I am re-publishing this column in observance of Veterans' Day, and in honor of my Dad, a veteran of World War II and D-Day. They must never be forgotten, especially now that fascism, the very plague my dad and his comrades fought and bled to exterminate, is gaining power in Europe and even in the United States.
"For at any price, we must keep those who have too clear a conscience from living and dying in peace." -- E. M. Cioran, "Thinking Against Oneself" in The Temptation to Exist
Given how short Americans’ collective historical memory has become, many people – and it may be all “millennials” – would be hard-pressed to attach any significance to today: 6 June 2017. But before someone cues up the theme music from “Final Jeopardy”, please allow me to enlighten you: as of today, it has
This “Skeptic’s” column tackles a subject that is both delicate and volatile: suicide. People who have known me for a fairly long time are well acquainted with a time in my life – during the time in Boston at Harvard and later at Seattle University during the equally ill-advised quest for the MDiv -- when I was undergoing episodes of very severe, quite arguably pre-suicidal, clinical depression. So – for the benefit of those people, for “my mariners, souls that have toiled and wrought and thought with me” – I want to emphasize that the following column does not describe me as I am now. Quite the contrary. I am not in crisis. I am not depressed. I am not afflicted with suicidal ideation – a term I came to know all too intimately during the “winter of [my] discontent”. So those of you
My boy Bentley went to Rainbow Bridge this week. He had only been sick a few days, but the vet found cancer in the x-rays. I didn't get to say goodbye to him because he lived with my ex. My heart is completely broken. He was a faithful companion to all of us. He still had what I called a "baby bark" when he got really excited--he reserved that most of the time for grandma. I loved how he would tell me he wanted his belly rubbed. He would nudge my leg with his paw. It made me laugh every time. When I was having trouble with one of my feet, he would come to where I was sitting and bathe my foot with what I always thought of as his "magic tongue." It always made the pain easier to bear.
All of us who knew and loved him miss him with all our hearts. I still have his sister whom I love ...