How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world That has such people in’t! William Shakespeare, The Tempest (Act 5, Scene 1)
Those are famous lines from Shakespeare made more modernly famous by Aldous Huxley in his dystopian novel Brave New World.
In the play, Miranda has been isolated on an island with her father Prospero, and this is her exclamation as she gets her first excited view of beautiful and wondrous men. (Prospero, who is experienced and has seen a thing or two, warns her about the seeming novelty: “Tis new to thee.”)
“Brave new world” has come to mean progress in things and processes, whether for good or ill. But the Shakespeare quote suggests a more essential point. A new world is about new people, not new things.
Our difficulty is that it is easier to make new things than it is to make or be new people.
The supply of new things appears endless. But as for new and better people, at least in some highly visible and powerful segments, we seem to be moving backwards. Some of that regressing comes from people who piously and hypocritically claim that they are all about being new and better people.
If we want to consider new things the markers of a beautiful and wondrous new world—and some of them are— we should at least balance that with aspiring towards beautiful and wondrous and better people. New things make it easy to forget this, and the newer and more plentiful the things, the easier to forget.
A breeze came and lifted Ole and Trufa in the air, and they soared with the bliss known only by those who have freed themselves and have joined with eternity.
Ole & Trufa: A Story of Two Leaves can be read in Stories for Children by Isaac Bashevis Singer. This Nobel Prize winning author is mostly known for stories and novels for adults. All the stories “for children” can be enjoyed by anyone.
Ole & Trufa is particularly a story for anyone since it is a short and simple tale about death. It is the work of a master storyteller to make the life together of two leaves so moving and their deaths so uplifting, “with the bliss known only by those who have freed themselves and have joined with eternity.”
Ole & Trufa: A Story of Two Leaves by Isaac Bashevis Singer
The forest was large and thickly overgrown with all kinds of leaf-bearing trees. It was in the month of November. Usually it’s cold this time of year and it even happens that it snows, but this November was relatively warm. The nights were cool and windy, but as soon as the sun came out in the mornings, it turned warm. You might have thought it was summer except that the whole forest was strewn with fallen leaves—some yellow as saffron, some red as wine, some the color of gold, and some of mixed color. The leaves had been torn down by the rain, by the wind, some by day, some at night, and they now formed a deep carpet over the forest floor. Although their juices had run dry, the leaves still exuded a pleasant aroma. The sun shone down on them through the living branches, and worms and flies which had somehow survived the autumn storms crawled over them. The space beneath the leaves provided hiding places for crickets, field mice, and many other creatures who sought protection in the earth. The birds that don’t migrate to warmer climates in the winter but stay behind perched on the bare tree limbs. Among them were sparrows—tiny birds, but endowed with much courage and the experience accumulated through thousands of generations. They hopped, twittered, and searched for the food the forest offered this time of year. Many, many insects and worms had perished in recent weeks, but no one mourned their loss. God’s creatures know that death is merely a phase of life. With the coming of spring, the forest would again fill with grasses, green leaves, blossoms, and flowers. The migrating birds would return from far-off lands and locate their abandoned nests. Even if the wind or the rain had disturbed a nest, it could be easily repaired.
On the tip of a tree which had lost all its other leaves, two still remained. One leaf was named Ole and the other, Trufa. Ole and Trufa both hung from one twig. Since they were at the very tip of the tree they received lots of sunlight. For some reason unknown to Ole or Trufa, they had survived all the rains, all the cold nights and winds, and still clung to the tip of the twig. Who knows the reason one leaf falls and another remains? But Ole and Trufa believed the answer lay in the great love they bore each other. Ole was slightly bigger than Trufa and a few days older, but Trufa was prettier and more delicate. One leaf can do little for another when the wind blows, the rain pours, or the hail begins to fall. It even happens in summer that a leaf is torn loose—come autumn and winter nothing can be done. Still, Ole encouraged Trufa at every opportunity. During the worst storms, when the thunder clapped, the lightning flashed, and the wind tore off not only leaves but even whole branches, Ole pleaded with Trufa, “Hang on, Trufa! Hang on with all your might!”
At times during cold and stormy nights, Trufa would complain, “My time has come, Ole, but you hang on!”
“What for?” Ole asked. “Without you, my life is senseless. If you fall, I’ll fall with you.”
“No, Ole, don’t do it! So long as a leaf can stay up it mustn’t let go …”
“It all depends if you stay with me,” Ole replied. “By day I look at you and admire your beauty. At night I sense your fragrance. Be the only leaf on a tree? No, never!”
“Ole, your words are so sweet but they’re not true,” Trufa said. “You know very well that I’m no longer pretty. Look how wrinkled I am! All my juices have dried out and I’m ashamed before the birds. They look at me with such pity. At times it seems to me they’re laughing at how shriveled I’ve become. I’ve lost everything, but one thing is still left me—my love for you.”
