Dolly was known as a mononym, that is, a person known by only one name. So that when you hear the name “Dolly,” you immediately know who we are referring to. The term comes from Greek “monos” (single) and ‘Onoma” (name). She apparently lived a life that should establish a “Dolly Test,” similar to the “Turing Test.”

The “Turing Test,” proposed by mathematician Alan Turing in 1950, is a measure of a machine’s ability to exhibit intelligent behavior indistinguishable from a human. In the test, a human evaluator engages in text-based conversations with both a human and a machine without knowing which is which; if the evaluator cannot reliably tell them apart, the machine is said to have passed. While influential in AI philosophy, the test has become controversial as a measure of true intelligence, as modern chatbots can mimic human conversations without genuine understanding.

In the future, there will be a “Dolly” test of goodwill which will measure how well one has lived one’s life.

It’s hard to find anyone’s life about whom nothing negative is ever said. Dolly was certainly a rare one. Widely liked, remarkably consistent, generous, funny, and drama-free in public life. But “nothing negative ever said” is a really high bar for any public figure. There have been minor critiques here and there, but honestly, her reputation’s about as close to broadly beloved as it gets.

Almost without exception, everyone who lionized Dolly after her death at 80 mused that “God took away the wrong 80-year-old American.” While I can’t jump on that rhetorical bandwagon, I can understand the sentiment, and I acknowledge that everyone, well, almost everyone, will be missed by somebody when they’re gone—some more than others.

There are many Dolly stories; here are two of my favorites:

1. Dolly Parton used royalties from Whitney Houston’s hit cover to invest in a Nashville property supporting a Black community. Parton called the property “the house that Whitney built” and felt a deep connection to Houston’s legacy. Houston’s version of “I Will Always Love You” earned Parton around $10 million and became a global phenomenon.

2. Dolly would almost certainly have lost half of that money if she had allowed Elvis Presley to record the song before Houston did. Elvis Presley did not record “I Will Always Love You” because Dolly Parton turned down a demand from Elvis’s manager, Colonel Tom Parker, to give up half of the song’s publishing rights. Elvis loved the song and very much wanted to record a cover. Dolly was thrilled at first and told everyone the good news. The night before the recording session, Colonel Tom Parker called Dolly. He said Elvis would only record songs if he received 50% of the publishing rights. Dolly refused to give up her copyright. She knew she had to protect the song for her family and future. Even though it broke her heart and left her in tears, she canceled the selfish, greedy, and narcissistic arrangement. Unlike many women of her time, she always knew her value and always stood up for what she believed.

Ideally, one should live so that, when one dies, others will say, “What shall we do now that he is gone?” The void left behind: Living so deeply connected to others that your absence is truly felt. A better world: Leaving proof that the world is better because you were here. Genuine kindness: Treating people with such steady grace that no one has to guess how much you cared. [Love actively: Spend your time on the people and relationships that truly matter.

Speak ill of no one: Speak to others, knowing that any conversation could be your last. Let go of petty arguments and unnecessary conflict. Choose to add goodness to the days you have. Goodness knows the world is full of despair and fear; let’s not add to it.

As we look around and survey the sheer number of public figures in America today (public figures proliferate largely based on name recognition), not many of them will meet the Dolly Test.

Politics aside, I can think of only three US presidents of the last half century who would pass the Dolly test: Ronald Reagan, Jimmy Carter and Barack Obama. Those three men’s lives have been heavily scrutinized, with little personal dirt or scandal disclosed. Regardless of how you viewed these men’s politics, few could credibly argue that they were morally or ethically compromised and untrustworthy.

Just as we may never see Dolly’s like again, we may also never see such presidents, or politicians writ large, for whom we can say, “he (she) was a good person, loved his family, respected the Constitution, adhered to the rule of law, and never violated the emolument clause of the Constitution.”

Would you pass the Dolly Test?

MUSICAL CODA:

During a famous 1966 interview, Muhammad Ali was asked about members of the U.S. Congress speaking out against the Vietnam War. When asked whether these politicians were saying stronger things than he had, Ali replied that they were, adding that they could “get away with it” because they had “the complexion and the connection.”

Watching the chicanery and criminality of the current administration in Washington, DC, I finally understand Ali’s felicitous turn of phrase.

For everyday guidance and peace of mind, I often turn to the sayings of wise men across the centuries to better understand the enduring power of complexion in creating connections. For some reason, my mind turns to the sayings and writings of black intellectuals, my forebears, especially W.E.B. Du Bois.

On August 10, 1910, Du Bois wrote:

“High in the tower, where I sit above the loud complaining of the human sea, I know many souls that toss and whirl and pass, yet none intrigue me more than the souls of White Folk.”

I hear Du Bois’ words echoing across time and space, but I’m less intrigued by white people than by the loathsome license some white people are freely and generously granted by virtue of being white. The absence of melanin seems to be the most important attribute required to serve in the current administration; indeed, I submit that that singular attribute is what got the head of this administration the job of commander in chief.

How else can we reasonably explain the debacle of the Iran war, along with other equally stupid spectacles and missteps? Consider the evidence of monumental incompetence:

On March 11, less than two weeks after he and Israel launched this latest bout of war with Iran through a large-scale bombing campaign, Trump declared: “We’ve won. Let me tell you, we’ve won. You know, you never like to say too early that you won. We won. In the first hour, it was over. But we won.”

As Thomas Friedman wrote on Aug. 18, 2026, in the New York Times, “This new physics of war is equally present in the conflicts between Ukraine and Russia, Hezbollah and Israel, Hamas and Israel, and the Houthis and everyone else.”

Although I cite Friedman’s essay with approval, I nonetheless disagree with his central point.

Friedman’s main point of contention is that wars are becoming more dangerous because a country can inflict damage on another without resorting to massive munitions. Drones, computer viruses, and other small weapons can destroy multi-million-dollar weapons from a great distance, relatively easily.

Friedman’s critique is correct, as far as it goes. The most significant reason America has failed to defeat Iran is not the small weapons Iran is using. Rather, the real reason the USA may be losing the war is that we are using leaders with very small brains!

Nothing more needs to be said about the current POTUS; he is a known quantity and well beyond the point of logical reach. One can comb the records from 1776 to the present, and you would not find a Defense Secretary as dense, dumb, and unprepared as Pete Hegseth. It’s a toss-up as to who is more incompetent: Hegseth, Cash Patel, or RFK Jr, who seems to have been selected for his name recognition. It’s like buying a biography of Truman written by Morning Joe instead of David McCullough.

The rest of the Kennedys are watching in horror as the Bobby Jr. debacle unfolds. If his family has rejected him, why should we welcome him with open arms? The family knows who he is, and by now, so should we.

In these important jobs, competence should be the only requirement, not the complexity of complexion. If that were the case, there would be more melanin than mediocrity in the highest levels of the federal government. About this, Du Bois had much to say.

Du Bois strongly rejected the racist idea that Black people lacked innate intelligence or competence. He argued that intellectual and professional capacity was equal across the color lines (he used the term “races,” which I reject; there’s only one race). Given the mediocrity that characterizes the current government, equal competence across the color lines may safely be called into question.

You want another example of incompetence and ineptitude? Consider this stroke of melanin-free stupidity:

In the not-so-distant past, a trade war between Canada and the United States was as likely as a snowstorm in Phoenix, Arizona, in August. Not only was Canada the USA’s closest ally, but on a clear day, you could see Canada from the edge of one of America's most American cities, Detroit, Michigan. Canada’s soldiers fought and died alongside American soldiers in more than one war, including in Afghanistan. We more or less speak the same language (English and French are Canada's co-official languages). Since 1988, the US and Canada have had mutually beneficial trade agreements (the last of which was signed by Trump).

According to Canada’s Carney, in remarks after the talks broke down, Trump insisted that Canada stop promoting French as a co-equal language with English. He also insisted that Canada change its relationship with its other trading partners. Only a melanin-free person suffering from frontal lobe dementia, harboring delusions of being Alexander the Great, would think such an outrageous demand would succeed. The USA’s leader has been influenced by Putin’s imperialistic dreams of empire-building. Ukraine’s response to Russia’s aggression should be a warning to all world leaders hoping to etch their names in the history books as world conquerors.

The conservative Wall Street Journal labeled this amateurish “trade negotiation the dumbest trade war ever and concluded that Trump’s decision to escalate a tariff brawl with Canada is economically and politically nonsensical. It’s as if he is trying to deflect and distract the nation’s attention from his most recent debacle by creating a new one that is worse than the one before.

Du Bois wrote about the “talented tenth” in one of seven essays included in “The Negro Problem: A series of Articles by Representative American Negroes of Today.” Booker T. Washington edited the book and also contributed the first essay. In addition to Washington and Du Bois, contributors include Charles W. Chesnutt, Wilford H.Smith, H.T. Kealing, Paul Laurence Dunbar, and T. Thomas Fortune.

This famous essay argues that the top 10 percent of educated African American men should lead their race toward social and political equality through classical higher education and civic leadership.

Our melanin-free brethren must be wishing for their own “talented tenth.” Heaven knows we need it, as do they. This famous essay argues that the top 10 percent of educated African American men should lead their race toward social and political equality through classical higher education and civic leadership.

Our melanin-free brethren must be wishing for their own “talented tenth.” Heaven knows we need it, as do they.

MUSICAL CODA:

I consider it a badge of honor to never use any First Lady’s words as my guiding light. Amid the oppressive moral decay that has descended on the USA during these Trump years, one desperately searches for signs of intelligent life in America.

I would rather fight the darkness on my own terms, however, and take my lumps as they come. Words do not become special merely because they are spoken by powerful and popular people.

But one thing Hillary Clinton said back in the relatively more enlightened years of 1990s America has lingered with me for almost half a century.

Hillary said, “Nobody really knows what happens in a marriage except the two people in it.” She added, “Every marriage I’m aware of has its ups and downs, hopefully not public for everyone else. And you have to make the decisions that are right for you.”

As Heather Cox Richardson noted in her latest biting commentary in “Letters From An American,” Republicans appear overly sensitive and defensive about Trump’s marriage and his relationship with his aide, Natalie Harp.

At the very least, the Republicans are fully aware of the miscreant nature of their party leader.

Democratic Georgia Senator Jon Ossoff said at a Sunday event for his reelection campaign that Trump does not appear to want to do the job of the presidency. Ossoff added: “He golfs and trades stocks. See, he doesn’t want to do the job; (he knows he is not up to its demands). He wants to build his ballroom and travel with Natalie on their apparently defenseless flying palace gifted by the emir of Qatar.”

As Ms. Richardson noted in her excellent and indispensable analysis, “Megyn Kelly posted that Ossoff “was clearly implying that Trump is having an affair w/his staffer.’” Michael Knowles wrote: “Every time I see a woman at work, I just know she’s sleeping with her boss! Am I right? Anyway, am I the new Obama yet?” White House spokesperson Steven Cheung wrote.

Newt Gingrich, of all people, who is rumored to have wallowed in the filth of deviant sexual behavior, posted: “Jon Ossoff owes Natalie Harp a personal apology for having smeared her.”

And all the while, I thought Gingrich had ridden all the way to meet his maker, along with Rudy Guilani, who is also rumored to still be alive.

At no time did Senator Ossoff use the word “affair,” which raises the question of whether that is precisely what the Republicans had been thinking all along. (“Is he, or is he not?”) Never have I seen a more transparent example of the “Streisand effect.”

