motives, intentions, and other mental states. I'm talking about things like punishing a war criminal, enforcing United Nations resolutions, liberating a people, destroying weapons caches, stabilizing the Middle East, promoting democracy, and so forth.

I want you to tell me what you consider good reasons for war. I want your theory of justified war. Once you provide a list of reasons, we can ask whether they apply to Iraq. At no point during this discussion will we need to mention President Bush or anyone else in his administration. We're doing philosophy, not politics.

Flag, n. A colored rag borne above troops and hoisted on forts and ships. It appears to serve the same purpose as certain signs that one sees on vacant lots in London—"Rubbish may be shot here."

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

If you desire President Bush's defeat this fall, I have a request to make of you. See here.

I keep hearing that President Bush "misled" the American people into war. But this implies both of the following:

1. That those who were "misled" supported the war; and
2. That, had they not been "misled," they would not have supported the war.

If either of these conditions does not apply to you, then you were not misled and should not say that you were. You were misled only if you relied to your detriment on misrepresentations, and you relied to your detriment on misrepresentations only if they caused you to support a war you would not otherwise have supported.

I suspect that very few of those who claim to have been misled by the president were in fact misled, which makes one wonder why they say they were. Oops! I know why they say they were. It makes President Bush look bad, which affects his likelihood of being reelected. The goal is to defeat him at all costs.

By the way, don't say that, while you personally weren't misled, lots of others were, and that this reflects badly on the president. How do you know lots of others were? How many people do you know, seriously, who satisfy the two conditions? How many people supported the war as a result of what they were told by the president but would not have supported it had they not been "misled"? I think most of those who say they were misled did not support the war, and hence weren't misled.

Please don't say that, even if not many people were misled by the president, he tried to mislead. How do you know that? Where's your evidence? Suppose he did try to mislead. That would have no bearing on the justification for the war; it would only reflect badly on President Bush as a person, or as a president. But bad people or presidents can act rightly.

In short, the "He misled us" meme is a red herring.

Are you as tired of "kudos" as I am? Hardly a day goes by when I don't see a letter to the editor that begins with "Kudos," as in "Kudos to the Dallas City Council for filling the potholes on my street." Even the editors of my local newspaper (The Dallas Morning News) like the term, judging from how often they use it. Or maybe they just lack imagination and vocabulary.

The word "kudos," according to The Oxford American Dictionary and Language Guide (1999), means "glory; renown." Here is the usage note: "Kudos, from Greek, is a singular noun meaning 'praise, honor.' However, because of its -s ending, it has come to be used as a plural noun meaning 'compliments, congratulations.' As a result, the (etymologically incorrect) singular form kudo, also meaning 'praise, honor,' has come into existence."

What a mess! Next time you're tempted to say "Kudos to X," say "My compliments to X" or "Congratulations to X" or "Well done, X." I can say from experience that it's possible to live a long, happy, worthwhile life without ever uttering this ugly word.

It's time to quiz Kerry

By Eileen McNamara, Globe Columnist

I did not know that Senator John F. Kerry believes that life begins at conception. Now that I do know, I do not understand 20 years of votes supporting a woman's right to terminate an unwanted pregnancy.

The presumptive Democratic presidential nominee's explanation over the weekend implied that his civic duty in a pluralistic society required him to ignore his conscience. "There is something called freedom of conscience in the Catholic Church," Kerry told an Iowa newspaper. "I oppose abortion, personally. I don't like abortion. I believe life begins at conception. But I don't take my Catholic beliefs, my article of faith, and legislate it on a Protestant, on a Jew, or an atheist who doesn't share it. We have separation of church and state in the United States of America."

So, Kerry's conscience is not at odds with church teaching, just with his voting record? By any measure, that is an odd definition of conscience. Forget church teaching for a moment. Conscience is a moral concept, as well as a religious one, after all. If you believe that life begins at conception, doesn't your conscience compel you to vote in concert with that belief? Just as, if your conscience tells you capital punishment is state-sanctioned murder, you would vote against the death penalty? Or if you believe that gay marriage is a fundamental civil right, you would vote against a constitutional amendment to ban it?

I, and I suspect many others who support legal abortion, had mistakenly assumed that, on this very personal issue, Kerry's conscience was at odds with the teaching of his church. His consistent record in favor of abortion rights, family planning, and reproductive freedom was, I thought, a courageous reflection of an independent mind.

Now, I don't know what to think. I cannot respectfully disagree with him as I do with an abortion opponent whose conscience prompts her to work to unseat lawmakers like Kerry. I understand her. She is acting on principle, lobbying to change laws antithetical to her conscience. I don't understand him, voting consistently in opposition to what he now tells us is one of his core beliefs.

This really isn't about religion. Catholics have abortions at about the same rate as other women in the United States, just as they use birth control, have premarital sex, and get divorced. Those choices certainly put them at odds with their church, but most, I think, would say their consciences are clear. As much as it objects to such "cafeteria Catholics," the hierarchy knows that not every Catholic accepts all of its teachings, that if it required that level of conformity, the pews would be empty. What is Kerry saying about his conscience? That it conforms in church, but dissents during roll calls?

I wanted to ask Kerry more about this, but he was busy yesterday, trumpeting a vice presidential pick that the NARAL Pro-Choice America, the lobbying arm of the abortion rights movement, called "a dream ticket for a woman's right to choose."

Betsy Cavendish, interim president of NARAL Pro Choice America, was offended that I wanted to discuss Kerry's abortion comments on "such a great day." Why, she asked, would I spin a "minor comment" into a "minicyclone" when abortion rights supporters should be keeping our "eye on the prize, defeating Public Enemy Number One, George Bush." For all we know, she said, Kerry sees life as a continuum, with conception the acorn and childbirth the oak. Shouldn't she ask him, I wondered. "Why?" she asked. "Our job is to get Bush out."

It is that kind of talk that makes me despair that the electoral process can ever be a useful means to debate divisive issues in America. Abortion remains so contentious, in part, because each side is so intent on holding its ground that neither acknowledges how difficult this issue is for many Americans. I, for one, would like to know more about how difficult an issue it is for John F. Kerry and his curious conscience.

