Alexandersmap

    Category: History

    • Thoughts On Metacomet

      I let it slip by yesterday, mostly because my mind was on other things. 350 years ago yesterday, Metacomet, also known as King Philip, was killed in Mount Hope (Bristol, RI), effectively ending the war named for him. I’ve spent some meaningful time in that area, read my share of history of the events leading up to and during the war, and have my own feelings about how the whole thing went down. America’s history is full of violence and injustice. To think otherwise is naive. The question is always, what are we doing today to influence a more positive outcome for all of us tomorrow?

      When I started writing this blog, local history was more prominent in the posts. I had more time to wander about in the region that makes up Alexander’s Map back then than I do now. I’m still a student of history, and still seek out places where things of consequence happened. Like most of us, focus shifts as we move through stages of life. This blog shifts accordingly.

      Still, Metacomet has always been on my mind since reading his history. His wife and son were sold into slavery and most likely sent to Bermuda. While in Bermuda last year I wandered around in the old graveyard behind St. Peter’s Church and wondered if they were buried there. Such things are likely lost to history, but we may remember, and we may learn.

      King Philip’s War was fought to stop the relentless encroachment of English settlement in the northeast corner of North America. Like the French and Indian War (known globally as the Seven Years War) and the Revolutionary War, it was one of three major events that determined the future of the region. The New England colonies and adjacent colonies, the maritimes in Canada, and the lives and histories of countless peoples and cultures were determined by these three events. The tragedy of King Philip’s War is that it was a clash of cultures that would play out again and again in North America. The winners always write the history, the losers fade from memory.

      Being educated on historical events offers an enlightened alternative to being blissfully unaware of who we are and how we got here. Maybe this blog won’t ever be a social studies class for the masses, but touching on interesting landmarks, milestones and artifacts of our history highlights our shared identity. We either learn from history or eventually repeat it. As Metacomet would remind us, nothing is forever. That’s something to remember.

    • Do Not Waste Your Time in Driblets

      “Follow, my dear boy, an honorable calling, which shall engross your time and give you position and fame, and besides enable you to benefit your fellow man. Do not waste your time in driblets.” — Charles Sumner

      As you might have noticed, the blog posts are back with more frequency again. I like to be productive with my time, and subscribe to the use it or lose it theory of active living. The it in that expression may be my mind as much as my writing skills. When I write I’m an active seeker. When I don’t write I seek less. The answer seems to be to keep writing. But always with the caveat to seek more that is interesting. Now and then that actually translates to the blog. Fingers crossed.

      Some of that time not writing was used for reading more. We are what we consume, and I’m consuming far more lately than my average. A leftover book (from which I plucked the quote above) from a recent flurry of Paris-related reading is David McCullough’s The Greater Journey: Americans in Paris. The theme of the book is the quest for more beyond the ordinary. Aspiring for more, exceptional people in history sought out Paris in particular to find what they were missing.

      The thing is, I’d just finished McCullough’s excellent book, The Wright Brothers, and wasn’t looking to jump into another of his books so soon. I read a couple of chapters of another book with a promising title but quickly grew dissatisfied with my choice. I’d read three great books in a row, and wasn’t going to settle for something that bored me to tears. When you’ve tasted the possibility of greatness, why waste time on driblets? Dive vigorously into the full menu!

      Those Wright Brothers were a fine example in not wasting time. Intelligent, highly-focused, industrious and open to calculated risks, they changed the world. We all know of Kitty Hawk, but that first powered flight was but a first step. They had to then go show the world what they’d built, and how to use it. A significant part of their story happened in France. If you’re looking for inspiration to move beyond settling for the driblets in your own life, reading The Wright Brothers offers a glimpse into how to get it done.

      To do more with the opportunity at hand is the thing. We each have the same amount of time today to work with. Just what are we doing with the hours? Might we choose a more savory bite off of the menu? Don’t we owe it to ourselves to sprinkle a little zip on top? Today leads to tomorrow, after all. Be bold today, that we may look back in wonder at all we’ve done. We must never forget that its the doing that leads to the done.

    • To Do at Last

      I bless the night that nourished my heart
      To set the ghosts of longing free
      Into the flow and figure of dream
      That went to harvest from the dark
      Bread for the hunger no one sees.