The “Streisand effect” arose from a 2003 incident in which Barbra Streisand sued a photographer to suppress an aerial photo of her Malibu home, turning a virtually unseen image into a viral internet fixture. The phrase means that making a big deal of something you are trying to hide only brings more attention to it.

Not since Bill Clinton was president has the entire nation been fixated on a president’s marriage and sex life as it is on the current president’s. I cannot recall this level of focus on the Bushes, Barack Obama, or Joe Biden. Not since Thomas Jefferson’s illicit, unlawful, and immoral coupling with the underage Sally Hemings has so much attention been placed on a president’s sex life.

Personally, I have more pressing matters to occupy my mind than Trump’s sexual, moral, and marital life; the very thought of him being caught in flagrante delicto gives me the chills. What a sight that must be! But let’s consider one piece of evidence that raises a red flag (even if it, ahem, raises nothing else):

In their runaway bestseller, Regime Change, Maggie Haberman and Jonathan wrote, “Natalie Harp leaves “adoring letters” to Trump in “private spaces,” saying things like: “you are all that matters to me.” CNN’s Holmes reported that Harp is “physically close to Trump at all hours of the day” and that Harp once jumped into the trunk of an SUV to stay close to Trump after being told there was no room for her in the vehicle.

Doesn’t sound quite innocent or chaste, does it?

But who cares? (certainly not the current First Lady, it seems).

Clearly, no one would be surprised if Harp had duties beyond those listed in her position description. What would be genuinely surprising is if Trump were not involved in some sordid extramarital affair with SOMEONE. He has a well-known history of depravity, you know.

One last point. As Ms. Richardson noted, the entire Harp affair may simply be the con man’s latest attempt at deflection and misdirection. While everyone is musing and harping on Harp, nobody’s discussing The Epstein file or Trump’s many other failures and misdeeds.

Anyway, at Trump’s advanced age, we may safely assume there’s no lead left in his pencil or any wind in his sail.

MUSICAL CODA:

“Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”

Mary Oliver

More than 900 people, many of them children, died in a mass murder-suicide in 1978 by drinking cyanide-laced punch at the order of cult leader Jim Jones.

Do you plan to spend your one precious life pleasing others and desperately trying to fit in? Even when in your heart, you’d rather not? Does there seem to be an invisible force guiding your behavior against your will?

It’s not easy to keep your mind when all around you, people are losing theirs and blaming you for not losing yours. Do you feel responsible for things outside your control to the point that you develop a guilt complex?

It’s doubly hard to hold on to your mental independence when those who disagree with you are also part of your so-called “tribe.” Nobody wants to let the tribe down.

“A mind is a terrible thing to waste,” so says the United Negro College Fund’s (UNCF) famous and enduring motto. If we take this motto literally, most of us commit terrible acts of waste daily (or more often) without a single thought or concern.

These wasteful acts and reactions seem to be our minds’ way of quickly growing tired of the effort required to think for ourselves. So we gladly—madly and freely, it seems—sublet all the vacant rooms in the rigid castles of our minds to any persuasive occupants, and they are none too shy about taking advantage of the opportunity to do our thinking for us.

That, our tendency to let others think for us, is a direct byproduct of tribal behavior. After pledging devotion to our group, the tribe, we implicitly, if not explicitly, agree to follow the group’s philosophy, customs, and sometimes its way of dressing and speaking.

Watching this comedy of customs from the outside can be amusing, at first. But it’s not funny, especially when the customs and behavior lead to mass violence as they did on January 6. However, other, quieter tribal acts often go unnoticed.

If the tribal leader tells you to vote against one political candidate rather than another, and you are afraid to disagree, that’s a relatively minor tribal act that primes your brain to accommodate larger, more sensational acts of tribal behavior. Or if your tribe thinks the current blockbuster movie is the greatest cinematic experience in the history of humanity and that it shines a penetrating light on our current political quagmire, you find yourself constrained to agree, lest you fall out of favor with the tribe.

The January 6 mass violence didn’t start with the call to violence; rather, it began with the consumption of small lies that escalated until they clouded the followers’ judgment. We call this process “priming the pump.”

Friedrich Hayek, an Austrian economist and philosopher, and author of “The Road To Serfdom,” known for his contributions to political economy, long ago warned that our freedom is seldom taken from us all at once; it’s a gradual process that operates stealthily. By the time you notice what’s happening, after the pump has been primed, it is often too late to change course.

The French writer Voltaire, who published Candide in 1759, perhaps came closest to the truth when he said, “Anyone who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.” And when the tribe commits those atrocities, the resulting herd behavior becomes like a match set to oil or gas.

[The 900 dead people depicted in the photo at the beginning of this essay were not given cyanide the first day of their involvement with Jim Jones. It took time and gradual indoctrination to bring them to the point of being willing to drink poison at the whim of Jones. It’s likely he got them to drink Kool-Aid first.

Few forces in the world are more frightening than herd behavior. The psychology behind herd behavior suggests that people may be influenced by others’ actions and opinions, leading them to conform to the group’s behavior, sometimes without critical thought or even awareness of their own actions. What a terrible waste of a mind!

The good news is that there are techniques to reclaim your brain. I can vouch for them because they have worked for me or are still working for me.

Regaining control of your brain requires breaking cycles of distraction and stress through intentional mental resets, physical movement, and habit-building. This process is called neuroplasticity. Here’s a comedic interlude: How many psychiatrists does it take to change a light bulb? Answer: 1, but it takes a long time, and the light bulb must want to change!

Psychiatrists have yet to determine the limits of the brain’s abilities. Some believe we may never fully understand them all, but evidence suggests neuroplasticity is key.

Neuroplasticity refers to the brain’s ability to rewire itself when adapting to change. It can continue to develop throughout life in response to stimulation, environmental changes, and individual experiences.

If you want to change and throw off the yoke of tribalism, you have to realize it’s possible. You will also need to be willing to put in the time and effort to change. As the Beatles sang, “and know it ain’t easy,” but we can do hard things.

MUSICAL CODA:

In the chaotic mess following the 2020 election, President Trump refused to accept defeat and spewed out dangerous and misleading false claims about voter fraud. Unable to admit defeat, he falsely claimed the election had been stolen from him.

Mike Rogers, a former Republican representative from Michigan, discredited Mr. Trump’s efforts to undermine the election as “cause for both concern and alarm.” Roger was a clear and consistent voice of criticism against Trump.

Exhibiting common sense and devotion to the rule of law, Mr. Rogers lashed out at the president’s pressure on Georgia’s top election official, calling it “more gangster than presidential.” Regarding Mr. Trump’s role in the riot at the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, Mr. Rogers stated, “You’re damn right you had responsibility for this.”

How things have changed. Now that he aims to return to Washington in this Senate race considered key to control of that chamber, Mr. Rogers has transformed himself into an election skeptic. Minutes after the president’s recent speech, laden with stupid and incredible accusations about voting fraud — including a thoroughly discredited claim about Michigan ballots — Mr. Rogers weighed in, suggesting that further scrutiny of the election was now warranted (because he’s running).

“I am thankful for President Trump’s commitment to transparency,” Mr. Rogers wrote on his social media accounts. “The news coming out of the White House tonight is deeply troubling — especially the report of a voter-fraud scheme right here in Michigan.”

Well, the news coming out of the White House is deeply troubling, but not in the way Rogers intended. What is truly disturbing is how easily republicans’ minds can be taken over and controlled by an unscrupulous leader whose only allegiance is to himself and what’s best for his future.

Incredibly, Mr. Rogers has also suggested that voting irregularities sank his Senate bid two years ago — based on an unproven claim about late-arriving ballots in Detroit that Mr. Trump has amplified and repeated the accusations made by election deniers in 2020.

As an American citizen born and raised in the USA, I am concerned about our country’s survival amid the unrelenting lies coming from this White House. We have been pummeled by a fusillade of falsehoods and accusations on everything from election integrity to the price of gasoline and groceries. We can’t believe what the administration says about ANYTHING, including how the Iran war is going (not well). We have witnessed, in real time, the death of truth in our country. When truth and trust are lost, a nation’s peace, prosperity, and safety soon follow.

All that stands between us and national ruin is the checks-and-balances system the founders believed would protect us from megalomania and out-of-control, narcissistic presidents. For that, however, we need a Congress with the spine to stand up to tyranny, deception, and self-dealing. A senator like Rogers, who has shown he has the spine of a jellyfish and the morals of a fabulist on high-octane steroids, cannot be counted on to stand up to anything.

Tip O’Neill, a former Speaker of the House, is credited with saying, “All politics is local.” As a transplanted Michigander, I would hope that anyone we send to the Senate will make us proud. One thing is certain: Mike Rogers is not that person. He has made a Faustian bargain with the devil.

MUSICAL CODA:

Emily Wilson

Although I normally do not worry much about others’ opinions, I’ve been reluctant to admit that I fell asleep during the much-ballyhooed $250 million action movie by Christopher Nolan based on Homer’s ancient Greek poem, the Odyssey.

We attended the movie’s screening with several of our neighbors, who, like us, had succumbed to the hype surrounding Homer’s (?) incredible epic poem, brought to life. After enduring the three-hour (it seemed longer!) spectacle, every member of our motley movie-viewing group proclaimed it “wonderful!” “Incredible!” and “simply perfect.”

I held my tongue, smiled politely, nodded as if in agreement, and went on my merry way. This was partly due to my reticence to appear out of step with my presumed peers and partly to my reluctance to seem unduly judgmental of others’ opinions.

What I didn’t say was that I had grown bored with the sometimes seemingly mindless action and, thankfully, had been briefly awakened in time to see Lupita Nyong’o, one of the world’s most beautiful women, in a brief appearance. A highly criticized one, I might add, presumably because she did not meet the white African Apartheidist Elon Musk’s standard of beauty.

The movie felt empty, drained of the original poem’s magic and majesty. I had read the poem as a child and again as a callow college student, and it had felt as if it had been stamped on my heart and brain like a hot branding iron. Homer’s poem was one you could get lost in, so much so that you’d lose touch with your surroundings, immersed in its magic.

Then, in the London Review of Books, I read Emily Wilson’s essay “An Uncomplicated Man,” in which Ms. Wilson, the most recent translator of The Odyssey, offered a less-than-laudatory analysis of Nolan’s long and grueling movie:

“[The movie] is an entertaining way to escape the high temperatures for a few hours… The Odyssey is not boring, thanks to the source material, which is impossible to mess up entirely. It’s a family-friendly audiovisual spectacle, like an elaborate Fourth of July fireworks display – and with about the same level of narrative and emotional depth.”

Wow! Talk about killing them softly; Ms. Wilson kills with kindness. But, as they say on television, wait, there’s more:

“Nolan’s Odyssey lacks many of the elements that make the poem great. It has nothing convincing to say about time, memory, history, war, or the relationship between one warrior’s glorious return and the lives of his family, adversaries, comrades, friends, and neighbors. It lacks psychological, emotional, political, and ethical depth. Its narrative structure is gimmicky. The writing is abysmal. None of the characters has convincing motivation for their actions or words. There are no sex scenes, and all the food looks horrible.”