Steve Rugg is one of my favorite bloggers. I'm proud to have helped him get started. Read this post by Steve and you'll see why. By the way, Steve, I like the new look of your blog.

By the time he was 40, he was known as "Old Abe", and some of the younger lawyers thought of him as one of the fossils who wanted to keep down new talent. (In the name of Heaven, do these things never change?) However he may have acquired the technique, this railsplitter from the backblocks of America became as great a sculptor of language as English has known. In 272 words at Gettysburg, he effectively changed the Constitution and redefined the American nation. The world will long remember what he did there that day. Just as Hemingway claimed that all American novels were the offspring of Huckleberry Finn, so all political prose may claim a descent from the Gettysburg address.

(Geoffrey Gibson, "Once Were Lawyers," The Australian Law Journal 73 [January 1999]: 52-71, at 61-2 [endnote omitted])

Law, n.

Once Law was sitting on the bench,
And Mercy knelt a-weeping.
"Clear out!" he cried, "disordered wench!
Nor come before me creeping.
Upon your knees if you appear,
'Tis plain you have no standing here."

Then Justice came. His Honor cried:
"Your status?—devil seize you!"
"Amica curiae," she replied—
"Friend of the court, so please you."
"Begone!" he shouted—"there's the door—
I never saw your face before!"
G. J.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

Len Carrier, my co-blogger on The Ethics of War, replied as follows (see here) to my latest post:

Here's a rejoinder to Keith's claim that all the reasons offered for supporting the war might be deficient in themselves, but taken together they could make a good case for war. Since Keith is an announced atheist, I'll pose this question for him. What would you say to a theologian who claimed that all the arguments for God's existence were deficient, but taken together they present a good reason for God's existence?

I would ask what the theologian means by "deficient." If the theologian means that they have no tendency to support theism, then obviously the theologian would be on shaky ground in claiming that, together, "they present a good reason for God's existence." Five zeroes do not add up to five.

But if the theologian means that no single argument proves the existence of God, it could very well be the case that, taken together, they "present a good reason for God's existence." Five ones add up to five. Len may not be up to date on philosophy of religion, but one prominent theist, Richard Swinburne, has made precisely this sort of cumulative argument. I quote:

One unfortunate feature of recent philosophy of religion has been a tendency to treat arguments for the existence of God in isolation from each other. There can of course be no objection to considering each argument initially, for the sake of simplicity of exposition, in isolation from others. But clearly the arguments may back each other up or alternatively weaken each other, and we need to consider whether or not they do. Sometimes however philosophers consider the arguments for the existence of God in isolation from each other, reasoning as follows: the cosmological argument does not prove the conclusion, the teleological argument does not prove the conclusion, etc. etc., therefore the arguments do not prove the conclusion. But this 'divide and rule' technique with the arguments is inadmissible. Even if the only kind of good argument was a valid deductive argument from premisses known to be true it would be inadmissible. An argument from p to r may be invalid; another argument from q to r may be invalid. But if you run the arguments together, you could well get a valid deductive argument; the argument from p and q to r may be valid. The argument from 'all students have long hair' to 'Smith has long hair' is invalid, and so is the argument from 'Smith is a student' to 'Smith has long hair'; but the argument from 'all students have long hair and Smith is a student' to 'Smith has long hair' is valid.

That arguments may support and weaken each other is even more evident, when we are dealing with inductive arguments. That Smith has blood on his hands hardly makes it probable that Smith murdered Mrs Jones, nor (by itself) does the fact that Smith stood to gain from Mrs Jones's death, nor (by itself) does the fact that Smith was near the scene of the murder at the time of its being committed, but all these phenomena together (perhaps with other phenomena as well) may indeed make the conclusion probable. (Richard Swinburne, The Existence of God, rev. ed. [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991], 13 [footnote omitted])

Notice Len's slyness. He used "deficient" rather than "insufficient," which suggests nothingness rather than, as intended, not-everythingness. Nice try, Len. Your bias is showing. Perhaps you should think before you write; and perhaps you should be more charitable to those who disagree with you about the war.

To the Editor:

So our choices are between a president who started an unnecessary war, and two senators who voted to give him the power to do so?

John Kerry is so busy playing to George W. Bush's base that he has forgotten his own.

If I were George Bush, I would be thrilled knowing that a serious debate concerning the war in Iraq will not be a part of this campaign, given that both his opponents are compromised in this regard.

MARY ANNE BERKERY
Brooklyn, July 7, 2004

As I said yesterday (see here), I've heard many critics of the war in Iraq say that if the reason for the war had been humanitarian, the United States would have intervened in other places besides Iraq, such as Sudan. Since it hasn't, the reason for the war wasn't humanitarian. But if it wasn't humanitarian, what was it? The clear implication is that there were other reasons—perhaps sinister reasons—for the war. This gives rise to various conspiracy theories, none of which can be taken seriously. The problem with conspiracy theories is not that they're false, but that they're unfalsifiable. Just as, to a theist, everything counts in favor of God, to a conspiracy theorist, everything counts in favor of the conspiracy.

This form of argument recurs. If the reason for the war had been to punish a war criminal, then why is the United States not punishing other war criminals? If the reason for the war had been to destroy weapons caches, then why is the United States not destroying the weapons caches of other countries, such as North Korea? If the reason for the war had been to promote democracy, then why is the United States not intervening militarily in other nondemocratic nations? If the reason for the war had been to enforce United Nations resolutions, then why is the United States not enforcing other United Nations resolutions? Ad nauseam.

The people who make these arguments are confused. They think that there must be one sufficient reason for our intervention in Iraq. But why should that be? Why can't there be multiple reasons, none of which is sufficient (or necessary), but which, taken together, suffice? Most decisions human beings make are like this.

Another possibility, besides confusion, is that the critics are trying to deceive. Their goal is to end the Bush presidency. Nothing will stand in the way of their goal. They believe that if they cast doubt on President Bush's motives for waging war, they will undermine his electoral prospects. One way to cast doubt on his motives for waging war is to say (or imply) that his stated reasons are not his real reasons. One way to accomplish this is to "refute" each proffered reason by citing cases in which the reason applies but the United States has not waged war.

