12.7.2025

 Sunday, December 7, 2025

1941 Imperial Japanese Navy with 353 planes attacked the US fleet at Pearl Harbor Naval Base, Hawaii, killing 2,403 people

1965 Roman Catholic Pope Paul VI and Orthodox Patriarch Athenagoras I simultaneously lifted the mutual excommunications that led to the split of the two churches in 1054 during the Great Schism

1972 Apollo 17 was launched, the final manned lunar landing mission during which the crew took the famous "blue marble" photo of the entire Earth

2015 Time Magazine readers named Bernie Sanders their ' Person of the Year

In bed at 9, up at 5:15.  24°, wind chill 14°, high 25°.  Snow, sleet now, and mostly sunny after 8 a.m.  

Meds, etc.  Morning meds at  a.m.   

The Blue Marble photo was released as America was concluding its disastrous war in Vietnam.  Harry Truman, the first president that I can remember, was dying.  The Watergate scandal was intensifying and the involuntary conscription or 'draft' of American males was terminated.  The UK, Ireland, and Denmark were joining the European Union, and we were deep in the Cold War with the Soviet Union and the ever-present threat of nuclear warfare.  Are we better off now, worse, or are we in a permanent state of serious and perhaps existential peril? 

My FB post this morning: Good guys and bad guys.  I was born in 1941, a few months before the Japanese Imperial Navy attacked America's Pacific fleet at Pearl Harbor.  I grew up after the war in the pre-TV era in which the main sources of popular entertainment were the radio at home and movies at our local movie houses.  Movies then were black and white in more ways than one, meaning you never had to guess who the good guys were and who the bad guys were.  Many World War II movies were made between the end of the war and the mid-50s.  In all of them, the good guys were the Americans and Brits, and the bad guys were the Germans and the Japanese.  In the countless Western movies made then, the cowboys were the good guys and the Indians, stagecoach robbers, and cattle rustlers were the bad guys.  The good guys were all good and the bad guys were all bad.  White hats vs. black hats.  Cowboy hats vs. feathered war bonnets.  

    In the war movies, the bad guys were occupiers and oppressors, the good guys - us - were liberators.  Their political leaders and generals were aggressors and murderers; our leaders and generals were heroes.  They had Tojo and Yamamoto; we had MacArthur and Halsey.  They had Himmler and Heydrich; we had Eisenhower and Marshall.  As children, we never wondered about the righteousness of our national causes or the moral and legal integrity of those fighting for us.  

    Those days are long gone.  They ended in Vietnam where we intervened in a civil war to aid the side that our government had installed, financed, and otherwise kept in power.  We falsely claimed that we intervened to support democracy.  In fact, our government prevented the holding of the 1956 democratic election required by the 1954 Geneva Accords because our government knew that Ho Chi Minh would have won decisively.  In 1965, when the side we supported was about to lose militarily to the side we opposed, we invaded the country in force.  The Russians invaded Ukraine in 2014 and again in 2022 because they did not like the government supported by the majority of the Ukrainian people.  We did a very similar thing in 1965 in South Vietnam.  And, in short order, we were not the good guys anymore, at least for most of the world, and even for a good portion of Americans.  "Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?", was a chant heard in Washington, D.C., and on college campuses across America.  For a good number of Americans, their own soldiers and Marines became the bad guys.  LBJ, McNamara, Westmoreland, Nixon, and Kissinger became objects of contempt and scorn, as did American soldiers, sailors, Marines, and airmen.  I was one of them, torn between pride in my service and shame.

   In 2003, we became the bad guys again when the United States invaded Iraq on the claim that Saddam Hussein possessed weapons of mass destruction. None were found. Worse, there was no workable plan for stabilizing the country after the invasion. The resulting chaos helped fuel the rise of ISIS and shifted regional power toward Iran. The human and financial costs were staggering: hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civilians killed, more than 4,000 American troops lost and tens of thousands wounded, millions of Iraqis displaced, and a long-term U.S. price tag estimated at $2–3 trillion.