“Isn’t that enough? Of all our powers love is the highest, the finest,” Ole said. “So long as we love each other we remain here, and no wind, rain, or storm can destroy us. I’ll tell you something, Trufa—I never loved you as much as I love you now.”
“Why, Ole? Why? I’m all yellow.”
“Who says green is pretty and yellow is not? All colors are equally handsome.”
And just as Ole spoke these words, that which Trufa had feared all these months happened—a wind came up and tore Ole loose from the twig. Trufa began to tremble and flutter until it seemed that she, too, would soon be torn away, but she held fast. She saw Ole fall and sway in the air, and she called to him in leafy language, “Ole! Come back! Ole! Ole!”
But before she could even finish Ole vanished from sight. He blended in with the other leaves on the ground and Trufa was left all alone on the tree.
So long as it was still day, Trufa managed somehow to endure her grief. But when it grew dark and cold and a piercing rain began to fall, she sank into despair. Somehow she felt that the blame for all the leafy misfortunes lay with the tree, the trunk with all its mighty limbs. Leaves fell but the trunk stood tall, thick, and firmly rooted in the ground. No wind, rain, or hail could upset it. What did it matter to a tree which probably lived forever what became of a leaf? To Trufa, the trunk was a kind of God. It covered itself with leaves for a few months, then it shook them off. It nourished them with its sap for as long as it pleased, then it let them die of thirst. Trufa pleaded with the tree to give her back her Ole and to make it summer again, but the tree didn’t heed, or refused to heed, her prayers …
Trufa didn’t think a night could be so long as this one—so dark, so frosty. She spoke to Ole and hoped for an answer, but Ole was silent and gave no sign of his presence.
Trufa said to the tree, “Since you’ve taken Ole from me, take me, too.”
But the tree didn’t acknowledge even this prayer.
After a while, Trufa dozed off. This wasn’t sleep but a strange languor. Trufa awoke and to her amazement found that she was no longer hanging on the tree. The wind had blown her down while she was asleep. This was different from the way she used to feel when she awoke on the tree with the sunrise. All her fears and anxieties had now vanished. The awakening also brought with it an awareness she had never felt before. She knew now that she wasn’t just a leaf that depended on every whim of the wind, but that she was a part of the universe. She no longer was small or weak or transient, but a part of eternity. Through some mysterious force, Trufa understood the miracle of her molecules, atoms, protons, and electrons—the enormous energy she represented and the divine plan of which she was a part. Next to her lay Ole and they greeted each other with a love they hadn’t been aware of before. This wasn’t a love that depended on chance or caprice, but a love as mighty and eternal as the universe itself. That which they had feared all the days and nights between April and November turned out to be not death but redemption. A breeze came and lifted Ole and Trufa in the air, and they soared with the bliss known only by those who have freed themselves and have joined with eternity.
It is easy to describe the current American president and his presidency as unprecedented in a number of negative ways. His version of a special 4th of July this weekend can be seen as more glaring evidence of that.
But consider another radical possibility.
What if this president is actually a supreme political performance artist? What if his presidency is a groundbreaking art project, rather than simply a reflection of his own infirmities for the office?
Proposed here is the possibility that he is just such an artist, a surrealist. In his own terms, the greatest artist ever in history.
The post below was published in 2017. Then as now, American veterans still struggle to get the regard and reward they deserve for their service. The good news is that even more veterans than back then are in Congress (though not the White House). More good news is that Arizona State University has established the first degree program in Veterans Studies:
The Bachelor of Arts program in applied military and veteran studies is the nation’s first interdisciplinary program that provides you with a comprehensive understanding of the military’s role in society, and the experience and culture of veterans. The curriculum covers various aspects of military studies, including the historical and societal impacts of conflict and the personal experiences of veterans in media, literature, employment and leadership. You obtain transferable skills in leadership, critical thinking, resiliency, adaptability and transparent communication.
When you hear politicians praising our veterans–“Thank you for your service and sacrifice”–ask what they are actually doing for them and be prepared to say “Not enough”. While you’re at it, ask what they are doing to promote defense and peace, not war, so that those who serve are put in harm’s only when necessary and unavoidable.
Here is that earlier post from 2017:
This began with a simple thought: The use of veterans as a political prop is about as immoral as the failure as a nation to fully and properly honor their service beyond politically expedient lip-service.
I wondered just how seriously we take veterans, and whether they have yet received the same sort of academic attention that practically every other cultural and social cohort has. The answer is that it is just starting, and that is a good thing.
Travis L. Martin, founding director of the Kentucky Center for Veterans Studies at Eastern Kentucky University, writes:
My goal is to inform people of the importance and feasibility of establishing “Veterans Studies” as an academic discipline. Below you will hear my story, as well as those of students I’ve taught in Eastern Kentucky University’s Veterans Studies Program. I was a student veteran when I approached faculty and administrators with the idea. And it will take that kind of grass roots activism to get Veterans Studies established as a discipline at institutions across the country….