I hope you see that this is fallacious reasoning. Shooting down each of five reasons as insufficient does not mean that the five of them, together, are insufficient. If you believe the war in Iraq was wrong, say so and be prepared to support your belief. But don't mischaracterize the arguments in favor of war for dialectical or rhetorical advantage. That's intellectually dishonest. No single reason sufficed for intervening militarily in Iraq. There were—or could have been—many reasons for it.

One thing that dismays me about contemporary political discourse is its lack of discipline. There are two forms of intellectual discipline: consistency and accuracy. Consistency means not contradicting oneself. Accuracy means making only true assertions. A minute ago, I heard Michigan Governor Jennifer Granholm sing the praises of John Edwards on MSNBC's Hardball. She said he hasn't been in Washington long and is therefore not "poisoned" by it. Chris Matthews pointed out that John Kerry has been in Washington for two decades. Therefore, by her standard, he has been poisoned.

She seemed surprised by this and tried to explain away the contradiction. It was pathetic. You can't both praise John Edwards for being an outsider and not blame John Kerry for being an insider. If being an insider is bad, as she strongly implied, then John Kerry is a bad candidate. But she doesn't think he's a bad candidate. With all due respect, she has a bad case of cognitive dissonance (or disingenuousness). But that seems to be the norm for politicians and political activists these days. They're willing to say anything, even if it contradicts other things they've said and even if it doesn't conform to the facts.

The remedy for this abuse of discourse is for citizens to be analytical and critical. Unless we hold politicians to basic standards of consistency and accuracy (not to mention fairness and decency), they will have no incentive to change. They will continue to say whatever they think will garner votes. They will continue to use manipulative rhetoric. They will continue to play fast and loose with the truth. They will continue to treat us—the voters—as useful idiots.

My mother, who will be seventy years old in two months, is a terrific cook. She learned to prepare and cook food while growing up on a farm in Michigan. As far as I know, she never had lessons. Everything she knows was picked up through trial and error, by word of mouth, or by reading cookbooks. Cooking skill is vastly underrated in our society, in part because of feminism. Instead of exalting women's cooking skills, feminists belittle them as beneath women's dignity. I'm not suggesting that only women can or should cook. I'm suggesting that women who can cook, or who enjoy cooking, should not be disparaged for it.

I'll never forget hearing my mother say, "What do you boys want me to bake today?" She enjoyed baking—from scratch. She could make any kind of pie, any kind of cake, any kind of cookie, even exotic confections like gingerbread men, cinnamon rolls, pastries, and puddings. It's a wonder her four boys are not fat! I guess we burned the calories off playing on our twenty-acre homestead—or else working, for we always had chores to do.

Mom was a miracle worker with potatoes, which I still love. We never had the same type of potatoes on consecutive days. One day we had baked potatoes, then French fries, then mashed potatoes, then scalloped potatoes, then fried potatoes. Mom made homemade biscuits. It's been years since I had any, but I can still smell and taste them. I won't comment on the meat, since I haven't eaten any in more than two decades, but Mom always had meat on the table. This was a point of pride with her, for meat signifies affluence, or at least absence of poverty. To have meat on the table every day, to her, is to be making it.

It may surprise you that I have no cooking skills. I guess I wasn't paying attention to how Mom prepared and cooked food. I still ask her simple things, such as how long to boil or bake something. One time I called her up in Michigan to ask how much salt to put in something. "Just a little," she said. This puzzled me. "What does that mean? A pinch, a teaspoon, a tablespoon?" She laughed. Cooking is effortless for her. Intuitive. For me, it's a daunting task, no different in principle from solving a quadratic equation.

Thanks, Mom, for all the wonderful foods you prepared for me. I wish I could have some of your strawberry shortcake right now, or a German sweet chocolate cake, or a raspberry pie, or a cinnamon roll, or a steaming biscuit. Ah well, I'll have to settle for popcorn this evening. But hey, I make the world's best popcorn!

Slang, n. The grunt of the human hog (Pignoramus intolerabilis) with an audible memory. The speech of one who utters with his tongue what he thinks with his ear, and feels the pride of a creator in accomplishing the feat of a parrot. A means (under Providence) of setting up as a wit without a capital of sense.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

My friend Butch had to euthanize his ten-year old canine companion, Justice, who developed a prostate problem that affected other organs. Having lost my Ginger nearly four years ago, I know how Butch feels. If it's any consolation, Butch, you gave Justice a great life. You were loyal to him to the end, as he was to you throughout his life. He is no longer in pain. Don't reflect on what you lost or on what might have been. Reflect on what you and Justice had—the quiet times you spent together, the things you did, the joy and comfort each of you gave the other. Rest in peace, Justice.

Dr John J. Ray continues to blog at an insanely high level. If you need exercise for your brain (which of course everyone does), you can't do better than visit John's blog every day. John is the Richard Simmons of the blogosphere—without the goofy outfits.

How many times have you heard it said, in response to a claim that the war in Iraq was justified on humanitarian grounds, that if that were so, we would be intervening in other countries, such as Sudan? I hear it all the time. It's usually said with a triumphal air, as if it demolishes the claim.

It not only doesn't demolish the claim; it doesn't touch it. To say that there was a humanitarian ground (reason) for the war in Iraq isn't to say that it was a sufficient ground (reason), for there may be other considerations that militate against it.

A principle states a good reason for action. For example, Joel Feinberg says that "[i]t is always a good reason in support of penal legislation that it would probably be effective in preventing (eliminating, reducing) harm to persons other than the actor (the one prohibited from acting) and there is probably no other means that is equally effective at no greater cost to other values" (Joel Feinberg, Harm to Others, vol. 1 of The Moral Limits of the Criminal Law [New York: Oxford University Press, 1984], 26 [italics in original; footnote omitted]).

Feinberg calls this the harm principle. He points out that the harm principle states neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition for justified penal legislation. It's not necessary because there may be other adequate grounds for penal legislation, and it's not sufficient because there may be good reasons not to prohibit and punish even harmful conduct. (If the harm is trivial and the cost of enforcement significant, then the conduct, arguably, should not be prohibited.)