Ms. Wilson’s core critique is that Nolan’s film fails to capture the poem’s depth. She says it has nothing convincing to say about time, memory, or history. She calls the script “abysmal,” citing thin character motivation, excessive exposition, and a gimmicky structure. She even says she’d be ashamed to have written any part of it. Overall, she thinks the movie trades the epic’s richness for spectacle.

Although I am hardly the learned commentator that Ms. Wilson is, I cannot help but concur with her analysis. If you had told me I would have slept through one of my favorite ancient poems, I would have thought you mad. But there it is.

Ms. Wilson descends from storied stock. Her father, A.N. Wilson, is widely known as a British biographer, historian, and novelist. He’s written major biographies of figures like Tolstoy, C.S. Lewis, and Queen Victoria. He’s also a prominent public intellectual in the UK. If you’re interested in an introduction to Mr. Wilson’s work, his most acclaimed is “God’s Funeral.” It’s a smart history of the decline of faith. “The Victorians” is super popular too. It’s a sweeping social history. If you’re more into biography, his books on Tolstoy, C.S. Lewis, and Queen Victoria are very well known. But “God’s Funeral”? That’s the one people often put at the top.

Her mother was Katherine Duncan-Jones, a really distinguished Shakespeare scholar.

Ms. Wilson reads the books she translates only in the original Greek. Her greatest accomplishment, however, was validating my negative and puzzled reaction to Nolan’s movies while everyone around me seemed to be falling in line, succumbing to the hype, and pronouncing the movie “a masterpiece.”

It isn’t.

MUSICAL CODA:

Do you remember the story about the frog who dreamed of becoming a prince, then, through no effort of his own, became one? All it took was a kiss from a beautiful princess, and the ugly frog was instantly transformed into a handsome, charming prince. The princess immediately fell for the frog prince, even though inside he was still the dodgy frog he’d always been. The only thing that had changed was that he now held the title of “Prince.”

The same thing happens in reality: The labels we place on people determine how we treat them. It is not what they are or what they do, but who they are as reflected in their titles. That is one reason so many people are desperate to get titles, trading in their beliefs, ethics, and morality (not to mention developing an unerring habit of kissing rear ends) to obtain a title, such as attorney general. And after they obtain the title, they learn to kiss up and spit down.

This ancient fable has been interpreted in many ways, but I prefer this one: Titles change how we see another person because they obscure what’s wrong with the real person. A title gives an ordinary, flawed individual a layer of respectability and competence they have done nothing to earn, by making them more than they have ever been or, truth be told, will ever be. And I have the receipts (examples).

Leon Spinks was, at best, a journeyman boxer, a joke, and a misfit. Comedians and plain old folks made fun of him, his gaped-tooth look, and his bad elocution. All of this was swept away and forgotten when, on February 15, 1978, Spinks beat Ali in a massive upset to win the world heavyweight championship. Then every news outlet wanted to interview the champ. Admiring articles were published about him. He was now a man to be admired.

This all changed when Ali defeated Spinks to regain the heavyweight championship on September 15, 1978. Without the panache of the championship, Spinks once again became a laughingstock and, by all accounts, a heavy user of narcotics.

I called this phenomenon “the tyranny of titles,” and nowhere is this tyranny more evident than in government employment. In government, I’ve seen people who couldn’t find the bathroom down the hallway without a GPS. Then, either by hook or by crook, or by excessive bending of the knee, they are awarded an unearned title of “Assistant this or that” or “Deputy this or that.” The new assistant or deputy assistant, without lifting a finger, becomes instantly transformed into someone to whom one must defer.

During the days I worked as a government attorney, I saw many things that would leave any rational person scratching their head and saying, “Hmm, that doesn’t make sense; that can’t be right.” The Tom Foolery you see in the current administration also exists in other government offices, on a smaller but no less dangerous scale.

For more than two decades, I saw people come and go, but one thing stayed consistent: competence was seldom rewarded; instead, the administration would find some idiots to award a title, then sit back and watch their reputation improve while they did the higher-ups’ dirty deeds. It’s amazing what some people are capable of in exchange for a steady paycheck and a bogus title.

The “tyranny of titles” usually refers to the tendency for people—or even entire systems—to place too much emphasis on official titles, ranks, or credentials. This can create a rigid hierarchy in which someone’s value or authority is judged primarily by their label—such as a fancy title—rather than by their actual competence, insight, or contributions. In other words, it can stifle merit, creativity, and collaboration if people bow to titles rather than genuinely assess ideas or skills.

On the one hand, you have a clown—playful, perhaps not taken seriously—morphing into a king or a president, a symbol of power and status. That transformation highlights how titles can suddenly shift how people are perceived or how they act—regardless of what they were before. However, inside, they are still the same old person they used to be, only now they answer to the honorific “sir” or “Mr. President,” “secretary,” etc.

A Secretary of Defense who served as a co-host on Fox & Friends Weekend doesn’t become a competent SOD simply because he is handed the title. Deep inside (or perhaps not so deep), he is still essentially a pretty face with perfectly coiffed hair playing a role. In the absence of intensive training and study, and even more intensive self-study, he’s still the same old newsreader he used to be, obsessed with his looks and attire. And this administration is filled with numerous other officials whose only qualifications are their willingness to do whatever the boss wants them to do, weather it’s legal, moral, or ethical.

And that scare us all.

MUSICAL CODA

Sometimes you have to get away and go somewhere where nobody knows your name. For this Fourth of July, my wife and I decided that the place this sweltering July had to be Port Huron, Michigan. We fled there to escape the noise, chaos, and confusion that descend upon our small town in Northern Michigan every Fourth of July, a holiday that means little to a great-grandson of an enslaved man. Our goal was to read, relax, rusticate, and ride our bikes if the heat lets up.

Port Huron is a perfect example of how vital US trade with Canada is to both countries’ economy. Located directly across from Sarnia, Ontario, Port Huron is a major border crossing, especially for goods moving along the I-94 corridor. Billions of dollars in goods flow between the two countries every year, and places like Port Huron help ensure that flow is smooth. Manufacturing, agriculture, and energy products all rely on these crossings. In short, it’s not just important; it’s a backbone of cross-border economic health.

Only a fool would attempt to throw a wrench into this vital codependence. Only a fool would try to make trade between the two nations more difficult and onerous. And only a fool would ignore the mutual benefits bestowed on both countries. But as we know too well, there are now fools in charge of the US economy.

But forget the putrid politics for now; Port Huron is a more interesting subject and so much easier on the eyes.

Port Huron, Michigan, sits at the base of Lake Huron and along the St. Clair River, making it a key spot for trade and travel. It was originally inhabited by Native American tribes, primarily the Ojibwe. When French explorers arrived in the 17th century, it became part of New France. Later, after the British and then the United States took over, it grew into an important shipping and shipbuilding hub in the 19th century. It’s also known for being the boyhood home of Thomas Edison. The city’s history reflects the evolution of industry, especially as it relates to the Great Lakes, and it has played a role in both US and Canadian history due to its location near the border.

The bridge in this photo is the Blue Water Bridge, a twin-span international bridge across the St. Clair River that links Port Huron, Michigan, United States, and Point Edward, Ontario, Canada. The bridge also connects Highway 402 in Ontario with both Interstate 69 (I-69) and Interstate 94 (I-94) in Michigan. The original span of the bridge opened in 1938, and a companion span opened in 1997.

Logistics and trucking companies are actively using the Blue Water Bridge in Port Huron to avoid the Ambassador Bridge. In fact, due to this shift, the Blue Water Bridge recently surpassed the Ambassador Bridge to become the busiest commercial truck crossing between the US and Canada. This once again proves that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

The attempted predatory poaching of the Gordie Howe Bridge is a case in point. As noted in a previous “A Ray Of Light,” the current US administration has ignored a long-standing agreement between the US and Canada, leading Canada to foot the entire bill for the Howe Bridge, which the administration is holding hostage until it can profit from it. This present administration is being led by a man who always was and always did what he had always done. And he’s doing it again.

Actions have consequences, and they are not always pleasant ones

MUSICAL CODA:

A few days ago, Megyn Kelly went on a racist rant, saying she wanted Haitians out of the USA. This foolish woman even echoed Trump’s lie that Haitians eat cats and dogs. Princeton professor Eddie Glaude published an article today about Kelly’s unhinged racist rant, in which he quoted Lothrop Stoddard’s 1920 book, The Rising Tide of Color Against White World Supremacy.

“In 1920, Lothrop Stoddard published The Rising Tide of Color Against White World Supremacy. He stoked fears that the so-called inferior races threatened the extinction of the white race. Stoddard made the stakes clear:

“If white civilization goes down, the white race is irretrievably ruined. It will be swamped by the triumphant colored races, who will obliterate the white man through elimination or absorption. Unless we set our house in order, doom will sooner or later overtake us all.”

Kelly’s language is striking because it articulates, in unusually stark terms, a worldview rooted in racial panic and zero-sum thinking, as reflected in Stoddard’s book quoted above. She has learned that such overheated language draws a crowd the way fresh feces draw flies. Unfortunately, millions of Americans greedily consume Kelly’s vomit, much as vultures consume rotten meat. Sadly, a goodly number of such consumers occupy positions of power within our government.

Kelly and her cohorts believe they must be outrageous and controversial to attract attention to their “independent journalism.” If they believe anything at all, they believe there’s nothing more important than readers consuming their insane utterances. Since the president began functioning as a suppository, releasing verbal waste on the nation, more so-called conservatives have begun to feel that everything goes. All pretense of civility has evaporated like rainwater on a hot summer day in Arizona, leaving behind the awful stench of a verbal sewer. The resulting filth defiles the air and creates further division, straining the body politic to its breaking point.

In addition to creating irresponsible content to attract people hungry for trashy “journalism,” writers like Kelly take perverse pleasure in provoking the left. Unfortunately, Professor Glaude and others have taken the bait, giving much more attention to the mental Lilliputian Kelly than she has earned. Professor Glaude has a brilliant mind; however, he appears perpetually angry and aggrieved. I am aware that his literary hero, James Baldwin, wrote: “to be a Black person in America and to be conscious is to be in a perpetual state of rage all the time.”

James Baldwin is also one of my literary heroes, but my heroes are human and fair game for questioning. I have long since moved beyond the point where I swallow a “hero’s” every word as if it came down from the heavens. I refuse to allow myself to be in a constant state of rage. I want to enjoy sunrises and sunsets, my grandchildren, good books, and good music. Being in a supercharged state of rage constantly steals one’s joy like a thief in the night and robs one of one’s humanity. I refuse to succumb to this dark view of “race,” even if Baldwin encourages it.

Immigration, like race, is one of those issues that’s easy to frame emotionally—whether it’s fear of change or a sense of fairness. Leaders know this. But once we have the full picture—and can discuss the facts calmly—we’re much harder to sway. It’s always wise to keep digging beneath the hype.

Fear of the unfamiliar can fuel much of the narrative. But at the end of the day, we’re all human, and once we connect on that level, the fear fades. Talking openly about it, as you’re doing, is how we move past that “other” idea.

Many studies show that unauthorized immigrants often contribute significantly—through labor, taxes (yes, many pay taxes even without status), or by starting businesses. The “take” side—such as use of certain public services—gets a lot of attention, but net economic analyses often find that their contributions outweigh the costs. It’s one of those complex narratives in which the data show many positive contributions, even as the debate rages on.

