As they walked into the large conference room, they saw the alien standing in the middle of the room. It was about seven feet tall and about 3 feet in diameter. The alien had what looked like four branches coming off a main trunk and four branches upon which the main trunk was balancing. The bottom branches were probably legs and the top branches were waving in the air and might have been arms. No head was apparent on the alien and it was impossible to tell if it had any particular gender.
The color of its trunk was somewhere between blue and green as its hues ebbed and flowed. One minute it looked blue and the next minute it looked green. The most striking feature of all was in the middle of its trunk about five feet above the floor. It had a large round eye about 9 inches in diameter. There was no mistaking it as an eye since it included a large red pupil, a green cornea, and a yellow sclera. The pupil was about two inches wide and the cornea was about four inches wide. The eye seemed to follow every movement in the room and when you looked at it, the alien seemed to be able to look right through you as though it was reading your mind.
I was surrounded by news reporters, army officers, soldiers with guns at rest and what were obviously many government officials. This was what the human race had been waiting for. An alien had been captured and was going to speak to the world. I had been brought to this well guarded room in Washington D.C. after I had agreed to speak about my purpose in visiting a planet they called Earth. The major tv networks had all been alerted and were on deck to broadcast whatever the I had to say to the entire world. News reports said over two billion people had found some way to listen to my talk.
I calmly surveyed the inhabitants of this room who were only a small part of the inhabitants of this planet. I had been surveying them for 100,000 years but they were not aware of this fact. They soon would be. I looked out over the gathering with some amusement. Shichak is the name that I chose to use with these humans. They would never have been able to pronounce my real name. But my name is unimportant. What is important is what I have to say to the inhabitants of Earth. At my other visits to Earth, I always observed for some weeks than returned to my home planet. This time I did not fly away. My captors did not realize it, but I came to this room entirely voluntarily. I could have destroyed all of them and a great deal of their planet with a single twist of my antenna. I chose to stay until I had delivered my message.
My spacecraft which could travel at warp drive speeds between the galaxies had encountered some minor difficulties. I had intended to land briefly and repair the ship. After landing in a remote area of Utah, my ship had been seen by a local paramilitary group which surrounded the space craft. They threatened to open fire with some high-powered projectiles unless I came out of the craft. Years earlier I would have ignored them, but I sensed that the weapons they had could do some serious damage to my ship. I had been seen many times before, but I had quickly opened an invisibility cloak and returned to space. This time would be different. After making my decision, I left the vessel to deliver a message to this species that I was certain would surprise and astound them.
In less than 24 hours, my captors had taken me from the Utah forest to a police station in Monroe, Utah, to a government office in Provo, Utah and to an Army base in Bluffdale, Utah. It was not only my appearance which surprised all who met me but even more surprising to them was the fact that I spoke perfect English. I have the ability to speak the language fluently of any species on the planet Earth or any other planet in the universe.
At each site that I was taken to, I indicated that I would only talk to the President of the United States of America. Finally, I was put under heavy guard and taken in a military cargo plane to Washington D.C. During my trip, I had been passed up the line from privates to colonels to generals to Army secretaries and finally to this room where the President of the United States of America and the rest of the world waited to hear what I had to say.
It was time to speak. The President had arrived with his staff and were seated. I made some bugle like sounds to get everyone’s attention. They were quite surprised but quieted right down.
I spoke, “I did not come to your planet on a mission of peace. Neither did I come on a mission of aggression. I come as an observer. I have been observing you for nearly 100,000 years. I have made many trips to your planet. Several times in the past, my ship has been spotted by your people. One other time, I was forced to land and effect some repairs. My ships have varied in size and shape from ovoid to saucer shaped.”
“I come from a planet my people call Zanist. It is 7,000 light years away in another galaxy. Our planet is over twenty billion years old. Our people refer to themselves as Zanes. As you calculate your lifespan, the average life of a Zane is about 200,000 earth years.”
“The sun that heats our solar system is dying. It has been dying for many years. We developed interstellar travel capabilities nearly a million years ago. When we realized that our planet was doomed, our leaders decided that we should seek out another planet to inhabit. Many scouts were sent out to find a new home for our people. I found your planet over 100,000 years ago. It was perfect for us except for the fact that a new species was quickly evolving, and you were that species. We were not sure whether you would survive. Many other species on your planet have rose up only to disappear in a few centuries.”