Let me coin a term: "the humanitarian principle." This principle says that it is always a good reason in support of military intervention that it would probably be effective in preventing (eliminating, reducing) atrocities (i.e., human-rights violations) and there is probably no other means that is equally effective at no greater cost to other values. This principle functions like Feinberg's harm principle. It states neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition for justified military intervention. It's not necessary because there may be other adequate grounds for intervention, and it's not sufficient because there may be good reasons not to intervene even when doing so would prevent atrocities.

Whether the United States should intervene militarily in Sudan depends on many factors. The humanitarian principle simply puts one morally relevant consideration on the scale. There may be other considerations on the other side of the scale that, together, outweigh this side. Iraq and Sudan are different nations. Their situations may differ in morally relevant respects. Different principles may therefore come into play. If the United States is to be consistent, it should bring all morally relevant principles to bear on each situation. This does not mean that the result will be the same in all cases. Intervention in Iraq may have been justified, all things considered, even though intervention in Sudan is not.

To summarize: There may be reasons to intervene in Iraq that do not apply to Sudan, and there may be reasons not to intervene in Sudan that do not apply to Iraq. Therefore, that one reason—humanitarianism—applies to both nations does not resolve the issue of whether the United States should intervene in Sudan.

Please note that I'm not making a case here; I'm clarifying the logic of the arguments that need to be made. This is a distinctively philosophical task. I hope you see how important it is. Philosophers who argue rather than clarifying arguments are wasting their training and talents. Do I take substantive positions on the war? Yes. Read my blogs. To that extent, I'm acting in a nonphilosophical capacity. Not everything a philosopher does is philosophical! What I'm advocating is that philosophers do at least some philosophy. Get out of the arena from time to time and reflect on what's happening in the arena.

To the Editor:

Re "You Are How You Eat" (Op-Ed, July 6):

Giuliano Hazan, a cooking teacher and author from Verona, teaches his students the Italian way of eating.

Pasta is a "must." According to Mr. Hazan, "Italian men with flat bellies and women with hourglass figures" dine well despite all the pasta and rice they consume. Low-carb diets are not their thing!

Their secret, however, is that portions are smaller, and they eat a great deal more slowly than we do, thus not feeling the need to overindulge.

It is not unusual for businesses to close for three hours at lunchtime for people to dine leisurely.

Emulating the Italians instead of gulping down our food the way so many Americans do appears to make so much more sense.

We can learn from "Old Europe" more civilized and satisfying ways of enjoying our meals and perhaps obtain the added bonus of achieving and maintaining better health.

LEONORE BROOKS
Whitestone, Queens, July 6, 2004

To the Editor:

At 6 foot 3 and 175 pounds, I am the American who is anti-Atkins. I fear no carbohydrate. (Three bagels in a morning? No problem.)

I may be lucky. But I'm active and eat vegetables. More important, I'll never ride an elevator for anything shorter than a five-floor trip.

My mom was right: Stop lying on the couch, and do something.

DAVID ABRAHAM
Washington, July 6, 2004

Choices . . . shape the character of the choosing person by integrating the moral good or evil of his choices into his will. In this sense, morally significant choices are self-constituting: they persist in the character and personality of the chooser beyond the behavior that carries them out.

(Robert P. George, Making Men Moral: Civil Liberties and Public Morality [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993], 18)

Did I hear this right? Two American soldiers deserted and fled to Canada, and we're trying to extradite them? Unbelievable. Make them stay in Canada. That will be punishment enough.

John Kerry and John Edwards are attorneys. Richard Nixon was an attorney. Walter Mondale is an attorney. Michael Dukakis is an attorney. Bill and Hillary Clinton are attorneys. Ronald Reagan was not an attorney. Neither George W. Bush nor Dick Cheney is an attorney. Res ipsa loquitur.

Conservatives should take heart from John Kerry's selection of John Edwards as his running mate. If Kerry wins in 2004, he will be the candidate again in 2008, which means the earliest Hillary Rodham Clinton would be president is 2012, at which time she will be sixty-five years old. If Kerry loses in 2004, John Edwards will be the presumptive nominee in 2008, which means the earliest Hillary Rodham Clinton would be president is 2012. Hillary Rodham Clinton would be a disaster for this country.

Addendum: Here is Hillary Rodham Clinton's public comment on John Kerry's choice of John Edwards as his running mate. She would never say it, of course, but she wants them to lose. It's her only chance to become president.

Bill Keezer is an admirable man in many ways. I'm proud to know him. Bill recently resigned his longtime membership in the National Geographic Society because it has become, in his view, an advocate of a controversial political position rather than a fair-minded expositor and analyst of scientific issues. See here. I salute you, Bill. I know this must be a sad time in your life, but you have the consolation of knowing that you did the right thing.

Incidentally, this incident confirms my thesis that one cannot both be a player and be respected as an authority. You can be one or the other, but not both. Scientists, philosophers, and journalists are not content to remain above the fray. They want to be participants in the political affairs of the day rather than objective observers, analysts, and commentators. The result is loss of respect—and ultimately loss of authority. It's a classic case of shooting oneself in the foot.

One group of scholars predicts that President Bush will be reelected. See here. Note the disparagement of Al Gore. I love it! He was truly an awful candidate.

This week's link is to Political Theory Daily Review.

Anyone who cares about the amount of suffering in the world and wants to do something about it should be concerned about nonhuman animals. Nothing humans do to one another comes close to matching the enormity of what they do to animals. If you eat beef, for example, you are contributing quite directly to a practice that treats sentient beings as little more than flesh-making machines. If you don't believe me, read this story from The Washington Post. (Here is the same story on a different site.) If you're not crying by the end of it, you're not functioning properly.

I'm puzzled by people who care a great deal about the feelings and social status of homosexuals but not at all about animals. Even if you think animals count for less than humans, this is irrational. No homosexual is confined, castrated, and chopped to pieces while alive, the way the cow whose flesh you eat was. All you have to do, if you're a feeling, thinking person, is stop contributing to the horror. Stop rationalizing your behavior. Stop pretending that the animals whose flesh you eat lived happy lives and died painless deaths, for it's almost certain that they did not.

