ThomStratton.com

I came across this interesting article from Europe, quoting statements by a former Georgian defense minister on how Georgia managed to avoid being absorbed by Russia in the 2008 invasion. The minister, Dmitri Shashkin, feels the American response, though late, was decisive enough to make the difference:

But in fact, Shishkin says, it was “the Georgian army, international support and specific steps by the US” which “stopped Russia” then. “Many do not know that our peacekeeping brigade returned from Iraq to Tbilisi on American military planes which under the circumstances of war was direct military support by the US.

“Many do not know that Russia could not bomb the Tbilisi airport because American Hercules planes were on the tarmac,”Shishkin continues. “Many do not know that the flagship of the US Fifth Fleet which entered the Black Sea monitored on its radars the airspace in the Tbilisi-Moscow-Volgograd triangle.”

And “many do not know that the August 14 Hercules flights from Jordan were accompanied by (American) fighters. Many do not know that the statement of the commander of these fights that “any activity of Russian planes in the Georgian sky will be considered an attack on the United States of America,” thus effectively closing the Georgian sky to Russian planes.

Read the whole thing, and if still interested, there is this analysis from Breitbart.com

Is there such a thing as “the wrong side of history”? We hear this phrase a lot these days. Jonah Goldberg and Prager University take a closer look at what it means and how seriously we should take it:

Addiction is a horrible thing. We all know that. But The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (my church) has produced a series of video segments outlining the steps of the church’s Addiction Recovery Program that really bring it home. Each segment focuses on a different person who has gone through the program and really hits hard as they describe their path into and out of addiction. It’s tough stuff to watch, but I’m a better person for having done so.

The thing I began to realize, though it’s never stated in the videos, is that we probably all struggle with some form of addiction. Perhaps we don’t develop the level of dependency these people do, but we all have something that we tend to fall back into under certain circumstances even though we know it’s not good for us. We can certainly be grateful our addictions are low-grade, but I don’t think we can judge others for getting caught in the more powerful forms. And clearly judgment is not what they need, anyway. They need support.

I watched the series, and my feelings moved from “there but for the grace of God go I” to “there, through the grace of God go I.” It’s true I’ve been fortunate to have been raised in an environment where most addictive substances were firmly decried and not readily available, but not all means of addiction are illegal, and some are increasingly available anywhere, at any time. There are many things we can become legally addicted to. But the pervasive theme of these videos is one of hope. There is a way out. It’s not easy.

One of my friends and colleagues in the church is a volunteer in the Addiction Recovery Program. I thought I knew what he does, but I have a whole new appreciation for it–and him–now. And I have nothing but respect for those who have made it through. As I understand it you never really stop being addicted. You only diminish the addiction’s power over you, and increase your strength to resist. For anyone who has overcome an addiction, my hat is off to you.

My family, who don’t usually pay much attention to politics, have been hearing and reading a few things about Donald Trump lately, and so our dinner conversations seem to turn in his direction frequently of late. A few times the question has come up as to when the election isto be held. They think it’s coming this fall. I have to tell them, no, it’s next fall. They usually give me a look of incredulity. So long from now?!

I couldn’t agree more. Why do we have to spend nearly two years of the four years between presidential elections dealing with this? And more importantly, how do we go through this exhaustive process and still get to election day without really knowing much of importance about any of the candidates? It’s no wonder Donald Trump is doing so well. This is a beauty pageant, not a serious process for selecting the next leader of our country and the free world.

Yes, supposedly the process is designed to give us every chance to thoroughly vet the candidates, but a goodly portion of their campaign funds are spent throwing up a smokescreen around anything they think might not reflect well on them. Except Trump, whose strategy seems to be to throw up a smokescreen to conceal his good points. Oddly enough, it’s working. Nevertheless, we have a great deal of air time being given to candidates trying to convince us we shouldn’t care about what we care about. All we really seem to learn through all of this is how candidates try to conceal their lies.

