Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Release the hounds!!!

Gareth Armstrong, as Shylock

“The mere receipt of an order backed by force seems, if anything, to give rise to the duty of resisting, rather than obeying.” – H. A. Prichard

Canine "leash laws" are a matter of controversy, even among friends. It turns out that they also can be the foundation of bad relationships between neighbors. Living on my street is a man - we'll call him Shylock - who persistently and obnoxiously believes in the letter of the law, and thus objects to the practice of off-leash dog walking, no matter the total isolation, late hour, harmlessness of hypothetical dog, nor other circumstance. Conversely, others on my block believe merely in the spirit of such laws: dog owners must be in complete control of their dogs, and are absolutely responsible for their behavior. After all, if a dog bites, do you care if she's on a leash? I have heard that Shylock's zealous support for the letter of the law has resulted in calls to "the police", though not surprisingly, I have yet to see a Fulton County Animal Control officer on my street... ever.

I make my living by promoting ethical behavior in organizations, a neighborhood being but one example. Not taking into account Shylock's arrogant and bullying style, the ongoing conflict troubles me deeply from a moral point of view: Is a violation of the leash law also a moral wrong? Do we have moral obligations to obey every law, no matter how silly we think one might be?

Laws are statements of minimal social norms. Societies create laws to describe behavior that is either required or unacceptable. Given this absolute quality, one hopes that all laws - which are coercive by nature - are grounded in some sense of shared morality, but the inescapable truth is that The Law is morally fallible, and specific laws are corrected or even repealed using this very rationale. The reality is that some laws unjustly restrict a citizen's liberties or infringe on personal rights and obligations without a compelling moral argument for doing so. These immoral laws should be resisted on principle. Do "leash laws" fall into this category?

I believe that some do. Many leash laws in Georgia do not go so far as to require an actual leash, specifying only that the dog must respond to voice commands and be "at heal" in the presence of others. This makes sense to me, because those laws articulate a reasonable expectation of responsibility and control, but do not dictate the type of control. However, the overly sensitive Fulton County statue to which this neighborhood is subject requires a six foot fixed length lead. Why? Why six (why not seven)? Why fixed? Who can say? From a practical perspective, these leash laws are motivated by the bad behavior of dogs that have not been trained properly by their owners. All the dogs I know at the center of this conflict are small, harmless, non-agressive, and well-trained. If the specific dog is small, harmless, non-aggressive, and well-trained, then what, exactly, is the law trying to achieve in this case?

The Fulton County leash law (and Shylock) is attempting to force dog owners to perform in an arbitrary way that may or may not have any relevance in a given situation, and as such is an inappropriate government infringement upon individual personal liberty. The law actually prevents the dog owner from taking personal (voluntary) responsibility for his own (or his dog's) actions. Much like helmet laws, leash laws start from the presumption that citizens are dumb, insensitive to context, and in need of parenting. So, Fulton County would like to be my daddy, but can I say no?

I encourage all responsible dog owners who have harmless, non-agressive, well-trained dogs that respond immediately to voice commands to resist overly aggressive leash laws by practicing civil disobedience.

Civil disobedience is a violation of the law without any loss of respect for law and the other basic political institutions generally acknowledged to be fair and just. Speaking most generally, civil disobedience is that act which knowingly violates a law, committed in deference to a higher order (like natural rights), or in support of a cause greater than the actor himself (like liberty) and the law itself. Under John Rawls’ strict interpretation, civil disobedience is a public, nonviolent, conscientious yet political act contrary to law, usually done with the aim of bringing about a change in the law or policies of the government.

Civil disobedience is a form of political statement, an invitation for others to join in a just cause. Civil disobedience is deliberate lawlessness, and can be classified as either direct (by breaking the very law that is objectionable) or indirect (by breaking laws which are not objectionable, but which call attention to the wrong). Lastly, acts of civil disobedience must be conscientious, which generally means that one acts out of an honest and sincere conviction that what one is doing is the uniquely correct thing to do, no matter what the personal cost. This stipulation rules out the motives of private or personal gain, or malevolent emotion as primary factors. The actor’s willingness to suffer inconvenience, expense, threats, real danger and punishment helps to demonstrate that his purpose is to protest a greater social injustice or wrong and not to achieve some immediate gain for himself.