Riot, n. A popular entertainment given to the military by innocent bystanders.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

To the Editor:

Re "Dude, Where's That Elite?," by Barbara Ehrenreich (column, July 1):

I am one of those Americans the Republicans seem to be confident of having squarely in their camp. My husband is a blue-collar worker; we do not have college degrees; and we live in a rural area in a mobile home!

There are many people like us, however, who could never consider themselves conservatives.

We are card-carrying A.C.L.U. members, and we don't listen to country music. We have never been to a Nascar event, and we oppose the strong-arm tactics of the N.R.A. So by a Republican definition, our beliefs are more those of the "liberal elite."

Michael Moore speaks to our truth, not Bill O'Reilly. Republicans, beware! Dude, we are the "trailer park" elite!

SHERRY FORLAND
Bloomfield, N.M., July 1, 2004

Six months ago, I made my political predictions. I got the back half of the Democrat ticket right. See here. By the way, the Bush campaign must be delighted with John Kerry's choice of John Edwards, the trial lawyer, as his running mate. Edwards will become the symbol of all that is wrong with our legal system, and in particular the reason health care is so expensive. By the time this campaign is over, lawyers will have sunk even further in people's estimation.

In 'go to hell' and 'fuck you,' the words have been glued together by thoughtless use and mindless custom. We do not speak them the way we speak ordinary sentences. They are not said, but recited, like ave marias; so if I say 'damn you' and really mean you to be damned by a vengeful god at my behest, I have said 'damn you' the way I daily say 'let's eat,' and that is a way no one says 'damn you' any more, because curse-blue sentences are made of welded parts like the bumpers of automobiles, while with this revitalized 'damn you,' I have tried to make the phrase the way I once made ferris wheels and towers out of tinkertoy by following instructions.

(William Gass, On Being Blue: A Philosophical Inquiry [Boston: David R. Godine, 1976], 49)

Congratulations to Peg Kaplan over at what if? for reaching the 6,000-visitor mark. Peg says she's not giving up meat (see here). Is that because animals have no interests or because their interests are outweighed by your gustatory interests? If I kill and eat Mr Mollo, I do wrong; right? I wrong you, certainly, since you're interested in Mr Mollo's welfare. But don't I wrong Mr Mollo as well? And if I do, why aren't you wronging the animals whose flesh you eat?

There's a difference between having a right and being able to assert it. I sometimes hear it suggested that, since animals can't assert rights, they don't have any. But this is a non sequitur. Babies can't assert rights, but surely they have them. The senile can't assert rights, but surely they have them.

Rightholders can be represented by others. This is done every day when people hire attorneys (or when guardians are appointed for the incompetent). An attorney, literally, is someone who works at the turn of—i.e., in behalf of—another. Actually, attorneys both work in behalf of their clients and speak on behalf of their clients. There are plenty of people who are able and willing to work in behalf of and speak on behalf of animals. Thus, animals' not being able to assert their rights has nothing to do with whether they have rights to be asserted. Don't confuse the two.

Sometimes I think animals get shafted because they can't stand up for themselves. It's a case of might makes right. When humans are abused, they cry "injustice," "exploitation," "oppression," and "unfairness." This rallies others to their cause. Animals don't speak this language. But they have interests, like humans; and their interests can be wrongfully set back. The law is changing, albeit gradually. A hundred years from now, the legal status of animals will be very different from what it is today. Wrongs that now go unrecognized and unremedied will be seen for what they are and dealt with accordingly.

If you're skeptical that this will happen, look at slavery. It took a long time for people to see the evil in human chattel slavery, evil that seems as obvious to us as that there are people. It required a paradigm shift. It's only a matter of time before people see the evil in treating animals as property.

7-5-84 I was correct five years ago in predicting Jimmy Carter's ouster as President. Ronald Reagan came out of California with the business establishment and fundamentalist religion on his side and easily won the [1980] election. The dominant theme of the campaign was Reagan's rhetorical question "Are you better off now than you were four years ago"? Most people, I assume, answered the question in the negative, then proceeded to vote for Reagan. This year, if Reagan were to ask the same question, it would again stand him in good stead, for the economy has improved considerably in the past four years. But the election does not turn on domestic issues alone, and Walter Mondale (almost certainly the Democratic nominee, although it has yet to be formally decided) may ask a rhetorical question of his own: "Are you safer now than you were four years ago"? If people feel that Reagan is too belligerent in his attitude toward the Soviet Union, as I suspect, such a question may produce votes for Mondale. In any event, it promises to be an interesting election campaign. I predict that Ronald Reagan will be reëlected by a healthy margin; but then, I'm wrong more often than I'm right in these things, so don't pay any attention. [Reagan won in a landslide. He won the electoral vote, 525-13, and the popular vote, 58.8% to 40.6%. Mondale won only one state (his home state of Minnesota) and the District of Columbia.]

I was searching for Black Cow candy and came across this, which cracks me up. Click on the albums for large versions. Look at the song titles.

I found an Internet site that sells candy from the fifties, sixties, and seventies. How many of you miss the candy you ate as a kid? I sure do. What were those chocolatey things on a stick called, Black Cows? Mmm. I'd pay a lot of money for one right now. Remember those little bags of gum shaped like gold nuggets? How about Mary Janes, with peanut-butter centers? To die for! How about little wax bottles, filled with sweet, colored nectar? How about wax lips? How about Chuckles, Now & Then, Sugar Daddy, and those little drops of candy stuck to paper? How about candy cigarettes? (Talk about politically incorrect!) Back in my day, "penny candy" cost a penny. If you want a nostalgic trip, go here.

Another lawyer story currently making the rounds explains why one bar association's ethics committee decided to prohibit sex between attorneys and clients: "They didn't want the clients to be double-billed for essentially the same service."

(Kenneth Lasson, "Lawyering Askew: Excesses in the Pursuit of Fees and Justice," Boston University Law Review 74 [November 1994]: 723-75, at 749 [footnote omitted])

Old Benjamin and his co-bloggers must be taking the holiday off. Get back soon, guys. The average intelligence of the blogosphere has decreased during your absence.