      All that is eternal in me
      Welcome the wonder of this day,
      The field of brightness it creates
      Offering time for each thing
      To arise and illuminate.

      I place on the altar of dawn:
      The quiet loyalty of breath,
      The tent of thought where I shelter,
      Wave of desire I am shore to
      And all beauty drawn to the eye.

      May my mind come alive today
      To the invisible geography
      That invites me to new frontiers,
      To break the dead shell of yesterdays,
      To risk being disturbed and changed.

      May I have the courage today
      To live the life that I would love,
      To postpone my dream no longer
      But do at last what I came here for
      And waste my heart on fear no more.
      — John O’Donohue, A Morning Offering

      For Saint Patrick’s Day, a morning offering from a revered Irish writer. And what a poem it is! Go on and read it once again, I don’t mind at all. I’ve read it a few times more myself, considered what to go with and in the end quoted the poem in its entirety.

      Patrick chased the snakes out of Ireland. George Washington and Henry Knox chased the British out of Boston Harbor. We note the history of this day but ought to remember to make a little history ourselves. Forget drowning in pint or dram—find your stride today instead. A wee bit of poetry, a soundtrack of favorite Irish music, a brisk walk, and some writing of our own. Perhaps a splash of green to mark the occasion. The 17th of March is a day for action, not simply commemoration.

      The truth is, we get worn down by life and need to be provoked back on track. To break the dead shell of yesterdays and regain that courage to do at last what we came here for. There’s nothing to be done about all that’s happened before today, save to learn from it. Use this time to chase away our own snakes and move onward towards a brighter future. To welcome the wonder of this day by doing it justice.

    • Nothing Can Come From Nothing

      “Ex nihilo nihil fit: nothing can come from nothing”

      Those Romans knew a good maxim when they encountered one. I suppose the bad maxims are simply lost to history, but the great ones are timeless. Surely, nothing can come from nothing. We get what we put into things. This applies equally well to our fitness level, our relationships, our personal finance and our education. Consider the universe and where it came from. Will we know all the answers in our lifetime? Of course not. But we can keep on seeking answers in our time.

      Have a look around at the hot mess that is global leadership. It didn’t just pop up overnight, it evolved out of anger and lack of diligence and a perfect storm of technology and wealth accumulation. The generation that fought fascism is passing away, the generations that followed simply forgot that history rhymes.

      We get what we deserve.

      We’d all grown rather complacent.

      And here we are.

      But here’s the thing; there is substance and resolve at our core. We have something to say about the matter, even as we are driven off the cliff by the abrasive minority. We’ll either do something, or we’ll do nothing. Just remember that maxim if it’s the latter.

    • Inevitable Leveling

      “Yes I know that the drop of water carried along by its weight, can ascend to the sky in vapor only to fall again in rain. But the wear and tear of rock, the gravel that the stream carries to the river and the river to the sea, the granite that disintegrates, I know that all that will not again go up the fatal incline; and the highest mountains dissolve into the valley, the plain where their ruins accumulate and become equal. Everything falls from a height less and less lofty with a fall more and more shallow. This inevitable leveling is accomplished hour by hour and minute by minute under our very eyes. In life manner the whole material world equalizes and tempers its energies.” — André Gide, Autumn Leaves

      The world is full of political upheavals, violent ascents to power and greedy grabbers of gobs of money. It has always been this way, it likely always will. Such drama always grabs headlines. We may even say rightfully so, for we all ought to pay attention to those who want it all, because we’ve seen where the pursuit of everything leads them.

      It’s the gradual leveling out through democracy, diplomacy, equal opportunity and consensus-building that quietly builds worlds, results in decades of relative stability and peace. We get a little too complacent in such times. We grow comfortable and lazy with democracy. We stop being frugal and become over-exuberant in our spending habits. We forget that to be indebted to others is to be an indentured servant. The opportunists see their opening and away they go.

      Time settles everything. It likely won’t be in our lifetime, but maybe in that of our grandchildren’s children maybe humanity will reach its potential. Assuming we don’t destroy humanity and mother earth in the interim. Earth will bounce back when she shrugs us off (she has eternity to level out again, after all). It’s humanity’s story that is being written through time.

