Beyond Ray Bradbury

The Phoenix spacecraft landed on Mars and sent pictures. Its nine months journey( perhaps symbolic) to the red and icy planet a great hope for scientists to discover whether there once was or ever could be life beneath the craggy looking surface. We’ve been fascinated with Mars for decades now, perhaps since Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles titillated our imagination about Martians and what they would be like and would or would not do. We tended to assume them as funny looking bipeds, and when the idea of life on Mars seemed remote, we transferred our fantasies to aliens from whatever planet or galaxy. Carl Sagan’s beliefs in extra terrestrials infused us with the idea that it is not only possible, the probability is higher than many had up to then dared to think. And Steven Spielberg’s endearing ET made us pine for contact with an extra-terrestrial. The more we know about science the more we realize that for humans to be the only form life in this vast universe may be an anomaly. So naturally we look for life elsewhere, and when science is too slow our wishful thinking makes up the difference. I am so amazed by the form these thoughts often take. Perhaps it is due to the memorable The Day The Earth Stood Still. Do I remember them correctly,weren’t the magic words klatu, berata nicto? In the movie the ET is wise, all knowing, coming from a civilization more advanced than earth issuing a warning for us to stop our warring ways. It seems as if that idea has colored so much of our imagination, which also surfaced in another Spielberg movie, Close Encounters of the Third Kind. That ET too seemed wiser than we are. But would that be so?
The Vatican has now joined the fray, indicating that aliens are possible and would be like us children of god, since god’s realm extends to the universe. It is a good point and one that may be more useful to the debate than many have given it credit for. Still whether or not other life forms in the universe would be children of god does not automatically endow them with wisdom, love or the desire for peace. There’s at least a fifty fifty chance that they could be behind us in development or mirroring certain periods in our history when we were more brutal and savage than we are now.
When contemplating whether there’s life out there, the idea may not be whether it exists, but whether we are ready to handle the possibility with all its unknowns and possible dangers?

The Guidelines Mean Me

Earlier this month a consortium of influential physicians issued a first, a set of guidelines to be used in a pandemic or similar disaster. To put it bluntly the following groups would not be treated: the very elderly, seriously hurt trauma victims, severely burned patients and those with dementia. The idea is not to just let some people die, but to insure that scarce resources, meaning equipment like ventilators, medicines, as well as doctors and nurses, are not only used to best advantage but in a uniform, objective way.
The physicians involved in drawing up these guidelines came from top universities as well as from government agencies such as the Centers for Disease Control, the Department of Homeland Security, the Department of Health and Human Services. Their suggestions get down to the nitty gritty. For example, those who won’t get life saving care include people with a severe chronic disease such as advanced heart failure, lung disease or poorly controlled diabetes. I am in one of those group. I have several lung problems. They are under control, but in a traumatic situation without medications I suppose it could soon become acute. Add to this the reality of the circumstance, in emergency conditions, with a shortage of personnel since many people would be needing attention, the triage nurse or doctor could or could not make a mistake about my condition and judge it worse than it is, and with the few seconds he or she would have to make a decision regarding my fate, just be the catalyst for me to have X numbers of days left. It’s one thing to watch reruns of M*A*S*H and see Major Hoolahan faultlessly triage and decide what happens to each incoming wounded, it’s another to transpose that kind of activity to real life. So, while nothing is for certain, and I may be borderline, the fact is that there is great likelihood those guidelines mean me and I may well be among those who would not receive care. Regardless, I do think these guidelines are an achievement. Certainly mistakes will be made, they are inevitable in a way and occur with or without guidelines. Still the fact that they exist and that (whether or not they would directly affect me) they are sound ought to be hailed by many. Sure, it is a grim subject, one none wants to really draw attention to or discuss, but it is a necessary one. The rationing of medical care when it is based on income is one thing–and of course indirectly happens anyway by leaving out those who cannot afford certain medical insurance or procedures–but the allotment of resources where they can do the most good is this side of wisdom. If that means me, then I must accept it, not only in the name of those who might be saved, but also because given whatever shape I may be in, it may be a treatment I myself would not want, a set of consequences I would deem undesirable. I can only hope that if this is how I am to go, as a result of the guidelines for a pandemic or disaster, that by then what I am trying to do before I go, is finished. And should there be a mistake, with me or with anyone, may it be one that allows the decision makers to refine the guidelines and make them a better gauge of who is not to receive treatment.

Better Than a President?

Like my cohorts I grew up with Ted Kennedy being part of the political landscape, taking his presence for granted in a way, and like so many others the news of his having a malignant brain tumor saddens me. I could indulge thoughts like what a pity or what a loss, but I’d rather celebrate his life, right now while he’s fit and aware, the way I would with any friend or family member.
This being a presidential season, I am even more struck by his contribution and achievement. He ran for president and didn’t make it, inviting the notion that he settled for second choice. On a personal level he may have, but on a national level it may be that his mark on the country was stronger than the one he might have made as president. Something about more than four decades in the senate do add up to a mighty legacy. Perhaps it doesn’t have the panache, the cachet, the exclusiveness of the presidency, but it underlines a steady effort, fighting on the side of those who have-not stretching the net that was to go towards them, reining in efforts to shorten or limit that net. He has stood as a bridge builder in an era of partisanship and can fondly be remembered for having integrity and principles.
Indeed, the presidency holds power, and the consequences of the current U.S. administration let us know how much, for it was powerful enough to sink American prestige and soil its moral standing. But the presidency is four years, a fraction of Kennedy’s service in the senate. More than that, it prompts us to recognize that in a democracy there are several seats of power, that in our American version, the legislative branch is meant to be as powerful as the executive–and the judicial for that matter. The presidency is the outer,visible locus of power, but it is not always the only one, nor the most influential in the long term. It all means that for anyone entertaining the slightest sense of pity, poor Ted Kennedy he didn’t get to be president, think again. By not giving up, by persisting in public service, by being the best senator he knew how, Ted Kennedy ended up contributing as least as much as his brothers Jack and Robert, and wielding an influence as least as equal as that of a president, and probably more salutary than some.
Al Gore discovered there’s more to power than being president, and in time so will Hillary Clinton along with whoever is not elected president next November.

Arisha’s Love

It was Arisha’s first birthday and except for the few weeks she went to India, she’s seen me everyday of her life. I live next door and she knows me better than any other adult besides her parents. So it was natural that at her party she would go to me in a way she wouldn’t to others. For one thing I was familiar. Several there took me for her grandmother and when I corrected the perception, Matthew said, “It doesn’t matter, she’ll love you like one. She doesn’t know the difference.” I realized what he said had truth in it,but she already has such wonderful grandparents, I dismissed it. But a few days later she was playing in my living room feeling safe enough that when her parents feigned leaving, in a ploy to get her to come home since it was bedtime, she noticed their leaving and then went on playing. It was easy to recall Matthew’s words.
I’ve seen her change from infant into toddler and witnessed all the wonders that go along with this natural progression, and barring anything unforeseen will continue to marvel at how a toddler becomes a little girl. No matter how the term is defined, it’s accurate to say I love Arisha. I’ve taken such delight in all her little daily doings of learning new words, recognizing birds, smiling at dogs and endeavoring to say my name. But it’s one thing to love her and draw joy from it, and another to have her love me–or whatever sentiment is budding within her. While just loving her, even without expectations, could be rather self serving, if she is to love me back, then loving her comes with responsibility–that means with all the other-orientedness and self forgetfulness her trust in me beckons. Arisha deserves no less.