To the Editor:

Which public does Paul Krugman suppose that Michael Moore serves? I am a Democrat disgusted by the Bush administration, but Mr. Moore does not serve me.

The utilitarian logic of Mr. Krugman's article is that even if the movie contains "flaws," Mr. Moore advances the cause of an alternative view of events that the media abandoned. But who really benefits from cheap arguments? If it was a disturbingly childish moment for the president to continue reading "My Pet Goat" after learning America was under attack, then it is an equally childish moment for Mr. Moore to develop a polemic in response.

But Mr. Krugman asks why a polemicist should be held to a higher standard than the president. The better question is, Who will emerge from the sandbox ready to fight lies, not with polar opposite lies, but with the hard work of sound, moral and well-reasoned arguments—in a word: truth?

NICOLE HANLEY
Bronx, July 2, 2004

Cannibal, n. A gastronome of the old school who preserves the simple tastes and adheres to the natural diet of the pre-pork period.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

Thank you for posting Janet Malcolm's excellent July 2 letter to The New York Times. There are four striking things about this letter:

1. Liberals like her still chafe at how conservatives "took out after Bill Clinton."

2. She and others like her are "demonizing George W. Bush."

3. There is no moral justification for this attack on Bush, or if there is she doesn't care. This is all about her party regaining political power. (Moral justification must seem very trite to a feminist who has defended a politician accused of sexual harassment 3 or 4 times.)

4. She fully agrees that Bill Clinton was a liar, but because he shared her politics that was OK. (All she is saying is give peace a chance.)

One interesting thing about this is the apparent irony that even though the author has parted company with morals the whole point of the letter is to justify her position. As a professor of philosophy could you shed any light on why an amoral person would feel a need to justify herself?

David Krueger
New Orleans, LA

Post if you like.

7-4-80 . . . I have decided to change my name to Keith Burgess-Jackson. Michigan law allows individuals to change their name in two ways: via the common law (i.e. by simply using a particular name) and by statute. The statute requires that the individual petition the county probate court for the change and then attend a hearing. This is the method I intend to use, because one receives a document showing the name change. Why do I want to change my name? Because the practice of taking the male parent's name is sexist; I want my name to show that I have two parents, each equal to the other. The other reason I want the name change is that I should be called what I want to be called, not what others or the legal system want me to be called. It is the choice of every person to take whatever name appeals to her.

Problems, you say, with children and wife? Not so. My mate will retain her own name, if she so desires, though if she wants to take my name, she may. The children, I would think, will be able to choose their own legal names when they grow older. Until that time, they can take either my name or that of their mother, or a combination of both. It's really no big deal, just that I am proud of my family—both sides of it—and want my name to reflect that identity.

7-4-84 Wednesday. The nation is 208 years old. Actually, we as a people are much older, but the nation itself began, symbolically, in 1776, when Thomas Jefferson and several other colonial "radicals" declared their independence from British rule. It must have been a soul-stirring time, a time to reflect on the course of human history and to decide to set a daring course of events in motion. Those events culminated in a war, a confederation of separate states, and finally, a constitutional republic. We are the better for having people like Jefferson, Adams, Washington, and Franklin as forebears. They were prescient people, people who could see into the future to a world that would be very different from their own, people who were able to tolerate and take strength in divergent opinions. They created a government that was adaptable, liberal, and balanced—in short, a government that respected human freedom while acknowledging the possibility of error and evil. I salute the makers of this government. It is not perfect, but it is close. It is the best sort of government that we can hope for in a fallible world, the bedrock from which changes for the better can be made.

William Clark fell in love with Sacagawea's baby, Jean Baptiste Charbonneau, during the Lewis and Clark expedition. Little Pomp, as Clark (a bachelor at the time) called him, was born in February 1805 at Fort Mandan, where the party wintered. By the time the expedition returned to Fort Mandan in the summer of 1806, Pomp was almost a year and a half old. Clark offered to raise him as his son and give him a white education, which he did. Here is my little Pomp, Lance Moldenhauer, son of my friend Butch. We had a ball today on the Fourth of July, riding through the Texas countryside. Here is an image of father and son.

Dear Prof. Burgess-Jackson,

As a libertarianish former English grad student, I really appreciated your recent post on diversity and your disappointed young undergrad. Regarding the merits of intellectual diversity in academia, I thought you might be interested in this review of a book entitled The Wisdom of Crowds by James Surowiecki.

Surowiecki's got some evidence that the aggregated wisdom of crowds often surpasses even the smartest individual crowd member's knowledge. In order for a crowd to manifest such foresight, however, he postulates that it must have three qualities: "It must be diverse; its members must be independent; and it must have a 'particular kind of decentralization'" (in the reviewer's words). Although the reviewer goes on to criticize large parts of Surowiecki's argument—and I have no idea whether he does a good job or not, since I haven't read the book yet—I keep coming back to these three conditions, and thinking of my recent experience in graduate school.

Certainly I found little evidence of diversity among the professors, and even less among the students—the lower their rank, in fact, the more desperately they seemed to need to prove their harder-left-than-thou credentials. And since (in English lit, at least) subjective criteria like political posturing and the social approval it apparently incurs are among the most powerful credentials a humanities academic can amass, there's not much room for independent thinking. And if by "decentralization" Surowiecki means that the crowd's members should not all depend on the same institution for their livelihoods, then it's pretty clear that academia—and particularly its "Cultural Studies" sector—flunks all three tests, and rather spectacularly at that.

I'm still not over my shock at the complete lack of curiosity displayed by my fellow grad students—and several of my professors—about intellectual frameworks other than their own comfortable "radical" critiques of "Western hegemony." At times, the intellectual atmosphere was claustrophobic, with entire seminars nodding eagerly at increasingly unlikely, and unquestioned, condemnations of "Western thinking styles" (linear/logical/"white"/"male"); "Western political institutions" (slavery/imperialism); and on and on.

