Quips & Quotes

Over the past 10 years, three times I have read Lord of the Rings and written lessons we can learn, chapter by chapter.  By now I have a good grasp of the lessons that repeat in the story and how one could apply those lessons to life.  Now I want to take a moment to highlight particular quotes that a community might often reference, if they took LotR as a religious/ethical guide.  I'll add some thoughts below each one.

"You are beset with dangers, Gimli son of Gloin, for you are dangerous yourself." - Gandalf

• The crossout is there to show the original, but in practice this would be replaced by the person you are speaking to.  This would be used as encouragement when somebody feels overwhelmed.  I would also add that one is threatened only when one is threatening - we ignore ants but not wasps.  If someone is taking you seriously, it is only proof you are someone worth taking seriously.

"Even Gollum may have something yet to do." - Frodo

• A reminder that all things have their place - a spin on "God works in mysterious ways."

‘I shan’t call it the end, till we’ve cleared up the mess, And that’ll take a lot of time and work." - Sam

• A reminder that defeating evil isn't all there is too it - we need to re-establish good.  This quote prepares us for the dull toil of the good life.

"If we all got angry together..." - Robin, one of the Shirriffs

• Again, the crossout is there to show the original, but in practice this would be replaced by some other emotion or action, though anger would be appropriate in a lot of places.  This quote happens during the Scouring of the Shire, and would be used when one feels some change that people are slowly accepting but that nobody likes.  It reminds the power of collective action.  It would also reinforce the importance of community.

"You won’t rescue Lotho, or the Shire, just by being shocked and sad." - Merry

• The reverse of the previous two quotes.  Feelings may drive us to action, but they are not enough.  Also see how this quote is about you, rather than we.  Collective action is the source of power.

"It would not stop with that!" - Galadriel

• I saved the best for last.  I've written pages on this quote and I believe I could write a whole book on it.  Galadriel says this after she is offered the Ring, and Sam tells her she would use its power to punish the bad people.  It's a reminder that power, once unleashed, is not easily bottled back up.  Whenever a sweeping proposal is made, this quote would be referred to in order to dampen the enthusiasm.  Power, whether revenge or justice or retribution or mercy or coercion or love must be kept on a tight leash to be used responsibly.

Well it's not like writing the Red Book!

• A little quip when something seems hard.  Perhaps something to break the ice at a tense moment in a meeting.

There are many more, maybe I'll add more and periodically repost this, but these are the ones that stuck out to me.

Well, until next time!

On Friends

We have reached the end, of our text.  The final chapter is "The Grey Havens" and I am again embarrassed to be reminded the Grey Havens are not across the Sea - it's just the port in Middle Earth that one takes there.  Ah well.

We follow Frodo as he goes to Grey Havens.  In usual Frodo fashion he tries to slip away.  He tells Sam to join him on a journey not mentioning Sam will have to return without him.  When they arrive, however, they are met by Merry and Pippin, who tell them Gandalf gave away Frodo's secret.

‘Yes,’ said Gandalf; ‘for it will be better to ride back three together than one alone."

When Frodo and Gandalf (as well as Bilbo and many Elves) have sailed away:

At last the three companions turned away, and never again looking back they rode slowly
homewards; and they spoke no word to one another until they came back to the
Shire, but each had great comfort in his friends on the long grey road.

Everything in life is better with friends.  When I was growing up a friend whom I emailed a lot with had this as his signature: "Shared with friends joy is doubled and sorrows are halved."  

Friends are a critical support system for making the harder choice.  Any sorrow resulting from your choice can be shared with others and not carried alone and any joy of course will be also multiplied.  But also, have you ever met a good person with no friends?  You may have - they exist.  But the amount of good they can do is limited.  Sometimes we can make the world better by acting.  But sometimes we make the world better through our words - persuading people of one thing or another to change their actions.  You are less likely to listen to someone who isn't your friend, and even less so if they have no friends.  

But friends also provide support by rejuvenating us.  Generally I think the text teaches that ethics is "doing the harder thing."  By definition the harder thing takes more energy.  But the harder choice isn't always the ethical one.  That's why it's important to discuss with friends - so when we are faced with a hard choice we can determine if it is the kind of hard choice worth making.  Friends can help us determine the right thing to do and give us the motivation to make that harder choice.  And if we err our friends can point this out to us and support us in righting our past wrongs.

It is noteworthy on their way home the hobbits don't speak to each other but are comforted nonetheless; Their sorrows are reduced.  We may think we need to do things with our friends, but this may miss the point.  It's great to do that, and certainly doing things is better if you're with friends, but there's also something about just seeing and being with a friend.

We are so used to content being thrown in our face we think we need to compete with it - we hope our friend has a good enough time with us they'll want to come back.  But this presents a "Like and Subscribe" aspect to friendship.  Friends are not check-boxes to mark off, nor are they teachers giving us grades, nor clicks or views to accrue.  They are other people we co-exist on this planet with.  We're social creatures and we should make time for them for its own sake.  We don't need to do something else so we can invite them.

So maybe it is the case friends are like check-boxes to mark off.  You then should expect that mark to fade and need to be renewed.  That analogy doesn't quite click for me, but I can't think of a great one, so let's get weird with it:  Spending time with your friend is like drying off your hands with a towel.  The towel will eventually airdry.  When it's reached that point, reach out to them again.

We often want any time together to be an event.  But that takes time and planning and energy - which is a harder thing.  But that's not necessary to see friends.  Just invite them over, or text them, or video call them, or hang out with them on Fortnight or some other virtual space.  Be with them however works.

We assume others are busy and happy and if they aren't reaching out then that's on purpose, rather than an error of omission.  "If my friends wanted to see me they'd ask to see me more often."  But perhaps they are thinking this of you?  And so this mutual deference leads to a drifting a part.  An overbearing friend is unpleasant, but it's easier to negotiate because you're already talking.   Silence, I have found, is the real killer.  It's one thing I appreciate about Facebook - liking someone's post keeps us in touch in a simple, but tangible, way.

Find time for your friends.  Being in the presence of others, even just sharing silence on the phone, connects us to them and the world at large.  And while I do think it's important to make ethical choices for its own sake - I worry significantly about the personal and societal moral rot of reduced standards - ultimately the only reason to do the right thing is for the sake of the world and its most important inhabitants:  Other people.

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

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On the necessity of losing innocence

This week we read "The Scouring of the Shire," a chapter that describes the ultimate reversal of Middle Earth.  Sauron is destroyed.  Middle Earth is at peace, united by the King.  Everything is good everywhere - except in the Shire.  The Shire is on the edge of ruin.

Throughout this cycle we have talked repeatedly about power.  It is bad to want it, bad to have it, and bad to use it, because it is inherently corrupting.  The Ring's power isn't corrupting - the Ring is corrupting because it motivates one to seek power.  The only right application of power is specific and finite.  Raise an army to confront an evil in the world, destroy it, and then dissolve the army.  Be Cincinnatus.  No mission creep is allowed.

But while power is inherently bad, the text does not forbid it.

As I've said before (though I can't seem to find where) in Middle Earth evil self-destructs and good becomes corrupted.  Everything fades.  It would not be surprising to discover, generations later, Aragorn's line fails its promise.  But that doesn't undo the good he did.  What is better?  To take power and risk corruption or to live forever under a boot, hoping for its self-destruction, and maintaining your innocence throughout?

The hobbits return to the Shire and learn it has been taken over by ruffians - Big Folk from outside.  Rules have been installed to control the hobbits.  The harvests are stolen (euphemistically called "gathered").  Some Hobbits are promoted to be Shirrif's, to legitimize the operation and do the work the men don't want to do.  The Shire's gates are locked and guarded throughout the night.  This is not the Shire our hobbits left.

The Hobbits still in the Shire do not stir against their new lords, though as we'll see they very clearly detest them.  They don't want to risk losing, obviously.  But I think it is because they are so used to being innocent and ignorantly cared for.  The Creative Wizard's countryside ideal is too good, too removed from the responsibilities of power, and thus risks its own destruction.

