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Thursday, September 19, 2002
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Sohail Inayatullah writes: This new era, however, for Sarkar is not one that pits spirituality against science. Sarkar believes that technological development controlled by non-capitalists, by humanists, will lead to increased economic growth, intellectual development and social equality. Sarkar, in fact, sees the development of technology that will have "mind" in it, that is, technology that will have some level of self-awareness. Most likely this will result from developments in artificial intelligence. Sarkar also forecasts that once full employment is reached, and once the untapped potential of humans, individually and collectively, is increasingly realized, instead of massive unemployment because of productivity gains from robotics, we will simply reduce our work week, such that "one day, we may only work five minutes a week. Being not always engrossed in the anxiety about grains and clothes, there will be no misuse of mental and spiritual wealth. [We] will be able to devote more time to sports, literary discourses and spiritual pursuits." Struggle then will largely be in intellectual and spiritual realms; in the constant effort to reduce the gap between the finite and the infinite, between the present and the ideal future. Sarkar sees the problem of food solved primarily through the cooperative economic structure. Each region will utilize its own raw materials and develop industries appropriate to the local environment. By encouraging self-sufficiency and self-reliance, some of the advantages of global trade will be lost in the short run--the North in particular will face a reduction in its standard of living--however as regions develop and as economic gains are redistributed, then trade between different regions will flourish. Trade then will be between equals, not centers and peripheries, not the powerful and the emaciated. (09/19/02) | |
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John Brand writes: Along with the capability for long-range planning, the prefrontal cortex endowed our species with the ability to empathize. Let me give you a possibly humorous scenario for the development of the ability to sense the feeling of others. Cartoons depict an early Cro-Magnon dragging the object of his affections into his cave. The image shows a brute male, club in hand, dragging his lady fair by her hair. Once they were in the cave, one does not need much imagination to develop the next step of this scenario. Dragging a female into a cave seems to be a hard and laborious task. There must be a better way. There was. Empathy was the key. One day our protagonist saw his lady fair stopping to smell a flower. His developing prefrontal cortex gave him the ability to realize that she enjoyed smelling the carnations. He identified with her. In the constant battle to mate with the most desirable female, a new little gene sneaked into the male's DNA. It had the capacity to sense the feelings of another person. It gave him an advantage in the quest to have children by her. After all, what better genes could there be to ensure perpetuation of the species than those of the precursors of Troy Aikman, physical strength and intelligence, and those of Martha Stewart, the consummate homemaker? "Ah," he thought, "there is an easier way to get her into my cave than to club her and drag her by her hair." He picked a bunch of Lilies of the Valley and presented them to her. The rest is history. (09/19/02) | |
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Tara Sue Grubb writes: Listening to all this talk about war and destruction reminded me of those days when George W.'s daddy was in office. It was a hard time for my family. I know the war was only a month. But it only takes a moment for a bullet, a breath for chemicals, a second for bombs, and there were plenty of all of these packed into thirty days. I watched the same news footage every night for weeks. I took a radio to school and listened to accounts of the progressing battle. I remember the sadness when I heard my brother and father's division had advanced into Kuwait. I was standing outside the classroom door. The bell had rung and a student asked, "What's wrong with you?" When I told her she said, "Big deal." Evidently her parents had told her that the war was just a sham, a media blitz. Who knows what ignorance filled her head. Having your father and brother dodging bullets and bombs in the sand is a big #%* deal! It may have been the first time that has occurred since the civil war--father and son side by side. ... I posted a few letters from PFC Clark and Gunny Clark. I had some good ones, and I can't find my favorite. I moved around a lot in my young life. I didn't post them all. Reading them now is like reading someone else's life. I was almost fifteen when they left. I was forty when they returned. ... Life doesn't stop for war. That's just it. I look forward to a time when patriotism is nothing but an ancient idea. It would have no place in a peaceful world. (09/19/02) | |
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Jerry Pournelle writes: Bush has made that clear. I am of two minds on this. First, I have no regard for Saddam Hussein, and we have some unsettled scores with him regarding his treatment of American women captives in the Gulf War. That alone is casus belli, and has been for more than a decade. You may recall I wasn't in favor of the Gulf War absent a Declaration of War by Congress, but once we were in it, we should have made it clear that mistreatment of American captives will result in death by hanging of everyone involved. We are about to go in again. Given that we will, what should we do? The options are interesting. (09/18/02) | |
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Mark Twain wrote: It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and sputtering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spreads of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country and invoked the God of Battles, beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpouring of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way. Sunday morning came-next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled ... the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation -- "God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest, Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!" (09/18/02) | |
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New York Times -- Across Beverly Hills and the other lush corridors of Los Angeles, rats — yellow-bellied, pink-tailed, flea-bitten rats — are wriggling through the woodwork and rooftops. They have come down from the trees and in from the fields, forced into neighborhoods by a strangling drought that has gripped the region. They are eating from dog bowls and drinking from swimming pools and acting in surly ways not normal to the genus. How did rodents end up in the lap of luxury? After four consecutive mild winters, their population has multiplied, though no study has been undertaken to determine exactly how many rats there are in Los Angeles County. The rule of thumb is one rat for every human, Mr. Honda said. Add in the severe drought and you have rats commuting to the neighborhoods with low-hanging fruit, exotic gardens and patios, with their outdoor parties and exquisite crumbs. Take the humiliating case of the well-to-do doctor who recently built himself a dream house off Sunset Boulevard. The doctor was giving a party a few weeks ago when three rats helped themselves to the crumbs of his outdoor buffet table. One scurried into the postmodern palace through an open door. If that were not enough, the doctor found five rats swimming in his marble pool on a recent Saturday afternoon. (09/18/02) | |
7:28:25 AM 
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© TrustMark
2002
Timothy Wilken.
Last update:
10/1/2002; 6:08:26 AM.
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