WAR OF THE WORLDS, REVISITED

WAR OF THE WORLDS, REVISITED

(Fictionalizing a piece of fiction might seem a futile enterprise. But if you want to try, why not start out with a classic?  Then you can accuse your critics of bashing a masterpiece!)  ram            

You probably know the story.  Written by British Author H.G. Wells in 1897, it is a classic science fiction piece.  On Halloween in 1937, American Orson Welles Mercury Theater presented it on radio.  The airing was so realistic, hundreds of people thought it real, and there was considerable panic.

The story is of a Martian invasion of Earth.  With superior weapon technology and intellectual development, it seemed that the Martians would indeed take over the planet.  In the end, though, the entire invading Martian force was felled because of their inability to resist the ordinary microbes in our air.  They did not possess the human’s immunity, and thus the Martian’s perished.  We were saved by the bacteria floating in our atmosphere.  Humans one, Martian’s nothing….or so the story goes.  Today, though, I’d like to present the story from the perspective of the Martians.

“Our planet was inhabited long before the origins of life on Earth.  Our civilization was a million years old when yours was just emerging from the ocean depths.  But because of the proximity of your planet to ours, we felt it prudent to observe your activities.  Or, to put it your way, ‘keep tabs on you,’

“And so we watched.  Watched as your species gradually evolved from a sea based to a land based one.  Up to that point it was closely mirroring our own Martian History.

“As soon as some of your predecessors began to walk upright on two legs, you quickly (in geological terms) began to use your front appendages to create rudimentary tools…again…a very familiar history to ours.

“But then your species took what we felt was a very dangerous and negative turn.  You began to have conflicts.  Not conflicts based only on competing species, but amongst your own human family.  At first we had trouble understanding this.  But we did recognize it as an alarming turn in your evolution. Martians do not fight among themselves.  We consider our race as family.  We knew that as you developed more scientific and technological prowess, given your propensity towards conflict, that sooner or later it might become necessary and prudent for us to intervene…especially as your material progress was more and more subverting any desire to live free of conflict.  So we waited…hoping that sooner or later you would understand that your bountiful planet was big enough for all, unless humankind chose to use it as a test of strength.  It seemed that ‘possessing’ was your race’s substitution for ‘sharing.’

“The concept of ‘ownership’ is foreign to Martians.  But as Humans invented artificial boundaries, ‘countries’ I think you call them, it became more and more apparent that once you began reaching out to explore other worlds, there would likely be human competition to establish ownership of those worlds.  And the most likely to be first on your list would be our own beloved planet of Mars.

“In what retrospectively turned out to be a naïve way of thinking, we felt that if your world were to perceive a common, non human threat, perhaps you might realize the absolute folly of separating yourselves from each other.  Your race had already conquered all those species who were able to intimidate you.  Bigger and stronger animals were no longer a threat.  Wild wolves were bred to be friendly pets…crocodilians rarely attacked on land.  With the exception of other humans, all other species were, for the most part, contained and represented no threat to you.

“And your weapons were getting more and more lethal.  From our exploratory vehicles we could see the huge explosions.  We marveled at the efficiency with which you had learned to vanquish just about everything…animals, cities, mountains, oceans, forests, and most alarmingly, OTHER HUMANS.  And as you raised your eyes to the heavens, we knew you were not too far from attempting to export your destructive culture to other worlds.

“We had to act.

“It would be, of course, a suicide mission for those of us who volunteered.  We were well aware that we could not survive in the bacterial flora and fauna of the Earth’s Atmosphere.  But there was a greater fear for both your civilization and ours if we did nothing.  Maybe…just maybe, we thought, as humankind thought of us as a common threat, the people of Earth would band together into the family they could be, and recognize that they needed to act for the common welfare of their own species, or to become relegated to the history of a dead planet.

“Not that we ever really wanted to conquer Earth, or take ownership of it.  Nor did we want to become masters over the human race.  No.  Our goal was really to unite humankind against a perceived common enemy.  It was, of course, a long shot given the cantankerous and warlike history of the peoples of  Earth.  Our plan was, to use an earthly expression, to ‘scare the living hell out of them.’  There was precious little time for us to accomplish our mission.  Once landing on the planet our bodies would have at most two or three days before your infectious atmosphere would do us in.  The volunteers bade their farewells and headed towards Earth.