The returning Hobbits have a different relationship with power.  They have seen it used for ill, and they have seen it used for good and then (better yet!) put aside when the task is done.  They know what can be done.  Moreover, I think they cannot live without it being done.  It would be impossible for these four to live under the oppression the other hobbits have accepted.  They know what can be and so they set about fighting back.  These four quotes, which happen at a distance from each other but I'll still presented chronologically, neatly demonstrate the trajectory of events following the return of Frodo and company:

[Merry] sprang from his pony, and seeing the notice [of rules] in the light of the lanterns, he tore it down
and threw it over the gate. The hobbits backed away and made no move to open it.
Come on, Pippin!’ said Merry. ‘Two is enough.’ Merry and Pippin climbed the gate, and the hobbits fled.

‘If I hear not allowed much oftener,’ said Sam, ‘I’m going to get angry.’
‘Can’t say as I’d be sorry to see it,’ said Robin [a shirriff] lowering his voice.
If we all got angry together something might be done.

Said Merry "Now!  Wake all our people! They hate all this, you can see: all of them
except perhaps one or two rascals, and a few fools that want to be important,
but don’t at all understand what is really going on."

‘Seems almost too easy after all, don’t it?’ said Cotton [after a victorious confrontation against some men].

After a few more victories, the hobbits discover Saruman is behind it all.  He confronts them in the Shire and laughs at the destruction he has caused, calling it vengeance for the destruction they wrought on his home.  The hobbits want to kill him, but Frodo demands they let him go in peace so he might one day realize his error and repent.  They reluctantly agree.

Grima is with Saruman, and Frodo offers him a place to stay if he'll abandon Saruman.  He appears about to take it but then Saruman kicks him.  Finally pushed too far he lunges at Saruman and slits his throat.  In response some hobbits fire arrows at Grima, killing him.  The Shire is free again.

Saruman's evil caused his own destruction.  But the hobbits' innocence is corrupted by the needless killing of Grima.  But ultimately, I think this is a small price to pay.

I heard a quote this week that really fits into this chapter.  'Power means you have forfeited your innocence'.  It's from a great talk by Yossi Klein Halevi, an Israeli, about the tradeoffs of being a Jew in 1945 and of being a Jew in 1948.  I recommend you listen to the whole thing, but the essence is: Being an innocent victim is easy, taking action is hard and fraught with risks.

Frodo's offer of amnesty seems magnanimous, but I think it is out of place.  Indeed, Treebeard already released him from Orthanc believing he was "safe from doing any more harm.  Saruman showed no sign of guilt then or now.  Frodo is only giving Saruman an opportunity to recover his strength and return.  He is hoping for a similar eucatastrophe - but that is not an ethical approach to life.

I've long wondered why Frodo has to leave the Shire.  He doesn't seem excited go to the Grey Havens - it's not presented as a reward for a job well done.  But now I think I have an answer:  He's been so close to power that he now wants nothing to do with it.  He wants the Shire to remain as it was, powerless and innocent, but it will not.  It must take responsibility for its own existence - even if that means it will sometimes act wrongly.

Being innocent and suffering under evil is easy.  One can get used to anything, including suffering.  Suffering can give us meaning!  But willingly suffering when you could overthrow your oppressors is just abdicating your power.  Suffering doesn't make you better.  Power should be used responsibly.  Powerlessness has no merit.

Frodo - and the Elves he is leaving with - are too focused on purity.  The Elves want Middle Earth to be purely good and Frodo wants it to be purely just.  These are great goals to strive for, but the purity is going to cause problems.  For one thing, purity contradicts any compromise.  In a world full of different nations of men (as well as dwarves, hobbits, and the other races) disagreements will come up.  Accomodation, not purity, must guide the coming years.  And that's going to require tolerance of mistakes.

Innocence is a crutch, and a necessary one for a time.  We are all born innocent.  But eventually, we must gather the power available to us and use it to the best of our ability.  When we encounter others with power we will cooperate or conflict with them.  But, if we are wise, this dialectical approach will push us all to greater moral heights than we could have reached on our own.  Sometimes we will be right, and sometimes we will be wrong.  Mistakes are not a failing, but a necessary step towards improvement.  To demand purity is to refuse to participate in the world as it is.

It reminds me that at the beginning of our text we were shown how Bilbo is not the right hero for this Quest.  He was too immature.  Well, Frodo is too innocent for the coming age of Middle Earth.  Even his one transgression, to put on the Ring, was met with such ferocity from Gollum we are compelled to feel he was overwhelmed by evil, rather than a willing agent.  Frodo was right for the Quest, which took 183 days.  But regular life requires a different approach.  To achieve right in the world we must sometimes be willing to admit we, personally, are falling short, and need to change.  Evil self-destructs and good becomes corrupted.  But what if instead, when the good falls short, we are able to admit the flaw and begin anew.  We are not perfect and will not be perfect.  But we can become better.

"To achieve morality we must, at least sometimes, diminish ourselves?"  Perhaps that's what Frodo is doing - leaving so Middle Earth can make the mistakes he knows he will find intolerable.

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

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On protection

This week we read "Many Partings" and "Homeward Bound," our final double chapter.  The ending of our text reverses the outward trip.  Many Partings mirrors the title "Many Meetings", which tells of the Hobbits arriving in Rivendell, where the Fellowship is formed.  In this chapter, the Fellowship is officially dissolved, and the Hobbits head to Rivendell to spend time with Bilbo, before eventually leaving him, too.  In Homeward Bound they return to Bree village and have a talk with Butterbur, the innkeeper, at whose tavern they met Strider and accidentally revealed the Ring.  He tells them things have changed for the worse since they left.  There have been fights and fires, and a few people have died.  Robbers and wolves assail the village.

You see, we’re not used to such troubles; and the Rangers have all gone away,
folk tell me. I don’t think we’ve rightly understood till now what they did for us.

We know what happened to the Rangers, they answered Aragorn's call to come to Minas Tirith to assist against Mordor.  A valiant purpose, but they left those they'd secretly protected suddenly vulnerable.

On the one hand, Bree (and the Shire) has developed what I think the Creative Wizard considers the ideal culture: Farming, drinking, laughing, celebrating.  They ignore the outside problems of the world, and those outside problems ignore them.

That's what we're made to think at the start of the book, anyway.  But now we see those outside problems were always trying to get in and it was the vigilance of the Rangers who kept them out - Rangers whom the people have never felt warmly toward!  This is how Barliman introduces Aragorn to Frodo in the beginning of the text: "He is one of the wandering folk – Rangers we call them. He seldom talks: not but what he can tell a rare tale when he has the mind. He disappears for a month, or a year, and then he pops up again. He was in and out pretty often last spring; but I haven’t seen him about lately. What his right name is I’ve never heard: but he’s known round here as Strider."

He was popping in and out keeping the peace!

We tend to think of a peaceful world as a world without conflict.  If there is conflict or injustice anywhere we are not in a peaceful world.  But that deprives us from appreciating goodness when we do have it.  Perfection is not the only thing worth celebrating.  But imperfection necessitiates maintance, and we should appreciate those who maintain our world wh.

If the Rangers are guilty of anything it was keeping their vigilance a secret.  They could have spent some of that time sharing their efforts with the locals and offering to train those who wished to join.  Instead they are so secretive no one even knows that they leave, except that their lives get worse once they're gone.

We're all guilty of secretly protecting people, in one way or another.  But that can make them dependent on us.  If we really want to protect whoever or whatever it is, we should empower it to be involved in its own safety.  Perhaps the Rangers believed destroying Mordor outweighed protecting Bree, since they were taking the fight to the source.  In that case this chapter reminds us that although The Ring has been destroyed, there is still violence and greed and other bads in the world.  They still should have included the locals in their watches.

We've said, over and over again, that all power is bad.  This includes powers we would use to protect others.  Protecting someone is a form of exercising power over them - you're preventing them from harm.  This is OK for children; All kindergartens should be protected, but all kindergarteners, eventually, grow up.  They need to learn how to protect themselves, and to take the risks of life upon themselves.

It is a false safety to be so protective of someone they become dependent on you.  They are actually more vulnerable.  If you die or leave to deal "with the source," they are ill-equipped to protect themselves.  True protection comes with empowerment.  In my line of work it's called faded supports - supporting someone less and less so they can practice more and more independence until finally you aren't needed at all.

