The Drive to Work - Yet Again

 OK, this is the last morning picture of Bliss Pond that I'm going to post, at least until the next one.

I mean, come on, that's beautiful. 

2025 Reading 93

 For a really lone time I've had a historical/political man-crush on Eugene V. Debs, and I've often portrayed myself as "that other Hoosier socialist." To this day, I think that arguing for anyone other than Debs for greatest Hoosier or all-time is just a stupid argument. Anyway, I finally got around to reading Nick Salvatore's Eugene V. Debs: Citizen and Socialist, the award-winning (and justifiably so) biography of the Indiana socialist. It's strange to think of a time when Indiana was not a radical right wing hellscape (not that it was a bastion of liberal thought at the end of the 19th and early 20th centuries, but at least it could produce someone like Debs) and when America still believed that it could be a better place and actually thought about the plight of the working class. There were many fascinating and moving moments in the book (and not simply that his long-time mistress was Mabel Curry from Franklin), but one of the most emotionally uplifting/draining was the description of the day Debs was released from prison after serving three years for speaking out against America's entry into World War I:

     On Christmas afternoon Theodore and a group of Socialist comrades met Debs at the gates of Atlanta Penitentiary. As they joyfully and tearfully embraced and fervently kissed one another, a low rumbling in the background intensified. Warden Fred Zerbst, in violation of every prison regulation, had opened each cell block to allow the more than 2,300 inmates to throng to the front of the main jail building to bid a final goodbye to their friend. Turning away from the prison, Gene started down the long walkway to the parked car. As he did, a roar of pain and love welled up from the prison behind him. With tears streaming down his face, he turned and, hat in hand, stretched out his arms. Twice more, as he walked to the car, the prisoners demanded his attention. Twice more he reached to embrace them. At the car, a terribly thin and drained Debs offered one final good-bye and quickly entered.

     Union men might have smoothed his journey to jail, but Debs remained the only American who could evoke such love and admiration from this primarily working-class prison population. One of his first actions upon release again suggested why Debs was so loved. On the way to the train that would take him to Washington and an interview with the president, Debs removed from his wallet the five dollar bill prison regulations provided each released prisoner. With a short note, he sent it to the committee working for the release of Bartolomeo Vanzetti and Nicola Sacco, two working-class Italian immigrant anarchists accused of murder by a Massachusetts court. There would not be another American radical like him for some time.

It's hard to imagine that there ever way another American radical like him, ever, before or after. One of my few regrets, probably the only one, from my trip west with my great friend Sanford was our failure to make the Eugene V. Debs Museum in Terre Haute in time (we arrived too late in the afternoon) for a visit. I could imagine a world wherein the only time I make it back to Indiana would be to visit the museum.

The Drive to Work - Again

 OK, so I know I just posted a picture of Bliss Pond that I snapped on my drive to work the other day, but here's another one. Lately I've been been taking the shortcut (although I suspect it's a couple minutes longer) and bailing off and on to County Road from Bliss Pond Road. This is especially a nice treat in the morning (it's dark by the time I get home on Mondays - and will soon be in the mornings as well, sadly) and it inspires me to drive on to Burlington to grind out my last year.

My friend Jack thinks that may be Champ in the middle, although maybe we need a new name: Blissy?

2025 Readings 92

 Here's another book that I had never read, but, in this case, I had never heard of until recently. I suppose that's not too surprising since, by definition, there are millions of books I've never heard of. This is strange because it's related to Indiana, and you would have thought I would have heard about it - seen it featured in some discussion of books with a Hoosier connection or even it front and center in a bookstore in Indiana (I suppose such things exist, although I can't remember one off hand). However, maybe it's not that strange. Anyway, a couple days ago I finished Budi Darma's People From Bloomington. Darma, originally from Indonesia (and already a successful writer there), earned his Ph.D. in literature at IU in the 1970s (writing his dissertation on Jane Austin, of all people). People From Bloomington is a collection of short stories, which, much like Sherwood Anderson's Winesburg, Ohio, comes together to form a novel. I always scold my students for not reading the introduction to the books I assign them, and this was another great example of why it's beneficial to do so. It's pointed out that one of the things that makes the collection so interesting is that instead of the myriad examples of western writers writing on the exotic other in places like India or Africa or the Middle East, here's an Indonesian writer reflecting upon the exotic other in the west. What comes across is a not particularly flattering portrayal of Hoosiers, which, truthfully, I think it pretty spot-on. In Indiana we pride ourselves on being friendly souls - or at least that's part of our mythology - but there's also a definite closed-minded cruelty to Hoosiers. Every four years the first states that are called are Vermont (unfailingly) for the Democratic candidate and Indiana (unfailingly for the Republican candidate). In the old days I suppose that would have been fine, although my old home state has gone passionately MAGA, and I would argue that it's a reflection of the callousness that Darma captured in People From Bloomington. Anyway, I'd definitely recommend the book. It was uneven, but some of the short stories were staggeringly good. 

