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War is People

There’s something uniquely moving about the Korean War Veterans Memorial. The focal point is a series of nineteen stainless steel soldiers, in rain gear, moving through the muck.

That’s it. That’s all it is. No big, granite arches*, no marble columns, no big, bold, brash, sweeping landscapes. Just nineteen men, nameless men, marching through the slop, hoping to survive to get to the other side. To me, this monument is a stern reminder:

War isn’t about guns.

War isn’t about tanks.

It’s not about bombs or bullets or planes or ships. It’s not about politics or economies or resources or vendettas.

War is about people: the people who march, the people who fight, the people who hide, the people who flee, the people who live … and the people who die.

* I visited the site in 1998. A memorial wall was added in 2022, listing the names of Americans who died in the war, I have yet to see it at the time of this posting.

(I did not have a digital camera when I visited this site in 1998, the above picture is from the Department of Defense.)

Gone

Another tiny little site, out in the middle of nowhere. A small slice of land, barely four square miles, preserving a few reconstructed mud huts and a view of a minor Missouri River tributary. Fit for the occasional grammar school field trip and not much else.

Through all the denialism around environmental degradation and global warming, I’ve become convinced the human soul is incapable of understanding the concept of absence. We are quite capable of observing the world around us. We can see the moon and the stars and the distant mountains and the dandelions at our feet. We can see what we have, are enthralled by what the other guy has, and are intrigued by what might be hiding behind that mountain over yonder. What we can’t contemplate is what isn’t there. We can’t lament the old-growth forests of New England, because we’ve never seen one. They’ve been gone for decades, or even centuries. They’re not here, so we don’t miss them. Nobody cares that they’re gone.

A couple decades ago, there were a series of logging protests in Idaho, Oregon, and Washington. The locals were furious that a bunch of East Coast types flew out there to chain themselves to old-growth trees and interrupt logging. I can understand why they’d be pissed off. I would be pretty angry if some guy flew 1000 miles to get in my grill because I drove a foreign car or was an avowed atheist. But the folks of Idaho should understand something as well: we don’t have old growth forests on the East Coast any more. They’re gone. They’ve been gone for at least a hundred years if not two. The eastern United States is a scarred landscape, the result of clearcutting, mountaintop-removal mining, abandoned industrial complexes, sleazy strip malls, and horrid public housing projects. Most of the natural beauty in the east is gone, and gone forever. All we wanted was for the western states to preserve theirs before it, too, is gone.

This same idea applies to the native cultures of the Americas. They’re mostly gone, and those that remain have been scarred by decades and decades of suppression, poverty, extermination, and broken promises. They’re barely recognizable today. But we don’t understand what that really means. Indian reservations have been the way they are our entire lifetime, and for so many generations before us, that we can’t even fathom what native tribal life must have been like in the long, long ago. It’s unfathomable because it’s gone. Gone forever, there’s no bringing it back.

Imagine what life in America would have been if, instead of driving the native populations back and out, our forefathers decided to share the land with them. Would our country have developed any differently? Would we never have connected east-and-west with the Golden Spike? Would there still be American bison on the flatlands of Ohio? Would there be states in the Union with all-Native legislatures and Congressional representatives? What would the U.S. flag look like? What would our architecture look like? What would that great cultural tradition — rock & roll — sound like, infused not just with the minstrel songs of sharecroppers, the folk tunes of Dust Bowl migrants, and the swing of urban jazz, but also with the steady rhythms and chants of the Sioux? Wouldn’t that be kinda cool?

We’ll never know what the impact of Native American culture would have been on this country, on our government, on our society, or on our lives. And we can’t … because it’s gone.

[All pictures on this page are mine and thusly copyrighted.]

Forgotten Stepchild National Park

Poor Kings Canyon. At one point, it had a real patriotic name: General Grant National Park, named not after the Civil War victor, but after the General Grant, the second largest sequoia tree on earth (which is named after the Civil War victor). Back then, in 1890, the park only protected the Grant Grove itself. Decades later, after long battles, the rest of the canyon was protected with National Park status, under the boring moniker Kings Canyon National Park.

Kings Canyon gets no respect. It’s in the heart of California’s Sierra Nevada range, a truly beautiful part of the country, but, unfortunately, it’s sandwiched between two behemoths: Yosemite, with its magnificent valley and El Capitan, to the north, and Sequoia, with its groves of massive trees, to the south. Eventually, the NPS merged Kings Canyon with its southern neighbor, and, like Gracie to George Burns, it got second billing: Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park. But I think that sucks. Kings Canyon deserves to stand alone, as its own National Park.