Anyway, since my tour of duty I've been thinking hard, if not always clearly, about what humanities scholarship is really losing by swearing fealty to such a monolithic epistemology. I've wondered whether my feelings of loss and betrayal just reflect my own sadness at feeling like an outsider in the one place where I thought independence of thought would be welcomed, or if it's possible that my feelings are (at least partly) a real perception of severe mission drift in the humanities. Since I like to think of myself as striving for objectivity, I of course am always looking for evidence to support the latter interpretation, and I wonder if Surowiecki's got something useful here.

Happy Independence Day to you; hope you have some Texas-sized fun today. And thanks for your terrific blog(s); AP is part of my daily Internet rounds.

Best,
Rose Nunez (the ex-Naive Humanist)

To say that X is irrelevant to Y is to say that X has nothing to do with Y; that X has no bearing on the truth of Y; that X has no propensity to show that Y is true (or false). For example, if we're wondering whether Lance Armstrong won today's stage of the Tour de France and you say, "I like ketchup," I will say, "Irrelevant." And then I will wonder about your intelligence. But if you say that Lance has friends or relatives in the destination town, you will have cited a relevant consideration, for this may make Lance try harder to win the stage (to impress his friends or relatives), and we all know that success in any endeavor is a function of effort.

To say that X is relevant to Y is to say that X has something to do with Y; that X has a bearing on the truth of Y; that X has a propensity, however weak, to show that Y is true (or false). Relevance is a minimalistic concept. To say that X is relevant to Y is not to say that X makes Y probable, much less highly probable. It's to say, simply, that X is not irrelevant to Y! Relevant = not irrelevant.

Given how this concept functions, it's a mistake to say that something is "completely irrelevant." Relevance is not a matter of degree; it's all or nothing. For any propositions X and Y, either X is relevant to Y or it is not. We may not know whether it's relevant, and we may disagree about whether it's relevant, but it is or it isn't. Nor does it make sense to say that X is more relevant than Z to Y. Relevance is like pregnancy. Every woman at any given time is either pregnant or not. Just as there can be doubt that a particular woman is pregnant, there can be doubt that proposition X is relevant to proposition Y. When a lawyer objects to a proffer of evidence on the ground of irrelevance, he or she is saying that the evidence has no bearing on the matter at hand, in which case, why is it being offered (except perhaps to prejudice the jury)?

One of the skills philosophers teach their students is knowing when one proposition is relevant to another. Indeed, there's a fallacy that consists in drawing a conclusion from premises that don't support it. It's called the non sequitur (nonfollower). The non sequitur is a genus with many species. Lawyers, too, must have a healthy sense of relevance. This is one of many points of contact between law and philosophy. It is why, ceteris paribus, students trained in philosophy do better on the Law School Admission Test (LSAT), in law school, and in the practice of law.

Steve Headley, get back to your blog! We miss you.

To the Editor:

In ordinary times, I would completely agree with Nicholas D. Kristof's argument for civility between the two parties ("Calling Bush a Liar," column, June 30). But we are no longer in the ordinary times we were in when the conservatives took out after Bill Clinton. We are in a time now that is as fearful as the period after Munich. Those of us who are demonizing George W. Bush are doing so not because of his morals but because we are scared of what another four years of his administration will do to this country and to the world.

As Maureen Dowd pointed out on June 20, when she compared "the Bush crowd's solipsistic fixation on Saddam" with Bill Clinton's misbehavior in the Oval Office, the latter "produced a much lower body count." Or, as an anonymous placard writer tersely put it, "When Clinton lied no one died."

JANET MALCOLM
South Egremont, Mass., July 2, 2004

Do other bloggers receive nasty letters from readers? A few minutes ago, I got a letter from a reader who asked whether I have ever had a real job. Clearly, he was insulting me. I replied politely, listing the many jobs I've held since the age of seventeen. (I have a thirty-year working career—and counting.) He wrote back and said that only one of the jobs I've held—mill operator in a metal shop for two summers—was a real job. I guess practicing law is not a real job. I could have asked whether he had a point, but I chose not to reply to his second letter (other than to say "Thanks"). He's now blocked from sending me e-mail. I should give his name, but that would mean I'm just as nasty as he is.

Why would someone read my blog if I make him or her mad? I don't get it. I stopped reading Andrew Sullivan's blog several weeks ago because I found it was frustrating and angering me. Life is too short for that. If I were learning something from Sullivan, or even being entertained by him, I might put up with these feelings; but I wasn't. He's a one-trick pony, obsessed with homosexuality. He is First and Foremost a homosexual. That's fine, but I don't like the way he dismisses opponents of homosexual "marriage" as the religious right. I'm an atheist, for God's sake. He's a demagogue, unwilling to listen and unwilling to learn. He seems incapable of making simple distinctions or following complex arguments. If a man can be so close-minded on one topic, how can I take him seriously on others?

It took me a while to size Sullivan up, but once I did, he was history. I'm happier for it. If reading my blog pisses you off, please stop. I'm serious. Just take the icon off your desktop or remove the link from your list of favorites. Try to forget about me. Pretend I died and went to hell. If necessary, replace me with some other blogger, of whom there are many. You'll feel better; I'll feel better; and the blogosphere will be a kinder and gentler place.

Hearse, n. Death's baby-carriage.

(Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary, c. 1911)

