The Big Boom Still Echoes

While the march toward Islamic extremism may have an ingredient in the Krakatoa explosion, it did not start there.  The plunders and massacres perpetrated by Tamburlaine (sp?) centuries earlier contributed largely to the pattern's beginnings.

In a part of the world that once contained great centers of learning and great aesthetic wonders (hanging gardens, anyone?), one maniac laid waste to entire regions and they never recovered.  Like so many, religion became the one thing that, in the words of Gershwin "They can't take that away from me."  But, while most Christians eventually outgrew the violent streak in their religion (Holy Crusades are no longer smiled upon even by the most devout), many Muslims continue to take their religion seriously, and do not question promises made in the Koran, such as Heavenly rewards for "all who die fighting the infidel".

If the Muslims in the east had been permitted to thrive the same way the Christians in the west have, chances are enormous that their approach to religion would have taken a similar path.  But extremism becomes a crucial "unintended consequence" when someone violates another human being's most fundamental right, the right to be left the hell alone.

The law of Unintended Consequences is always fascinating.  After the Sepoy rebellion in india under Brtitish Rule, there were two consequences of note.  Both inintended.  The first was the removal by Queen Victoria of the the East India company's charter. This effectively ended the merchant control of India.  Unfortunatley, the harder line British  Imperial authorities also ended intermarriage between Anglo men and Indian women. This created divisions among the British and the Indians that set Britain up for ultimate failure.  The multicultural, interracial merchant classes were gone. British Christian missionaries  flooded the Sub-Continent and made sure everything was "back to normal".

Second, the Sepoy rebellion ended in a disaster for Muslims in particular.  Their response was to say "never again". Their answer was the Madrassas: schools that taught fundamentalist Islam.  These schools are a spawning ground for the terrorists of today.

Perhaps the blame for terrorism is the Sepoy Rebellion. And a certain pyroclastic volcanic eruptions.   

Human arrogance and nature are powerful forces.....and when combined together (like Katrina and New Orleans) are folly on a massive scale.

To: DreadPirateRoberts,

I have often wondered what went "wrong" in the Islamic world.  In the Middle Ages up to the Renaissance, the Muslims had a mostly tolerant culture.  Christians and Jews lived in Spain with the Muslims. The Moorish culture would appear to be superior to the Western one at that time.  Medicine, science, mathematics, the preservation and study of Greek philosophy, the travels of Ibn Battuta (more impressive than Marco Polo's), and the intricate architecture, and the peaceful control of most trade bewteen East and West. All lost in the later centuries of madness.

What little inconsequential, random event  will future historians look back on when they study the end of our civilization?  The failure to stop russia from invading Georgia? Iraq? the election of the next President? Illegal immigration? Or some other random event with unintended cosequences?  Or a conscious choice with disastrous consequences unforeseen at the time?

When I was a young college student I had a room-mate that was impressed with the blues licks that I was playing on my guitar. He asked me if I would teach him how to play guitar if he went out and bought one. I wholeheartedly agreed and he bought the guitar and I showed him few chords which he mastered in short time. Soon, I was being kept awake night after night as he practiced away. He quickly graduated to flat picking and one night in particular he kept playing "Under the Double Eagle" over and over and over , as I lay in my bunk gnashing my teeth in constrained rage, epithets flying around my brain. I was suffering with an unintended consequence. It never entered my feeble mind to simply purchase some earplugs. Eventually the student excelled the teacher, and before long he was teaching me music theory and showing me chords I never knew existed. Another unintended consequence, but on a more positive note.