      It’s easy to lose faith in humanity when things seem so ugly. But even now there is an inevitable leveling happening right before our eyes. It’s best to be patiently aware, ethically opportunistic and emotionally resilient when ugliness reigns. After all, we’re playing the long game. It’s best to remember that, especially as others forget.

    • The World Will Be What We Make It

      “I should like to say to the young people disoriented by the absence of faith: to make the world rime with something is up to you alone!
      It is up to man, and man is the starting point. The world, this absurd world, will stop being absurd; it is up to you alone. The world will be what you make it.
      The more you tell me and insist there is nothing absolute in this world and in our sky, that truth, justice and beauty are man’s creations, the more I insist that it is then up to man to maintain them, that his honor demands it. Man is responsible to God”
      — André Gide, Autumn Leaves

      Gide took on the existentialists with this quote. In the aftermath of World War II, as an old man looking around at disoriented youth in France and beyond, he stood for faith and a higher power. In a book that often felt like a rambling conversation to this point, he shook the room with this chapter entitled “Literary Memories and Present-Day Problems” from a lecture he’d done in 1946. The world was licking its wounds then, and in many ways we still haven’t recovered.

      Just who created truth, justice and beauty? Was it man or God? If it was the former, can it not simply be undone by mankind? Do we not see that happening in the world today? To put our faith in humanity to find its way back to the pillars of truth, justice and beauty relies on humanity being inclined to ascend to higher ground in the first place. Have you seen what people focus on?

      I write, perhaps too frequently, about arete or personal excellence as the standard. The fact is, most people are just trying to get through the day, never considering their own agency. To aspire to excellence for all of humanity seems naive at best. And so people turn towards God as the logical creator.

      I’m not here to challenge your faith, or to advocate for it either. I believe what I believe, you believe what you believe, and we may coexist peacefully to the end of our days and find out who was right on the back end. But even writing that sentence would have been deemed too radical in some points in history, and in some places in the world today. So how are we to reach consensus on raising the standard for all of humanity? It seems beyond our collective ability to even try.

      Perhaps we may agree that the world is absurd. It surely is for those who pay attention to such things. And what are we to do with this absurdity but maintain our stance, that we aren’t knocked over in the tumultuous days that inevitably follow? We must be resilient, and build resiliency into our lives, that we may survive the ineptitude and carelessness of others. That we may dare to thrive in a fractured world.

      In order to maintain our stance, we must find solid ground on which to make our stand. For many, this is religion and faith. For others, it’s philosophy, nature, science, and law and order. One may of course believe in both, but those aren’t the people screaming for heads to roll. People become radicalized when they feel that their very foundation is being eroded by the whims of others. Nobody likes to have their foundations torn away by the non-believers of their particular belief.

      So where do we go from here? Honor demands more of us, if we are to ever be—what’s the word?—Great. But one person’s great is another’s chaos. No matter which “side” we fall on, we may agree that we have a long way to go. But agreeing requires consensus, not sides. There’s still so much work to do in our fight for truth, justice and beauty. And the world will be what we make it.

    • Beliefs and Truths

      “Trust, but verify.” — Ronald Reagan

      There’s an interesting story about that expression, “Trust but verify”, attributed to Ronald Reagan. During his Presidency, when the Cold War between the US and the USSR peaked, an advisor to the President told him that the Soviets like to communicate using proverbs. “Trust, but verify” is the english version of an old Russian proverb, doveryai, no proveryai. Whatever we each may believe about Ronald Reagan as a President, we can all agree that he was a talented communicator who captured the imagination of his followers. All consensus begins with some agreed-upon truth. Reagan’s use of the proverb met the Russians on their ground, and it made all the difference.

      Coming from a long line of travelling sales people on my mother’s side
      I wasn’t gonna buy just anyone’s cockatoo
      So why would I invite a complete stranger into my home
      Would you?
      — U2, Breathe

      One should never challenge the beliefs of another person, just as one should never impose their own beliefs on another person. That doesn’t mean we aren’t allowed to question those beliefs, or to decide for ourselves what makes the most sense for us. We are not simply zealots; we are intelligent beings moving through a lifetime of information, sifting through all that experience to find our truth. We may be living in a time when people don’t want to agree upon a common truth, but that doesn’t make the presence of that truth any less true.