“We have what you would call a prime directive. We do not interfere with the development of a sentient species. Many on our planet were not sure that humans were sentient. It was evident from early observations that you were brutal and cruel to other species as well as each other. Nevertheless, our ethics prevented us from interfering with your development.”
“I was selected to monitor your planet in the event that you did not survive or that you annihilated yourselves. This latter possibility seemed the most likely given your aggressive tendencies. I returned after the ice age to find that you had managed to survive. I watched many battles over the years where I thought you might destroy each other: the Three Kingdom Wars, the Mongolian Wars, the European Wars and two World Wars.”
“Finally, with your development of nuclear weapons, we were sure that you would self-annihilate. We were quite surprised when you did not. With my observations on this latest visit, I think it might be close to the end for your species. Your current disasters due to your destruction of your environment, global warming, and climate change will be your death knell. Your planet will survive but your species will probably not. I take no joy in this observation. My role is simply to observe and to report when your planet will be ready for us to occupy.”
“We will be able to fix your planet and return it to its former healthy state. We could tell you how to do this, but it would be a waste of time. It is apparent that you understand what you need to do but you lack the desire or will power to do it.”
“That is all I have to say. I am returning to my planet.”
As I spoke these words, I observed one of the military people talking to several of his subordinates. I could read his mind and see that he was intent on preventing me from leaving. It was his intention to place me in some sort of a cell.
“You have taken my space craft to one of your many military bases. Some of you wish to stop me from leaving. That is impossible. I have no desire to harm any of you. I have already repaired my vessel and it is back in orbit. I will go to my ship. Perhaps you will see me again in the future if you survive. I doubt it. Goodbye.”
“Beam me up Scotty.” A little phrase I learned from my visits to the planet Earth.
The alien’s colors gave off a burst of blinding light forcing all the participants to close their eyes. When the gathering opened their eyes, the alien was gone. A grave like silence blanketed the room. Reporters, government officials, military people and the President of the United States of America were all speechless. The first words that everyone at the gathering heard were, “Does anyone know what’s for lunch?”
When I grew up, the only art in our house was an Elvis on velvet painting that my mother had hanging over the living room sofa. We also had a wooden ship with metal sails and a clock that did not work built into the side of the ship. It was featured prominently on the mantle over our fake fireplace. Our furniture would have done the Salvation Army proud. I do not remember any other art besides Elvis displayed on our walls, floors, or ceilings. Neither my father or mother had any interest in art. My mother liked Elvis and that is why she got the painting. 
When I think back upon my schooling, I do not recall ever having had a single class in art appreciation. We would occasionally go on field trips but usually to a library or a science museum. No one in my schools acknowledged the world of art. For blue collar kids like myself, the world of art had little relevance or practical use. Everyone knew that artists died poor. The great Van Gogh sold only one picture in his lifetime and that to a relative. The purchase of art was for the rich, spoiled, eccentric scions of old aristocratic families with more money than they knew what to do with. 
When Karen and I first moved down to Arizona, we took a day to go and visit Scottsdale. Scottsdale is a wealthy upper-class community. Scottsdale is generally considered the most affluent large city in Arizona. The average income of a Scottsdale resident is $51,564 a year. The US average is $28,555 a year. According to Zillow.com, the typical price of a home in Scottsdale is $582,292. We walked around the downtown portion of Scottsdale and expected to see the usual mix of clothing stores, jewelry shops, antique shops, and restaurants. We were not surprised except when it came to the antique shops. 
Art reflects the beauty that life holds. Paintings portray ideals and impressions that intrigue and magnify the senses. Sculptures mirror the objects in our world that mystify us or that remind us of magnificent events. Pictures bring us to other places and times that would be forgotten without the images the photographer captures. Art does not attempt to simply mirror reality; it attempts to augment and enhance reality. Art can be a caricature which like a Rorschach text enables us to see many different visions. Art is a realization of values, norms, pain, happiness, the past, the present and the future. Art can simultaneously create fantasy and reality.