“The next few days panicked all parts of Earth.  We did, in fact, ‘scare the living hell’ out of you.  The almost instantaneous cooperation between nations was indeed impressive.  Different peoples, different languages and conflicting ideologies were suddenly acting in unison.  Every device invented to kill other human beings was being consolidated against the Martian ‘Invaders.’  They were only marginally effective, and throughout the few days of the ‘war’ we always were cognizant of the fact that we would ultimately be defeated…not by man made weapons, but by the primordial dust lingering from the planet’s genesis.  But the peoples of the Earth felt they had defeated a malicious barbaric alien civilization…by acting in concert with each other.  And we were quite content to have them think those thoughts.

“Back on Mars, those who had watched, smiled.  Of course the loss of our brave volunteer travelers would be mourned.  Regrettable as that was, we believed it had been worth it.  We had saved Earth’s Civilizations, and ultimately, perhaps our own.  We Martians had shown Earth’s peoples that by cooperating within their societies, they could accomplish wondrous things…and that internal conflicts were unproductive.  Simple cooperation had prevailed over superior forces.  They had learned that disputes over territory and resources were sheer folly!  They resolved that from that day of victory onward, Earth would be one world united and inseperable…always acting for the good of all.  Both Mars AND Earth won the war of the worlds.

“On Earth, harmony was resolute and eternal. 

“It lasted for about a week.”

Bob Meyerson

July 2015

MEMOIR OF A FRIEND

MEMOIR OF A FRIEND

             

People and dogs historically have had a special relationship.  I’ve had cats, who can be loveable creatures, guinea pigs, cute but stupid, tropical fish…beautiful in many ways, but neither cute or loving.  But dogs, especially the one I’m going to tell you about, tug at the heartstrings like no other species.

And that’s not to say they are the most intelligent non humans on Earth.  Many of the apes, marine mammals, and, I’ve been told, Pigs rate higher on the intellectual scale than dogs.

Growing up in apartments, I was never able to keep a dog.  But was drawn to just about every canine belonging to my friends, and even strays willing to spend a few minutes allowing me to scratch their ears or rub their bellies.

So, when I finally was living in a suburban home of my own, one of the first things I wanted to do was enter the world of dog ownership.  And I didn’t particularly care what breed or combination of breeds it would be.  I just wanted a puppy.

It’s a good thing I wasn’t too specific.  He was a mix of several differing generations of mixes.  I never liked the term “mutt,” so when asked about his breed, I would answer; “Plain Dog.”

Since he had come from an environment of questionable sanitation, the first thing we did was take him to a vet to make sure he was healthy.  The veterinarian’s assistant asked what his name was.  We hadn’t named him.  The woman said he “looked like an Elmer.”  That’s what he was, and remained.

Our house in New Jersey had a screened in porch which faced the street.  Every day as I drove up the driveway, there was Elmer peering out.  He would disappear immediately on seeing my car, but was at the front door when I came in.  And I soon learned to brace myself for his affectionate leaping attacks on my person.

While I always liked to think I was his favorite, the fact is that Elmer simply loved people…it took a while, but we soon learned that not all of our friends enjoyed having their faces licked upon entering our home.

Elmer had some peculiarities.  Most dogs love to chase a tossed ball and bring it back to their human playmate.  Elmer vigorously would chase the ball, pick it up in his mouth, and turn back towards me.  But he would not return the ball.  He would simply drop it at his feet and wait until I came to pick it up.  It became evident who was training who.

Elmer watched first son Steve and then daughter Jody come into the home.  He posed no threat to them…both his human newcomers were welcomed as younger siblings.  To this day I believe he taught my son how to walk…on all fours.

Was Elmer smart?  Of course I believe he was the brightest dog that ever lived.  If he was hungry he would push his empty bowl at your feet until it was filled.  He had four rubber toys; a football, a lamb chop, a chicken, and a piece of bread.  Even when in a different room, I commanded; “Elmer, go get your chicken,” (or any of the other toys) he would race to where they were and return with the correct toy…always….well, most of the time.

While he doted on the companionship of humans, when it came to other animals, not so much.  We once had out of town guests who brought their tiny chihuahua to stay with us for a couple of days.  Although about three times the size of the visiting canine, Elmer spent those two days hiding under the bed.  His fear of animals was not limited to other dogs.  Cat’s, squirrels and even large insects terrified him.