    Now, Trump, Hegseth, Bondi, and Admiral Bradley have made us the bad guys again.  Operating under the supposed legal authority of secret opinion memos from the Justice Department's Office of Legal Counsel, and with the certain concurrence of the White House Legal Counsel, we are blowing up boats in the southern Caribbean and the eastern Pacific Ocean and killing their occupants.  The boats are not warships and the occupants are not hostile foreign forces or mercenaries.  They are, allegedly, drug traffickers, "mules."  They ae said to be members of South American drug cartels, but there has been no public evidence of that.  For all we know, they could be fishermen hired to deliver cargo to Caribbean islands, but even if their cargo is cocaine, there is no right under American or international law to kill them summarily.  What we are doing is murder.  The issue is - at long last - coming to a head with Admiral Bradley's order to kill two survivors of an American attack on the boat they were riding in.  They were clinging to the still-floating bow of the boat, waving at a passing aircraft for help, and probably praying to God for help, for survival, when Admiral Bradley, with the support of Pete Hegseth, ordered them killed.  After World War II, several German and Japanese submarine commanders were prosecuted for killing survivors from the ships they had torpedoed and sunk.  We should not ignore it: Admiral Bradley, Pete Hegseth, Pam Bondi, and Donald Trump are the bad guys.  And we are the bad guys if we are OK with these killings.

Micaela kindly returned this painting I did 30 years ago (?).  It's a knock-off of Berenice Abbot's famous photo portrait of James Joyce.  I had it hanging, unframed, in my law office for quite a while until, at some point, Tom asked me if he could have it, and I gave it to him.   I admit to a stingy donative intent; I wasn't very happy to lose it, but Tom had it framed at placed prominently in their home's entryway, which surprised me but made me sort of proud of it.  At some time - I can't remember whether it was before or after Tom's death - it was moved up to their third floor, and I worked up the moxie to ask Caela if perhaps she didn't want it anymore and, if so, could I have it back.  I was delighted when she agreed to return it, "on long-term loan," which also pleased me since I suspect my 'masterpieces' are destined for a landfill when I kick the bucket.  Another painting that I gave away on request I titled "Sammy and Rosie Get Laid", a 1987 British film directed by Stephen Frears, with a screenplay by Hanif Kureishi. about life in Britain during the Margaret Thatcher era.  I very much liked the film and very much liked my painting and wish I could get it back.  My attempts to reach Deirdre Keenan to see if she had tired of it were unsuccessful.  She had a very direct way of asking for it: "If you loved me, you would give it to me."  It worked.  I gave it to her and have missed it ever since.  It would be altogether too much to suggest that my paintings and drawings are like my children or like old friends, but it is certainly true that I have formed a relationship of sorts with them.  If I like one enough to keep it, I want to put it where I can see it, with all its imperfections.  Each one reminds me of the enjoyment I had drawing or painting it.  I've long wondered how professional artists, those who sell their artworks, feel about parting with their works for money.  Are there pieces that they can't get themselves to put on the market?  

Birdfeeder business.  I waited until 4 o'clock to add seeds to the tray feeder and to spread some on the ground.  It doesn't take long for the mourning doves and cardinals to show up and chow down in the crepuscular light after I replenish the seed stock.  Last night, a white-tail buck showed up in the dark and filled up on the seeds I spread at twilight.  I'm wondering whether he'll show up again tonight.  I'm going through quite a bit of sunflower and safflower seeds since it turned cold.  

Geri shoveled both driveways while I was at MetroMarket this afternoon.  I wish Rustin, our snow guy, had shown up to plow the driveways and shovel our sidewalk, but it appears there wasn't enough snow.  It was a close call.  More snow is expected Tuesday and Wednesday, and I'm not happy about it.  I'm fearful it's going to be a long, challenging winter.  It makes me wish I could be a snowbird from December through March, or even  April, but I can't imagine leaving the house empty and untended that long, nor can I imagine being away from my many doctors at the VA that long.