Why do we need Veterans Studies programs? Well, in 1947, veterans comprised up to 49% of all college students. Professors from that era will tell you stories of makeshift camps and barracks built to accommodate them. In the wake of WW2, the option to pursue higher education helped America avoid a catastrophic influx of unemployed veterans into the job market. School became synonymous with service. However, a rift formed between the military and academia when the anti-war movement found a home on college campuses during the Vietnam War. While veterans have come a long way since then, those returning home from Iraq and Afghanistan still deal with many of the same stereotypes….
The first Women’s Studies program was founded in 1970 at San Diego State. This program sought to undo the stereotypes that held back the advancement of women in society for centuries. Today, there are more than 900 Women’s and Gender Studies programs throughout the world. Likewise, the first program to examine the culture of African Americans originated at San Francisco State in 1968. Today, there are more than 300 programs. Similar stories can be found about programs ranging from Appalachian Studies, to Irish Studies, to Jewish Studies, to programs for about every underrepresented, misunderstood population on the globe. Why are veterans excluded from these initiatives?
This problem is one driven by too much lip-service and not enough action. In 2011, $9.9 billion had already been spent on tuition assistance. Student veterans are big business. While this money is certainly a welcome relief for those institutions of higher learning struggling with low enrollments and government budget cuts, those benefiting do not seem concerned with investing it in long-term initiatives designed to transform the societies in which their veteran graduates live and work….
Veterans Studies is not just about teaching veterans. It is about bringing non-veterans and veterans together at a common center rooted in scholarship. Non-veteran students take my courses to complete “diversity of experience” credits and, if they choose, go on to earn a minor or certificate in a field that prepares them for work within military and veteran communities….
That both veterans and non-veterans take the course is vital. The two groups learn to communicate by framing veteran experience in three key ways: the institutional, cultural, and relational dimensions of Veterans Studies. The institutional portion of the course teaches the students how the different branches function as a hierarchy and together—in the past as well as the present—to keep America safe. The cultural dimension exposes them to works of literature, films, and the typical ways in which veterans are depicted by the media. Finally, in the last portion of the course, students learn about how veterans assimilate into society after taking off the uniform….
Veterans Studies, as it exists in the courses I’ve designed, integrates oral, written, and visual communications skills in projects requiring critical inquiry and research. Students, taking Veterans Studies courses for a variety of professional and personal reasons, must cross disciplinary lines in order to make the first forays into this field. Further, group work, specifically, the kind of group work that asks veteran and non-veteran students to collaborate and produce work relevant to all parties, is foundational in both composition and the future of Veterans Studies….
Schools benefiting financially from the sacrifices of service men and women have a responsibility to create veteran-friendly environments and produce graduates capable of interacting respectfully and knowledgeable about veterans issues in the workplace and their day-to-day lives. The time has come for Veterans Studies Programs to claim their rightful places within the walls of academia.
A splendidly set and provisioned table can be lovely and satisfying, especially when you’re hungry and there is a great cook at work.
But there is also a simple table, before anything has been laid on it, before the bowls and platters have been brought from the kitchen. Or the same table after it has been cleared.
Which is why we might appreciate those religious movements that set a simple table, or try to clear one that has been cluttered, even if the clutter seems beneficial.
Table clearing is a phenomenon among many traditions. Jesus proposed something like it, as did the Baal Shem Tov. Some Christian sects are grounded in it, such as the Shakers. That sort of table clearing is also an essence of Zen. The value of various complex Buddhist movements may not be denied, but in the beginning the Buddha himself tried all that was being offered, and ended up just sitting.
Sit at whichever table suits you, and eat whatever you like from it. But maybe consider the elegant simplicity of the table before it is set, or after it is cleared.
This time of year, the male cicadas emerge to call out to potential mates. They are loud. Loud. So loud that the droning outside can be heard inside. The females may find this appealing. Others may not.
Early in the morning I go out to listen to the birds. Lately the birds are singing with the loud cicada drone almost overwhelming the sound. Imagine going to an orchestra concert and having the person in the next seat talking incessantly on the phone through the entire performance.
Yet the birds keep singing. I keep listening. The cicadas will stop at some time. The birds will still be singing and will keep singing. I will keep listening.
These are some of the oldest stories. People are exiled and journey to an unknown land. People arrive exiled into an unknown land. People are subject to catastrophe, natural or human, that fundamentally changes the land they live in, making it an unknown land. A flood inundates the earth and only a few remain to float and start again. A civilization flees across the desert to start again. The Bible includes the earliest of many stories, especially science fiction, of strangers in strange lands—even when that strange land is their once-familiar home.