It is natural to want to protect those we love from the dangers of the world.  But, if we love them, we also will want them to grow into autonomous and independent selves, which means facing those risks on their own.  So while we protect them we must also empower them.  This is the best protection we can provide - protection they can take with them when we are gone.

But that requires us to, first, tell them of the dangers.  We may not want to.  If we can protect them, why even burden them with the knowledge of their existence?  Well, at some point they will find out - don't you want to be involved in that?  We hoard power over them when we avoid these hard conversations.  And at some point we won't be there, and their dependence on us will become a great liability.  We should prepare them for that inevitability.

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

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On boredom

I hate being bored.  More than that, I am afraid of boredom, and am excessive when it comes to avoiding it.  Whenever I go on a trip I bring no less than 2 books and 3 board games - and usually also my Switch or 3DS.  And of course I always have my phone.  And not just trips out of town, but trips to Revere Beach in the afternoon.  Maiar forbid I just enjoy the ocean!

This project, too, is an effort to ward off boredom.  I don't like the idea of coming home from work and having nothing to do.  I don't just like goals, it's that even temporary goallessness makes me feel unmoored.

This week we read "The Steward and the King," which first follows the beginning of Eowyn and Faramir's love story, and then finishes with the culmination of the love story between Aragorn and Arwen.  When Eowyn and Faramir are introduced, it is because she has requested to see him so she can ask if she can leave the House of Healing.

‘What do you wish?’ he said again. ‘If it lies in my power, I will do it.’ ‘I would have you
command this Warden, and bid him let me go,’ she said; but though her words were still
proud, her heart faltered, and for the first time she doubted herself. She guessed that
this tall man, both stern and gentle, might think her merely wayward, like a child that
has not the firmness of mind to go on with a dull task to the end.
‘I myself am in the Warden’s keeping,’ answered Faramir. ‘Nor have I yet taken up my authority
in the City. But had I done so, I should still listen to his counsel, and should
not cross his will in matters of his craft, unless in some great need.’

Ethics is doing the harder thing - and there's little in this world I find harder than being bored.  I do not have the firmness of mind to go on with a dull task.  I often interleave at least two tasks at once, so when one becomes dull I can switch.  At work a lot of my tasks are administrative, like data entry.  It gets dull.  So I'll do tasks two at once - making the weekly schedule and writing daily progress notes - and switch back and forth as necessary to keep my attention sharp (or, if you like, undulled).

Another way to keep your attention sharp is to interrupt the dullness.  My practice of turning away from dullness is close to that, but many inject excitement into dull activities.  But most of what is dull is inherently so.  If you change that you change what you are doing.  As the above references, protest movements which allow demonstrations that are exciting and eye-catching will be less effective.  Specific goals, closed-door meetings, and difficult compromises are less interesting and require a firmness of mind.  A belief you will get where you want to go, that whatever you're getting now is a good step, and an expectation people at least some people will be unhappy with you, but you're acting for the cause, not for approval.

Every march I've attended has a moment when things start to drag - you can only chant so much before it gets repetetive.  It is these moments when things break down - as if the point of the protest is to engage those protesting, and not agitate those in power.  

As with my work - I'm doing the task to get the data in.  There's not a good way to 'spice it up' without degrading the quality.  Microsoft Excel doesn't appreciate flair.

Another way to combat dullness is by becoming very interested in the activity.  We can't always control what interests us, but we all know there's some topic we can excitedly talk about in great detail even as the life drain's from our audience's eyes.  The difference between something being fascinating or complicated is your level of interest.  If something is dull, you're probably not interested in it.

Eowyn does not lack firmness of mind entirely.  She becomes bored of healing because she doesn't want the healing.  But she's shown firmness recently:  She rode in secret from Rohan to Gondor - keeping Merry hidden, too!  Hiding can be exciting when you're being hunted, but nobody even thinks she's there.  She doesn't even tell Merry, who'd have no reason to tell anyone!

Eowyn wants to ride out and fight - and die!  She has a deathwish - which is necessarily unethical: Dying is easy!  She could use this time to develop some other skill, or speak to others in the House, or even just rest.  She has no interest in living a life - this is why she finds healing dull.  It's pushing her backward from her goal.  She wants to fight, she wants glory - and specifically a glorious death.

But ultimately learning to embrace boredom - a hard thing indeed! - can make for a very ethical life.  Boredom implies you'd like to do something else. You probably can; We always have lots of choices in life.  But just because you can do something doesn't mean you'd do it well, or that it's the right (or even a useful) choice.  If you're injured you go to the hospital and listen to the doctors and nurses.  If you're on a plane you let the pilot fly it.  If you're hungry at a restaurant you don't barge into the kitchen.

It is now Monday evening and I absolutely must finish this post.  This is an unfinished thought, and I may return and amend it.  But I think becoming tolerant of boredom is important to living an ethical life.  Not because boredom isn't annoying, but because disrupting our boredom is not the highest good.  It may be the best thing for us to sit by and let others take action - or react to what we are doing.  We don't need to be in charge all the time, or pound people over the head with a message.  Let them sleep on it.  When we act, we necessarily are using our power.  Power is a dangerous tool.  But "...we cannot eliminate power. The best we can do is create a balance of it..." Sometimes that means empowering others, sometimes that means disempowering ourselves - or at least not using all that we have.  Sometimes the harder thing is boring.  That does not excuse us from doing it.

 This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

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On forever

This week begins the winding down of our text.  The Ring has been destroyed, and now we only must see through our characters and where they all end up.  Frodo and Sam, rescued by Gandalf and the Eagles, are now in Gondor, and - having slept for some days - are told they will be honored for their success.

Frodo and Sam were led apart and brought to a tent, and there their old raiment was taken off, but folded
and set aside with honour; and clean linen was given to them. Then Gandalf came and in his arms, to the wonder
of Frodo, he bore the sword and the elven-cloak and the mithril-coat that had been taken from him in Mordor.
For Sam he brought a coat of gilded mail, and his elven-cloak all healed of the soils and hurts that it
had suffered; and then he laid before them two swords.
‘I do not wish for any sword,’ said Frodo.
‘Tonight at least you should wear one,’ said Gandalf.
Then Frodo took the small sword that had belonged to Sam, and had been laid at his side in Cirith Ungol.
‘Sting I gave to you Sam,’ he said.
‘No, master! Mr. Bilbo gave it to you, and it goes with his silver coat; he would not wish anyone else to wear it now.’
Frodo gave way.

We understand why Frodo doesn't want a sword.  He's been through a lot, he's missing a finger on his sword-hand, and at no point in the Quest was he a particularly eager or skilled fighter.  He also gave Sting to Sam and may feel some dishonor at taking it back, even just for a performance.

We'd expect Gandalf to be more sympathetic.  We've already learned Gandalf thought the Quest was a fool's hope.  Having gone through with it, succeeded, and survived(!), why is Gandalf pressuring him to wear a sword in a ceremony?  If anyone can be exempt of expectations, it should be Frodo!

But Frodo, the hero, still has a role to play.  Middle Earth will not endure any more because of Frodo's choices.  He has done the Quest and now must accept the gratitude of Gondor.  That means appearing as they expect him - ready to do battle.  Perhaps one day they will understand Frodo's Quest is not comparable to the defense of Gondor, but the people had just survived two terrible battles, and decades of aggression (not to mention the battles in their histories against Sauron).  It may be difficult for them to accept a hero who was also not a warrior.  Gandalf knows this.  If they see Frodo as he is, they may be resentful the solution was so simple - or resentful their savior didn't take it as seriously.  Resentment is a powerful poison.  They require the hero they imagine.  Frodo sticking to his self-image will only undermine the victory he worked so hard to gain.

Sam is much more surprising in his stance.  Sam would do anything for Frodo - what does he care that he not only has a sword, but Sting in particular?  Sam, again, realizes the importance of meeting the expectations of others, but Sam's focus is on who Frodo cares about, which is not the people of Gondor, but of Bilbo.