Geri is trying out a new (old) recipe for a blueberry pie this afternoon.   She got it from her college buddy and lifelong friend Kate Donovan.  We are feasting again on the leftover baked ziti she made last night.  Fresh homemade pie for dessert.😋

12/6/2

 Saturday, December 6, 2025

1273 Thomas Aquinas, thought to have had a mystical experience in Naples, refused to continue his work "I cannot, because all that I have written seems like straw to me"

1950 Pope Pius XII published encyclical Mirabile illud

2013 Pope Francis gave his assent to a proposal to create a permanent post on the Pontifical Commission on cases of sin and sexual abuse of minors

2017 US President Donald Trump officially recognized Jerusalem as Israel's capital, announcing plans to move the US embassy there

2024  A US court of appeals upheld the Protecting Americans from Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications Act, which required the China-based company ByteDance to sell TikTok by January 19 or face an effective ban on operations in the United States. 

In bed at 8:45, awake at 3:30, and up at 4:30.   26°, wind chill 17°, high 28°.

Meds, etc.  Morning meds at 7:30 a.m. 

 To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;—
Go forth, under the open sky, and list
To Nature’s teachings, while from all around
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air—
Comes a still voice—Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix for ever with the elements,
To be a brother to the insensible rock
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.

 Yet not to thine eternal resting-place
Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world—with kings,
The powerful of the earth—the wise, the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,—the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods—rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old Ocean’s gray and melancholy waste,—
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes of death,
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom.—Take the wings
Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound,
Save his own dashings—yet the dead are there:
And millions in those solitudes, since first
The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep—the dead reign there alone.

 So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw
In silence from the living, and no friend
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come
And make their bed with thee. As the long train
Of ages glide away, the sons of men,
The youth in life’s green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron and maid,
The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man—
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,
By those, who in their turn shall follow them.
 So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, which moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

 

I'm pretty sure I first read William Cullen Bryant's Thanatopsis in high school.  In that era, I suspect all high school students were required to read it and I suspect that almost all of them, like me, hated it.  Who, in their mid to late teen years, wants to read a poem about death?  The 'last bitter hour,' 'the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, / And breathless darkness, and the narrow house . . .'  I'm also pretty sure that this morning is the only time I have read the entire poem since those high school years, though I may have been required to read it again in a college literature course; I can't recall.  At age 84, having made contractual arrangements for my "green burial," the poem is more meaningful to me that it was in my teens.  We are told that Bryant may have written the poem when he was 17 years old.  If that be true, he must have been a very unusual teenagers.  In any case, I'm struck by his description of the  consequences of a green burial, mixing forever with the elements and especially "The oak / Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould."  A little less graphic, please???  And that description of Earth as "the great tomb of man" and "the sad abodes of death." Yuck!  In the first two segments of the poem, he paints such a dark picture, it's hard to imagine following his concluding  counsel to so live that you will approach death 

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 

A comforting image, but realistic?  I think of the competing image drawn by Yeats in the third stanza of his Vacillation:

No longer in Lethean foliage caught

Begin the preparation for your death

And from the fortieth winter by that thought

Test every work of intellect or faith,

And everything that your own hands have wrought

And call those works extravagance of breath

That are not suited for such men as come

proud, open-eyed and laughing to the tomb. 

A fanciful image, coming proud, open-eyed and laughing to the tomb."  Ha, ha, ha!  Fuck you, Death!  But it's Yeats who's talking, not minister John Donne:

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and souls deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better than thy stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

 Done was a believing Christian.  He believed in Heaven, Hell, salvation, redemption, and eternity.  No so for Yeats, a believer in faeries and somesuch, who also wrote in Vacillation:

I - though heart might find relief Did I become a Christian man and choose for my belief What seems most welcome in the tomb - play a pre-destined part. Homer is my example and his unchristened heart.

Such are the kind of thoughts prompted by waking up at 3:30 and lying awake until 4:30, thinking about congestive heart failure and a million related thoughts. 

12/5/2025

 Friday, December 5, 2025

63 BC Roman consul Cicero delivers the last of his famous Catiline Orations before the Senate on the fate of the Cataline conspirators

1955 Historic bus boycott begins in Montgomery, Alabama by Rosa Parks and other civil rights activists

1967 Pediatrician Benjamin Spock and poet Allen Ginsberg were arrested in New York while protesting against the Vietnam War

In bed at 9:35, up at 5:30.  14°, wind chill -2°, high 27°, windy morning, cloudy day.