It’s a great way to run a reality show, but a terrible way to pick a president. And I’ll bet I’m not the only one who is already really tired of having to hear about all of this. I have next to no say in who the final candidates will be. Do I really need to pay any attention to this until, say, October 2016? Meanwhile our current batch of leaders just love this time. They can do all sorts of stupid things while we’re all watching the circus and eating our bread, and the chances of them being noticed are significantly lower.

Democracy is the second worst form of government in the world after everything else.

The more I see of human behavior lately the more I’m convinced that very few people really want to change the world. Oh, they may say that’s what they want, but that’s not really what we get. That’s because the tools most of these people employ in their effort to bring about change seldom really result in change. They result in resentment, oppression, and festering animosity, but not actual change.

Social media has given everyone a voice, a soapbox to stand on, a public pulpit. The trouble is, people see these outlets as a “bully pulpit”, while taking the term in its modern context. When the term was coined “bully” was an adjective, meaning “fine, excellent, very good“. A “bully pulpit” was a position that gave a person prominence or lent them authority. Many celebrities take advantage of the bully pulpit their celebrity brings to forward their own causes.

But far too many have taken the more recent meaning to heart and use their social media pulpits to bully (to act the bully toward; intimidate; domineer) others into silence. They’re not interested in actually changing their behavior, really. They just want them to shut up. It’s not really about change any more. It’s about winning.

Unfortunately, it’s becoming even more than that. Any more it’s as if people are actually hoping to catch someone behaving badly (by their standards) to provide excuse for them to behave even worse. We seem to be able to excuse any amount of bad behavior on our own part, so long as we can point a finger and say, “I’m only responding to what that person did. They have to learn not to do that, and no amount of bad behavior on my part is too much in pursuit of stopping theirs!”

The trouble is, when has that ever really worked? Such hypocrisy does not initiate change–at least not the kind of change we’re supposedly looking for. It tends to cause the target to dig in their heels. Sure, they may be quiet for a while, but only to keep from drawing attention while they look for a bigger stick with which to hit back. The result is not change, it’s an escalating war, back and forth, tit for tat, until one side gives up, or is killed.

You don’t change minds with mass bludgeonings. But as I said, I’m not so sure changing minds is the real goal any more. It feels good to have power, to wield power. Who cares if that power is really used for good? The power to trash and silence someone is like any other drug. It’s heady stuff to join in an online wolf-pack, to unleash all that vitriol you’ve been storing up. It feels good to see so many others on your side. It makes you giddy to see your enemies on the defensive, to see them (at least in your mind) defeated. Making a public figure miserable, even apologetic, validates your power. Speaking truth to power, championing the underdog, and all that. You are always the victim, and they always deserve everything you give them and more.

And you have to be the victim in order to excuse your response. Without that justification, why, you’d be nothing more than a bully. Victimhood is a free pass for all sorts of nasty behavior that, from an outside observer, would be practically indistinguishable from, or even exceed the nastiness of, the impetus. But we can take comfort and refuge in our victimhood, and ignore the notion that we are in any way unjustified in the severity of our response.

It has always been easier to destroy than to build. Building is no fun. Building takes work. Building takes cooperation, tolerance, judgment and, above all, cooperation. That means reaching out to people who are different, whose views you might disagree with.

For far too many, that’s just asking too much. “Okay, ‘building’ demands too much. Let’s opt for ‘destroying’ instead.”

Do you really want to change the world? You’ll never do it in “tantrum mode.” You have to start with the realization that bad behavior does not justify, and is not changed by, bad behavior. It continues with the admission that any response that does not include patience, tolerance, respect, and the acceptance of the other as a human being of intelligence and value is likely bad behavior.

Sounds hard, doesn’t it. But nothing worthwhile is easy.

My niece got married this weekend, and I was there for most every significant part of that event. It’s been a while since I was involved with a wedding beyond putting in a guest appearance at a reception. For the better part of twenty-four hours I was part of a group of people, most of whom were strangers to me, and who largely remain strangers.

For much of that time there was little else to do but watch one another. For me this is an endless source of fascination. I find watching people interesting. Almost as interesting is watching myself watching people, trying to figure out what it says about me that I notice some people easier than others, and find certain people more interesting to watch than others.