Bilbo will hear of this celebration - he will certainly ask Frodo to describe it to him even if he's heard it before.  He'll feel very good knowing he contributed to his nephew's prestige, and Frodo will enjoy seeing his uncle's pride.  Sam knows this, and so he pushes Frodo because he knows Frodo will, eventually, wish he had done it, if only for the sake of a good tale.

Often we want what is easy for ourselves, but what is best for others.  We're all familiar with seeing a problem clearly when someone else is facing it but somehow be paralyzed by indecision when that problem is our own.  Sam knows what Frodo will want to have done, and that Frodo will have to endure the consequences of his actions for longer than the actual actions.  Sam also knows Frodo will oblige if he thinks his uncle will gain satisfaction from it.  Frodo will only do the harder thing if he believes it is for the benefit of another.  Indeed that's been Frodo's MO all along.

If Frodo had gotten his way he would have taken part in a celebration which would belittle him, and thus the Quest he endured so much to achieve.  He would have had to face Bilbo's pity that he did not enjoy the revelry, rather than bask in his joy at his own success.  Forever.

Forever is a long time.  The present pleasure or leisure will be fleeting, but we can carry the sense of accomplishment of a hard task for a long time.  We can carry the shame of shirking our duties for a long time, too.

The lesson, then, is not just to push ourselves toward accomplishment, but to understand we will all fail to do so if we are alone.  We must surround ourselves with people who want what's best for us, not best for their comfort (which would lead them to avoid arguments and to indulge us).  If someone is pushing you it is because they value not just the present-you but future-you who will have to deal with the consequences of your actions.  They want future-you to look at present-you and be proud.

I have occasionally heard people say an accomplishment wasn't worth the effort - I have rarely heard them then say they wish they'd never done it.  I've never heard someone say they were glad they gave into their impulses.  But give in we will, unless we have someone else with us who will remind us of our values and that our life's worth is not measured in pleasure or leisure, but in our accomplishments and what we did for other people.  The easy choice can give us a moment of pleasure followed by a lifetime of regret.

Update:  In the next chapter we hear someone from Gondor say, "One of [the hobbits] went with only his esquire into the Black Country and fought with the Dark Lord all by himself, and set fire to his Tower, if you can believe it." 

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On comparing

This past weekend I was busy hosting Boston Massacre, a Diplomacy Tournament, and though I hoped to use Sunday evening or Monday to post, I am frankly much too exhausted and now it is Tuesday.  So rather than share my thoughts about these comparisons I found, I'll just leave the comparisons, and leave the thinking to all of you :)

This week we read "Mount Doom," the final struggle of the Ring, and its lucky destruction.  During this chapter Sam rises to the occasion in two specific ways similar to Frodo earlier in our text.  First, Sam is reflecting on the people he left behind in the Shire, and how everything has gone wrong since Gandalf died in Moria.  Recalling this grief, we are told,

But even as hope died in Sam, or seemed to die, it was turned to a new strength. Sam’s plain
hobbit-face grew stern, almost grim, as the will hardened in him, and he felt through all his
limbs a thrill, as if he was turning into some creature of stone and steel that neither despair
nor weariness nor endless barren miles could subdue.

This parallels very nearly with Frodo's experience in the Barrows.

But though his fear was so great that it seemed to be part of the very darkness that was round him,
he found himself as he lay thinking about Bilbo Baggins and his stories, of their jogging along
together in the lanes of the Shire and talking about roads and adventures.There is a seed of courage
hidden (often deeply, it is true) in the heart of the fattest and most timid hobbit, waiting for some
final and desperate danger to make it grow. Frodo was neither very fat nor very timid; indeed, though he
did not know it, Bilbo (and Gandalf) had thought him the best hobbit in the Shire. He thought
he had come to the end of his adventure, and a terrible end, but the thought hardened him. He found
himself stiffening, as if for a final spring; he no longer felt limp like a helpless prey.

Shortly later Sam has picked Frodo up and walked with him on his back up the slope of the mountain.  There is no path, nor can he see any opening into the mountain.  After a while, he puts Frodo down, exhausted at the effort.

Frodo opened his eyes and drew a breath. It was easier to breathe up here above the reeks that
coiled and drifted down below. ‘Thank you, Sam,’ he said in a cracked whisper. ‘How far is
there to go?’ ‘I don’t know,’ said Sam, ‘because I don’t know where we’re going.’

And this is what Frodo says at the conclusion of the Council of Elrond,

‘I will take the Ring,’ he said, ‘though I do not know the way.’

Let me know your thoughts!

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On defiance

This week we read "The Land of Shadow."  While Return of the King begins with my favorite chapter (Minas Tirith) it also has my least favorite as well, this one.  There isn't a lot going on, and it drags.  Unless perhaps it is meant to evoke the feeling of wandering through the desolate land of Mordor.

As Sam and Frodo journey through Mordor on the last stage of their Quest they take a rest under a thicket.

Frodo sighed and was asleep... Sam struggled with his own weariness, and he took Frodo’s hand;
and there he sat silent till deep night fell. Then at last, to keep himself awake, he crawled
from the hiding-place and looked out... Far above the Ephel Dúath in the West the night-sky
was still dim and pale. There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high
up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart,
as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold,
the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was
 light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach. His song in the Tower had been defiance rather
than hope; for then he was thinking of himself. Now, for a moment, his own fate, and even his
master’s, ceased to trouble him. He crawled back into the brambles and laid himself by Frodo’s
side, and putting away all fear he cast himself into a deep untroubled sleep.

This moment is comforting.  Sam takes solace in the belief Sauron will never be able to conquer the stars.  Beauty is eternal and can never be fully kept at bay.  Even if all of Middle Earth would be conquered, sunsets will endure.  Caves will glitter and the Sea will wash the shores.  Perhaps there will be music in the industrial rhythm of Mordor's iron-making, or architecture to appreciate in Uruk towers.

It is comforting, but misleading.  There won't be any Free Peoples to appreciate these beauties!  Whatever good beauty is per se, it is necessarily increased by an audience.  Sam's hope doesn't empower him - it literally lulls him to sleep.

Sam's song of defiance in the tower was better than this hopeful comfort.  He should think of himself, for in thinking of himself he necessarily will consider others.  Hope can be quiet and personal.  Defiance must take an active form.  His defiance in Cirith Ungol, though born of dispair (literally a lack of hope), leads him to find and rescue Frodo.

While we should consider the consequences of our actions beyond our lifetimes, we should remain troubled by our own fate and by that of those around us.  Hoping the world will be OK does not make it so - only defiance, or some other motivation for action, can do that.  Hope is not a motivator - it is a comfort.

All of us can think of something in the world which bothers us.  We should not just hope things improve; We must be defiant.  Sleep does not get the job done!

Maybe this appears in this chapter precisely to demonstrate when we are most vulnerable to hope.  Mordor is dull, it is dark, it is dangerous.  It drags.  It is an overbearing experience.  Sam falls into 'untroubled sleep' while under a thicket of thorns.  This is not a wise decision, noble though it may appear!

Fortunately, Frodo and Sam take a more active role after this scene, and their defiance pushes them to act far beyond what they believe their limit is.  The countless times, throughout our whole text, characters act rather than hope gives us an indication of what the text thinks we usually ought to do.  Perhaps if we are stressed to the point of being overwhelmed, our senses dulled by repeated injustice,  clinging to hope and catching some rest is wise.  But it is a tactic to be used sparingly, not a strategy to guide our pursuit of an ethical life.

To right the wrongs of the world, you must defy them.

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On lacking

Hello from my new desk, now in our library instead!  Let's see if this new writing venue improves my punctuality.

This week we read "The Tower of Cirith Ungol."  Leaving behind the rest of our heroes, we return to the land of Mordor, and Sam's rescue of Frodo.  He is in enemy territory and at a disadvantage at every turn.  During one confrontation with an orc we are told:

But the orc was in its own haunts, nimble and well-fed.
Sam was a stranger, hungry and weary.

Sam's disadvantage is clear.  However, the contrast is not as structured as it could be.  In its own haunts/stranger are opposites, but nimble/hungry and well-fed/weary are incorrect.  Nimble and well-fed should be switched.  Although, even if the Creative Wizard had aligned those words, nimble and weary are not really opposites.  What does this construction teach us?