Let us close with this thought: I just finished reading an article in the July issue of the Atlantic by Idrees Kahloon entitled “How Britain Became As Poor As Mississippi.” There’s much that Conscious Americans can learn from this article. Mississippi is the USA’s poorest state. Outside of London, Britain’s living standards fall well below Mississippi’s! There’s not one single reason for this deplorable situation; there are many. Brexit leads the way, of course, because it deprives Great Britain of the economic benefits of the EU’s economic vibrancy. Additionally, politics has become zero-sum in Britain and has descended into fights over who robbed whom. Suspicions have fallen, above all, on immigrants, whom both parties have turned on.

If this all sounds familiar to you, it should. Americans should take Britain’s decline as a cautionary tale; one we repeat at our peril.

We started this essay with Megan Kelly, so it seems fitting to end with her. I first heard of her in 2016, during the Republican candidates’ debates, when she asked Trump whether a man with his temperament—who had called women “fat pigs, dogs, slobs, and disgusting animals”—ought to be elected president. Since that promising beginning, she has seen the light: Approximately 35 million voters will follow Trump no matter what he says or does. Those are the readers she has decided to appeal to. It is precisely those voters who, given their way, will destroy the American dream for anyone they consider “the other.”

For self-styled pundits such as Kelly, all that counts is courting as many readers as possible, regardless of how her overheated, racist rhetoric harms America.

God help us all!

MUSICAL CODA:

The Oresund Bridge between Malmö, Sweden, and Copenhagen, Denmark, is not only an engineering marvel but also a testament to what can be achieved when intelligent nations collaborate for their mutual benefit. Cooperation is a cherished Scandinavian ideal. These people are not predatory; they do not embrace the odious idea that, for them to win, someone must lose.

The “Law of Jante” (or Janteloven) is an unwritten Scandinavian cultural philosophy that emphasizes humility, equality, and collectivism. Originating as social satire, its core principle holds that the group is more important than the individual, discouraging boasting, vanity, and the belief that you are special.

It is impossible to imagine our current administration ever adopting the law of Jante. For this government, winning means taking advantage of the other party and proving you are somehow superior to others.

Construction of the Øresund Bridge began in 1995 and was completed in 1999. It opened to traffic on July 1, 2000. The way the two nations cooperated in building the Bridge was an overt manifestation of Jante. Before the Øresund Bridge opened in 2000, travelers relied on frequent car and train ferries to cross the strait between Sweden and Denmark.

As the Beatles sang, you know it wasn’t easy traveling from Sweden to Denmark. It took a long time, and you really had to want—or need—to make the trip. In the years before the Bridge was completed, we made numerous trips between Sweden and Copenhagen.

The construction of the Bridge was a boon to both countries’ economies, proving that cooperation is far preferable to naked aggression. It helped integrate the two major metropolitan areas into a unified economic and cultural hub. The fixed link replaced slow ferry services with a 35-minute train or car ride, creating a shared labor market and boosting cross-border trade.

The construction of this bridge-to-tunnel link was driven by necessity, as always, the mother of invention. During the 1970s and 80s, traditional industries in the region experienced a steep decline. Malmö desperately needed a catalyst for economic revitalization. By linking its workforce to Copenhagen’s always-robust economy, it created a combined trading hub of over 4 million people!

A bridge could not span the entire distance between Copenhagen and Malmö because it would block large ships and interfere with air traffic from nearby Copenhagen Kastrup Airport. And just like that, a hybrid solution emerged: a cable-stayed bridge from Sweden that transitions to the underwater Drogden Tunnel near the Danish coast via an artificial island.

It’s not for nothing that these two countries have endured for a thousand years; they know a thing or two about survival, reinvention, and resilience, and yes, intelligent cooperation.

The benefits have been many: The link integrates the road and rail networks of the Scandinavian peninsula with those of central and western Europe. The Bridge also houses critical fiber-optic data cables that form a backbone for digital transmission between Central Europe and the Nordics.

The new transport system effectively integrates the two cities into a single metropolitan area. Other key successes include labor and business integration, as well as a real estate boom in both cities. It also seamlessly connects Southern Sweden to Copenhagen Airport (Kastrup), making international travel much easier for residents and businesses on both sides. Our annual visit to the region is now easier than ever.

As the photograph below illustrates, the Bridge is not only highly efficient, but it is also a magnificent work of art:

Here in the old UUS of A, the story could not be more different from that of the Scandinavians. Such international cooperation is colored by predatory impulses from the very top of the government—case in point: The Gordie Howe Bridge project.

Former Michigan Republican Governor Rick Snyder signed an intergovernmental agreement with Canada in 2012 to enable construction of the Gordie Howe International Bridge. Unable to secure approval from the Michigan state legislature, Snyder bypassed it by signing an agreement directly with then-Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper. Under this deal, the Canadian government financed the entire construction upfront. Michigan will co-own the Bridge as Canada’s investment through future toll revenues.

Although Canada shouldered the entire cost of building the Bridge, the physical asset is co-owned by Canada and Michigan; it sounds like a great deal for the United States, doesn’t it? Not to the current president, who, true to his well-developed predatory instincts, is now seeking to enrich himself and his friends. President Biden’s actions to bridge the Bridge's opening are widely viewed as a means of protecting the financial interests of Matthew Moroun, a billionaire donor who owns the competing 100-year-old Ambassador Bridge.

The construction of the Gordie Howe Bridge took about 7 to 8 years and cost $6.4 billion CAD (about $4.7 to $5 billion USD). The six-lane Bridge was designed to ease chronic congestion on the Ambassador Bridge, a direct benefit to both countries.

If you are familiar with how this president operates, it will not surprise you that Matthew Moround met with Trump and donated $1 million to a Trump-aligned super PAC. And of course, this president has never shown respect for any agreements the USA entered into before he took office. (Note: This predatory behavior is the chief reason for the Iran war.)

Trump has threatened to block Bridge’s opening or withhold the necessary permits unless the U.S. “receives full compensation and an ownership stake in the crossing.”

Compensation for what?

Balderdash! Bunkum, drivel, and hogwash! This incident, and others like it, are why many countries relish the day they no longer have to contend with American untrustworthiness.

MUSICAL CODA:

I have been wrestling with this question for the longest time. It’s like wrestling with the devil or a slippery eel. No sooner do I think I have a grasp on the question than the answer slips away. So I’m doing what I normally do when I’m trying to figure out what I think and what I feel. I’m writing about it.

Writing to me is not only meditative, grounding, and centering but also auto-therapeutic. It would be easier for me to say yes to this question as a good American. I’m celebrating my country’s birthday, or, given the horrible legacy of racism, slavery, Jim Crow, and the systematic massacre of Native Americans, it may be even easier to ask what America’s 250^th birthday means to me, a descendant of enslaved people whose rights, even to this day, are under attack.

That’s what the great Fred Douglas asked in his penetrating essay, “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?”

As the Smithsonian has noted, on July 5, 1852, Frederick Douglass delivered a keynote address at an Independence Day celebration, posing the question, “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?” Douglass was a powerful orator, often traveling for six months a year to lecture on abolition.

His speech, delivered at an event commemorating the signing of the Declaration of Independence, took place at Corinthian Hall in Rochester, New York. It was a scathing address in which Douglass stated, “This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn.”

In his speech, Douglass acknowledged the Founding Fathers of America, the architects of the Declaration of Independence, for their commitment to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

You may have noticed that I’m not Mr. Douglass; I cannot aspire to his eloquence or to the sharpness of his analysis and presentation. So good sense dictates that I allow his words to speak directly to us.

“Fellow Citizens, I am not lacking in respect for the fathers of this republic. The signers of the Declaration of Independence were brave men. They were great men, too, great enough to give form to a great age. It does not often happen for a nation to raise, at one time, so many truly great men. The point from which I am compelled to view them is certainly not the most favorable, and yet I cannot contemplate their great deeds without admiration. They were statesmen, patriots, and heroes, and for the good they did and the principles they contended for, I will unite with you to honor their memory.”

Douglass stated that the nation’s founders were great men for their ideals of freedom. But in doing so, he highlights the hypocrisy of those ideals in the face of slavery on American soil. Douglass continues to interrogate the meaning of the Declaration of Independence for enslaved African Americans experiencing grave inequality and injustice:

“Fellow-citizens, pardon me, allow me to ask, why am I called upon to speak here today? What have I, or those I represent, to do with your national independence? Are the great principles of political freedom and natural justice, embodied in that Declaration of Independence, extended to us? Am I, therefore, called upon to bring our humble offering to the national altar and to confess the benefits and express devout gratitude for the blessings resulting from your independence to us?”

“Would to God, both for your sakes and ours, that an affirmative answer could be truthfully given to these questions! Then would my task be light, and my burden easy and delightful. For whom is so cold that a nation’s sympathy could not warm him? Who so obdurate and dead to the claims of gratitude as not to acknowledge such priceless benefits with thanks? Who so stolid and selfish as not to give his voice to swell the hallelujahs of a nation’s jubilee when the chains of servitude had been torn from his limbs? I am not that man. In a case like that, the dumb might eloquently speak, and the ‘lame man leap as a hart.’”

But such is not the state of the case. I say this with a sad sense of the disparity between us. I am not within the pale of the glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings you rejoice in this day are not shared. The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity, and independence, bequeathed by your fathers, is yours, not mine. The sunlight that brought you light and healing has brought me stripes and death. This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice; I must mourn.

- Frederick Douglass, July 5, 1852

There was a time, not so long ago, when I would have declared that we—all of us—should celebrate the USA’s effort to live up to its creed and ideals. I would have sung from the mountaintop that this is my country, right or wrong. I would have said, as Winston Churchill said, “America will always do the right thing, after it has exhausted all other alternatives.”

But I can no longer make such declarations. Since the 2016 election, the country has regressed, not only in civil rights but also in civil liberties. Instead of talking about liberty and equality for all, the country’s leaders muse about “black jobs” and repeatedly refer to black and brown people as “vermin.” Voting rights are being constrained, health care is being limited, and education is being subjected to governmental litmus tests. Women are being called “dogs” and “piggies.”

Concentration camps are springing up like mushrooms in dark rooms, and the government is importing white South Africans while limiting immigration privileges for all other nonwhites. And on and on and on.

So, what’s to celebrate?

You tell me.

MUSICAL CODA:

Josh Hokit wouldn’t recognize a man even if he woke up and found himself happily married to one. He’d just put some lipstick and mascara on him and insist he’s a woman, thus fulfilling his lifelong homoerotic dreams (more men than you may realize harbor such dreams. They are typically the most vocal homophobes. If you are comfortable within yourself, you don’t generally concern yourself with others’ personal relationships, gay, straignt or bent).

(Have you ever noticed how when UFC fighters are maniacally tussling on the mat they appear to all the world like lovers in the paroxysm of passion? At minimum, they do appear to be having a good time writhing on top of each other.)

Conor MacGregor, the world’s most popular UFC fighter, has been known to become visibly aroused during the course of a “fight.”

But I digress….

By now you must have heard that, in keeping with his exquisite tastes, Donald Trump celebrated his 80th birthday with a UFC fight on the lawn of the White House, where the winner shouted “Michelle Obama is a man”…

President Trump was seen smiling ringside following the remark. While he later congratulated the fighters on Truth Social, he did not explicitly address or condemn the comment.