By the time we were moving to California, Elmer was already thirteen years old, and showing signs of slowing down.  But he still was as affectionate and loving as ever.  So we bought a pet carrier, and upon the Vet’s recommendation, tossed a pair of my unwashed socks into the cage before it was loaded onto the plane.  When, upon arrival at SFO we picked up the container  there was blood on the rungs of the cage where our poor dog had tried in vain to gnaw his way out.  He survived the trip in the cargo hold, but was never the same.

Two years after arriving in California, my wife and I had separated and were living apart.  The children and Elmer stayed with their mother for the most part.  I had a job where I traveled frequently, and often without prior notice.  Steve and Jody did spend alternate weekends at my place, and I always got a wet dog kiss from Elmer when I picked them up.

The dog was nearly seventeen, with multiple ailments from crippling arthritis to incontinence to cancer.  My ex-wife in consultation with the local Veterinarian came to the logical conclusion that Elmer had to be put down.  Sadly, I could only agree. The night before his final day, I went to say goodbye to my buddy.  He was in a room by himself.  When he saw me he slowly walked over, and with a painful shriek, the result of his arthritic hips, he jumped up to give me one more slobbery dog kiss.  Saying goodbye to that dog was one of the most tearful experiences of my life.  My bond to him, and, I’d like to think, his to me, was as deep as any between humans.  “Goodbye, Old Friend.”

Elmer has been gone for over thirty years.  Almost twice his time alive.  I still feel him.  I love dogs, cats, just about every animal I can think of.  But if I could have the most exotic pet in the world, I would have that ragged nondescript chunky piece of unconditional love beside me exactly as he was.

Thanksgiving? For who?

Thanksgiving?  For who?

         Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday.  It is unique to me because it is not a commemoration of a war victory celebration, and only slightly borders on religion…after all, to WHOM do we give thanks?  I think of it as simply thanking the bounty of nature and let it go at that.

         I’ve liked the idyllic mental picture of native Americans and Pilgrims sitting down together, sharing peace and the bounty of the land.

         But lately, I feel the need to question the purity of this uniquely American Holiday. A few disturbing thoughts crop up, and invade the sense of self satisfaction in my mind. 

I suppose that somewhere in New England, European Pilgrims and native Americans did sit down in friendship.  It’s a nice picture.  But was it because of love, trust and brotherhood, or because firearms had proven more effective than bows and arrows?

         History, as taught, often fails to track with history as fact.  Examples of this dichotomy are there for any of us who didn’t give up thinking after eighth grade.  And when we suspend critical thinking we make mistakes.

         My discomfort comes from two basic directions.  First, peace and harmony between the European invaders and the Native Americans is largely myth.  Those indigenous people had already or were soon to be evicted from their own holy land by interlopers bent on stealing the land and destroying the culture.  For the Native Americans, Thanksgiving was more akin to the Last Supper rather than to a joyful and thankful feast.

         My other confusion about the holiday was thinking it was not a religious celebration.  To who were those of no faith bowing their heads at the onset of the meal?  Was it to the Native American or European sacred giver of all things?  And for what, exactly?  I think the thoughts at that first Thanksgiving must have been quite diverse.  The settlers had learned from the Indians, and to show their appreciation, were already in the process of dismantling an entire ancient culture.  And the expected result was that the people of the indigenous culture the europeans were murdering should be thanking the invaders for their ‘civilizing’ efforts.

         Those European invaders, and we who have culturally inherited their legacy, whether we came over on the Mayflower or later as part of the “huddled masses” in packed refugee vessels might have had a different take on Thanksgiving had we taken the time to explore the civilization we were burying, rather than just congratulate ourselves for taming the native savages. 

         So, my uneasiness concerning this holiday has as its basis, a skewed history full of racism, injustice and above all, cultural self righteousness.  We bestow this honor upon ourselves and upon those who came before us. 

         If, in fact, Thanksgiving is a semi-religious holiday which I believe it to be, at which time we give thanks for nature’s largesse, then to whom do those from whom we took everything…land…religion…customs and culture give thanks?  Do they have reason to give thanks living on tiny parcels of land called reservations? 

         But I think an admission is appropriate here. Fact is, I LOVE and believe in the Thanksgivings of my youth…Uncomplicated and guilt free.  I still have the feeling that it is about love, brotherhood, mutual respect and consideration. 

         My views are, without a doubt, inconsistent.  I have long given up the idea that they can be reconciled.  So I believe both versions at the same time, and make no apologies for my obviously hypocritically conflicting views.