Meds, etc.  Morning meds at 9:30 a.m.  I applied the 20% urea exfoliant/moisturizer to my left leg last night.  This morning, it's very bumpy, which I assume is from dead or dying skin cells exfoliating.  Dr. Khalid made quite a point of using the 20% urea cream, but I'm sill a bit confused about it, specifically about how to deal with the exfoliated skin cells without opening up new vectors for bacterial infection.  I'm semi-paranoid about re-infection, redevelopment of cellulitis, and re-admission to the hospital.  

I'm also wondering this morning about my irregular, slow heart rate, and whether that is what accounts for my chronic fatigue and dizziness/balance problems.  The nurses at the VA have been picking up the low rates on the last few visits, rates of 31, 32, or 33, compared to the normal average of 67 to 74, or so.  My home readings last week:

11/25    13:00  150/63/31

11/27   11:19   172/85/31

            11:21   171/65/63

            11:32   168/68/32

 

11/28.  14:38.   144/68/63 

            14:47.   143/70/33

            14:54.   144/60/33

11/29.  12:27.   148/75/70

            1::34.    151/63/69

             2:44.    161/73/:67

             12:53.  156/69/64

11/30.   11:45.  152/76/63

             11:52.  158/75/62

             12:00.  169/81/63

12/1.     11:42.   202/82/62

              11:50.  200/84/62

              12:00.  184/92/61

              12:10.  192/94/62

Kali Kisro declined to change my blood pressure meds because of concerns about potential cardiac side effects.  She has referred me to the Cardiac Clinic, but I haven't heard from them yet.   Congestive heart failure?  Premature ventricular contractions?  Other stuff?  I won't be surprised. 

In my Harold and Maude/Thanatos current life, I was kind of glad to learn that I have some heart problems, since my primary concern has become living long into total decrepitude, debilitation, and dependency, coupled with chronic pain.  A heart attack, cardiac arrest, or cardiac failure all seem preferable to a painful terminal cancer or one of many dementias, or life in a nursing home wearing a diaper and being bathed by someone who, perhaps, loathes me.  I would never say this to Micaela or to any of his children, but I've often thought how lucky Tom St.John was to die when, and where, and how he did: snorkeling with his wife and son in the Caribbean at age 79 of cardiac arrest.  There are so many worse ways to go.  Of course, I know that the only sure way to avoid a terrible death is to take charge of your own death.  That is an option that seems easy enough for a person who would leave no loved survivors, but not so easy for one who would hurt innocent others by his suicide.  I think of how Earnest Hemingway did himself in with his wife Mary upstairs.  I often think of Zeke Emanuel's article in the October 2014 issue of The Atlantic, "Why I Hope to Die at 75."  It's an arrogant, presumptuous essay, but not dishonest.  He gives almost no value to life after 75, even though many people find their life after 75 to be great and very much worth living.  But Zeke is a physician and he knows more than most of us about the ravages of old age.  Excerpts: 

[H]ere is a simple truth that many of us seem to resist: living too long is also a loss. It renders many of us, if not disabled, then faltering and declining, a state that may not be worse than death but is nonetheless deprived. It robs us of our creativity and ability to contribute to work, society, the world. It transforms how people experience us, relate to us, and, most important, remember us. We are no longer remembered as vibrant and engaged but as feeble, ineffectual, even pathetic.

I am talking about how long I want to live and the kind and amount of health care I will consent to after 75. Americans seem to be obsessed with exercising, doing mental puzzles, consuming various juice and protein concoctions, sticking to strict diets, and popping vitamins and supplements, all in a valiant effort to cheat death and prolong life as long as possible. This has become so pervasive that it now defines a cultural type: what I call the American immortal.

But as life has gotten longer, has it gotten healthier? Is 70 the new 50?  Not quite. It is true that compared with their counterparts 50 years ago, seniors today are less disabled and more mobile. But over recent decades, increases in longevity seem to have been accompanied by increases in disability—not decreases. . . [A]s people age, there is a progressive erosion of physical functioning. . . . .  [O]ver the past 50 years, health care hasn’t slowed the aging process so much as it has slowed the dying process. 

[T]he contemporary dying process has been elongated. Death usually results from the complications of chronic illness—heart disease, cancer, emphysema, stroke, Alzheimer’s, diabetes. . . 