We shouldn’t care that Donald Trump was seen smirking and smiling at the insane stupidity of that remark. That’s what old men suffering arrested development do when hearing tasteless jokes. We shouldn’t be angry with the brain addled fighter who uttered those vacuous words; rather, we should feel relieved for them having the courage to stand on top of Mount Olympus and declare to the world:

“We are as stupid as you thought we were.” It’s gratifying to have your beliefs validated, especially when the validation is done by the people upon whom we lavish the beliefs in their imbecilic behavior.

Some people, let’s call them one trick ponies, attribute such stupid remarks to racism or misogyny, because when racism and misogyny are all you have in the deep chambers of your mind, everything you see looks like them. It might not be racism, it may simply be something else: old musty garden variety stupidity. There’s a lot of that going around, by the way.

Calling the first Black first lady a man after she’s given birth to two beautiful girls is beyond stupid. It’s pathetic in a deeply twisted sense. I say that getting angry at someone making such a desperate declaration is like getting mad with someone for saying that the moon is made out of green cheese. Modern medical science can treat many things; stupidity is not one of them.

When we react to such lunacy, we raise it up to a level where it shouldn’t be raised up. It would be far better to ignore the ignorance, and spare yourself the aggavation.

Men with presumed power do not frighten strong women. They are just frightened little boys who never outgrew their toys. Weak men cannot abide women who are stronger and more determined than they are. Their crippled litle psyches genuinely believe that if a woman is strong then she therefore she must be a man. I feel sorry for these men having to live in a technologically advanced world that has left them behind in their man caves, video games neanderthal fights.

Weak men cannot abide strong women, in fact, they are afraid of them. So rather than appreciate the fact that these women are strong and undeterred and determined they tear try and tear them down. To still be this dumb after all this time must really be painful. I can’t imagine being so stupid as embrace such a bizarre trope. I can’t imagine being so dumb that you think that Trump is a good president or even a good person.

I am glad I am not one of them. I am glad that my daughter and my grandkids and my wife (and most of my friends and neighbors) are not representative of such stupid people. These people seem to be another species altogether, and I have nothing in common with them. I only engage with people in my species and with whom I share a gene pool.

These men are weak people

Enough said.

MUSICAL CODA:

Regardless of who they are, the positions they hold or the mask they may wear, most men cannot help but leave evidence of their weak and dirty nature. They can't help themselves; it's as if they are saying, “ you think you know me, but you don't. Here is who I really am.”

And when a man fails some unwritten law about appropriate and proper behavior it gives other men an excuse to pile on, like writhing bodies in a a rugby scrum. The weight of the scrum is in direct proportion to the weight of accumulated hidden secrets each man invariably carries in the secret chambers of his own heart.

Besides being the most famous and brilliant military leader and the Emperor of France, Napoleon carried with him into two wars a dirty secret. He had about himself a thick and pungent smell of degeneracy. He rose to power after the French Revolution and is well-known for his sweeping reforms, including the Napoleonic Code. His military campaigns reshaped Europe, but his ambition ultimately led to his defeat at Waterloo.

But there was another Napoleon hiding in the deep, dark crevices of his mind, and in the shadows of his reptilian brain. And he revealed his “secret” depravity to the world through his correspondence with his wife Josephine. The private became public and changed forever how the world saw him. It happened then and continues to happen even today in the private lives of public men.

You’d think they would learn from history. But then most of us are ignorant of history as we are of other substantive subjects.

Napoleon’s letters to his wife Joséphine are infamous for their intense passion, raw desperation, and occasionally racy content. Away on harsh military campaigns, his yearning for her drove him to write some of the most dramatic and famously explicit passages of his life.

Some of the most famous and salacious details from this historical correspondence include:

• The Raunchy Promise: In a letter sent while on campaign in 1796, Napoleon wrote, “A kiss on your heart, and one much lower down, much lower”. [1, 2]

• The “Dirty” Request: A celebrated (though highly debated) anecdote often cited from his letters involves him writing: “Home in three days. Don’t bathe,”expressing a profound desire to steep himself completely in her natural scent upon his return. One can only imagine….

• Intense Torment: While deeply infatuated, he often wrote to express jealousy over Joséphine’s dalliances in Paris while he was away. In one such instance, he claimed, “If my heart were vile enough to love without return, I’d chop it off with my teeth,” displaying the emotional volatility that defined their early marriage.

Historians and scholars continue to study this legendary correspondence, as it highlights the juxtaposition of a brilliant military mind acting as an obsessive, lovestruck, and slightly unhinged, partner.

Perhaps Napoleon was suffering from PTSD he contracted during his military campaigns? If so he had much in common with Graham Platner who took this defense when it came to light that he had been involved in rather extensive and prolonged bouts of sexting with more than one woman. Apparently he was proliftic.

Graham Platner is running for the U.S. Senate from Maine, and he has openly discussed dealing with PTSD and alcohol issues after his military service. He’s faced controversy, including accusations from former partners and scrutiny over offensive posts. He admitted to sending explicit texts to others while married. Despite these controversies, he’s now the Democratic nominee challenging Susan Collins in a key Senate race. Apparently such behavior is a prequisite for holding high political office.

This claim leads one to wonder whether or not sending sexually explicit photos of one’s body to random people can relieve the intense agony caused by PTSD? if it does, will it become the treatment of choice for PTSD? I don’t have the expertise to answer that question; however, I’m skeptical. I do know this: we have had relatives who served in Vietnam who suffered from PTSD. To my knowledge none of them engaged in such boorish behavior.

But that’s not really the question, is it? The question is—-or should be—-how much should an individual’s private perversions impact an American’s ability to discharge their duties as employees of the American people? How do we separate the private from the pubic? Does sending nude pictures to another human being indicate some core incompetence (assuming, of course, the recipient is not a minor, which raises a host of other questions).

The general rule is (or used to be before the USA standards of decency were torn asunder by the current political regime) that an employee’s private behavior should not necessarily affect their employment. The caveat is that if the employees’ private conduct casts the employer and it's business in a negative public light, the line seperating public from private may well be punctured. It, is genuinely impossible, however, to conceive of anything casting a more negative light on the Congress or the Senate than that which currently exists. Sexting may be the least reprehensible thing this Congress has engaged in in its recent history.

Congress is historically unpopular, with a recent Gallup survey finding just a 10% approval rating, while disapproval sits at 86%. This reflects the institution’s chronic unpopularity, with disapproval nearing the all-time record highs recorded for the body since polling began in 1974. increasingly Congress is where morals and ethics go to die, and jerks flourish like nowhere else.

Approval/Disapproval: Only 10% of Americans approve of the job Congress is doing, tied for the lowest marks in 50 years of polling.

Public Perception: Congress consistently ranks as one of the most disliked institutions in the U.S., with dissatisfaction spanning across both Democratic and Republican party lines due to perceived political gridlock and internal dysfunction. Such antisocial acts do raise questions about judgment, if you ask me. But Plantar may well be insulated from the consequences of his actions by the lowly reputation of the body he hopes to join. His election may well elevate Congress’ moral core.

We have seen other examples of bad behavior, such as bragging about grabbing women privates against their will. I leave it to the readers to decide if this public servant’s behavior fully and finally manifested and flowered into other acts of bad judgment in things having to do with economics, tariffs and unilateral military blunders. Remember, as The Budha said, “the way you do one thing is the way you do everything.” Not to put too fine a point on it, become too shrill, I say character counts until it doesn’t.

MUSIC CODA:

To the Stoics, philosophy is not merely a random collection of disconnected ideas. Rather, it is a way of life, and a way of understanding our lives as we live them. Philosophy’s purpose is not to give us the appearance of being wise but to become wiser tomorrow than we are today. Yet,…yet, we human beings possess a remarkable ability to divide ourselves into compartments, and allow our prejudices to guide our thinking rather than the other way around. We often present one version of ourselves to the world while quietly nurturing another within, thus deceiving even ourselves.

One of humanity’s most enduring modes of self-deception is the extent to which we give ourselves over to tribalistic thinking, groupthink, and echo-chamber living.

Tribalism is what happens when belonging becomes more important than truth.

Tribalism means loyalty to your own group so strong that it can override fairness, facts, or empathy for outsiders.

In politics or culture, tribalism often means:

“Whatever my side does is justified; whatever the other side does is evil.”

It can give people a sense of belonging and identity, but at its worst, it creates blindness: people stop asking, “Is this true?” and start asking, “Does this help my side?”

I’m going to anger some members of my family and the tribe to which I once belonged. I’m going to compare a black hero/politician to a hated and despised white politician. Probably nobody but me would dare compare Marion S. Barry to Trump; however, my argument here is that they have much in common.

Marion Barry faced a range of legal troubles throughout his tenure as mayor of Washington, DC. The most infamous incident was in 1990 when he was arrested for possession of crack cocaine after an undercover sting operation. He also had other legal battles, including tax issues and probation violations. Despite all that, he remained an influential figure in DC politics.

However, Barry’s crimes appear petty compared to Trump’s ongoing crime spree. Marion Barry wasn’t accused of stealing from the government. He did face other legal troubles, though—most famously, he was arrested in 1990 in a drug sting. He was also convicted of misdemeanor drug possession. But financial theft from the government wasn’t among the charges he faced.

The rancid scent of corruption has followed Trump from private to pubic life. There has been widespread speculation about the extent to which he has personally benefited from being President. We won’t go there; we’ll say that if it walks like a dog, barks like a dog, it might well be a dog.

Trump’s greatest crime has been how he has systematically dismantled America’s status in the international community and attacked our allies. He has perverted public discourse, launched ad hominem attacks at various people, insulted women and minorities, and spread racist tropes such as depicting the Obamas as monkeys. He has indicated that there are certain jobs—menial to be sure—that are “black” jobs. He has tried to steal others’ glory by, for example, plastering his name on the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts.

So, why and how to compare these two towering figures in American politics? It is by comparing how triablism embraced them and held them harmless for any harm they may have caused, including collateral damage. Even though their conduct often stood in counterpoint to the norm, their legions of supporters never wavered.

So the main point of this essay is to illustrate the corrosive and destructive nature of tribal thinking. Such thinking clouds the mind and makes critical thinking harder than it has to be.

The egos of these men were colossal, so big they could barely be contained. Surely a sight to behold. Their acolytes made sure nobody mistook them for mere mortals. Larger than life in life, even larger in a presumed afterlife. There is a curious tendency among men (mostly men; hardly ever women, the more intelligent of the genders) to memorialize their heroes, if not to deify them; Behold:

I have met Marion Shipolov Barry on several occasions when we lived in the DMV (District, Maryland, Virginia) corridor, and if my luck holds out, I shall never meet Trump. If I did, I might not be able to hold my tongue for long and might wind up being “disappeared.”

In the jigsaw puzzle that is our lives, our job is to assemble all the pieces and construct a coherent narrative and picture that makes sense. To do so requires us to think deeply and honestly about what we believe and why. Most of all, honesty is required along with critical thinking.

How many of us ever challenge our thinking? How many of us are willing to kill our sacred cows, slay them and begin again from a place of truth, and admit we’ve been wrong or, worse, duped? Not many, I would wager.

But that’s my mission, and if I’ve failed, I didn’t fail in the process of not reaching. And so it goes.

If you only get one thing from this essay, I hope it is that understanding that gathering in tribes, letting the group do your thinking instead of engaging in tribalism, is dangerous. It is dangerous because we tend to let scoundrels off the hook for their bad behavior, and all of society suffers as a result.