You may be rightly thinking, “But what good does art do me if I cannot afford to even walk into an art shop?” I often asked myself this same question. Why look at stuff that I could not afford? It took me years before I even ventured into an art museum. I have since visited the Louvre while in Paris and many other museums in the USA and in Europe. My attitude is now one of gratefulness that someone has purchased these magnificent works of art to share with the public. The vast majority of us could never begin to afford the pricelessness of these museum pieces. I strongly encourage you to visit an art museum sometime. 
When it comes to art that I would like to own, it is simply a matter of what I can afford. The art world is full of overpriced works of art. Many would rebel at my labeling art this way. My critics would say that it was high priced and not “over” priced. That may well be. I have talked to a number of artists and the vast majority do not get paid for the value of their efforts and creativity. However, just like in athletics, a few stand out and are disproportionally rewarded for their efforts. 
This type of courage is the most obvious and perhaps least subtle. The mountain climber, the motorcycle racer, the football player, the sky diver all display what to some of us would seem to be a reckless disregard for life. Each of these individuals risk life and limb for either fame, fortune, fun or to achieve some goal. Often money is the least of their motivations for risking their lives. These people do things that leave most of us awestruck but also inspired. We watch their events on TV, in the movies and at live shows. We never fail to be impressed by the exploits and daring do that such individuals undertake. Risk is the hallmark of their efforts and we note that many of them pay for their risky behaviors. Death is an ever present companion for these people. Somehow though, they rise above the fears that chain the rest of us to the TV and they are out there doing what many of us only do in our dreams.
What do you do when someone tells you that your ideas are stupid and that you will never amount to anything? If you are like most of us, you give up and go on to something else. The person with intellectual courage though is different from the rest of us. They don’t give up on their ideas. They plod forward in the face of distain, insults and criticism. Many times they are dead and buried before the value of their ideas are recognized. Darwin, Mendel, Pasteur and Copernicus were all ridiculed and ostracized for many years before their ideas were accepted. Socrates was executed for his ideas. Indeed, here is what Socrates said at his trial:
I have a good friend of mine who will not go to funerals. They make him feel very sad and he tries to avoid such feelings. No one of us likes to feel sad. It takes a kind of courage to go to a funeral. What do you say at a funeral to the friends and relatives of the departed one? How do you act? What if you did not know the person very well? There are many ways to feel embarrassed or like a fish out of water at a funeral. Easier to stay home then go. But it takes a certain kind of courage to deal with emotional risk. Any courage is difficult because of the risk. Emotional risk entails looking stupid, feeling stupid or having to deal with difficult feelings. A person with emotional courage confronts these situations with a degree of bravery and élan that escapes many of us.
One of the greatest fears that many people have is called “stage fright” or fear of public speaking. Many professional speakers and actors/actresses feel significant stage fright. Actress Carol Burnett was so nervous that she threw up before many of her performances. Most of us would never think of getting up on a stage. I know that people call it stage fright, but it is not really about the stage, it is really about us. Who wants to look stupid and particularly in front of hundreds or people? It takes emotional courage to deal with life. All of us have it, but we often choose not to exercise it. We simply spend our lives trying to avoid situations that might make us look dumb or embarrass ourselves. The people with emotional courage deal with these situations and take the risk that the rest of us hide from.
The world is full of examples of moral courage. However, to my way of thinking, the amount of moral cowardice far outweighs the shining examples of moral courage. The number of Martin Luther Kings, Gandhis, Mandelas, Parks, Kellers and Kyis are dwarfed by the number of moral cowards who turn the quote I noted above around. These are the people who when in the majority would tyrannize the minorities. They are the moral cowards who use their positions to foster hatred and bigotry and intolerance towards the disadvantaged and weak. They prey on the sick and 
hungry and would deny benefits or help to anyone who is not a member of their tribe or affiliation. They go through life pretending to be good people and deluding themselves that they are.
Nevertheless, in the face of all this iniquity, the majority of humankind has a spiritual courage that defies logic. The majority of people want to do good for the world. The majority of people are good and most people try to leave the world a better place then they found it. This is truly an amazing observation. More people are spiritual heroes than not. Every day those who have the courage and strength to get out of bed and to start a new day show a sense of spiritual courage. It would be easier to hide and to do nothing then to face the daily rigors of life on our planet. Yet, that is what the majority of people do each day. They get out of bed. They go to work. They volunteer. They innovate and create. They campaign for their ideals. They build. They love. They pay taxes. They die. And the cycle starts all over again for the next generation.