The orc is defending his home.  He is quick and has eaten recently.  These things are important in that order - he has home advantage, as well as an advantage of being quick.  Being quick isn't much help if you're in enemy territory, where you may not know where to go.

Well-fed seems an afterthought in comparison.  Danger is afoot!  Food can wait.  Especially if he's recently eaten.

But Sam is out of his element.  On top of that, he is hungry and tired (Particularly poor conditions for a hobbit).  All three of these things will weigh him down.  Danger is afoot and food can wait - but even if he wins the fight there is no guarantee of food (or rest).

The orc can consider his agility because he is well-fed.  He is not weary to the point it doesn't even bear stating.  Even if Sam could be nimble, he will not be now.  We've all been hungry.  Being hungry sucks.  It can make you cranky and impact anything else you do.  Whatever your potential is, hunger will inhibit it.

Being weary similarly can affect you, but for me anyway being hungry is worse.  Maybe it's all those years at summer camp and working campus security - I not only have experience working odd hours but I really liked those jobs!  Even if you can't get a full sleep at the moment you can at least get a quick 5-minute shut-eye.  That's achievable in most places of our lives.  But hunger requires something from outside - something we may not have on-hand.

Alternatively, perhaps because food is usually readily available to me (and eating is pleasurable) hunger is worse because I wonder how did I let myself get to this point?  Why haven't I eaten?  It's so easy to fix, whereas a quick shut-eye, in and of itself, isn't particularly pleasurable.

Biological needs, if met, can be forgotten.  But if you ever need to eat or sleep or go to the bathroom or sit down and you're not able to then it suddenly becomes urgent.  I think that's why hunger comes second but well-fed comes third.

It is a good reminder that not only do people experience needs differently, but the experience of needing can upend ourselves.  When our needs are met it can be easy to forget what it's like when they are not.  That means we have less compassion for those who are lacking - precisely those who need compassion more than others.  It is important, then, to remember that lacking something is more than the lack; it also saps a person's energy or mood.

Learning people's points of view is essentially to living ethically - even if you disapprove you need to understand them in order to hope to persuade them (and if you don't hope to persuade them then you must endure their alternative point of view (or seek to kill them)). But people's points of view are more than the intellect and experience behind them.  They are also their state of mind - hunger, exhaustion, pain, fright, etc.  If you live comfortably, your persuasion of someone who is uncomfortablele ought to take that into account.  Otherwise, your attempt will seem ridiculous and breed only contempt.

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Against political violence

This week we read "The Black Gate Opens."  Gandalf, Aragorn and nearly everyone else rides to the gates of Mordor to challenge Sauron.  They do this not to win but to divert his attention from Frodo, whom they merely must hope remains alive.  They know they will never defeat Sauron in a battle of arms; this battle is only a tactic to distract him.

Even if they win Sauron will eventually send another wave of minions, and another and another. It is fortunate the Ring is destroyed during the battle, interrupting it. Had Frodo and Sam been delayed a day, or even another hour, they would have prevailed at a much higher cost.

Last week former President Trump survived an assassination attempt.  It seems to have been a close thing - an unsteady hand, unexpected gust of wind, or his own sudden movement saved his life.  Nonetheless, one innocent person was killed and two more were injured.  The shooter was also killed.

Political violence is bad.  We should all oppose it.  Saying this is a false-flag operation, or a plot by his political opponents, or bemoaning that we were this close to being rid of this unique threat to our Republic only fuels the fire.  Political violence is bad and a society that rejects it is better off.  Not only morally, but in material safety.  A Democracy of the Survivors presents very perverse incentives.  Further, as we have seen, shooters and weapons aren't perfect.  If we have more assassination attempts we'll also have more innocent deaths.

President Trump is a unique threat to our Republic, and we'd be better off if he weren't running.  That doesn't justify killing him.  The means and the ends must each be justified.  Murder isn't justifiable.

What stuck with me reading this chapter was the image of this huge melee, all so Frodo can have an opportunity to destroy the Ring.  That's what matters.  The battle is just a tactic.

Killing a political opponent is also a tactic towards political outcomes, but it will never get us what we want.  Whether you hit or miss you have now legitimized your opponent to break the rules to reach whatever goal of theirs was enraging you.  And if you do kill them there's always going to be someone to take their place.  What then?  Do we kill our way through our political opponents until the rest surrender?  These people have principles just like we do - would we be so easily cowed?  Would we not organize and strike back?

Stated like this I think it's clear it is delusional thinking to believe assassinations will lead to the political outcome we want.  Assuming Trump had died I think we can all agree that wouldn't have been the end of it. MAGA would strike back. I'm reminded of this quote, from Fellowship of the Ring.

[Sam said to Galadriel] 'I wish you'd take his Ring.  You'd put things
to rights... You'd make some folk pay for their dirty work.'

'I would,' she said. 'That is how it would begin.
But it would not stop with that, alas!'

It is easy to begin political violence - maybe even righteously!  But reprisals would come for those who took their lives; or at least those who were blamed; or at least those who could be acted against.  And then counter-counter-reprisals, etc.  How would it stop?  Who would be the person to see someone on their side killed and say "That's enough, it stops now - no more reprisals."  Tolerance is a big ask!

It's worth recalling tolerance did not come from high-minded thinkers who then persuaded society to live and let live.  Tolerance, in the Western tradition, came out of centuries of religious wars in Europe which pitted Catholics against Protestants.  Each side thought God wanted the other side wiped out, but that was proving impossible to do.  Tolerance arose because these 'forever wars' of the day were making life unbearable for everyone.  No particular person said "That's enough, it stops now."  Society did.

A sustained presence of violence, of any kind, undermines society's ability to function.  And society would recognize, above the incentives of individuals and political tribes, that it has to stop.  And sometimes it stops with democracy (Post-bellum America) and sometimes it stops with fascism (NAZIs, Soviets, Taliban).  Once you enter the abyss of societal dysfunction it's hard to predict the outcome.

This answers another issue I've been wrestling with - the battle does not end because Frodo destroys the Ring.  It ends because (or perhaps merely after) Frodo betrays the Quest and is attacked by Gollum who takes the Ring but then falls into the Crack of Doom.  The world is saved, of all things, by Gollum's greed!  A Eucatastrophe: An event we cannot plan for and should not hope for.  Indeed, who could have predicted the religious wars of the 1600s would have resulted in greater religious tolerance?

It's easier to predict the outcome of an election you lose: More elections.  Election cycles necessarily are followed by future election cycles - and will at some point produce results your opponents will not like.  But you don't want them empowered to kill whoever you voted for.  Thus, you must lay aside that power.  Better yet everyone must agree that option is unavailable and, if ever used, swiftly punished.

Ethics means doing the harder thing.  For politics, that means accepting defeat as a possibility, making coalitions with those you don't totally agree with, and refusing to despair and catastrophize (which is what gives us permission to break the rules of civil society).  Committing, or even encouraging, political violence is to say "I will recognize the government's authority only when I like the outcome."  And if one person has that position, it motivates others to take it.  The only solution is for nobody to take that position, and for those that do to be ostracized and punished - before they act.

'I wish you'd take his Ring.  You'd put things to rights...
You'd make some folk pay for their dirty work.'
'I would,' [Galadriel] said. 'That is how it would begin.

But it would not stop with that, alas!'

Let's say Trump somehow cancels elections in 2028, or runs a third term and wins.  He'll be 82.  Maybe he lives to be 100, and remains lucid throughout.  So worst case scenario he's in charge until 2046.  That's bad, but I don't believe we'd completely end as a republic.  The NAZIs ruled Germany for 12 terrible years, and then Germany was split for almost 45 years, but Germany reunited and has returned to being a democratic country.  Italy was ruled by Mussolini for 21 years!  Democracies, once they fall to fascism, are not stuck down there.

Picture this:  America has the same president for more than 10 years in a row, leading until he dies in office.  He imprisons a hundred thousand Americans based on their race, denies immigrants wishing to enter the country and tries to pack the Supreme Court when they rule against him.