We had a small television set, but poor reception, and this same room-mate, with antennae wire and coat-hanger, climbed to the utmost peak of a very tall pine tree outside our dorm window and secured the system to the top of the tree. We were then able to receive three channels with great clarity. Word got out and he soon discovered pirate antennae wires from other rooms secured to his. My room-mate could see where they were coming from and demanded a token fee from the filchers for use of the line. Being met with disapprobation, contempt, and, in some cases enmity, he returned red faced and disconnected the marauding wires from his own. This worked for about one day, and my room-mate was not pleased to find the freebooters once again secured to his wire. Since Easter vacation began the next Friday he left the wires intact. On Friday, prior to his departure, suitcase standing ready, he unhooked the parasitic wires, wound them together, and while munching on a sausage biscuit, jammed them into the nearest electrical outlet. While not on the scale of Krakatoa, it might as well have been, as sparks flew from the wall, distant popping noises could be heard, all the lights in the dormitory went out, and shortly thereafter came an incessant pounding upon the door. The combinations of these things did little to satisfy his original cravings, or mine. He was being dealt an unintended consequence.

Our lives daily abound with Faustian bargains, and unintended consequences, from automobiles that give us geographical independence, but poison the air, efficient atomic energy that also threatens us with instant nuclear destruction, to the internet, giving us instant information at our fingertips, but at the same time, appalling putrefaction.

One more thing that I learned from my talented room-mate. When the chips are down, and your back is against the wall. DENY EVERYTHING!

ExPat there's a great book by Bernard Lewis with just that title (What Went Wrong? Western Impact and Middle Eastern Response) that attempts to illustrate the forces, like DPR points out, which brought Islamic civilization low, and resulted in lots of blame which ultimately focused on the West and Jews, since Arabs and Persians have concluded that it couldn't be themselves that allowed their great civilization to decay. Anyway, that's the thrust of Lewis' argument. It's been a long time since I read it, but it may be worth a look.

For the Law of Unintended Consequences repeated over and over, you can't beat Howard Zinn's People's History of the United States, just a wonderful book (in my humble estimation) about how all the grand stuff affected the little people, the losers, the ordinary citizens.

I think there's a good chance that future historians will look back and note our foolish dependence on dwindling resources, our irrational clinging to outdated, dangerous technologies for short term gain, as probably not too smart. But, hindsight being 20/20 and all, it's probably inevitable that those cockroach scriveners will get to be smug while we fertilize the daisies. Dang, I need a nap already!

Humans live in a web of complexity and chaos that our minds are simply unequipped to deal with, and 'unintended consequences' are one aspect of that.  Despite our best efforts to live in a 'clockwork world' in which predictable results flow from good planning and competent execution, lots of people have learned 'it ain't that way':  marriages blow up, wars drag in innocent parties, innovations kill patients, and so on.  For those willing to drop their screens, reading James Gleick's Chaos isn't a bad place to start.  Then there's Benoit Mandelbrot's 1982 classic The Fractal Geometry of Nature, a real treat for minds willing to peer into Alice's Looking Glass.  Finally, for those interested, Nassem Nicolas Taleb's The Black Swan.  (Actually, if you can handle unintended consequences, simply open your eyes to your own biography... could you have predicted the course of your own existence when you reached age 21?)  

Oh, incidentally, I'm glad Mr. Peterman mentioned Simon Winchester.  Pick up anything he has written and enjoy... A few years ago, CSPAN (Brian Lamb I believe) interviewed Mr. Winchester in his home in New England, discussing his books and craft.  It was nice meeting this gentleman (vicariously).  His home is awesome: a converted barn filled with tall windows and equally tall bookcases overlooking a meadow with woods beyond.  I'm seldom envious, but I was 'taken away' by his idyllic time capsule....

Hey, Doc-I second that plug for Simon Winchester. I recently read his The Meaning of Everything, about the OED (another good read lol), and it was delightful. 

This is starting to look like a book club meeting-in a good way!

Olivia!

You too enjoy reading the OED for fun?! Okay, we'll bring that to the pillow fight, too.

Sometimes I can envision a gigantic engine that sits in the basement of the universe and it has been running smoothly and efficiently since the beginning of time. The only interruption to the running of this otherwise perpetual motion machine occurs on those occasions when giant hands shut this exquisitely designed engine down and randomly, perhaps even blindly, disassemble and reassemble all of the interlocking gears that turn our world and spark all of the events that occur.

These hands will occasionally change the giant gears that when turned just one notch, will result in the turning of an almost infinite number of progressively smaller gears, each one of which will spin exponentially faster than the previous one.

