The boy who cried crisis

It’s not a perfect parallel, because Covid started out as a real threat, and is getting under control, while the wolf starts out as a prank and only becomes a real danger later in the story. But as I read about more and more government officials declaring an Omicron crises, “the boy who cried wolf” is what keeps coming to mind.

There will always be another variant, and there will always be another excuse for government to peddle fear and assert more power. Some people — like the villagers — are already done with it, and aren’t listening any more. Others seem addicted to fear, although they’re afraid of the wrong thing. They should be afraid of the totalitarian states they’re enabling.

Covid is a bad thing. Tyranny is worse.

Will a new nursery rhyme be born out of this madness? Maybe something along the lines of a group of mice who are so afraid of the Big, Bad, Bully mouse, that they invite a cat into their home.

My Viking joke didn’t go over very well

I went swimming this morning, and afterwards I was drying off next to an older fellow who asked me if I had any Viking blood. I said that I did, although I only knew that from a DNA test. I’d always thought I was UK and German.

He looked me over and said he guessed at my ancestry because of my coloring (pale skin, red beard — now getting grey, I’m afraid) but also because of my hands and feet. He said Vikings tended to have large hands and feet.

That seemed odd. My feet are a little above average, but I think my hands are pretty typical.

Anyway, we chatted a bit in the locker room. You get a discount at this pool if you live in the neighborhood, which I don’t. He said, “that’s okay, we allow foreigners,” to which I replied, “You’d better, or we’ll just raid the place.”

I don’t think he got it.

Do we know what we believe?

Jordan Peterson is famously cagey when asked if he believes in God, and his responses can be annoying. But the more I think about the question, the more I understand where he’s coming from.

For example — Let’s say someone claims to believe in materialism. That’s what he’ll say if you ask him. That’s the way he believes that he thinks. But he also believes a lot of other things that are inconsistent with materialism, and he acts consistent with those other beliefs.

Does he really believe in materialism? You could say he does or you could say he doesn’t. Its not a straight-forward question.

I’m sure all of us have been in situations where we say something radical, and someone (maybe your mother) says “You don’t really believe that!” And … maybe you really don’t.

In other words, there may be a disconnect between what we tell ourselves and what we actually believe. In fact, it seems very likely that there is. We create all these deceptive self-images to flatter our egos. But it’s not who we are in a pinch.

What we say we believe — and what we tell ourselves we believe — might not be the same as what we actually believe.

I’m not suggesting that we always question ourselves about everything, so that if someone asks, “Do you believe in ghosts?” you have to say, “I don’t think I do.”

But there may be certain beliefs that are so deeply wired in our minds that we still believe them despite protestations to the contrary. For example, the sophomore may insist he doesn’t believe in other minds, but … he really does.