There have been a few of these stories in modern times. Weapons, first atomic, then hydrogen, transformed this into a world that might disappear in an instant. A disease infected the world. A technology, artificial intelligence, seems capable of, to use the cliché, changing everything. This is now another strange land.
Our history of dealing as strangers in a strange land, starting with the Bible, is mixed. Early concerns about nuclear weapons—“Ban the bomb” rallies—gave way to dangerous proliferation. The covid pandemic led to welcome emergency scientific vaccine breakthroughs, but also to millions of unnecessary deaths, as some number of people stubbornly refused to believe it was as bad as science said, or bad at all. Arriving in the strange lands of nuclear annihilation or covid, some wanted—still want—to go back to the way things were. They just wanted to go home to a familiar land. We don’t know how we will do in the strange land of AI, though some current indicators are not promising.
In the words of Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter in The Wheel:
The wheel is turning and you can’t slow down You can’t let go and you can’t hold on You can’t go back and you can’t stand still If the thunder don’t get you, then the lightning will
The Buddha said to Todd and Buzz The route is wide and useful Now a bit neglected All things die Even highways Lend me your Vette Then walk down the road To the Blue Swallow Motel Sleep if you must But be sure To wake up
This year is the centennial of Route 66. Whether that is more or less significant than the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence is something to consider. We can speculate about which of the freewheeling founders would have reveled in rolling across the continent they could only dream of in a vehicle they could only dream of.
Route 66 is a once great American highway passed over by the Interstates, but not surpassed. Some motels and other businesses catering to travelers are gone. The Blue Swallow Motel remains, and is not mere nostalgia. It is a place that allows the past to be present, not because the past is better but because it is different.
Todd and Buzz are also past, heroes of the 1960s TV show Route 66, in which they drove around the country in their Corvette, having dramatic American adventures.
The Buddha is the Buddha, never in Tucumcari, never drove a Corvette, though the route is the way.
“Pope Leo, his papal predecessors and his contemporary brethren are calling for returning to Christian roots, with one simple concept: War is fundamentally antithetical to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.”
I am adding a short opinion piece in the New York Times, It’s Time to Put This Catholic Teaching to Rest, by James Grimaldi, former executive editor of The National Catholic Reporter. The teaching referred to is just war theory. Excerpt follows:
It isn’t every day that a pope calls for an overhaul of a more than 1,000-year-old teaching of the Catholic Church, but that’s exactly what Pope Leo XIV did last month. In his inaugural encyclical, “Magnifica Humanitas,” which was mainly an exploration of how to protect human dignity in the age of artificial intelligence, Leo devoted a brief but critical passage to just war theory.
In a break with a foundational principle of Catholic thought on conflict, Leo called the theory “outdated” and made it clear that the teaching has been twisted to justify wars for decades, most recently the war in Iran. It is about time for the change.
Just war theory holds that wars must meet strict conditions: They should be in self-defense, and only if alternatives have been exhausted; the use of force should be proportional; there should be a likelihood of success and the threat should be imminent. Since World War II at least, several popes have criticized world leaders for using the theory as a fig leaf.
While Leo did not cite any specific war in the encyclical, he clearly had President Trump’s war on Iran in mind. On June 6, in remarks en route to Madrid for a visit, he was asked if a “just war” was being waged in Iran. The pontiff replied: “I believe this has already been made very clear: In Iran, the criteria for a just war are not present.” Leo wasn’t done. “The theory of the just war dates back to centuries when it was impossible to imagine the weapons and the destructive capacity available to humanity today,” he added….
In casting doubt on the usefulness of just war teaching in the modern era, Leo’s encyclical preserved “the right to self-defense in the strictest sense.” Instead of suggesting a new framework for justifying war, Leo all but rules out war’s legitimacy. “Humanity possesses far more effective and capable tools for promoting human life and resolving conflicts, such as dialogue, diplomacy and forgiveness,” Leo wrote. “The use of force, violence and weapons reflects a relational poverty that always has disastrous consequences for civilian populations.”
Overhauling just war teaching will be among the top issues to be discussed on Friday and Saturday at a consistory, or meeting of the pope’s cardinals, at the Vatican, according to Vatican News, the Holy See’s official outlet. The cardinals should not pull their punches. The moment urgently calls for new guidance, not just discussion. In reformulating the church’s view of war, the stakes for Catholicism, the United States and the world are high, and the Vatican needs to get this right. The universal church, with millenniums of moral reasoning and clergy on the ground in virtually every conflict zone, is uniquely situated to articulate a new intellectual framework on just war theory — especially as A.I. increasingly automates decisions on the battlefield.
The answer is deceptively simple. Leo, his papal predecessors and his contemporary brethren are calling for returning to Christian roots, with one simple concept: War is fundamentally antithetical to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Bob Schwartz 