Sometimes they just tinker with the middle and smallest of gears. Either way, this change out appears to be seamless from our vantage point.

Anyway...... it was about twenty five years ago that the turning of one of these gears lead me to discover a small ad in the Sunday New York Time magazine which featured, of all things, a tall, lanky cowboy wearing an incredible duster coat. This turning gear then led me to write and request a catalogue (the internet back then was but a twinkle in someone's (who is not named Al Gore) eye.

This catalogue was a whole new set of gears within itself ("an enigma wrapped up inside a mystery" perhaps). Instead of photographs, the products were depicted in sketches. Instead of bland descriptions, the products were wrapped in tales of mystery, romance and adventure.

Why . . . I almost felt that if I ordered some of this fine apparel, somehow these descriptive narratives might touch me. They did, and I was hooked.

From that point on I eagerly awaited each new catalogue, purchased new items, and inserted myself into the wonderful narratives.

When the giant hands changed out some of the tumblers that temporarily interrupted the flow of these stories and the products they described, I was saddened but not without hope.

And sure enough, someone fought through adversity and pushed back against these turning gears until the giant hands reassembled the tumblers they way they were and the magic of the "Owner's Manual" was again spinning gears and turning wheels.

As time flew by, a new gear was added to the "Owner's Manual's" arm of the great machine called "Peterman's Eye" which introduced me to a whole new set of fine minds, fresh ideas, different perspectives, and intriguing people whom I probably would not have had the pleasure of encountering, and learning about, had this gear not been added.

I know there were a lot of gears working and being changed; as well a great deal of sacrifice, commitment, hard work and risk taking that occurred prior to that add being posted in the "Times" by J. Peterman; but I never saw all of this coming.

Be well

p.s. I apologize for not inserting a rest stop halfway though this trip. I hope this didn't result in any negative unintended consequences.

p.p.s. I totally enjoyed reading all your thoughts  and comment this morning.  Well done.

Missive,

Oh my dear!  I sincerely hope you have managed to break the family chain.

Short Story of Unintended Consequences (I heard that sigh of relief)

If there had not been an unsettled labor dispute in the Chicago Stock Yards in 1949, my father would not have been at home all day and my mother would probably would have been sitting on the outside of the third floor window sill, facing in, while washing the windows as was her wont to do, instead of ...... Holy Zygote Batman! . . .  well,  I probably wouldn't be here.

Olivia,

"Arabs and Persians have concluded that it couldn't be themselves that allowed their great civilization to decay."

Of course not!  It's well known that no harm or evil has ever been perpetrated in the world except by westerners.  More specifically, all evils in history have been committed by white, affluant, adult, male English-speakers, virtually always from the U.S. or the U.K.  The only harms ever committed by anyone else were, it is no secret, directly provoked by members of the aforementioned demographic.

It is also important to recognize that any regime other than those of the U.S. and the U.K. can only be morally judged according to what it sees fit to show us on TV, whereas these two western regimes must be judged exclusively according to the worst sins of their history.  To do otherwise reflects ethnocentric prejudice.  After all, it is well known that any regime that you and I have never studied and never suffered under is better than our own.  Or, in the more popular recent jargon, the U.S. is "even worse" than those other regimes.

Now, I must go have an operation to remove tongue from cheek.

Missy, always great to find another logophile-we can read the OED out loud and bounce on the bed and eat popcorn and swing our pillows with abandon-can't WAIT! Oh yeah, and talk about all these BOYS! LMAO!!

Also, I'm the world's worst for crying. I had made it almost a whole week before your story, Miss Ive, but now I'm a mess-at work, too! (Yes, I sneak in here on breaks).