For example, there was one young lady who had a certain Moira Kelly vibe, and who carried herself with a certain je nais se quoi. She wasn’t doing anything particularly fascinating, and there was nothing abnormal about her, but everywhere she went she stood out. Or the husband of one of my sister-in-law’s sisters, playing barista with quiet efficiency and projecting a welcoming aura as he marshalled his small army of volunteers to keep the drink line moving along.

There was the bridesmaid who seemed to find the event rekindled memories of her own recent wedding and her affection for her husband. Or my brother, bustling about like the lord of the manor, greeting guests and seeing to details, and finally getting to enjoy the culmination of several months’ effort and expense–and finding to his amazement and relief that magic can indeed be made.

Or the young man, perhaps ten or so, who was assigned to clear tables and was determined to perform his duties with exactness–and perhaps a touch of impatience with people lingering too long over their delectables when he was bored and eager for something to do. (Been there, done that, I understand completely! He was very polite and didn’t push, but the minute we arose, he swooped in for the kill.)

I also recognized the looks on the faces of the bride and groom, caught up in the excitement of the event, but with a slight deer-in-the-headlights look of two people trying to savor the moment while being pulled in a dozen directions–and away from one another far more than they would like. It’s not easy being the center of attention, the entertainment, the source of magic that everyone wants to feel for themselves for a moment. I hardly saw them all evening, but those few glimpses told me all I needed to know. Been there, done that, too.

On our way out to go home I discovered a smattering of people in the parking lot; some on phones, some catching some air, some experiencing private emotions. I only wish I could have watched them longer, to guess at their stories. Probably for the best that I didn’t. People watching in a crowded place is expected and normal. In a sparse parking lot is…creepy. Nothing to see here. Move along.

But inside… Well, I could have stayed at least another hour or two, just observing.

It’s probably no surprise to anyone that I have no respect for Miley Cyrus. And I suspect she doesn’t place much importance on my opinions, either. But she isn’t helping her case any when she appears on the Tonight Show wearing pasties and defends herself with the following, when asked what her father would think:

“My dad doesn’t know how to turn on the TV,” she joked. “He’d rather have me with my tits out and being a good person than rather have my shirt on and be a b**ch.”

Are we expected to believe those are the only two options available to her? Is she seriously insinuating that people who believe in shirts are not good people? The trouble is, she also seems to have strange ideas about what constitutes being a “good person.”

In a recent interview with Time magazine, Cyrus — who’s hosting Saturday Night Live on Oct. 3 — opened up as to why she sports such scantily-clad outfits. “I’m using it as a power stance,” she said of the nudity and strategically placed pasties. “It’s funny to see people try to look me in the eye.”

So she uses her nudity as a means of intimidation and to provide herself amusement over the resulting discomfort? That doesn’t sound like a “good person” to me. If a man were to do that at work or on the street that would be indecent exposure at best, sexual harassment at worst. Going against socially accepted standards specifically to make people uncomfortable for your amusement is not something a person does out of concern or consideration for others. And any list of qualities of a “good person” that does not include consideration for others is seriously lacking.

Miley, I know this might be an original thought, but try being a good person with your shirt on. I suspect your dad would prefer that to either of the only two options you seem to be able to imagine.

My son has a goal of going to the Pokemon World Championships. As parents we’re excited to see him motivated about something, and so we’re doing what we can to support him in this. For me that means, among other things, serving as a sparring partner. And that means I need to develop my own playing ability to, if not World Championship levels, at least a level where I can provide a challenge to someone at that level.

I know what you’re thinking. “Yeah, not much of a sacrifice there, Thom.” And you’re probably right. I do enjoy playing games. And I find I do enjoy them even more when I actually can provide a challenge. To do that I’ve had to humble myself a little and listen to better players on how to improve my game. This means listening to my son. He’s had to teach me how to play at his level.

But to be a good sparring partner I need to learn to think in ways he may not have considered. I need to try different things to help him improve his own decks and game. So with that end in mind I entered a tournament this week at our local league. Some exposure to other players and their decks could only be a good thing.