         Let me leave you with a final premise: Thanksgiving is both the most beautiful of all holidays, even though it was to used to try to destroy an entire race of people.  How can those two truths exist together?  They should be mutually exclusive.

Ponder and hold these thoughts in deep contemplation for endless and untold hours throughout your life:

         But, whatever you do, don’t overthink things.

What if Climate Change is a MYTH?

What if Climate Change is a MYTH?

I was a smoker back in my college days.  In the 1950’s just about everyone I knew was.  But the word was getting out and the evidence growing stronger that cigarettes were killing people.  The proof hadn’t satisfied most, and even my doctor was still puffing away.  The tobacco industry was still advertising on TV, usually with an actor wearing a long white coat and a stethoscope.  As the data was rolling to the point of overwhelming, I remember seeking solace in a book, written by doctors, (financed by the cigarette manufacturers) and titled, “Smoke Without Fear.”  How comforting.

At a point in the late 1950’s or early 1960’s a report came out that some of New England’s cranberry crop had been found to contain traces of possibly carcinogenic insecticides.  At worst, it was said the levels were so low as to not pose much of a threat to health…and cranberries were  the source of many nutritional benefits.

At a large Thanksgiving dinner hosted by a friend of mine, about half of those present, (including me) passed on the cranberry sauce.  A few of the guests even had ash trays at the table in order to light up between courses.

Then someone made the observation that in spite of the snowballing evidence about the lethal nature of tobacco, most of the cranberry abstainers were also chain smokers. 

“Even if not all the proof isn’t in,” he said, “given the preponderance of the scientific consensus, wouldn’t it make sense to stop smoking? What would be the harm in that?  Didn’t continuing to smoke in the face of overwhelming scientific proof defy logic?  At least as logical as giving up cranberries because one batch was found to be weakly contaminated?”

While I don’t think that statement caused any of us to quit smoking or resume cranberry ingestion, in time most of us would do both.  At least the ones who escaped the ravages of tobacco use.  Of course, they stopped too.  But they stopped being alive.

So now we watch the deniers of climate change, who tell us the evidence is ‘controversial,’ and until the last non believer comes into the other ninety nine percent fold, we should not accept the evidence.  I don’t use the term ‘global warning,’ even though the fact is our earth is heating up.  The reason I won’t use that term is because it invites those who want to to intentionally confuse it with the word ‘weather.’  As one esteemed US Senator pontificated with a snowball in hand, that somehow that disproved the ‘myth’ of global warming.  A colder than usual winter on the east coast does not conveniently measure up to the simplistic ‘global warming’ label….but it does, in fact point out that CLIMATE is changing.

Given the current level of proof, this ex smoker now asks the question, “What is the down side of acting to reduce the amount of garbage we pump into the atmosphere every day?”  Does anyone looking at a refinery belching out black soot into the air think that that is a good thing?  Does ingesting exhaust fumes into one’s lungs have a positive side?  Do certain industrial areas wind up known a ‘cancer alleys’ benefit society?

Should nations get together to actually DO SOMETHING in this area, we must admit that there will, in fact, be some negative effects.  Among the losers will be the industries dependent upon fossil fuels.  They will either invest in alternative sources of energy or they will suffer financially.  The politicians who benefit from the financial largesse of some of the profiteers whose water they carry, will be losers.

So why take the RISK of doing anything?  Is putting the business interest of the few really fair? 

I had to take an accounting course in college…I was terrible at it.  But I did learn something about ledgers…debits, credits, and the bottom line.  On the ‘debit’ side, I see Exxon Mobil, the Koch brothers, and a few near east monarchies.  Maybe the speculators, who trade in poisoning the planet.

But if humankind acts in time (and it may already be too late) there will be a large ‘credit’ column...  Countries and states that are facing ever increasing floods from the rising oceans.  People who will rediscover the fact that our sky is blue.  Workers who jobs sentence them to an early and horrible death.

There’s one more category.  Those people who at the end of a days work or the end of a career who can honestly claim to have contributed to society…not just the bottom line.  But wait, as the TV pitches say, there’s MORE!...those of us who like to breathe; want to feel safe when we drink our water or eat our vegetables; those who don’t feel they should be getting a dose of mercury when they eat seafood; those silly people who can see, hear and taste what evil we are bestowing on our planet, and believe it is wrong.