One day a young student came to me and complained that he felt that his rights had been violated. At the time, I took any students complaints very seriously particularly when it concerned rights. I listened to his problem and asked him what he wanted me to do about it. He asked if I would intercede on his behalf with Sister Giovanni, who was our principal. I wanted to show the young man that I was concerned and caring and so I agreed to carry his problem to Sister G as she was known. She was feared and loved by almost all students so it did not surprise me that he thought I might have more luck with Sister G than he would have. 
I went to Sister G’s office and knocked on her door. She opened it and welcomed me in. We exchanged some pleasantries and she asked me what I needed. I began to explain the issue that the student had brought to me. Sister G listened attentively. When I was done, she smiled and nodded reassuringly. I thought “Great, I have been successful.” She then spoke, “This is your first year teaching right John?” “Yes, it is,” I answered. “Well, I have heard the issue and I may address it later, but I want to give you an important piece of advice now. Students just like the majority of people will always demand their rights, but they seldom demand their responsibilities.” Then, she gave me the philosophy that I have never forgotten. “John,” she continued, “for every right there is always a responsibility.” That was the end of our discussion.
What is the solution to the problem that we are facing today? A poisonous cultural stew of narcissism and entitlement driven by a rights only oriented mentality that thinks they are above responsibilities. I have reached the point in this essay where it would be easy to say, “Sorry, I don’t have the answer.” Or else, I could now list several bromides which may or may not have much effect. I have the following solution which I believe in 100 percent. I doubt that it would be acceptable to Americans as too many people have grown privileged, lazy, and indulgent in this country. 
My solution is for a National Required Service (NRS) that starts at the age of 18 for every man and woman in America. Upon finishing high school and before starting college, every American would need to attend the National Required Service. They would have two options. The first option would be to choose between a two-year service or a four-year service. A two-year service would be the minimum. The advantage of a longer service would lie in the educational benefits that would accrue. Serve two years and you would receive two years of financial credit towards any public education institution of your choice in the country including vocational education as well as liberal arts. Choose a four-year tour of service and you would receive four years of financial credit towards the public institution of your desire.
Faith is number five of my seven essential virtues for leading a happy and successful life. Every Friday I start my day with the following prayer:
I decided that I must first understand what Faith really means. To do this, it is helpful to deconstruct how we think about Faith and how we use the word. I thought about how we use both Trust and Faith in common language. For instance we use trust in English as follows:
I think you can readily see that there is a certain degree of overlap between the two concepts. However, Faith generally seems to convey a more sectarian or theological concept of belief whereas Trust is generally used in more secular terms. Thus, we don’t “trust” God but we have Faith in her. Faith seems to be a term that is not contingent upon any kind of physical or logical proof. We might not trust a person with our money without proof that they are “bonded” or trustworthy, but we would not expect such displays of material evidence when it comes to having Faith in God. So what is the relevance to this in our lives? What good is Faith if we can substitute trust for faith and have more security in the long run?
The answer seems to be (IMHO) that sometimes we can trust without evidence but generally we are better off trusting with some element of surety that can mitigate the risk of our trust being unfounded or mistaken. Whereas, there is little or no evidence that can prove your need or desire to have Faith. You must have Faith like a parent has love for a child. It is unconditional. You have Faith simply because you want to believe. You have Faith because you accept something without conditions. You need no proof or evidence to support your Faith. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Should you have Faith without proof? What would a life without Faith be like? Would we be safer or happier with less Faith?
Fortunately, the 3.4 percent of respondents have been more than enough to help me keep my Faith. (Should I really need such sustenance if I have Faith?) Yes, I have Faith that my writing is making a difference to the world but alas, I have no proof for the empiricists, the materialists or the skeptics. I have to ask you as well as myself to believe that I am. It is Faith that keeps me motivated. Without Faith, life would appear to be a futile waste of time. Faith helps us to carry on when everything and everyone is saying to quit. The woman in the life raft, the athlete with a severe injury, the parents with a disabled child, the poor fighting hunger, the righteous fighting injustice are all sustained by the power of Faith.