Peter, that was an interesting take on the workings of the Machine of Fate, or Deux ex Machina, or some such higher power. I too was enthralled when I first read the Peterman romances. There was another catalog I loved, too, that almost rivaled him for pure marketing genius, in my mind anyway, and that was the original Banana Republic gestalt of quirky stores, interesting antiques, cool catalogs with YOU ARE THERE descriptions of military surplus and handmade international goods, and QUOTES! I collected both for years, then an irate ex immolated the lot. I tend to have extreme effects on dissatisfied suitors, alas...now BR is a slick upscale Gap, and I experience a twinge of sadness every time I see it. Thank goodness JP has abided with us, thrived I hope. Speaking of hope, I still dream of that fabulous dress, now lost. Surely another one is out there somewhere, along with a hot-blooded Spaniard in the works lol. Sometimes hope is all we have, and sometimes it is enough.

DPR, so nice to hear from you-now I am instructed in the sins of our tribe, and wish you all failure in the extrication of tongue from cheek-it so suits you there!

Now I will attempt to go and make myself useful-safe paths, Brothers and Sisters of The Eye!

Olivia,

I was just thinking about it, and kinda wondered how I danced all around it without writing it out loud and here comes Olivia writing the "F" word. That being Fate of course.

I like the thought of fate existing when it suits me, but certainly not when I need to have the sense, or at least maintain the illusion, of having a bit of control.

It's way to nice outside today to be inside waxing philosophic.  I've got a hankerin' to get into the now for a bit, but it does seem to me that fate is the other side of the "unintended consequences" coin.  

The gods may very well laugh at men with plans.

Great topic, and it could go off in a variety fo directions.

We seem never to learn from history and research the consequences of past actions before we act anew.  The "barbarians" that over-took the Roman Empire and thus destroyed the great art and scientific advances of that time, the distruction of the Egyptian glory ( I know, earlier) the Crusades that destroyed the Eastern Cultures that we are only now learning had achieved such great engineering advancements that we are now, in the 21st century, re-inventing.  It gives me pause as we hear how the extremists are so bent on destroying the western culture.  Will we too, go into oblivion only to have the accomplishments we have made be re-discovered a millinium from now?  What stupidity.  Homo sapiens seem never to learn.  

On a personal note, since we seem to be confessing our tales today, I will relate my own Unintended Consequences story.  When my husband hit his early 40's, he went into a major midlife crisis.  We had a wonderful marriage, but his hormones went awry he became very unhappy with life and decided that our marriage must be the reason.  So we got divorced.  Because I had to go back to work, my son and I moved about 35 miles away from the small town we lived in and I began working again in genetics research and our son started in with the larger school system with many more opportunities.  Just at that time, When Bad Things Happen to Good People was published.  By a rabbi, I don't want to leave here and go look it up, but is was a Rabbi Herman, or something like that.  Anyway, I got it and the two of us started reading it every night and discussing the idea of working hard to make whatever happens in our life into something positive.  Our son really took this to heart and began facing all adversity as a challenge to overcome.  The short version of this is that my husband got his hormones back into ballance, we had the divorce annulled, and not only did our son have so many more doors opened to him because he had been exposed to many more experiences, I also was able to once again, contribute to research in my field.  We both actually thank my husband for his "upset" because without it, we wouldn't have been forced into a much higher level of achievement.  So, with effort, these consequences can definitely be positive, though at the time, all might look bleak.

By the way, it was in that larger city that I. too, discovered JP.  The ultimate advantage of the move... 

Oh, geez... I thought I was the only weirdo to buy the one volume OED in itsy bitsy print (which comes with super-duper magnifying glass.)  The ultimate eye test is 'Can you read it without using the magnifying glass...?' Some days I pass the exam, others I don't. And obviously the retina is working the same both days, so it has to do how effectively my brain is processing those inbound neuronal signals.  Strange thought....

An unintended consequence (and positive Black Swan)... Way back before my mother married (and had seven kids), she and her sister were 'messing around' in the old Victorian home in which they lived.  My grandfather (whose incredible biography I should someday raise) had  been cleaning his pistol but got called away. 

My aunt picked up the pistol and BOOM....

She missed my mom and put a big hole in the wall which my grandfather left there as a reminder of how his carelessness could have proved tragic.  And that is the story of why I'm here, along with my four brothers and two sisters. 

If my aunt had been a better shot, these words would never have been written.....