As usual, I visited Kings Canyon on a big road trip through a slew of National Park Service sites. Yosemite and Sequoia are grand places, to be sure, but they’re also grandly crowded. Yosemite, especially the valley area, were insufferable to drive through. People stopped for every spot of wildlife or beautiful vista, and the light dusting of snow on Day 1, although wonderfully esthetic, only made the drive more miserable. And Sequoia, well, the groves were not only crowded by noisy. All those tourists, yammering on an on. The mansplainers were completely insufferable.

Then I went to poor, disrespected Kings Canyon … and I loved it. Yes, it doesn’t have the grandeur of Yosemite. It doesn’t have the massive sequoia groves. But what it does have are great hikes, hikes where you can be alone if you want to be. I took a valley hike, and I think I only saw one other couple on the trail at all. While everyone else was scrambling for a spot in some scenic pullout, I was doing what I really love: walking in the woods, away from everything.

When you’re on your own tour of the western Sierras, don’t ignore Kings Canyon. It deserves your attention, your respect, and your feet, walking on its trails.

[Pictures on this post are mine and thusly copyrighted]

A Favor to Ask

Folks,

I am asking for a favor. It’s a big favor.

The favor is this: this election season, which may have already started due to early or mail-in voting in your area, please do not vote Republican.

At all.

I’m asking you to not vote for any Republican, on any ballot, for any office – state, county or local – anywhere.

There are only two issues on the table this year. These two issues should form the core values of all Americans. In fact, all people who support, and are fortunate to live in, a free society should embrace these two values, unconditionally. So unconditionally, in fact, that going against these two values should be an automatic disqualification from office.

These two values are:

— We must not normalize political violence, and

— We must protect the right to vote, the means to vote, the counting of votes, and the results of a vote

These two values are paramount in a free society. Without these, you do not have a free society. At best, you have the social veneer of one, with a widening undercurrent of disenfranchisement and, eventually — yeah, I’ll use the word — tyranny.

Some would argue there are more important issues. I’m sure many people are concerned about inflation, that’s a big one. I’m sure some are concerned about the threat of war or crime or a variety of nebulous cultural issues. I’m sure a lot of people are sick of hearing about January 6th or Donald Trump or The Big Lie or what-have-you. Well, that’s too bad, because I am right. Only these two issues matter in this election: rejection of political violence, and free & fair elections.

These issues matter now because an entire political party, arguably representing a third of the voting public, believes these two values *do not matter*. One party, the Republican Party, has condoned and supported political violence; and is intentionally working throughout the entire government to undermine free & fair elections. They have actively recruited and supported Big Lie believers in races for election officials, state’s attorneys, governors, state legislators, and members of Congress throughout the country. This is a concerted and intentional attempt to usurp free and fair elections, all around the country, for the sole purpose of rigging the system to gain power in the future. It’s even being attempted in blue states. 

I’m sure there are some out there who will reject my broad strokes. “Not all Republicans supported the attack on the Capitol.” Yes, that’s true … and those Republicans who have spoken out against it have been drummed out of the party. They’ve been driven into retirement, or been primaried off the ballot. Some have received death threats against themselves and their families. Only those who’ve bent the knee and kissed the ring at Mar-a-Lago remain. The party is tainted, wholly and firmly, and must be ended as an institution.

The bottom line is this: a functioning democracy cannot survive either retributional political violence, or the destruction of free elections. This is how nations die. All throughout history lies the wreckage of states who pulled these stunts: rigged elections; stacked judiciaries; intimidated, imprisoned or even assassinated political opponents, all geared towards the attainment and retention of political power. The result is always a failed state and a miserable populace. Unmarked cemeteries all around the world hold the remains of millions, attesting to the brutal reality, and a potential future, of it all.

I can hear the groans from the audience, and the accusations that I’m grandstanding and exaggerating and it’s “not that bad”. And perhaps yes, it’s not that bad … now. It’s like noticing a single leak in the roof. Do you do the heavy work now to find that one leak and fix it before it becomes a crisis and ruins the whole house, or do you slap on some duct tape and turn up the TV when it rains? 

We cannot, under any circumstances, reward a party, *any* party, who embraces either political violence or the destruction of elections. Do not vote Republican this cycle. Send a clear and concise message that *this is not to be tolerated*. Draw the line here. Force them to change. Then, if and when they do, maybe, just maybe, give them a second chance. If they don’t, then send them to the dust bin of history.

I’ll open the comments. Debate me. But don’t take this lightly. This cycle, vote with seriousness and determination, and send a message.