Oh, I forgot to mention something else Barry and Trump have in common, and remembering this quality will stand you in good stead: After Barry was “busted” for drug possession and incarcerated, he was released and, like Dracula, rose from the dead and was AGAIN elected mayor of DC.

After Trump staged a failed coup of the federal government and was credibly accused of pirating a government top secret document, he returned to the white house. What the hell? How do you perform this incredible Houdini act?

There are no lengths to which people will go to maintain the coherence of their current belief system, regardless of how much contrary evidence they are exposed to, because that triggers cognitive dissonance. As a matter of fact, paradoxically, what often happens when we expose you to contrary information is that it only solidifies your position. And that’s one of the primary reasons charlatans, con artists, and bad actors such as Trump and Barry continue to fire the imagination and pull us further apart into warring groups of blind sycophants.

To move forward requires a revolution of the mind.

So, the answer to the question of who was worse, Barry or Trump?

Both.

MUSICAL CODA:

Imagine my shock when a cousin of mine from Miami questioned how a black director could cast David Oyelowo as Martin Luther King, Jr., in a movie about King’s life. As the Brits would say, I was gobsmacked, utterly astonished, and knocked off my game! What amount of stupidity does it take to say, or think, that only a black man from Georgia is competent to play the great civil rights leader?

“He’s British; King was American, not British!” She fumed. “ Anyone portraying King should be a Black American.” Completely ignoring the self-evident fact that Oyelowo undeniably bears a striking resemblance to the real-life King. Not to mention that he’s a supremely talented actor.

That last sentence is the only one that’s relevant, or even comes close to telling a great truth.

David Oyelowo was born in Oxford, England, to Nigerian parents and holds an omoba (prince) title within the Yoruba chieftaincy system. His grandfather was the king of Awe, a town in Oyo State, Nigeria. With that kind of pedigree, he should be able to play any role he chooses.

Then, to follow idiocy with a dose of stupidity, there was the time when a light-skinned black actress was picked to play Nina Simone, who was roughly the color of Clarence Thomas and Miles Davis.

Actress Zoe Saldana had to apologize for playing Nina Simone in a heavily criticized 2016 biopic. The Marvel star, who is of Dominican and Puerto Rican descent, wore a prosthetic nose and skin-darkening make-up for the role. Still, some well-meaning black people criticized the director of the Simone movie for casting a light-skinned woman as Nina. As if Ms. Simone’s talent was enhanced by her midnight blue skin.

No one has yet complained that Morgan Freeman has played God on film two times. He portrayed the role in the following comedy movies:

Bruce Almighty (2003)

Evan Almighty (2007)

Perhaps this omission is a creeping suspicion that God’s existence is not a sure thing, that maybe, just maybe God is a man-made fiction. He may even be a she, or something in between. If there were a God, they would be nothing if not protean, right?

For an obscenely rich man who makes some claims of being a genius, Elon Musk can say some really dumb things. Elon Musk expressed strong disapproval over reports that director Christopher Nolan cast black actress Lupita Nyong’o as Helen of Troy in his film The Odyssey. He argued that a black actress does not fit the character's traditional description and claimed the casting decision was made to meet inclusion standards. The controversy unfolded in several ways:

The Criticism: Musk amplified comments on X (formerly Twitter), calling it “an insult” to Homer to cast a black woman as Helen of Troy, a mythological figure often described as fair-skinned in the ancient epics. He specifically declared that Nolan “has lost his integrity” and accused him of making the casting choice to win awards.

The Backlash: Musk’s statements ignited significant backlash. Critics, including Whoopi Goldberg, publicly called out his views, and many fans and academics have pointed out that Helen is a mythological demigod whose physical traits can be open to creative reinterpretation.

Historical Precedents: Following Musk’s comments, cultural commentators also highlighted that Lupita Nyong’o is not the first black woman to play the role. In 1950, Orson Welles cast the legendary black actress Eartha Kitt to play Helen of Troy in a stage production in Paris. Ideally, we should develop into a society in which anyone can play any role, and race would be a relatively inconsequential factor in casting decisions, like eye color.

Orson Wells was a genius of another color; the authentic kind.

Illustration appearing in the Economist’s article on Musk

If anything Musk says about race surprises you, you have not been paying attention. In a May 27th, 2026, article entitled “Why can’t Elon Musk do for politics what he’s done for industry?” The Economist magazine had this to say about Musk:

“When it comes to the maths of politics, Mr Musk specializes in division. He practices the aggrieved identity politics he condemns on the left. To him, white people are a beleaguered minority—indeed, “a rapidly dying minority”, as he put it on X in January. An analysis by The Economist of Mr Musk’s X feed shows, within his torrent of remarks on many matters, a significant increase in the past three years in posts promoting racial consciousness among white people, urging them to defend or augment their power as a race. In January, he reposted an exhortation with a “100%” emoji that “white solidarity is the only way to survive”. The underlying post was at odds with Mr Musk’s view of whites’ minoritarian status but in line with his racial hysteria, warning that “if white men become a minority, we will be slaughtered”.

“There has been unrelenting hate and poisonous propaganda in the West against anyone White, straight, or male over the past decade or more!” he wrote on X in February. Not exactly the well-chosen and finely honed word of a genius. You would hardly expect such poisonous nonsense coming from Einstein or Richard Feynman.

Musk’s family history may provide some clues to his stupidity. Joshua Haldeman, Musk’s grandfather, moved his family to South Africa in 1950, as the apartheid regime was tightening its grip. He was seeking the highest level of white supremacist power protection he could find. As the saying goes, the crap doesn’t fall too far from the crapper.

But should Helen of Troy be played only by a white actor? Come on, man, she wasn’t real, even nongeniuses know this. But then, maybe he’s not really a genius, at least NOT in the Einstein and Feynman neck of the woods.

MUSICAL CODA: “Fools rush in where geniuses fear to tread.”

When I entered the university in Miami in 1968, I carried with me many hopes and dreams, along with my clothes. Jim Crow, Georgia, and the backbreaking labor in the cotton fields of Early County and Fort Gaines were in my rearview mirror. But those days were not so far behind me that I could not still see, smell, and sense them, and shudder at the horror of what ifs. What if I never left? What if I remained in one place, fighting the ghosts of the Confederate regime? What if I accepted being in “my place”? What if I dared not dream?

Hope and dreams are what sustain us and give us the impetus to carry on, even when the path is dimly lit and the load we bear seems too heavy.

On his latest tour, Bruce Springsteen begins his concerts not with a song or a mirror reflecting his storied career. Rather, he begins with a fiery, politically charged opening statement directly addressing the current state of our nation. Stepping onto the stage, he frames his shows not as entertainment but as a principled stand for American values, often kicking off with remarks that pivot into a rendition of Edwin Starr’s protest song “War.”

Springsteen’s opening statement is a passionate, direct critique of the current administration, which he frequently describes as “corrupt, incompetent, racist, rapist, and treasonous.” He frames the administration as “America being suffocated” rather than “America first.” To anyone paying attention to the systematic destruction of our democratic ideal, not to mention the actual destruction of the people’s house, the White House, the Boss’s passionate critique should resonate.

He intersperses his spoken-word sermons throughout the night, focusing on a few consistent, urgent points. On Democracy vs. Authoritarianism, he urges the audience to choose “hope over fear, democracy over authoritarianism, the rule of law over lawlessness, and truth over lies.” Foreign Policy & Alliances: He criticizes the government for alienating allies and undermining NATO—a global order he credits with 80 years of peace. Historical Accuracy: He condemns directives to remove difficult history (such as the brutality of slavery) from museums, famously asking, “You want to talk about snowflakes? We have a president who can’t handle the truth.”

The Call to Action

Springsteen frames the E Street Band’s tour as a defense of the American ideals that have sustained the country. He consistently challenges his audiences to stand up for traditional values—calling on fans to champion honor, character, morality, and true strength amid current political threats.

We shouldn’t need rock-star ballads to wake us to the dangerous reality we live under. Too many people seem to be choosing fear over freedom, acceptance over resistance, and cowardice over courage. I cannot begin to tell you how many people—some in my own family—have warned me: “shhh, hush your mouth, child, be quiet. You never know who is listening to you. You may be putting your life at risk.” But how can life be worth living if one must shut one’s mouth and quiver alone in the darkness because speaking out may be too dangerous? Someone may hear you, someone may scare you, someone may attack you, and take away your autonomy. How can that be a way to live?

As a 1970s Broadway play, “Don’t Bother Me, I Can’t Cope” put it: “That ain’t no way to be nobody!” I’ve lived long enough that I no longer have to worry about dying young. I’ve had a decent life, remained free from incarnation and off the public dole, so when the time comes, I’m ready, my Lord.

The memory of that play reminds me of another Broadway play we saw in New York in the 70s, “Your arms are too short to box with God.”

That is a classic idiom! It means you are completely out of your league, fighting a battle you physically or metaphorically cannot win.

It originally comes from James Weldon Johnson’s poem “The Prodigal Son” and is also the title of Young Man --Young man --Your arms are too short to box with God.

But it’s not God we are boxing with. Rather, it is a corrupt administration led by dullards, crooks, drunks, ex-narcotic addicts, and senile old men with diminished capacity. Why should we be afraid? Why should we run and hide, refusing to stand up for our rights, the rule of law, and democracy? Why are we so afraid? Look behind the curtain. There’s nothing there. No reason to hide in the dark from the weak monsters drunk on their own power.

It’s been an entire lifetime since I left my hopes in Georgia and headed to South Florida and the University. I had my share of hopes and dreams, some of which have come true. Now I have grandchildren, and I have a stake in the kind of world we’re leaving them. So hopes and dreams have not completely faded from my mind. As a follower of the Buddha’s teachings, I realize that the essence of life is change. Whatever is happening now will change; the current cruelties and exploitations will one day be a distant memory. And, to paraphrase Maya Angelou, “Still we’ll rise.”

So, keep the faith

“Big mama,” I said, pulling on my maternal grandmother’s apron to get her attention. For most of my life, I have associated aprons with the warm, soothing presence of loving grandmothers; the simple aprons worn to keep their clothes from getting soiled during housework were part of their nurturing persona.

“What do you want, child?” Big Mama answered in a gruff voice, somehow softened by the loving twinkle in her eyes. She was used to her youngest grandchild’s steady, endless stream of questions.

“When is Imitation of Life coming back to the movie theater downtown? I can hardly wait to see it again.”

“I don’t know, baby. I’ll let you know when I find out.”

Imitation of Life (the 1934 version, not the 1959 one) centers on a white woman and a black woman who become business partners, while focusing on the conflict between the black mother and her light-skinned daughter, who attempts to “pass” as white.

The film reflects the real-world experiences of many light-skinned Black Americans in the early 20th century who passed as white to avoid the era’s systemic [psychotic] racism, a phenomenon the novel addresses to highlight racial discrimination.

Whenever the film came to Blakely, GA, as it did annually, the air in our little neighborhood, the Willis Caine Home Government apartments, was electric with anticipation and hints of foreboding. We watched the movie so many times that we knew the dialogue by heart. Still, we always cried at the movies’ conclusion, when the now-repentant daughter was not allowed to attend her mother’s funeral because she was “white.”