Greetings:  Peter Lake:  "it was about twenty five years ago that the turning of one of these gears ....."   Dern, the same thing happened to me!  It's a small world after all...(insert music).  

Twenty hree years ago, I was sailing North from Tortola, when I anchored in a channel near this small town in NC.  I went out on the beach to fly a kite (really) when this man stoped by to see what I was doing.  Turns out I had known this man thirty years prior.  We walked down to the local pub and discussed the posibility of me buying this said pub and staying put.  I traded my boat and I never left.  So with unintended consequences, I now have two awesome boys, an awesome wife, and an awesome job.  If someone tells you to "go fly a kite",  I really think you should consider it. 

I am still sailing my kids back to the Tortola area at the end of Oct.  Who knows what the tide will bring.

These stories are so wonderful!

Captain Neptune, Peterlake. . .

Just wonderful. What PeterLake said about finding Peterman really spoke to me, though. Don't you think there's something about the 'type' of people who are attracted to his aesthetic? And what that means about how they (we, as a set, on this site) live their lives in respect to keeping themselves open to serendipity—like kite flying and pub purchasing?!!!

Love it. So nice to be surrounded by such as yourselves.

Olivia, I cried writing it, too. My poor grandmother. Hellofa girl, too. Such a lady, but God could she drink. Even knew how to pour a beer without 'head.' Great memories. And if it makes you feel any better, she lived VERY comfortably her entire life, and her children do too now as a result. Let's be a little pragmatic, shall we?!!!

DPR—I can't answer that, yet. . .Verdict is still out. 

Missy-PRAGMATIC? Are you daft, girl? All I ever got from that is a safe rut and years of marking time. I tossed pragmatic out with the bathwater and a bad marriage last year, so now I'm an eccentric 'mature' lady who never met a whim she didn't follow...mostly. I do get the job done and the bills paid, but Minnie and I zip to the theatre or jazz clubs here or Dallas or Memphis (used to include Norleans, will be so glad to get back to The Funky Butt Club on Jackson Square) when the fit takes us. One day I may wear a long Peterman dress and Mary Janes and Annie Hall hat, the next a mini, crop top and Domme boots with a huge dose of attitude. I eat a healthy diet and work out every day so I can live a long and independent nutcase life, and I enjoy every moment. I'm sure I generate a great deal of indignation and tutting from the proper old hens I'm supposed to fit in with...I hope so!

When I tended bar, I would always ask, while drawing a beer, how much head the guy wanted. Always good for a bigger tip lol. Darn-I swore I would not go there when you mentioned your granny's pouring prowess-oh, well, no harm.

I love this forum: the stories, the thunder and nettles, the fearless show of emotions, the champagne shower of effervescent experiences, the sweetness underlying all. Who could ask for a better group of friends to moot with? 

You all present me with the groaning board, I try to supply the zabaglione...

CHEERS!

These postings are fabulous today, and tend to corroborate my long-held belief that fans of the Peterman catalog all have a je ne sais quois in common.

Olivia,

Of course you were going to go there!  It was a foregone conclusion.  But my question is:  What did the guys answer?

Ah, now, ye'll be knowing me too well, DPR darlin'...so you must know that the replies were many and varied, depending upon how well those lads themselves knew me, for most wanted the beer in their glass and not in their faces!

Alright, it's my turn for a story:

A pastor of a small church in Brooklyn decided, with his wife, to start a theatre company in their church.  Just as they were getting started, she very suddenly and tragically died of an artery blockage.  After her funeral and some time for trauma recovery, he proceeded with their plans.  Her life insurance wound up providing the last needed bit of budget for the theatre's first show.  (That and all future shows would be dedicated to her memory)

The production wound up being The Three Musketeers.  They hired, for the role of the villainous Cardinal Richelieu, a talented but irresponsible rogue of an actor who double booked his time during rehearsals and behaved like a pig towards the female members of the cast.  He was eventually fired.

With only half the rehearsal time remaining, the director and producer desperately needed a new villain.  Coincidentally, they had hired a good friend of mine to play Athos and he recommended me for the part.  I auditioned and was cast.