July 4th Wednesday ussered in the day by a discharge of one shot from our Bow piece, proceeded on, passed the mouth of a Bayeau lading from a large Lake on the S. S. which has the apperance of being once the bed of the river & reaches parrelel for Several Miles Came to on the L. S. to refresh ourselves &. Jos: Fields got bit by a Snake, which was quickly doctered with Bark by Cap Lewis. Passed a Creek 12 yds. wide on L. S. comeing out of an extensive Prarie reching within 200 yards of the river, as this Creek has no name, and this being the we Din[e] (on corn) the 4th of July the day of the independance of the U. S. call it 4th of July 1804 Creek, Capt. Lewis walked on Shore above this Creek and discovered a high moun from the top of which he had an extensive view, 3 paths Concentering at the moun Saw great numbers of Goslings to day which Were nearly grown, the before mentioned Lake is clear and Contain great quantities of fish an Gees & Goslings, The great quantity of those fowl in this Lake induce me to Call it the Gosling Lake, a Small Creek & Several Springs run in to the Lake on the East Side from the hills the land on that Side verry good— We came to and camped in the lower edge of a Plain where 2d old Kanzas village formerly Stood, above the mouth of a Creek 20 yds wide this Creek we call Creek Independence as we approached this place the Praree had a most butifull appearance Hills & Valies interspsd with Coops [copses] of Timber gave a pleasing deversity to the Senery. the right fork of Creek Independence Meandering thro: the middle of the Plain a point of high Land near the river givs an allivated Situation. at this place the Kanzas Indians formerley lived. this Town appears to have covd. a large Space, the nation must have been noumerous at the time they lived here, the Cause of their moveing to the Kanzas River, I have never heard, nor Can I learn; war with their neghbors must have reduced this nation and Compelled them to retire to a Situation in the plains better Calculated for their defence and one where they may make use of their horses with good effect, in persueing their enemey, we Closed the [day] by a Discharge from our bow piece, an extra Gill of whiskey.

(William Clark, journal entry of 4 July 1804, in The Journals of the Lewis & Clark Expedition: August 30, 1803-August 24, 1804, ed. Gary E. Moulton [Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press, 1986], 2:347-8 [italics in original; endnotes omitted])

History, working its regular miracles to shove along the Declaration's fame, arranged for both men [John Adams and Thomas Jefferson] to die on the same day, the fiftieth anniversary of the Fourth. Adams's mistaken belief that Jefferson was the only Signer still alive is sometimes given a wider meaning. It would be as easy to extend Jefferson's comment on his deathbed: "Is it the Fourth?" He was happy, with the kind of superstition he rebuked in stronger moments, to have lived into that day. But we can pose the question in a much broader sense. Was it ever "the Fourth"? For Jefferson died on the anniversary of a day that never was. The Fourth includes celebration of some things that happened on different days and of other things that did not happen at all. We remember how Rittenhouse swooned when his hopes for accuracy in the transit of Venus faded in the glow of the planet's atmosphere, fuzzing the exact time, making the precisionist resort to guesses. But at least he knew the significance of what he was watching. The huge glow cast through the years from the Fourth was not visible to the men who worked and argued through the actual July 4 of 1776. It is in every way an afterglow, drawing almost as much of its intensity from the deathbeds of these two men as from the event that took place fifty years before.

(Garry Wills, Inventing America: Jefferson's Declaration of Independence [Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Company, 1978], 351 [italics in original])

When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the Powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.—Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their Public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative Powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers.

He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our People, and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislature.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil Power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from Punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:

For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:

For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences:

For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:

For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:

For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with Power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the Lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free People.

Nor have We been wanting in attention to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the Protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.

JOHN HANCOCK

New Hampshire: Josiah Bartlett, Wm. Whipple, Matthew Thornton.

Massachusetts Bay: Saml. Adams, John Adams, Robt. Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry.

Rhode Island: Step. Hopkins, William Ellery.

Connecticut: Roger Sherman, Sam'el Huntington, Wm. Williams, Oliver Wolcott.

New York: Wm. Floyd, Phil. Livingston, Frans. Lewis, Lewis Morris.

New Jersey: Richd. Stockton, Jno. Witherspoon, Fras. Hopkinson, John Hart, Abra. Clark.

Pennsylvania: Robt. Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benja. Franklin, John Morton, Geo. Clymer, Jas. Smith, Geo. Taylor, James Wilson, Geo. Ross.

Delaware: Caesar Rodney, Geo. Read, Tho. M'Kean.

Maryland: Samuel Chase, Wm. Paca, Thos. Stone, Charles Carroll of Carrollton.

Virginia: George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Th Jefferson, Benja. Harrison, Thos. Nelson, jr., Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton.

North Carolina: Wm. Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn.

South Carolina: Edward Rutledge, Thos. Heyward, Junr., Thomas Lynch, Junr., Arthur Middleton.

Georgia: Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, Geo. Walton.

Students come to the podium to chat with me both before and after my classes. During the class period proper, I strive to be fair and balanced in my presentations. I'm not in persuasion mode; I'm in elucidation and explication mode. I want the students to understand the various theories, arguments, and issues we're discussing. For example, if we're discussing Peter Singer's famine-relief argument, I don't let on whether I accept or reject Singer's conclusion. It's irrelevant. In my view, the only academic setting in which it's appropriate to take a position is in a graduate course. Undergraduates are simply not equipped, intellectually or emotionally, to challenge their professors. They feel bullied. What they need—and for the most part want—is a fair presentation of the issues, theories, and arguments.

If I'm talking to a student before or after class, however, or in my office, I may take a position. One day, many years ago, a student came up to me after the first class of the semester. He was obviously excited by my lecture. He said he was looking forward to the course. Then he asked about my political morality. I told him I was a liberal. All of a sudden, he went from excited to dejected. Evidently, he hoped I shared his conservative values. I don't recall what was said after that, but I've thought about this incident and this student many times over the years.

My guess is that the student had had only liberal or leftist professors to that point in his college career. With every class, he hoped he would find someone like him, someone who subscribed to his basic values, or at least took them seriously and treated them respectfully. Invariably, he was disappointed. I was just the latest professor to disappoint him.

This is one of the costs of a predominantly liberal or leftist academy, in my view. I didn't see it as a cost at the time, since I thought those of us on the Left were simply in the right. Of course the academy is dominated by leftists, I thought; that's the correct position! I also thought—I'm ashamed to admit it—that conservatives are, on average, less intelligent than liberals. This, I think, is the prevailing liberal view, one I've discussed at length in a Tech Central Station column (see here).

Liberals say it's important for students to have models. Black students need black professors. Hispanics need Hispanic professors. The disabled need disabled professors. Women need female professors. Why don't they apply this principle to political morality or other matters? Why don't theistic students need theistic professors? Why don't conservative students need conservative professors? The academy should be diverse not only racially, ethnically, and sexually, but ideologically and religiously—and for the same reason. The more diverse the academy, the more models students have. They see that intelligence is not the special preserve of white