      “I don’t want to believe. I want to know.” ― Carl Sagan

      I’m not a scientist, nor an engineer, but I still prefer my information diet to be rich in fact and truth. Skepticism is not a contradiction of another’s beliefs, it’s a survival tool that leaves a healthy gap between what someone is telling us and what we ultimately believe ourselves. Developing a strong BS filter is a survival tool. It doesn’t come from books, but from street smarts. We must build our foundations on something solid, or the very structure of our lives—the stories we tell ourselves are true—will crumble one day.

      To pass from this world still believing a lie isn’t the worst way to go. It’s far worse getting to our deathbed and finding out that it was cockatoo all along, told to keep us in line. History is full of such lies disguised as truth. A little skeptical curiosity goes a long way towards finding the real truth. The question is, do we really want to know it, or would we prefer to just drink the Kool-Aid and hope that everything will turn out fine in the end? Give me the clarity of knowing over the haze of belief. Trust, but verify.

    • A Day at The Met

      The first thing you learn when you spend a day at The Metropolitan Museum of Art is that a day is comically not nearly enough time to see everything. A year at The Met might do. And be sure to capitalize that T in “The” because the official name is what it is and details matter. In matters of affectionate familiarity, it’s perfectly fine to simply call it The Met.

      Comic or not, I had one random Thursday for a Met marathon. The only thing to do is to get to it—to meander through the maze of exhibits, to see, to linger on art that whispers for you to be with it for a moment, to eavesdrop on tour guides as they drop insight on what seemed randomness a moment before, to gawk at the famous and smile at the packs of teenagers giggling about the lack of fig leaves, and to move relentlessly through as much of the collection as time and mental capacity allows. As with all things, we hope to return again one day and pick up where we left off. Like that expression about the river, we will have changed in the interim, and everything we see will seem different with that new perspective.

      Claude Monet, "Bouquet of Sunflowers", 1881
      Claude Monet, “Bouquet of Sunflowers”, 1881
      Marie Denise Villers, Marie Joséphine Charlotte du Val d'Ognes (1786-1868), 1801
      Marie Denise Villers, Marie Joséphine Charlotte du Val d’Ognes (1786-1868), 1801
      Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux, Why Born Enslaved!
      Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux, Why Born Enslaved!
      Claude Monet, "Bridge over a Pond of Water Lilies", 1899
      Claude Monet, “Bridge over a Pond of Water Lilies”, 1899
      August Rodin, "Beside the Sea", 1907
      August Rodin, “Beside the Sea”, 1907
      William Bouguereau, "Breton Brother and Sister", 1871
      William Bouguereau, “Breton Brother and Sister”, 1871
      Vincent van Gogh, "Wheat Field with Cypresses", 1889
      Vincent van Gogh, “Wheat Field with Cypresses”, 1889
      Bronze statuette of a satyr with a torch and wineskin
      Bronze statuette of a satyr with a torch and wineskin
      Foreground: Finial for a ceremonial house, Sawos artist; Kaimbiam village, Middle Sepik River, Papua New Guinea Background: Finials from Ambrym Island artists; Fanla village, Vanuatu
      Foreground: Finial for a ceremonial house, Sawos artist; Kaimbiam village, Middle Sepik River, Papua New Guinea
      Background: Finials from Ambrym Island artists; Fanla village, Vanuatu
      Drum Possibly Babungo/Vengo people Cameroon, ca. 1940
      Drum
      Possibly Babungo/Vengo people
      Cameroon, ca. 1940
      Arms and Armor Room from above
      Arms and Armor Room from above
      Frans Hals, "The Smoker", ca. 1623-1625
      Frans Hals, “The Smoker”, ca. 1623-1625
      Pablo Picasso, "The Blind Man's Meal", 1903
      Pablo Picasso, “The Blind Man’s Meal”, 1903
      Death German, mid-17th century Lindenwood with traces of pigment, spruce base
      Death
      German, mid-17th century
      Lindenwood with traces of pigment, spruce base
      Auguste Rodin, "The Burghers of Calais"
      Auguste Rodin, “The Burghers of Calais”
      Jean Antoine Houdon, "Winter", 1787
      Jean Antoine Houdon, “Winter”, 1787
      Fireplace Surround Attributed to Désiré Muller, ca. 1900
      Fireplace Surround
      Attributed to Désiré Muller, ca. 1900
      Harriet Whitney Frishmuth, "The Vine", 1921 (this cast 1924)
      Harriet Whitney Frishmuth, “The Vine”, 1921 (this cast 1924)
      Antonio Canova, "Perseus with the Head of Medusa", 1804-6
      Antonio Canova, “Perseus with the Head of Medusa”, 1804-6
      Camillo Pistrucci, "Mary Shelley", 1843
      Camillo Pistrucci, “Mary Shelley”, 1843
      Émile-Antoine Bourdelle, "Herakles the Archer", 1909
      Émile-Antoine Bourdelle, “Herakles the Archer”, 1909
      Body Mask Asmat artist; Ambisu, Ajip River, Casuarina Coast, West Papua
      Body Mask
      Asmat artist; Ambisu, Ajip River, Casuarina Coast, West Papua
      Bronze helmet of the Illyrian type Greek, late 6th-early 5th century, B.C.
      Bronze helmet of the Illyrian type
      Greek, late 6th-early 5th century, B.C.
      Mechanical Table Workshop of David Roentgen, ca. 1780-90
      Mechanical Table
      Workshop of David Roentgen, ca. 1780-90
      Jean-Basptiste Carpeaux, "Ugolino and His Sons", 1865-67
      Jean-Basptiste Carpeaux, “Ugolino and His Sons”, 1865-67
      Augustus Saint-Gaudens, "Hiawatha", 1874
      Augustus Saint-Gaudens, “Hiawatha”, 1874
      Asmat artist, Yamas village, West Papua Wuramon (spirit canoe)
      Asmat artist, Yamas village, West Papua
      Wuramon (spirit canoe)
      Bronze ornament from a chariot pole Head of Medusa Roman, 1st-2nd century A.D.
      Bronze ornament from a chariot pole
      Head of Medusa
      Roman, 1st-2nd century A.D.