As I walked into the church/theatre for my first rehearsal, a young woman who had been cast as Richelieu's spy in the royal household introduced herself to me.  None of us could have known then that we would end up married and with a beautiful daughter.

The theatre folded after one season and the pastor left New York, filled with many disillusionments (I will not bore you with the details at this time).  But he came back to the city a couple of years later in order to perform our wedding ceremony.  My wife believes that the primary reason he is so fond of us is because our family turned out to be the only good, lasting, positive thing that survived as a direct result of that troubling and difficult time in his life that had been filled with familial tragedy and artistic failure.

Every one of us shared the same unintended consequence: The creation of the theatre, the recommendation of a colleague, the playing of a part, the dating of a co-worker, the whole kit and caboodle led directly to the birth of my daughter.  Who'da thunk???

Very good, DPR. I've tried to tickle your imaginations with some of my more interesting moments (illuminating sparks between great stretches of boring daytoday sameness, I'm afraid). You all have such wonderful tales to relate. What a lovely day at the Eye.

Thanks all!

I love posting just prior to the toll of the daily bell. Like I can sneak it in an no one will notice.

Olivia. Be careful daring me to live a life of eccentricity. I'm highly influential, I should tell you now, since we are to be old friends.

I will say this, in a fit of anonymity, today is, ironically, my eight-year anniversary. My mate has spent it in marriage counseling, which he asked me to stay home from. I can only imagine what he thinks of his crazy wife. . .

Whatever. I really have no dogs in that race, which, come to think of it, may be the problem. . .

Am smiling now, really. Inspired by PeterLake, will tell my Peterman story, just for fun.

I stayed at home for years with my boys. A MUST DO. Then my mate said, YOU must work. So I did. And then I started a blog because I was a marketeer at heart who thought that, somehow it would bring me back home to my sons. And on my tenth post, I drove to work thinking of an arbitrary comparison between the two 'j's in my life: J. Crew and J. Peterman. And then I thought, NO. Silly. And then, a good song came on. I think it was Paul Simon. And I zoned out. So I wrote about J. Peterman that morning before our board meeting. And their marketing director wrote to me. And he said, "You should be on our blog." And I said, "No. I should not. I have given real thought UP to THE GODS. It's a myth of fingerprints. I have to keep walking. Deep, deep sand is what I seek." And he said, NO. Go. Do this. Very bossy man, he is.

And I posted on Hiroshima. And I was mad at him. Because when your head comes out of the sand, so does all the crap you've buried, so successfully. I was a hellofa soccer mom. But that was when I ruled the world. . .

So PeterLake, my life has changed thanks to bloody Peterman, too. And all for some clothing. Such a waste. Am currently attempting a re-burial. . .wish me luck.

Olivia,

Thanks for the book referral....it's on my list.

missive,

I wish you happiness,   treasures shouldn't be buried.

Missy, you have a gift, dear. Don't hide your light, we need its illumination!

Your pal-Olivia

PeterLake and Olivia!

Very 'venting' post last night. I thank you for your words. Really.  

Missive,

It's less than two hours before posting on this page becomes impossible and everyone is excitedly talking about their favorite books on the current page.  I'm the one who has the chance to sneak in unnoticed.

I have a lump in my throat right now.  I fear that someone for whom I have very high regard may be unhappy.  It is strange because, as we can sometimes forget in these virtual forums, we have never met.  Please know that I am pulling for you.  Whatever the details of the ultimate result may be (and god knows it's none of my business), I hope it is something that leads to your joy and delight and contentment.

We all remember your Hiroshima post.  My first thought was "Whoa!  Who is this lady?  I hope she stays a while!"  I can't begin to tell you how glad I am (and I'm sure the rest of the community feels this way too) that the marketing director was so bossy.

Missive:  Yeh, "what he said"! (DPR)

I've spent much spare time reading back on this forum, to great exaltation, and glad am I to be counted among your number. Missy, how does one hold a friend in cyberspace? Know that I hold you in my heart, and my hope for you knows no limit.

Be well, sister.