The administration you're picturing has already happened - FDR was elected for four terms and did all of those things.  Yet we survived as a republic.

I need more evidence that this time will be different, and cannot even comprehend the evidence I would need to support political violence against Trump.  Because it would not stop with that, alas!

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On preparation

This week we read "The Last Debate," during which Aragorn, Gandalf, and others discuss what to do, now that Sauron has been beaten back from Gondor's gates.  They all agree he will return with even greater strength, and that there is no victory for them possible by fighting.  Their only hope is Frodo - whom they hope is in Mordor.  They decide, then, to bring the fight to Sauron's gates and challenge him to battle, not so that they might win, but so he might become distracted from the real threat within his own lands.

When they agree to this, Gandalf adds this to the conversation:

‘Other evils there are that may come; for Sauron is himself but a
servant or emissary. Yet it is not our part to master all the tides of the
world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we
are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after
may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule.

I like this image of clean Earth contrasted against the weather.  We can only do so much to provide for future generations.  They will have to make their own choices and deal with problems we cannot forsee.  But there are things we can do to give them the best start we can.

Of course, there is an obvious problem with this analogy.  We are doing things to make the weather worse.  As I write this we're entering a third week of an ongoing, if inconsistent, heatwave.  It's been above 90 degrees for over half the days since this month began.  Even with the small breaks it's been remarkably hot.

It remains an analogy, but the question is what can we do with unforeseen consequences.  After all, people did not know what we know now back in the 60s, the 30s, the 1800s when industrialization took off.  Some of them knew in the 80s, but people also used to think we'd overpopulated the planet and that's not going to happen.  I find it hard to fault people for not deciding which of the predicted problems was going to be correct, although that some of those people were within oil companies reduces my leniency a little bit.

For future generations, we have an obligation to provide for them the best groundwork we can while also acknowledging - and reminding them - we cannot provide for everything.  There are unlikely to be impossible problems, but there will be ones they were not ready for.  Maybe we could have!  But how were we to know Mexico was going to sink into the sea and thus a wall between America and Mexico would have prevented, or at least mitigated, the great Southern Flooding of 2143?  For example, of course!

But maybe I've been focusing on the wrong part of the text.  At the start Gandalf says Sauron is just a servant of evil.  Destroying Sauron will not end evil.  Perhaps nothing will.  While is right to give our descendants clean Earth and to try to avoid unforeseen consequences, if that is possible, the best preparation we can provide is to remind them evil will endure, and spring anew.  They will always have to fight - hopefully not every day, but within their lifetimes they should expect some kind of fight for good.  They must expect it.

Recently I've been recalling a saying:  There are those who think the world is bad, and all the joy a result of our labor, or the labors of others; and there are those who think the world is good, and all the pain a result of our labor, or labor of others.  I don't think either is particularly better - one encourages striving, the other encourages simplicity.  But both give you some sense of purpose and an expectation of where to focus your efforts.

While we should do all that we can to materially prepare the next generation, we should emotionally prepare them as well.  Evil isn't an enemy to be conquered, but an enemy to struggle against forever.  However much we wish it weren't the case.

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On immunity

I've tried to avoid writing about current events, but this week we encounter a convergence of events too ripe to ignore!

On Monday the Supreme Court ruled, in Trump V United States (God, that's an incredible name for  a real court case!) that American Presidents are given a hefty amount of criminal immunity for some of their actions during office after they leave office.  Thursday was July 4th, Independence Day.  While American independence was largely about a desire for the representative government which English subjects in England had had for centuries, it is now remembered as an ideological battle against monarchy.  A monarch, of course, has a lot of immunity for their actions.  And because they rarely leave without dying, post-reign prosecution is impractical.  On top of all that, our text this week has a lot to say about the duty to act against a leader sho is doing the wrong thing, something which is difficult to do when that leader has immunity.

This week we read a double portion, "The Pyre of Denethor" and "The Houses of Healing."  We'll be looking at the first of those chapters.

Previously, Denethor has taken Faramir's body to an underground area called Rath Dinen, where previous kings and stewards had been buried.  Denethor, convinced Gondor is going to lose the war, has decided to hurry his and Faramir's entombment.  Most of his guards assist him, but Pippin has fled to get Gandalf for help.  Pippin has by this time been been released from Denethor's service - it's not clear what he would have done if he were still bound to him, and it would be too easy to say he would have done the same.

But on his way to find Gandalf he finds his friend, Beregond, another member of the Guard.  He tells him Denethor has lost his mind, and urges him to do what he can to delay what's about to happen.  Beregond is uncertain what to do - it would be disloyal for him to leave his post.

That's where we last left our characters.  This week Gandalf and Pippin return to find Beregond has in fact acted.  He killed one guard to get inside and now stands in front of the door where Denethor and Faramir are, trying to hold off two other guards who are trying to get in with the torches Denethor ordered them to retrieve.  As they arrive, Denethor opens the door from behind Beregond, bearing his sword.  Gandalf sets himself in the middle of everybody and orders Denethor to stop what he's doing.

 ‘Since when has the Lord of Gondor been answerable to thee?’
said Denethor. ‘Or may I not command my own servants?’

‘You may,’ said Gandalf. ‘But others may contest your will,
when it is turned to madness and evil.'

Gandalf then goes to the platform Faramir has been laid on (it is made of sticks, and he has been covered in oil) and picks him up and bears him away.  In response, Denethor snatches one of the torches brought by his guards, throws it on the platform, and lies down to burn.  He dies right then and there.

Gandalf turns to the loyal guards, who are horror-stricken at what's happened,

'You have been caught in a net of warring duties that you did not weave.
But think, you servants of the Lord, blind in your obedience, that but
for the treason of Beregond Faramir, Captain of the
White Tower, would now also be burned.'

Gandalf clearly uses the word treason ironically - it is not a stain on Beregond's reputation, but an honor.

The application to our current events is obvious - Denethor should have been stopped, and much earlier.  If he had survived, he should have been able to be tried for his actions.  Treason against a mad lord is sometimes justified.  Nobody is perfect, thus we must retain options to rebuke them.

But I do have complicated feelings about this ruling.  Given my interest in foreign policy and geopolitics, which are much more amoral than domestic issues, I do think Presidents should be immune from some prosecution.  My issue isn't so much "A President should be able to do what they want, without consequence," but that "if a President thinks they'll be punished, they now have a new cost to consider, and may act in their own interest instead of the nation's"  I think a lack of immunity does introduce a level of hesitation which may have severe consequences.

The main example I can think of is Obama's attack on bin Laden.  If that raid had gone poorly, with more civilian casualties, could he be prosecuted for their deaths?  If bin Laden had, in fact, not been there, could he be prosecuted for sending Americans into harm's way needlessly?  If those costs needed to be considered would he still have given the order?  It was 2011, he still had another term to win.  Failure, of course, could have been used against him in the 2012 election, and the success of that operation no doubt was a feather in his cap during that campaign.  But what if losing that election also could have led to him being tried in court, personally?  He might have acted differently.  He might have taken longer to weigh his options, and thus missed the opportunity.  If he missed the opportunity, could he have been tried for not acting?

I don't think a President should be personally liable for military action (or inaction).  I don't think it's a good idea, per se, and I think it would come with lots of other negative consequences.

And there are many more laws than we usually think about.  There are laws about how money gets spent.  Can a President be prosecuted for overspending, or understanding?  Or for reappropriating?  I'm sure there are also many more examples I cannot fathom, but which the Supreme Court know well.  While I obviously think our President should follow the law during their time in office, I don't think they should be punished for every example of law-breaking, because then it will be in our Presidents' interest to do as little as possible.  Moreover, the kinds of people who will want to become President will change, and I don't think a litigious, self-protective person will necessarily make a good President.  Immunity should be available, at least as long as some amount of good-faith exists.  But then how do we prove that?