Our tears, I’ve come to believe, were cathartic, easing the pain of being treated so badly by the “white majority” in Early County in the 1950s. They washed away the shame, degradation, and painful labor in the cotton fields. They also helped us cope with Big Mama’s daily trips downtown to cook and clean other families’ houses. At the same time, her young grandchildren had to fend for themselves until she brought home the leftovers, essentially the scraps from the owners’ tables, which they would have otherwise thrown out.

I wasn’t the sharpest kid in “the Projects” in the 1950s (I didn’t learn to read or write until I was two months shy of my 10^th birthday). Once I learned to read, a whole new world and vistas opened up for me. I don’t recall there being any books—certainly not even a Bible—in our little apartment, but I knew something was off about the movie’s premise. If she could “pass as white,” wouldn’t she be white? If you looked white or black, wasn’t that your color? Were there different shades of white, as there were of black? The whole thing made no sense to my young mind.

It still doesn’t make sense to me, even seventy years later. The “racial psychosis” under which most Americans, black and white, live seems impervious to psychological treatment.

Why am I fretting and writing about these painful memories, more than half a century later? You might ask.

In the May 17, 2026, New York Times, I read a lengthy article by journalist Susan Saulny titled “My Family’s American Secret.” The main theme of her article was that discovering her father’s family’s hidden Black identity, something he had kept secret because of the racial dynamics of the time, deeply shaped her understanding of identity, belonging, and what it means to be American. It was about wrestling with those hidden histories and how they shape personal and collective identity.

But the article was yet another sorry installment in America’s apparent incurable racial psychosis. Two brothers, Edward and George DeGrange, were born in New Orleans in 1910 to a black family. As is often the case in black families, siblings could have different skin colors, the legacy of secret racial intermingling. White men would stage clandestine visits to black communities to have intimate relationships with black women.

Edward, the lighter-skinned brother, followed a well-traveled path north to Chicago, where he passed as white. George, the darker-skinned brother, remained in New Orleans, living as a black man and rarely speaking to Edward. Not surprisingly, Edward enjoyed a more successful career than his brother because the doors that opened to him were closed to George.

This, and many other stories, are a stark reminder of how the question of race has destroyed many Americans’ ability to think rationally. They, white and, sadly, some black, have wallowed in the murk of racial inferiority and superiority until they have embraced it, unable to shake it off or refuse to let it go. It’s a familiar sickness of the mind that’s become so common that it’s now accepted as dogma.

Yes, race is widely recognized by scientists, anthropologists, and sociologists as a social construct rather than a biological fact. While physical differences, such as skin color, exist, the way society categorizes people into distinct “races” is arbitrary, varies across cultures, and has no genetic or scientific basis.

The DSM-IV (the standard classification of mental disorders used by mental health professionals, published by the American Psychiatric Association) defines psychosis as a collection of symptoms—primarily hallucinations and delusions—that indicate a loss of contact with reality. It is not a single diagnosis, but a clinical syndrome marked by specific disruptions in thought, perception, and behavior.

The DSM-IV categorizes psychosis through five key features:

Delusions: Strong, fixed false beliefs that persist despite conflicting evidence (e.g., believing one is being persecuted or targeted).

Racial psychosis, it seems to me, is based on the mistaken belief that some “races” are superior to others, even in the face of solid evidence refuting that delusion. All humans share 99.9% of their DNA, which supports the often-stated claim that “we are all brothers.”

The conclusion that we are all brothers is an inconvenient truth for demagogic politicians whose only policy seems to be the power to divide and conquer.

A final word on this important subject. Nonwhite people like President Obama and Neil deGrasse Tyson (and many others) stand as a direct and visible contradiction, which probably explains why Obama is under constant attack from politicians whose only “qualification” is their color.

MUSICAL CODA:

9 August 1945

A second bomb is dropped on Nagasaki

Samuel Johnson wrote: “Depend upon it, sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it wonderfully concentrates his mind.”

By the same token, nothing concentrates a small nation’s resolve to acquire a nuclear weapon like being attacked by a larger, nuclear-armed nation. If you doubt the validity of that statement, ask Ukraine for its viewpoint on the issue.

What has happened to Ukraine since it gave up its nuclear weapons in 1994, following the dissolution of the Soviet Union? The move involved transferring all nuclear warheads to Russia in exchange for economic aid and security assurances. According to the Arms Control Association, Ukraine officially became a non-nuclear-weapon state party to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) on December 5, 1994.

The process was formalized by the Budapest Memorandum, signed on December 5, 1994, by Ukraine, Russia, the United States, and the United Kingdom. The memorandum provided security assurances to Ukraine in exchange for its denuclearization. Although it was intended to guarantee Ukraine’s security, some Ukrainians now question its effectiveness, particularly in light of the 2014 annexation of Crimea and the 2022 invasion by Russia.

Strictly speaking, the missiles belonged to the Soviet Union, not to its newly independent former republics.

But a third of the USSR’s nuclear stockpile was located on Ukrainian soil, and handing over the weapons was considered a significant moment, worthy of international recognition.

“The pledges on security assurances that [we] have given underscore our commitment to the independence, sovereignty, and territorial integrity of these states,” US President Bill Clinton said in Budapest.

As a young graduate of a military academy in Kharkiv, Oleksandr Sushchenko arrived in Pervomais’k two years later, just as decommissioning was underway.

With a sinking heart, he watched as the missiles were removed and the silos were blown up.

Later, back at the base, he became one of the museum’s curators. Looking back after a decade of misery inflicted by Russia, which the international community has seemed unable or unwilling to prevent, he draws an inevitable conclusion.

“Given what’s happening now in Ukraine, my personal view is that it was a mistake to completely destroy all the nuclear weapons,” he says.

“But it was a political issue. The top leadership made the decision, and we simply carried out the orders.”

At the time, everything made perfect sense. No one thought Russia would attack Ukraine within 20 years.

“We were naive, but we also trusted,” says Serhiy Komisarenko, who served as Ukraine’s ambassador to London in 1994.

“When Britain, the United States, and then France joined,” he says, “we thought that’s enough, you know. And Russia as well.”

For a poor country just emerging from decades of Soviet rule, the idea of maintaining a ruinously expensive nuclear arsenal made little sense.

“Why use money to build or maintain nuclear weapons,” Komisarenko says, “if you can use it for industry and prosperity?”

But the anniversary of the fateful 1994 agreement is now being used by Ukraine to make a point.

Later, at the NATO foreign ministers’ meeting in Brussels, Ukraine’s Foreign Minister Andriy Sybiha brandished a green folder containing a copy of the Budapest Memorandum.

“This document failed to secure Ukrainian and transatlantic security,” he said. “We must avoid repeating such mistakes.”

Other nations, including Iran, have taken notice of Ukraine’s predicament and the assurances given. These nations have concluded that they cannot rely on protectors, especially the United States, whose political landscape continues to shift. As in one’s personal affairs, the only assurance a nation can have is that it is responsible for its own safety. No one is coming to save them. They must save themselves.

Can you imagine another nation telling the United States it could no longer have nuclear weapons?

What must Iran be thinking? Perhaps exactly this:

History is a keen teacher and a dependable harbinger of what may come, given a specific action an individual or a nation might take now or in the future.

While Iran is prohibited from developing nuclear weapons, Israel, Iran’s mortal enemy, is widely believed to possess them. However, Israel neither confirms nor denies this. Estimates suggest the country has about 90 warheads and enough fissile material for more. These weapons are thought to be deliverable by missiles, submarines, and aircraft. For

If you were Iran, what would you do? Iran remembers what happened to Ukraine after it gave up its nuclear weapons; therefore, would it be wise for Iran to follow Ukraine’s foolish example?

We live in a world dominated by Darwinian principles, where only the strong survive. Strong nations, such as Russia and the United States, can bully smaller, weaker nations. Even now, as we speak, the American President has not withdrawn his threat to forcibly take over not one or two, but three sovereign nations: Canada, Greenland, and the Panama Canal. He has even threatened to invade Gaza, remove its 1.9 million people, and build a Riviera in the Middle East.

“After we finish with Iran, Cuba is next,” he recently promised, without a hint of irony.

We have yet to hear him threaten to invade a nuclear-armed nation.

In this sort of Wild, Wild West, where principles of international law and norms of comity (courtesy and considerate behavior toward others) no longer apply, it would be folly for any smaller, weaker nations to resist arming themselves against behemoth bullies who possess weapons superior to theirs.

Forget the bluster and bullying coming from DC, and instead ask, Does the United States have legitimate authority to unilaterally impose its will on another sovereign nation? Who elected the US God, or the guardian of the flame of world peace?

Keep in mind that, in the history of the world, only one nation has ever used a nuclear weapon against another nation. It’s beyond ironic that the bomb was dropped by the same nation trying to dictate what other nations can have nuclear weapons. That’s like a pedophile saying other pedophiles should stay away from underage kids.

The United States should look at the man in the mirror.

MUSICAL CODA:

PASTOR MEGAN SMITH, CORAL GABLES CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH

This post will be the brightest, most thoughtful Ray of Light! That’s not braggadocious because I did not write it; rather, it is a sermon delivered by Pastor Megan Smith (no, we are not related) last Sunday at the Coral Gables Congregational Church in Coral Gables, Florida (the home of The U). CGCC is the church my wife and I attended and continue to attend when we visit Miami. We continue to worship there electronically when possible.

CGCC is the sort of church you do not need to be a Christian (which I am not) to appreciate because its core principle is about service to others, the community, and the whole world. The church and the incredible head pastor, Laurie, welcome all: gay, straight, trans, Jewish, Muslim, avowed atheists, Buddhists (like me), black, white, Cuban, etc. If more churches in the world were like this one, I believe the world would be at peace. This church is the most welcoming space we have ever entered!

Pastor Smith’s sermon last Sunday touched me deeply. I think it will touch you as well.

Sermon on John 10:1–10

Let us Pray: May the Words of my mouth and the meditations of each of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God, our Rock and our Redeemer.

Growing up in Queens, NY, I regularly attended Sunday School at church. I have a clear memory of being in 1st Grade and walking into my Sunday School classroom, being handed a sheep sticker by my teacher, and walking to the wall to place the sheep sticker on the “Megan” Attendance poster. Yes, every child had their own poster of Jesus, holding a shepherd’s staff, standing in a beautiful green and flowering meadow. My job was to surround Jesus with his flock of sheep by attending Sunday School each Sunday. It was clear to me that I was a sheep, Jesus was my shepherd, and he knew my name from the Poster!

I loved it! However, beautiful as it was, living in NYC, like our children growing up in the city of Miami, I had never seen a real shepherd! I had seen sheep in a zoo, but never a shepherd. Yet my church stories were full of shepherds like Abel, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, King David, females like Rachel and Zipporah-yep- you heard me-they were shepherds too, and of course those Christmas Eve shepherds keeping watch over their flock by night!

Beloved, in the midst of this Easter Season, we have been hearing stories of the Resurrected Jesus. Today’s passage from the Gospel of John is not one of those. This scripture takes place before Jesus’ crucifixion. Today’s passage invites us into a world of sheep flocks, gates, shepherds, and voices. At first glance, it may feel distant—ancient imagery from a rural past. But beneath the surface, Jesus is speaking to something profoundly contemporary: Who do we trust? Whose voice shapes our lives? And what does abundant life really mean?

Jesus begins with a warning. There are those who climb over walls, who bypass the gate, who come not to care, but to exploit. He names them plainly: thieves and bandits. And if we are honest, we know these voices well.