So American immortals may live longer than their parents, but they are likely to be more incapacitated. Does that sound very desirable? Not to me.

[O]ne in three Americans 85 and older has Alzheimer’s. And the prospect of that changing in the next few decades is not good. 

The American immortal, once a vital figure in his or her profession and community, is happy to cultivate avocational interests, to take up bird watching, bicycle riding, pottery, and the like. And then, as walking becomes harder and the pain of arthritis limits the fingers’ mobility, life comes to center around sitting in the den reading or listening to books on tape and doing crossword puzzles. And then …

Once I have lived to 75, my approach to my health care will completely change. I won’t actively end my life. But I won’t try to prolong it, either. Today, when the doctor recommends a test or treatment, especially one that will extend our lives, it becomes incumbent upon us to give a good reason why we don’t want it. The momentum of medicine and family means we will almost invariably get it.

My attitude flips this default on its head. I take guidance from what Sir William Osler wrote in his classic turn-of-the-century medical textbook, The Principles and Practice of Medicine: “Pneumonia may well be called the friend of the aged. Taken off by it in an acute, short, not often painful illness, the old man escapes those ‘cold gradations of decay’ so distressing to himself and to his friends.”

My Osler-inspired philosophy is this: At 75 and beyond, I will need a good reason to even visit the doctor and take any medical test or treatment, no matter how routine and painless. And that good reason is not “It will prolong your life.” I will stop getting any regular preventive tests, screenings, or interventions. I will accept only palliative—not curative—treatments if I am suffering pain or other disability. 

Ay, there's the rub.

To die, to sleep— No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: ’tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wished. 

To sleep, perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub!

Hamlet, Act III, scene 1.

This means colonoscopies and other cancer-screening tests are out—and before 75. If I were diagnosed with cancer now, at 57, I would probably be treated, unless the prognosis was very poor. But 65 will be my last colonoscopy. No screening for prostate cancer at any age. (When a urologist gave me a PSA test even after I said I wasn’t interested and called me with the results, I hung up before he could tell me. He ordered the test for himself, I told him, not for me.) After 75, if I develop cancer, I will refuse treatment. Similarly, no cardiac stress test. No pacemaker and certainly no implantable defibrillator. No heart-valve replacement or bypass surgery. If I develop emphysema or some similar disease that involves frequent exacerbations that would, normally, land me in the hospital, I will accept treatment to ameliorate the discomfort caused by the feeling of suffocation, but will refuse to be hauled off. 

 What about simple stuff? Flu shots are out. Certainly if there were to be a flu pandemic, a younger person who has yet to live a complete life ought to get the vaccine or any antiviral drugs. A big challenge is antibiotics for pneumonia or skin and urinary infections. Antibiotics are cheap and largely effective in curing infections. It is really hard for us to say no. Indeed, even people who are sure they don’t want life-extending treatments find it hard to refuse antibiotics. But, as Osler reminds us, unlike the decays associated with chronic conditions, death from these infections is quick and relatively painless. So, no to antibiotics.

Obviously, a do-not-resuscitate order and a complete advance directive indicating no ventilators, dialysis, surgery, antibiotics, or any other medication—nothing except palliative care even if I am conscious but not mentally competent—have been written and recorded. In short, no life-sustaining interventions. I will die when whatever comes first takes me. 

###############################################################################

 I have lived almost 10 years past age 75.  I live with daily fear of falling.  I have a hard time getting up from a chair.  My eyesight, hearing, and perhaps my sense of taste are failing.  This afternoon, I made a loaf of banana bread from scratch, i.e., with mashed ripe bananas, flour, brown sugar, eggs, sour cream, melted butter, baking soda, vanilla, and cinnamon.  The recipe doesn't take long, but I had to pause midway through the preparation of the batter to bring my rollator into the kitchen so I could sit on it while mixing the ingredients.  I can't stand for 10 or15 minutes ; severe arthritis L4-L5, L5-S1.  Getting dressed in the morning is a project.  If I don't shower, first I gently rub my lower left leg to remove exfoliated skin cells caused by my lymphedema, then I apply the 20% urea to cause more exfoliation, then Eurcerin moisturizer, then Vaseline to protect against bacterial invasion of tiny skin openings, then I wrap gauze bandaging around the Vaselined lower leg, then I don a knee length compression sock, then a compression foot device, and finally a velcro leg wrap.  I have 'trigger fingers' on both hands, and have taken to wearing 'arthritis gloves' when I sleep.  I inject myself with a very expensive immunosuppressant drug every two weeks to control my polymyalgia rheumatica and another expensive injection every Friday for my diabetes.  