Faith can believe everything
Kindness is number four of my seven essential virtues for leading a happy and successful life. Every Thursday I start my day with the following prayer:
There were few heroes when I was growing up who could measure up to my standards for clear and unemotional thinking. I grew up with a father who demanded toughness. My father’s motto was not to “get even” but to “get one up.” If someone hit me, he taught me to make sure that they would never think of hitting me again. My father was 6’ 4” tall and had been a professional boxer with a 21 and 3 record. He taught me fighting skills at a very young age. My neighborhood taught me to disregard the “rules of boxing” and to fight with whatever I had to win. I could easily protect myself and few people would bother me. Somehow, I became a protector for those kids who were less aggressive and who were picked on by the ever pervasive bullies. I kicked more bullies asses then I can count. I was always proud to help the underdog. Paradoxically, these traits did not make me more compassionate but made me harder and tougher.
Through hardness and toughness I began to forge a wall that nothing could get through. Sentiments, compassion and empathy were increasingly blocked out by my need to be tough and to not take any shit from anyone in the world. Each episode where toughness prevailed was another brick that helped to build my wall higher and higher. I never thought I would get married but after getting my first wife pregnant, I “did the right thing” and married her. It was the manly thing to do. My dad had always taught me to take responsibility for my actions and my baby Chris was a direct result of my actions.
One day we were in a grocery store just before Christmas. An apparently legless man pushing himself along on some kind of a wheeled board was inside the grocery looking for some money. I walked by him with Julie (my first wife) and ignored him. My wife turned back and started to give him some money and I said: “Shit, don’t give him any money, he can probably outrun me. I will bet he is just a fakir.” She gave him the money anyway and replied “What if he is not?” I never forgot that comment. I am not sure why my first wife married me. She once said that she thought all people had feelings and emotions until she married me. We subsequently divorced but I have to say that I probably owe my life to my first wife. She cared for me when I was suicidal and she always looked after me when I was hurt or needed help. Through her, I began to see what compassion and kindness were. This journey has continued with my second wife Karen who is one of the most considerate and most compassionate spouses anyone could have. Every day I learn something about kindness from her.
I disagree with Shaw. I am getting older and I still respect and uphold the values of our Founding Fathers, but I refuse to live in a gated community or allow a homeowner’s association to tell me what color holiday lights to put up. I am not a believer in mincing words but I respect the rights of minorities and anyone else to be referred to as they want to be referred to. I respect the rights of Indians to have their ancestor’s graveyards not dug up for commercial or even academic reasons and I respect their rights not to be depicted as silly mascots for some college team. Trump and his supporters believe the US has become too PC. They blame minorities for this. They would like to live in a land where it is ok to call a Black person a nigger since we call Italians wops and French frogs. A Black person they argue has a double standard or they apply a double standard for Blacks and Whites. The bottom line of all this double talk is not too much PC but a lack of empathy and compassion and kindness towards others.
Yes, there are extremists who want to take Huckleberry Finn out of the library just like there were Popes that knocked the genitals off of statues in Rome. But if you have any empathy or even the slightest understanding of culture and history, you will be less apt to say “My father didn’t own any slaves.” That is a little like replying to a woman who was raped “Well, I did not do it.” To which I can now hear someone replying, “Yes, but no Black people alive today were slaves, so why should they be so upset?” Yes indeed, why should they be so upset? If you are serious about looking at a reason, please regard the following article:
The people that we will remember in our lives and who make the most impact on our lives are not the rich and famous. They are the people who most cared about us and looked after us. They were kind and loving towards us and somehow showed that we meant something to them and to the world. They may have been our fathers or mothers or an aunt or teacher or perhaps a close friend. How much money they had or how successful they were did not make a difference to us. Indeed, what they gave us could not have been purchased by money. Money doesn’t touch us but kindness does.
You may have noticed that many great leaders seem to have had a sort of doppelganger or one who directly opposes their strategies and methods. Martin Luther King had Malcolm X. Sun Yat-sen had Zhang Binglin. Nelson Mandela had Steve Biko.
Memories of the atrocities committed by the British in the 1857 uprising were still prevalent among the Indian population. There were atrocities on both sides, but even after the war was concluded, the British engaged in a number of substantial revenge and retribution attacks against the Indians suspected or known to have supported the uprising.
Perhaps Bose saw the writing on the wall. He is warning his supporters that they may “not see the promised land.” The promised land being independence for India. Nevertheless, they should remain committed to the effort.