So, if you are a responsible dog owner, act on principle and release the hounds!!

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

The false self.

In a previous post, I quoted a well-known passage in Henri J. M. Nouwen's book, The Way of the Heart, a work I had not read. I'm reading it now, and finding it very thoughtful. Here is a more lengthy excerpt:

"The secular or false self is the self which is fabricated, as Thomas Merton says, by social compulsions.  'Compulsive' is indeed the best adjective for the false self. It points to the need for ongoing and increasing affirmation. Who am I? I am the one who is liked, praised, admired, disliked, hated, or despised. Whether I am a pianist, a business man, or a minister, what maters is how I am perceived by my world. If being busy is a good thing, then I must be busy. If having money is a sign of real freedom, then I must claim my money. If knowing many people proves my importance, I will have to make the necessary contacts. The compulsion manifests itself in the lurking fear of failing and the steady urge to prevent this by gathering more of the same - more work, more money, more friends.

These very compulsions are at the basis of the two main enemies of the spiritual life: anger and greed. They are the inner side of a secular life, the sour fruits of our worldly dependencies. What else is anger than the impulsive response to the experience of being deprived? When my sense of self depends on what others say of me, anger is a quite natural reaction to a critical world. And when my sense of self depends on what I can acquire, greed flares up when my desires are frustrated. Thus greed and anger are brother and sister of a false self fabricated by the social compulsions of an unredeemed world."

The image above is "Versace Veiled Dress, El Mirage" (1990), by Herb Ritts (the artist who took perhaps my favorite image of all time).

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Flight of fancy.



I have fallen for the first season of the HBO production, "Flight of the Conchords". It is one of the rare television programs that is consistently funny, creative and yet somehow oddly relevant. The show is part absurdist / deadpan comedy, part musical theater. It's also a shade risque and a little edgy.

Above is the probably-not-safe-for-work song, "A kiss is not a contract". Here are other random (neither boss nor child-friendly) video clips of their music: a) Business time, b) Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros, c) If you're into it, d) She's so hot, e) Mutha Uckers, and, f) Sugarlumps. Each makes me laugh out loud.

Friday, July 25, 2008

More standing.

"New York City Skyline" (1940), by Leon Dolice

Another interesting passage from the book I'm reading, "I'll Take my Stand: The South and the Agrarian Tradition":

"Religion can hardly expect to flourish in an industrial society. Religion is our submission to the general intention of a nature that is fairly inscrutable; it is the sense of our role as creatures within it. But nature industrialized, transformed into cities and artificial habitations manufactured into commodities, is no longer nature but a highly simplified picture of nature. We receive the illusion of having power over nature, and lose the sense of nature as something mysterious and contingent.

Nor do the arts have a proper life under industrialism, with the general decay of sensibility which attends it. Art depends, in general, like religion, on a right attitude to nature and in particular on a free and disinterested observation of nature that occurs only in leisure. Neither the creation nor the understanding of works of art is possible in an industrial age except by some local and unlikely suspension of the industrial drive.

The amenities of life also suffer under the curse of a strictly-business or industrial civilization. They consist in such practices as manners, conversation, hospitality, sympathy, family life, romantic love - in the social exchanges which reveal and develop sensibility in human affairs. If religion and the arts are founded on right relations of man-to-nature, these are founded on right relations of man-to-man."

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Jabberwocky

"Farm Road" (1979), by Andrew Wyeth

Below is the favorite poem of many: "Jabberwocky" by Lewis Carroll, from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872.  I know people who talk like this.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Aw yeah...

Frankly, I don't know why this is so funny to me, but it is, and it has been for many years now. Awwww yeahh....

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

City Life

"Room in Brooklyn" (1932), by Edward Hopper

In The Art of Travel, Alain de Botton describes the city dweller's need to travel in the countryside by referencing the poems of William Wordsworth, who

"... proposed that nature - which he took to comprise, among other elements, birds, streams, daffodils and sheep - was an indispensable corrective to the psychological damage inflicted by life in the city.