My medical history reflected on my VA record includes Cervical radiculopathy , Trigger finger, Polymyalgia rheumatica, Chronic pain, shoulder pain, Pain ofSCT 133261000119105), Pelvic  bilateral hands, Exposure to potentially hazardous substance (and perineal pain, Low back pain, Grief, Diabetic macular edema of left eye, Mild nonproliferative retinopathy of left eye due to diabetes mellitus type 2, Tinea corporis, Benign paroxysmal positional vertigo,  Psoriasis,  Neurocognitive Disorder (SCT 709073001),  Mild cognitive impairment, Chest pain, Lipoma, Cellulitis of forearm, Memory impairment, Depression,  Chronic post-traumatic stress disorder,  Osteoarthritis of hip, Unsteady gait (SNOMED CT 22631008),  Diabetes mellitus, Benign hypertension, Hyperlipidemia, Gout, Gastroesophageal reflux disease, Barrett's esophagus, Diabetic retinopathy, Age related macular degeneration, Arthritis, Benign localized hyperplasia of prostate, Chronic primary bladder pain syndrome (SNOMED CT 38731000087104), Interstitial lung disease, and Genitocrural intertrigo.  I don't know where some of these listings come from, including the PTSD, but most of them I recognize readily.  They are the reason that every morning I take 16 pills and capsules.  I am a walking exemplar of Emanuel's "American Immortal." Shame on me????  

 

 

 

11/3/2025

 Thursday, December 4, 2025

1674 Father Marquette built the first dwelling in what is now Chicago

1943 MLB Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis and former MULS dean announced that any baseball club may sign Negro players

1961 MOMA hung Henri Matisse's picture "Le Bateau" right side up, after a visitor noticed it was displayed upside down, the first of 116,000 people in 47 days to notice 

2014 US authorities promised a "fair" investigation into the death of Black Eric Garner after a White NYC  police officer who held him in a chokehold faced no charges

2024  United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson is shot and killed outside a hotel in Manhattan, New York, in a targeted attack by Luigi Mangione

2024  Israeli settlers attack Huwara and Beit Furik in Nablus Governorate, West Bank, and sets fire to several buildings and vehicles. The attacks are in retaliation for Palestinians destroying illegal farming outposts. 

On July 17, 2014, Eric Garner, an African American man, was killed in the New York City borough of Staten Island by Daniel Pantaleo, a New York City Police Department (NYPD) officer, after the latter put him in a prohibited chokehold while arresting him.  NYPD officers approached Garner on July 17 on suspicion of selling single cigarettes from packs without tax stamps. After Garner told the police that he was tired of being harassed and that he was not selling cigarettes, the officers attempted to arrest Garner. When Pantaleo placed his hands on Garner, Garner pulled his arms away. Pantaleo then placed his arm around Garner's neck and wrestled him to the ground. With multiple officers pinning him down, Garner repeated the words "I can't breathe" 11 times while lying face down on the sidewalk. After Garner lost consciousness, he remained lying on the sidewalk for seven minutes while the officers waited for an ambulance to arrive. Garner was pronounced dead at a hospital area approximately one hour later.  The medical examiner ruled Eric Garner's death a homicide. Specifically, an autopsy indicated that Garner's death resulted from "[compression] of neck, compression of chest and prone positioning during physical restraint by police".  Asthma, heart disease, and obesity were cited as contributing factors. On December 4, 2014, a Richmond County grand jury decided not to indict Pantaleo. This decision stirred public protests and rallies, with charges of police brutality made by protesters. By December 28, 2014, at least 50 demonstrations had been held nationwide in response to the Garner case, while hundreds of protests against general police brutality counted Garner as a focal point. On July 13, 2015, an out-of-court settlement was reached, under which the City of New York would pay the Garner family $5.9 million. In 2019, the U.S. Department of Justice declined to bring criminal charges against Pantaleo under federal civil rights laws. On August 2, 2019, at a New York Police Department disciplinary hearing regarding Pantaleo's treatment of Garner, an administrative judge, NYPD Deputy Commissioner of Trials Rosemarie Maldonado, recommended that Pantaleo's employment be terminated.[7] Pantaleo was fired on August 19, 2019, more than five years after Garner's death.