I haven’t entered a tournament for a card game in at least twenty years since I tried a local tournament for another game and had bad experience with a jerk of an opponent. I decided then that I really didn’t need that sort of rubbish in my life and I was just fine confining myself to family and friends.

But Pokemon seems different. Yes, there are a few bad apples, but most of the players–of all ages–I’ve met are good sports, and pleasant people. And I’m a little older now, and perhaps a little wiser, and maybe even a little more thick-skinned. And it’s for my son. The things we do for the good of the children.

I’d like to say I wasn’t nervous. And at first I wasn’t. My first match was against the former league organizer who was a judge at the recent World Championship. He’s got a reputation as a good player. I didn’t think much of my chances, so there wasn’t anything to be nervous about. And sure enough, not only did he have a better deck and more experience, but my deck fell flat. There was nothing to do but laugh. Every single card I needed seemed to be hiding from me. He swept me in short order.

My next game was with someone from my son’s age group. And at first it looked like a similar story. I couldn’t get the cards I needed. Fortunately neither could he. He made some interesting choices that left me alive long enough for my deck to start cooperating.

And that is when I started getting nervous. Nothing makes me nervous, I guess, as much as actually having a chance of winning. Things started going my way, then avalanching my way, and suddenly I won my first game. And I was a mess. My hands were shaking.

Then for my last game I was paired with a gentleman in my age group. As we were getting set up he asked me if I was a PokeDad. I admitted I was. I’m not sure what that meant in his book, but it almost seemed like a condescending question. But I wasn’t concerned until I saw his cards start to come out. He was playing a deck much like the one that won the World Championship. I knew what that meant: I had better get a good, fast start or I’d be toast.

I didn’t get a good start. But neither did he. As a result I was just ready enough by the time he got his offense set up. And again I started getting nervous. I had a small lead at that point, then expanded it quickly with one of my heavy-hitters before he brought out his own heavy-hitter. I fed him a few sacrifices to try and soften him up while I tried to get my next counter-stroke set up, and I somehow made some very good choices.

Then, in a final gambit I took a chance that relied mainly on luck. Not fantastic luck, mind you, just average luck. But average luck tends to elude me at the worst times. The game came down to two coin flips (my pokemon had an attack where you flipped two coins and did 20 damage for each heads). I needed one of those two to be heads to win. By law of averages I should be able to do that, but I’ve had games where I’ve had some terribly long runs of tails. My first flip was tails. My second flip was…heads.

I finished 2-1 for my debut event, and earned fifth place (out of seven) in my group. I suspect I ranked lower because one of my opponents was from the lower group and therefore was someone I should have been able to beat (they clearly haven’t met my son). But that doesn’t matter that much. The win for me was that, in spite of nerves, I was able to keep my head and play solid games. I made mistakes, but not many. I even made some semi-inspired moves.

I went in expecting to go 0-3, frankly. And there were people there that, had I been paired with them, I would have. My son, for one (he got first place in his group). But I went in hoping to gain experience and see what other players are doing. I came away feeling like, by golly, I really have improved. And, yes, I had fun.

I’ve just got to do something about the nerves.

I’ve been reading The Fellowship of the Ring again lately, and this time its struck me just how often characters sit and think things through. While this doesn’t happen “on camera” most of the time, it’s nonetheless there. The wiser the character the more they spend time thinking, sometimes far into the night.

Pondering is not something we’re big on these days. “The life of the mind,” just doesn’t get the airplay it used to. Not that anyone has time any more to just sit and think. If we’re lucky the closest thing we have is conversations with friends in which we think aloud at one another and bounce ideas about. Granted, those can be quite fun, interesting, and fulfilling conversations, but they’re not as common as they should be.

The other alternative is during boring, repetitive work when the brain can mostly roam free, but even then the thought processes are regularly interrupted. No, just sitting and thinking is, if not out of favor, certainly out of practice. And I wonder if we’re not worse off for it. Or at least I would if I had the time to ponder such things.

Perhaps this is why I blog, though I’m not sure that is even a reasonable substitute.