But there's another issue with holding a President accountable for crimes they commit in office. The president doesn't do most of what they are responsible for.  Obama wasn't there when bin Laden was killed.  He didn't pull the trigger.  Similarly, Bush didn't lie to the UN about Iraq's weapons of mass destruction - Colin Powell did.  Trump, also, didn't try to steal the election - his followers did.  He didn't storm the capitol on January 6th.  He didn't organize fake electors.  How can we hold him responsible, legally, for what his followers did?  They all had agency, and he had no way to compel them to act if they didn't want to do those things.

To wit: Trump did call the Georgia governor and demand he "find 11,780 votes" and suggested not investigating would be a criminal offense.  When he refused Trump didn't do anything about it and nothing came of that threat.  It's grotesque, but I don't think it's actually illegal to tell somebody to commit a crime.  The threat is more within the realm of criminality, but Trump has a reputation of overblown rhetoric that I think he could reasonably get off if that was the only charge.

If the President, personally, shoots someone on 5th Avenue maybe they actually are immune to prosecution.  If they order someone else to do that, that's still illegal for that person.  Presidential immunity is not transferrable to their staff or followers.  The FBI still has to follow the law - the President is immune from prosecution, not the whole executive branch.  The American military also can't perform operations within the borders of America, though a declaration of martial law may change that.  The National Guard is a separate issue I don't know enough about.  I'd look it up, but this post is running along already.  Suffice to say I believe it would be illegal for any branch of the military to conduct any operations on American soil without some extraordinary legislation passing Congress, and then Presidential immunity is not longer the sole issue.

Most of what we are worried about Trump doing involves someone else doing it for Trump.  That person is not immune.  They could obviously be pardoned, though, if convicted federally, but of course there's the more immediate worry they'd have of someone attacking them in the moment.  If you shoot someone on 5th Avenue the promise of a Presidential pardon provides no protection NYPD's inevitable response.

The case for accountability is easier to make.  There should be limits on power, and enforcement of those limits.  But I do think the Supreme Court has a valid point that we don't want incoming Presidents to prosecute outgoing ones (and we certainly don't want them to campaign on that).  We also don't want Presidents to be overly concerned with their own legal jeopardy when making decisions.  Presidents who know going into the job that they must act in ways to protect themselves from even the most inane prosecution will not be the best kind of Presidents they can be - and those who choose to run will not be the best we can get.

We've had generations of Presidents who could be held accountable and we haven't devolved into dueling partisan trials.  I disagree with the Court we were on the cusp of that.  But I understand what they were trying to avoid.

The good news I'll say here is a President can still be impeached.  We should try to elect legislators that represent their state/district rather than to support/oppose the President according to their party affiliation.  But that's not going to happen just because those reading this blog decide to do so.  It must be a national, cultural change in how we understand the legislative branch, that their job is to not pass laws which the President can tout as achievements, or bring forward messaging bills when they're in the minority, but to represent the interests of their constituents.

I originally was going to write "Denethor benefited from his immunity," but he died on a pyre of his own making (Well, to drive the point home, his guards made it).  It is difficult to see that as a benefit.  Denethor would have benefited more from listening to the doubts of others, and to being open to their concerns over his own.  Denethor had the opportunity, but he didn't take it.  Then again, he lived his life above the rest of the people, and surely began to believe his position as Steward was deserved through merit, and not through bloodline.  He was the product of generational immunity - we shouldn't be surprised he couldn't simply shake it off.

Our future Presidents, as time goes on, will test the boundaries of this immunity more and more.  To be clear, I am not talking about Trump.  While he is a unique threat to our Republic, I think the real problems of this ruling will show themselves in 30-50 years, when we have a generation of Presidential hopefuls who grew up both wanting to be President and knowing Presidents have this kind of immunity.  When they cross a line - for surely there are lines - we must hold them to account.  However, that may set off the war of dueling partisan prosecutions this ruling sought to avoid.  I have no solution to that - to any of this.  But thank you for giving me an opportunity to talk out my thoughts.

Our text is clear - power is bad.  If so, unaccountable power must be worse.

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

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On our response

This week we read "The Ride of the Rohirrim" and "The Battle of Pellenor Fields".  Finally, the Rohirrim arrive at Gondor.  In the ensuing battle, of course, comes one of the climaxes of our text:  The end of the Witch King.  The battle is won, but not without losses - Theoden is killed, crushed by his horse, Snowmane, which had been felled by "a black dart".

Theoden's body is taken to be buried at Edoras.  The Witch King's body, of course, has vanished without a trace.  As for their steeds, the men of Rohan and Gondor decide to give them last rites:

So they laid them apart from their foes and the fell beast and
set spears about them. And afterwards when all was over men returned
and made a fire there and burned the carcase of the beast; but for
Snowmane they dug a grave and set up a stone upon which was carved
in the tongues of Gondor and the Mark:
Faithful servant yet master’s bane,
Lightfoot’s foal, swift Snowmane.
Green and long grew the grass on Snowmane’s Howe,
but ever black and bare was the ground where the beast was burned.

We've spoken about this previously, how the beast is so foul even its destruction cannot fully undo its damage.  It's a powerful metaphor about the need for swiftness.  The longer evil persists, the more irreparable harm it might do.

But reading the text this time - 10 years later - I was struck by a different question.  What ruined the ground, the beast or the burning?  If Snowmane had been burned, would the ground also be "ever black and bare"?

These are not the intended results.  Snowmane wasn't buried to enrich (enchant?) the ground, and the beast wasn't burned to desecrate (curse?) the ground.  Snowmane was buried out of respect.  Snowmane fought on the winning side - which we also know to be the right side.  Respecting the body is an opportunity to show to everyone else that, if they fall in battle, even their animals will be treated with respect.  It will inspire them.

Similarly the beast is burned out of disdain, and perhaps confusion.  Text describes them as:

And behold! it was a winged creature: if bird, then greater than all other birds,
and it was naked, and neither quill nor feather did it bear, and its vast
pinions were as webs of hide between horned fingers; and it stank.
A creature of an older world maybe it was, whose kind, lingering in forgotten mountains cold
beneath the Moon, outstayed their day, and in hideous eyrie bred this last untimely brood,
apt to evil. And the Dark Lord took it, and nursed it with fell meats, until
it grew beyond the measure of all other things that fly;
and he gave it to his servant to be his steed.

They're not sure what to do with it, and in the battle Eowyn beheaded it.  So they decide to burn it.  This is what we see the Riders of Rohan do with the Orcs they slew outside Fanghorn Forest.  It's their custom - a way to get rid of the bodies of the enemy.

But we know if we saw Orcs or any other servant of Sauron or Saruman burn the bodies of any Free Peoples we would be horrified.  They should be buried!  The text, too, would disapprove.  Whenever fire is used, it is usually a negative.  "Fire!" is what is called out when the Shire is under attack (we hear it in the story of the encroaching Old Forest, and we'll hear it again during the scouring).  The Rings, of course, were made by a great fire.  Saruman's explosives are ignited by fire.

Fire of course can have positive uses, like campfires, torches, the beacons of Gondor.  But it is generally a negative, which makes sense given the medieval setting of Middle Earth.  The dangers far outweigh the positives.  Even campfires can give away one's location.  And fire is very dangerous if it gets out of control.

The men who bury and burn make their choices intentionally.  Snowmane is to be honored, the beast is to be destroyed.  The ground is forever impacted by their choices.  But what if it was their choice, not the animal, which creates these diverging paths?

The Creative Wizard suggests the beast is "apt to evil," but this describes only a tendency.  It could be raised to be good.  We know Mordor takes horses from the Rohirrim for its own use, and while those horses are used for evil, they obviously aren't inherently so.  Burning the beast suggests something about the beast, itself, is irredeemable.

Of course, it is dead.  It's deeds are done and, if we were to count them, its evil would outweigh its good, even if we agree "bearing the Witch King" is a relatively minor form of evil, and one the beast may do without any awareness of the evil.  Sauron nursed the beast - how is the beast to know its master was evil?  It is possible for something to be "apt to evil" through ignorance.

Fire may be an analogy here for power.  Occasionally useful but usually ruinous.  We'd all be better off if we could minimize its use.

I think the men of Gondor and Rohan bear responsibility for the results of these last rites.  By using fire, they make the evil of the beast permanent.  Worse, they don't even mark the site.  Snowmane's grave is given a tombstone.  But they could at least make a sign like "The ground here, ever ruined by those the Dark Lord tamed, so we may never forget the cost of obeying evil."  Even if fire is the cause of the ruin, it would then be done with intention.