    • The JFK Memorial, Hyannis

      “I believe it is important that this country sail and not lie still in the harbor.” — John F Kennedy

      When I was a kid, Hyannis, Massachusetts was the place we’d go to walk Main Street and buy some candy. When I got a little older it was the place to hang out with college friends or to catch a ferry to Nantucket. Hyannis isn’t quaint or quintessential Cape Cod, it’s a bustling village in the town of Barnstable. I practice active-avoidance here the way locals avoid tourist traps anywhere in the world. But I’m not a local, just way too familiar with the place.

      And yet I’d never visited the John F Kennedy Memorial. It’s a quietly-dignified and understated nod to the President who once sailed in the harbor this memorial overlooks. Finding myself with a little time to spare, I fell back on my old habit of seeking out the most interesting and often overlooked places wherever I was at the moment. And this moment brought me to Hyannis.

      I remember having a glimpse of the entrance to the Kennedy Compound from the back of a station wagon as a kid, but to me that’s like watching the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. That’s not for me. Far more interesting is an offseason visit to a quiet memorial to honor the brief, brilliant flame that was JFK.

      The memorial features a fieldstone wall with a placard of JFK. Appropriately, it faces the harbor. There’s a fountain with the quote noted above engraved around it. In the offseason it’s simply a drained pool. I’m sure in summer it’s lively and impressive. But for my purposes, its stillness was appropriate for the somber occasion for the memorial. While it celebrates the life of the man, it also reminds us of all that we missed when he was assassinated that day in Dallas in 1963.

    • 50 Years: SS Edmund Fitzgerald

      Does anyone know where the love of God goes
      When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
      The searchers all say they’d have made Whitefish Bay
      If they’d put 15 more miles behind her
      They might have split up or they might have capsized
      They may have broke deep and took water
      And all that remains is the faces and the names
      Of the wives and the sons and the daughters

      — Gordon Lightfoot, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

      I’d be remiss to let the 50th anniversary of the sinking of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald pass without a mention. It would be a footnote were it not for the Gordon Lightfoot song that made ship and crew immortal, but tell that to the families. We all pass eventually, preferably peacefully in our sleep a long time from now. An abrupt, tragic end was not on anyone’s mind when those 29 men sailed off into history. One wonders what their final moments were like, but what is certain is that all hands were lost and the ship broke in two. It was the final straw for shipping on the Great Lakes, prompting higher safety standards and oversight. And perhaps that is the ultimate legacy of the Edmund Fitzgerald.