The Gloaming

 Here's a picture I snapped the other night as Janet and I were heading home. It seems to fit my mood. Yesterday I emailed the administrators at Champlain to let them officially know that I'm retiring after the spring semester. Yes, I've officially entered The Gloaming. This morning my dear friend Cyndi told me that the place wouldn't be the same without me, and I replied that that's the great mythology. Instead, by next fall I'll be a vague memory. However, that's OK, and foolish and counterproductive to think otherwise. As Marcus Aurelius reminded us, "Soon you will have forgotten the world, and the world will have forgotten you."

Here's a shot of Sodom Pond (which is right across the street from the Adamant Coop) in the gloaming. There's a little break in the trees as you wind around Sodom Pond road, and I'd hate to think how many times I've stopped in the middle of the road (one of the advantages is driving around on Vermont's dirt roads) to take a picture, although I don't know if I like any of them as much as I like this one.

2025 Readings 91

 I just read Timothy Snyder's On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century (Graphic Edition). This book has been all the rage for a few months now, although this was the new graphic edition. My friend Sandy had received a copy on his birthday, so I decided to pick up the graphic edition for myself. I'm looking for books for my new Images of Fascism film class, and I'm going to pair Snyder's book with Jason Stanley's How Fascism Works: The Politics of Us and Them (which I discussed earlier in this series of posts on 2025 readings). I liked Snyder's book very much, although it's difficult to read it at this moment in time (although, of course, it's the perfect moment in time to read it). I'm amazed when I hear people, many of them in the main stream media, who make tentative statements about how we seem to be on the road to authoritarianism, when it's absolutely clear that we're already there. So many of Snyder's lessons are absolutely chilling. 

For instance: Lesson 1 Do Not Obey in Advance

"Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do."

This may be a fairly obvious bit of advice, although so few people seem to understand it, but it's so damningly true. US corporations and most of the media and seemingly all of Congress have raced against each other to give away freedom with both hands. 

Or: Lesson 2 Defend Institutions

"It is institutions that help us to preserve decency. They need our help as well. Do not speak of 'our institutions' unless you make them yours by acting on their behalf. Institutions do not protect themselves. They fall one after the other unless each is defended from the beginning. So choose an institution you care about - a court, a newspaper, a law, a labor union - and take its side."

I gave a talk last spring on American Exceptionalism and how dangerous the concept is (beyond the fact that it's just a big lie). The collapse of our institutions is partially a result of our belief that they simply couldn't fail - we're Americans, right?

I'm not going to discuss all of them, partially because you should go buy this book, actually, buy several copies and give them as gifts. However, let me just mention one more, mainly because it really hit me: Lesson 9 Be Kind to Our Language

"Avoid pronouncing the phrases everyone else does. Think up your own way of speaking, even if only to convey that thing you think everyone is saying. Make an effort to separate yourself from the internet. Read books."

I think this one jumped out at me so dramatically because I see how my students are so completely unprepared to follow this particular directive.

Anyway, Snyder's book is heartily recommended. The illustrations from Nora Krug are also alternately delightful and heartbreaking.

Crossword

 The other day I received my first Debs Foundation Newsletter, which all the cool kids who support the Eugene V. Debs Foundation get. I don't support a lot of philanthropic organizations - at least as many as I would like - but I'm happy to support the Debs Foundation and the Scudder hospital in India. I've usually just volunteered my time, but as my body has broken down that's more of a challenge. I need to be more creative in finding ways to support projects that I think are important.

Seriously, I was tempted to make a mad dash back to Indiana to attend this event. In my rich imagination, I figured that Bernie and I would just carpool there and back.

I didn't expect to find a crossword puzzle, which I need to tackle soon. I should just turn Janet loose on it - she has mad crossword skills. Hmmm, what's a seven letter word for Indiana's second most famous socialist?