The poet accused cities of fostering a family of life-destroying emotions: anxiety about our position in the social hierarchy, envy at the success of others, pride and a desire to shine in the eyes of strangers.  City dwellers had no perspective, he alleged, they were in thrall to what was spoken of in the street or at the dinner table.  However well provided for, they had a relentless desire for new things, which they did not genuinely lack and on which their happiness did not depend.  And in this crowded, anxious sphere, it seemed harder than it did on an isolated homestead to begin sincere relationships with others."

An excerpt from Wordsworth's "Lines written a few miles above Tintern Abbey":

[Nature] can so inform 
The mind that is within us, so impress 
With quietness and beauty, and so feed 
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, 
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 
The dreary intercourse of daily life, 
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 
Our chearful faith that all which we behold 
Is full of blessings.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Anger


"Seneca on Anger" by Alain de Botton

Over the last several years, I have felt in myself and in many of my close friends a growing store of anger, regret, resentment, and disillusionment. Perhaps this is merely what They call "middle age", or "the onset of reality", but it's grim stuff, and it has many of my contemporaries well within its grasp. And not just a few.  A satisfying explanation for why these emotions are so pervasive among the smart, peaceful and prosperous currently eludes me (even after watching the video), but there it is.

This transition is associated with a growing sadness about the world, an acceptance of the inevitability of cruelty and disappointment, a questioning about the natural order and purpose, and a loss of both optimism and hope. It is clearly linked to a weakening of spiritual faith - any belief that God "cares".

Last week, I was (sorta) joking with a friend that recently I have embraced pessimism as a time-saving device, and today I come across the video above suggesting that it could be more: a successful coping mechanism. To reduce anger, Seneca suggests that we manage (adjust downwardly) our expectations about life. While this makes sense at some level, it is an approach decidedly lacking in all those natural, joyful inclinations that make life worth living, and borders on hopelessness itself. Though perhaps it proves that cynics are optimists run down by reality.

My grandmother used to tell me that happiness (and optimism) is a choice, and this was a choice that she had to make every day.  In contrast, Seneca starts from the Buddhist position that to be happy is to suffer less, and to suffer less we must suffer in advance, to prevent disillusionment when the inevitable occurs.  Frankly, I suspect that my grandmother was far happier than Seneca must have been.

Still, it's an intelligent, interesting video. It is part of a series by Alain de Botton, author of The Art of Travel, and The Consolations of Philosophy, from which these videos are derived.

UPDATE: The timing of William Kristol's uplifting piece in Monday's New York Times about Tony Snow and the nature of optimism couldn't be better. Thanks to Captain / Doctor / Professor / Momma Betsy Holmes for the heads-up.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Stink Gorilla More

The essay found here is a collection of thought-provoking ideas surrounding the nature of art, humanity, expression, morality and abstraction.  It reminds me of a story on Will's blog about a man who associates mathematical concepts like Pi with colors, lights, and feelings, and it makes me wonder if our whole notion of "abstraction" and "concept" are too restrictive.  Perhaps the categories of "real", "think" and "feel" are far more fluid than we imagine them to be.

The top image to the left is "Stink Gorilla More" (1983), and below is "Anger" (1984), both by Michael.

Monday, July 7, 2008

Da Da Da.

There is something extraordinarily decadent about this minimalist 80s classic from the one-hit-wonders known as "Trio". Who would have thunk that a song comprising nonsensical German and repetitious babble would be co-opted by the likes of Volkswagen, Pepsi, and even Microsoft?

Friday, July 4, 2008

The Peachtree

Mark and John Truslow, photo by Patti Truslow

Today I ran The Peachtree Road Race, a 39 year old tradition integral to Atlanta's celebration of Independence Day. The Peachtree is a 10k for which I started training at the beginning of April primarily in an attempt to lose some weight (20 pounds so far, more to go) and also to participate in something I'm often too lazy even to watch.

I can not boast about my results, beyond saying that I ran the whole way. That in itself is quite an achievement for me, as I could not run at all in April and could not run much more than three miles at the end of May. Somehow, I made it.

Actually, I made it with the positive encouragement of my brother. I knew that I wanted to lose the weight, and he not only gave me the athletic goal, but the constant support that I needed to get it done. Thank you, Mark.