On May 25, 2020, George Floyd, a 46-year-old Black American man, was murdered by Derek Chauvin, a 44-year-old White police officer, in Minneapolis, Minnesota, United States.  Floyd had been arrested after a store clerk reported that he had made a purchase using a counterfeit $20 bill.  Chauvin knelt on Floyd's neck for over nine minutes while Floyd was handcuffed and lying face down in the street.  Two other police officers, J. Alexander Kueng and Thomas Lane, assisted Chauvin in restraining Floyd. Lane had also pointed a gun at Floyd's head before he was handcuffed.  A fourth officer, Tou Thao, prevented bystanders from intervening.

Before being placed on the ground, Floyd had exhibited signs of anxiety, complaining about claustrophobia and being unable to breathe.  After being restrained, he became more distressed, still complaining of breathing difficulties, the knee on his neck, and fear of imminent death.  After several minutes, Floyd stopped speaking.  For the last few minutes, he lay motionless, and Kueng found no pulse when urged to check.  Chauvin ignored bystanders' pleas to lift his knee from Floyd's neck.

I wrote a long reflection on Eric Garner's killing on some unknown earlier date in this journal.  I have no idea when I wrote it, but I wish I could find it.  

In bed at 9, up and out to the TV room at 12:30, w/ Christmas thoughts.  9°, wind chill -8°, high of 18°, low +3° at 7 a.m. as I leave for the VA appointment with the infectious disease specialist.   

Meds, etc.  Morning meds at 10 a.m.   

Message exchange with Andy:

HI, Son.  First, Peter said he would like the coupon for Bucks tickets but didn’t come over during the weekend to pick them up.  Do you have his address at the dormitory, where I can mail it to him?  Second, Christmas planning.  Steve and Nikki are coming up from Chicago on Christmas Eve and staying overnight, with their dog.  I expect David and Sharon to come over for Christmas Eve dinner.  Do you want to try a get together on either day or wait till after there’s no dog issue to deal with?  Have you firmed up your plans 

Andy:

I asked Peter for the address. As for Christmas, we having mom over for Christmas Eve and then going to midnight Mass. Then going to Trucker’s during the day on the 25th. I don’t think there’s any plan for Drew’s birthday yet, though.

1121 N Milwaukee st, Viets Tower 216

Got it, thanks! 

Facebook posting today:

With all the attention being focused on the extrajudicial killings being done by our military, in response to orders from our government, I am moved to post again the wisdom written by Louis D. Brandeis, arguably the finest jurist ever to serve on our Supreme Court in the 1928 case of Olmstead v. United States:  

“The government is the potent omnipresent teacher. For good or ill, it teaches the whole people by its example. Crime is contagious. If the government becomes a lawbreaker, it breeds contempt for law; it invites every man to become a law unto himself; it invites anarchy. To declare that the end justifies the means -- to declare that the government may commit crimes -- would bring terrible retribution.”

I shudder when I think of the lessons our children and grandchildren are learning by watching what our government is doing.  I shudder even more when I think of what they learn by watching parents and grandparents who do not protest what our government is doing.  Donald Trump, Pete Hegseth, Kristi Noem, Pam Bomdi, Kash Patel: they constitute a faculty of wickedness, potent omnipresent teachers of our young ones.  As a former naval reservist and an old Marine, I am sickened to see how our military and naval forces are being used in the Caribbean.  As a human being, I tremble to see how immigrants are being persecuted regardless of their circumstances.  I can only imagine what Louis Brandeis would be saying and writing if he were alive today.     