The lush grass and the dead earth are not signs of two beasts of different temperaments, but of responses to the end of the conflict.  If we try to purge the world of evil, and punish it even when it is already defeated, we will find many things wanting.  In a democratic society, if we determine some of our fellow citizens - or immigrants wishing to become citizens - are inherently evil or broken, or even if they simply have a dark aptitude, we'll soon become a democracy of the survivors.  And the winner gets to rule over the ashes.

This is especially important when deciding what to do when you win.  If an opponent is actively fighting against you and your values, fight back - but cleanly.  But if they surrender, or change their minds, or want to stop fighting and talk it over, we have an obligation to do the right thing, and not the thing that feels good.  "All men are created equal" does not mean, at their defeat, that equality evaporates.  We must punish cautiously and with purpose instead of passion.  Otherwise we risk stoking the flames of another round of the fight we only just won!

It would make for an ugly country for some patches of grass to be lush and yet for some to be barren.  Scars may tell us the past is real, but they are not the only way to record history.  And anyway, we must allow for the growth of a lush, green future, despite everything.

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

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On despair

This week we read "The Siege of Gondor," a chapter full of death and despair.  Faramir returns to the city but then is quickly sent back out by Denethor to disrupt the advance of the armies of Mordor, and though he valiantly attempts to do so, he ultimately is forced to retreat, and is even struck by a 'deadly dart,' which I think is supposed to recall Frodo's wound on Weathertop.  The effect is similar - Faramir collapses and only makes it back into the city protected by the others.  Frodo survived the wound with Elfish medicine, but the men of Gondor have no access to that.  Faramir's prognosis looks grim.

When the gate is surrounded and the siege is complete (does Gondor really have only one gate, to be besieged so easily?! Even Helm's Deep has secret passages which are alluded to) those inside begin to despair of their situation.  A guard, Ingold, says:

‘There is no news of the Rohirrim.  Rohan will not come now. Or if they come, it will not
avail us. The new host that we had tidings of has come first, from over the River by way of Andros
 it is said. They are strong: battalions of Orcs of the Eye, and countless companies of Men of a new
sort that we have not met before. Not tall, but broad and grim, bearded like dwarves, wielding great
axes. Out of some savage land in the wide East they come, we deem. They hold the northward road;
and many have passed on into Anorien. The Rohirrim cannot come.’

In a single paragraph Ingold's point has evolved three times.  First, it goes from no news of Rohan to certainly they will not come.  Then, they will not be able to help if they do.  Then, it is impossible for them to come.

He's not making a particularly long speech, where we might understand this kind of change - we've all experienced our minds changing as we describe a situation out loud.  But somehow his mind changes not once, but three times!  And always in the same direction: towards depair.

This is an example of catastrophizing.  Ingold pushes himself toward more and more desperate conclusions.  It is not enough for him to say he hasn't heard news of Rohan - he instead concludes it is impossible for them to come.  His mind pushes him towards that end.

We've all had this experience, or knows someone whose had it.  A funny look from a boss means they think they'll be fired.  A lack of sex in a relationship means a break-up is coming.  A couple of coughs are a suggestion of Covid.

It may seem as if preparing for the worst is just that - being prepared.  But over the course of a lifetime, as a regular response to regular things, it's a stressful way to live.  That stress sucks energy out of you which could be used for other things.  If you're not actually being fired, energy spent preparing to be could have gone to other things.

Later in our chapter the scope widens:  We're given an overview of two competing views within the city.  Both are grim, but the first at least tries to be optimistic.

‘Nay,’ they said, ‘not if the Nameless One himself should come, not even he could enter here while we yet live.’ But some answered: ‘While we yet live? How long? He has a weapon that has brought low many strong places since the world began. Hunger. The roads are cut. Rohan will not come.’

Here we see the second group has already moved past "no news" and is already saying Rohan will not come.  Next, they will say Rohan will not avail them.  Eventually, they'll say Rohan cannot come.

The optimistic group could try to do the same, but in truth what is there for them to be optimistic about?  "The city will not fall while we defend it, and we will defend it forever.  We'll find other food to eat and Rohan will open the roads soon enough"?  That's obviously nonsense and won't cheer anybody except a child.  There is worth in cheering children in hopeless situations, of course.  But adults?  We're supposed to be the problem-solvers, and even optimists should understand the reality of the challenge.

The situation is desperate, so we can't really blame people for turning to despair.  Further, the pessimistic group, if they fall in battle, can at least comfort themselves that they did not die a fool.  They knew this was coming.  I don't think that's something we should overlook.

This is called group polarization and is like catastrophizing but for a whole group.  But while personal catastophizing only adds stress to your life, here people can make connections with each other through their despair, giving further incentive to despair.  Given that despair is hopelessness, and hope is such an important part of an ethical life, we must resist it.  It would be different if such bad news stirred us to action - but it rarely does.

In addition to the despair in this chapter, I had also mentioned there is death:

And when Denethor descended again he went to Faramir
and sat beside him without speaking, but the face of the Lord
was grey, more deathlike than his son’s.

Faramir has been wounded by an evil weapon, but it is Denethor whose life appears to be failing.  In fact, the text pretty clearly tells us worry over Faramir's life is the product of rumor:

During all this black day Faramir lay upon his bed in the chamber of the
White Tower, wandering in a desperate fever; dying someone said,
and soon ‘dying’ all men were saying upon the walls and in the streets.

So here Denethor is succumbing to a rumor started by 'someone' (I think it's interesting this person isn't named, given the Creative Wizard's penchant for giving names and histories to various minor characters).  And it goes from his son is dying to Denethor then seeming as if he is the one dying.  Death does not usually spread in this way.

Despair is popular these days - being optimistic is seen as naive.  We have a rematch election most people don't want, a climate crisis, and several real (and imagined) genocides.  But our text teaches us that despair leads only to greater despair.  These people are not stirred to action - they are simply brought down by how much of a bummer things are.  Or they are moved to action which, if it does not cause immediate change, will lead them to conclude change is impossible.  An ethical cost of a society with a reduced sense of delayed gratification.

There is a way to avoid pessimism and despair while also not pretending our problems are easily solved.  For one thing, I think there's room between pessimism and optimism - one doesn't have to choose one or the other.  There also is good news in the world - it's just not popular to celebrate it.

The forces causing us to join in despair are strong.  Through social media it is a way to connect with people.  Surely I'm not the only person who has seen someone share bad news, been able to find a credible source debunking that bad news, but still decided not to share it.  Because I am a coward?  Surely that's part of it.  It's hard to go against the grain.  But I think there's something uniquely bad when that means "Let people despair - trying to cheer them up will just get them mad at you."

Life being bad is also reason for revolution, which provides a better sense of meaning than economic success, material comfort, and incremental success through policies passed through the democratic process.  Unfortunately, it also means we're looking for meaning in falsehoods.  

As for our texts, we know the deaths of those in Gondor will not be in vain (well, except Denethor).  As is a pattern we've come to expect, there is a eucatastrophe coming.  The forces of Mordor break the gate, and the Witch King and Gandalf have a confrontation around the splintered doors.  Suddenly, 

And... there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns.
In dark Mindolluin’s sides they dimly echoed.
Great horns of the North wildly blowing. Rohan had come at last.

Ingold and the others were wrong.  Preparing to die for their city was not what had to happen.  As long as they defend it, it will not fall - and they will be around to defend it for a long time.

I'm not sure what our "Rohan had come at last" moment will be.  We're not under an actual siege, so it's harder to know when enough help has come that we can reasonably let go of our despair.  But I do want to point out that the despair is undermined long before the battle is won.  There is still much to fight and die for.

But now they can do it with hope.

This had been a patreon-supported project, but that proved too annoying to maintain.  If you would like to financially support this project, drop $1.11 (or any amount, I suppose) into my Venmo!

ChatGPT contributed about 2% to this post's final version, because I couldn't remember the term "group polarization," and Google wasn't helpful.