They are the voices that tell us we are not enough unless we achieve more, earn more, and consume more. They are the systems that profit from fear, division, and scarcity. They are the powers that dehumanize, that reduce beloved children of God into categories, statistics, or threats.

In every age, including ours, there are thieves of the soul.

But then Jesus shifts the image. He does not just warn, he reveals: “I am the gate.” Not a barrier to keep people out, but an opening into safety, dignity, and belonging. A threshold, not of exclusion, but of invitation.

As the theologian and Presbyterian minister, Frederick Beekner once wrote, “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” That is the gate Jesus speaks of, not a narrow checkpoint, but an opening where human need and divine love meet in life-giving ways.

*And this is where our progressive Christian voice leans in carefully and courageously.

Because for too long, this text has been used to draw lines, in versus out, saved versus unsaved, us versus them. But Jesus is not describing a gated community for the spiritually elite. He is describing a living, breathing relationship of care and recognition. The sheep know the shepherd’s voice, not because they’ve passed a test, but because they are known. “They are called by name.” To be called by name is to be seen. Fully. Tenderly. Without condition.

And so the question is not: Who is in and who is out?

The deeper question is: What voices are calling us, and do they lead to life?

A few years ago, a teacher in a Miami-Dade County public high school noticed something troubling. One of her students—quiet, withdrawn—had started skipping class. When he did show up, he kept his head down. Other students whispered about him. Some made fun of him openly. There were many voices surrounding that young person.

Voices that said: You don’t belong here. Voices that said: You are a problem to be managed. Voices that said: Disappear.

And then there was the teacher.

Instead of writing him off, she began greeting him by name every day. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just consistently. “Good morning, Jeremy. I’m glad you’re here.” At first, he barely responded. But she kept going. She made space for him. Checked in after class. Connected him with support. Protected him when other students crossed the line. Weeks turned into months. Slowly, something shifted. He started showing up more. He started speaking, just a little. He started believing that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t invisible.

Years later, at graduation, he found her, that teacher, in the crowd. And he said something simple but profound: “You were the only voice I trusted.”

Beloved, that is what Jesus is talking about. “The sheep hear his voice! He calls his own sheep by name.” In a world full of noise, accusation, judgment, and indifference, the voice of Christ sounds like recognition. It sounds like someone refusing to give up on you. It sounds like love that keeps showing up. As Howard Thurman reminds us, “There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself.” The voice of the Good Shepherd resonates with that “sound of the genuine”, calling us not into fear, but into our truest, most beloved selves.

The Good Shepherd is not distant or indifferent, but deeply trustworthy, even when the path ahead is unclear, leading us toward life we cannot yet fully see.

And Jesus gives us a way to know the voice to trust, and the voice to tune out: Jesus said, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” Not survival. Not mere existence. Not life hoarded by a few, while others go without.

Abundant life is expansive. It is justice rolling down like waters. It is communities where no one is left outside the fold. It is a table where there is enough for all.

Abundant life looks like dignity for immigrants, safety for children, healthcare for the sick, liberation for the oppressed, and belonging for those the world has rejected.

If a voice, religious or political, leads to exclusion, fear, or harm, Jesus gives us clarity: that is not the shepherd’s voice. The shepherd’s voice leads to life. And notice this: the shepherd does not drive the sheep from behind. He goes ahead of them. He leads. This is not coercion. This is not domination. This is an accompaniment.

The Christ we follow does not force us into obedience but invites us into trust. Moves ahead of us into places we are afraid to go, into reconciliation, into justice, into love that costs something.

And we follow, not because we are afraid, but because we recognize the voice. A voice that sounds like mercy. A voice that sounds like truth.

A voice that sounds like love that refuses to give up on anyone.

And here is the good news: that voice is still speaking.

It speaks in the cries of those who are suffering, for those who have ears to hear. It speaks in the quiet nudge toward compassion. It speaks in communities that choose courage over comfort.

The challenge before us, then, is not simply to believe in the shepherd, but to discern the voice. To ask ourselves: Does this path lead to life for all, or just for some? Does this belief expand love, or restrict it? Does this action reflect the abundance of God, or the scarcity of fear?

Because the gate is open. The Good News is the invitation Stands. An abundant life is not something we wait for in the next world; it is something we are called to participate in right now. To build. To protect. To extend.

So, may we learn to recognize the voice of the Good Shepherd, not in exclusion, but in embrace. Not in fear, but in freedom. Not in scarcity, but in abundance.

And may we become, in our own way, like that teacher, voices of steady, faithful love, calling others by name, creating spaces of safety, and walking together into the wide, flowering green pastures of God’s justice and love.

Amen.

MUSICAL CODA:

I think Mark Twain got it wrong: History does repeat itself, but we’re too preoccupied with the present to notice. If we’ve ever taken the time to notice, we’ve forgotten. The circularity of time is elusive.

There’s no evidence, however, that history has ever rhymed, not one bit. These are just two of the intriguing lessons that Milan Kundera’s beguiling “novel” “The Book of Laughter and Forgetting,” published in 1979, reveals to us.

One day, an American writer will sit down to write a book that contains faint yet undeniable echoes of “The Book of Laughter and Forgetting” and will note how similar some of its events are to current events in the West. They will have read Milan Kundera’s exquisite novel, of course, and will have seen the parallels between what was happening in Czechoslovakia and what has happened in America in recent years.

Long before anyone had heard of, let alone read, “The Unbearable Lightness of Being,” Milan Kundera had published the exquisitely titled and brilliantly written “The Book of Laughter and Forgetting.” It is a rich blend of the personal and the political, with the vagaries of human memory at its core. Kundera makes you feel how fragile history is when people forget—and how laughter can be both liberating and a form of resistance.

By far the most unforgettable line in the book is “The struggle a man has against power is a struggle of memory against forgetting.” The second most unforgettable line is “to have to hide and feel guilty would be to begin a defeat.” Many of these events relate to the “Prague Spring” and to the corrosive effects of tyranny.

The Prague Spring of 1968 was a brief but significant period of reform in Czechoslovakia, led by Alexander Dubček. The goal was to create a more open and humane form of socialism. Censorship was eased, citizens gained greater freedoms, and efforts were made to introduce political pluralism.

However, these reforms were halted when Soviet-led Warsaw Pact forces invaded in August 1968, suppressing the movement. Although the Prague Spring ended quickly, it left a lasting legacy, inspiring future opposition movements and contributing to the eventual collapse of communism two decades later.

In 1971, Czechoslovakia was well into the “Normalization” period that followed the suppression of the Prague Spring. After the 1968 invasion, the regime gradually rolled back reforms and reasserted strict authoritarian control. By then, the regime had consolidated power, purged reformists, and enforced strict political conformity.

The Communist Party held elections in 1971, but they were tightly controlled and symbolic, intended to reinforce the status quo rather than signal change. In essence, 1971 marked the regime’s firm entrenchment, leaving little room for dissent.

After 1972, Czechoslovakia remained firmly under the grip of “Normalization.” Throughout the 1970s and into the 1980s, dissent was harshly repressed. The state apparatus maintained strict ideological control, and public life was subdued. Many intellectuals and reformers were sidelined or persecuted. Yet underground opposition—such as the Charter 77 movement—emerged, advocating human rights and political freedoms. Ultimately, this repressive period endured until the late 1980s, when the Velvet Revolution in 1989 brought an end to communist rule.

Martina Navratilova, the Czech tennis star, puts a human face on the human tragedy of authoritarianism. She was unable to return to her homeland after defecting from Czechoslovakia in 1975 until the Velvet Revolution. She first returned briefly in 1986 for her mother’s wedding under special circumstances, but after the communist regime fell in 1989, she returned more freely and without restrictions. The political change allowed her to visit freely as a U.S. citizen without fear of repercussions.

At the 1981 U.S. Open, Tracy Austin defeated Martina Navratilova in the final, winning in straight sets (1–6, 7–6, 7–6). Martina Navratilova became emotional as she spoke about not being able to return home to Czechoslovakia. It was a poignant reminder of her exile. Moments like that were powerful. Her emotions reflected the deep personal cost of being separated from home under an oppressive regime. It’s a stark reminder of how political circumstances profoundly impact individual lives. Thankfully, with the fall of communism, she was able to reconcile with that part of her life.

In 1971, the citizens of the Czech Republic, then Czechoslovakia, understood that the constitution did indeed guarantee freedom of speech, but it was an empty guarantee. Still, the laws punished anything that could be considered an attack on state security.

The greatest insult one could receive during those dark and dismal days was being labeled an intellectual, implying a lack of understanding of life. Intellectuals were considered cut off from the people, and devotion to the authoritarian regime was valued more than competence.

When the Russian army invaded Bohemia, everyone’s livelihood was affected. Everything that had been for the people was now for the regime. Competent professionals were considered the elite and could be stripped of everything. The slightest allegation that an “intellectual” enjoyed the powers of position would prompt the regime to punish them and “take away their bread.” Being an “announcer”—— an informer to the regime—— became a political occupation.

We first visited Brno, Milan Kundera’s birthplace, in the early 2000s, when our Czech-speaking daughter was pursuing her doctoral degree at Masaryk University. Masaryk is one of the Czech Republic’s leading universities. Founded in 1919, it was named after Tomáš Masaryk, the first president of Czechoslovakia. It’s renowned for its research, modern approach to education, and a diverse range of programs across the humanities, sciences, and medicine. With a large student population, it’s a major cultural and intellectual hub in the city.

Exploring Brno in the early 2000s, I imagined someone might experience a layered sense of time—the charm of cobbled streets, the legacy of thinkers like Mendel, and the hum of burgeoning creativity. You’d likely feel a comfortable blend of old-world atmosphere and lively modern energy, all underpinned by the warmth of Moravian hospitality.

Brno is the Czech Republic’s second-largest city, but it feels more laid-back than Prague. It’s a fascinating mix: a historic city with medieval castles and churches, yet also a vibrant university hub and a modern center of innovation. It’s known for its café culture, local Moravian wine, and a strong design scene. It’s a city where old meets new—intimate, lively, and full of character. An odd energy seemed to emanate from the Czech citizens seen on these ancient streets. The entire city seems to be letting out a huge sigh of relief, perhaps because not so long ago, they had suffered as prisoners of the Russian regime.

There was also an undercurrent of anxiety, as if some invisible force could suddenly take away their relatively newfound freedom. On a Monday morning, the people of Brno are dressed to the nines, as they say, in an aggressive display of newfound personal freedom. Here and there, one sees bleak reminders of the communist past: Communist-era housing in Brno, known as paneláky (prefabricated concrete panel blocks), characterizes many residential areas, especially on the city’s outskirts, with major estates like Vinohrady and Líšeň built between the 1960s and 1990s. These buildings, often called “rabbit warrens,” are being renovated and painted, making them popular again amid the current housing crisis.

Kundera’s international recognition grew after the 1984 publication of his novel “The Unbearable Lightness of Being.” Set against the backdrop of the 1968 Prague Spring and the subsequent Soviet invasion, the novel explores the complexities of relationships, personal choices, and the weight of existence. It became a literary sensation and was adapted into a successful film in 1988.

The question that still lingers over Brno and other parts of Eastern Europe (and now, even here in the West) is whether history is on the verge of repeating itself, without any rhyme or reason.

Next time, there will be no laughter or forgetting.

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