11/3/2025

 Wednesday, December 3, 2025

1965 For the first time since the Vietnam War, the Marine Corps accepted a share of the then-upcoming January selective service draft harvest

2014 Protests erupted in cities across the US after a grand jury decided not to charge the New York City police officer who killed Eric Garner with a chokehold

2019 Kamala Harris ended her campaign to be the Democratic candidate for president

2022 Former President Donald Trump called in a Truth Social post for the "termination" of all rules, including the US Constitution, to overturn the 2020 election 

2024  South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol declares martial law for the first time in 50 years, prompting an emergency vote against it by the National Assembly 

2024  Lilly had a seizure and we had her euthanized at Blue Pearl Animal Hospital

In bed at 9:30, awake at 3:45, and up at 4:20.  26°, w/c 10°, high 32°, cloudy.

Meds, etc.  Morning meds at 7 a.m.    Kevzara injection at 1 p.m.  I completely forgot to take any of my meds yesterday.  I was distracted simply by the prospect of getting washed and getting dressed for my 11 a.m. appointment with Kali Kisro, and debating whether to slather my left leg with moisturizing cream, and to gird it with a more compressive sock or less compressive one, whether to don the foot compressor and the velcro wrap or not, will she want to look at the leg or not?  

Two entries on this date last year:

Life and Death: Living with Lilly in her 16th year, with daily thoughts of euthanasia.    Inexorable comparisons to myself in my 84th year.  When will it be an act of mercy, when something else?  Why do we so readily accept euthanasia for non-human animals and not for human animals?  Religion and the risk that a right to die can easily become a duty to die.

Lilly..At 8 p.m., we got home from Blue Pearl Animal Hospital, where we had Lilly euthanized. 

 

Yesterday's visit with Kali Kisro, DNS.  As I suspected, my blood pressure continues to be high, even with the 25 mg. daily chlorthalidone.  Kali declined to change the medication because of concern over my low heart rate and put in a referral to the Cardiology Clinic (Congestive Heart Failure).  She also ordered some pulmonary function tests because of my increasing shortness of breath and x-ray evidence of interstitial lung disease.  She ran through the annual depression questionnaire and said I registered as moderate to high on its scale.  Not a big surprise.😞

I'm dreading tomorrow's VA appointment with Dr. Khalid.  I'll be leaving before 7 a.m., with the projected temperature being +7° and wind chill of -7°.

12/2/2025

 Tuesday, December 2, 2024

1845 US President James K. Polk announced to Congress that the United States should aggressively expand into the West, a widely held belief termed "manifest destiny"

1942 The World’s 1st self-sustaining nuclear chain reaction occured in Chicago Pile-1 (the world's 1st nuclear reactor) at the University of Chicago, overseen by Enrico Fermi and Leó Szilárd

1954 US Senate censured Joeseph McCarthy for "conduct that tends to bring Senate into dishonor & disrepute

1968 US President Richard Nixon named Henry Kissinger as security advisor

2014 Stephen Hawking claimed that Artificial Intelligence could be a "threat to mankind" and spell the end of the human race

2018 Israeli police recommended that Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his wife be charged with fraud and bribery

2020 US Attorney General William Barr said there is no evidence of widespread voter fraud in the 2020 presidential election, despite claims by Trump

2024  U.S. President-elect Donald Trump says there will be "all Hell to pay" if all the hostages are not released prior to the start of his second term. 9:30

In bed at  9:30, moved to LZB around 11, back to bed around 5, and up around 6.  Not much rest.  Some hip pain in bed.  16°, wind chill 10°, high 25°.  Cloudy day ahead.  11 a.m. appointment with Kali Kisro.    

Meds, etc.  Morning meds at 9:30 a.m.  

My FB post yesterday:

Re: Pete Hegseth, Secretary "Lethality".  In the most recent (2023) edition of the DoD Law of War Manual (June 2015, updated July 2023), § 18.3.2.1 appears in Chapter XVIII – “Implementation and Enforcement of the Law of War”. 

“18.3.2.1 Clearly Illegal Orders to Commit Law of War Violations.

… For example, orders to fire upon the shipwrecked would be clearly illegal. Similarly, orders to kill defenseless persons who have submitted to and are under effective physical control would also be clearly illegal.” 

What our military forces are doing in the Caribbean is not combat, it's like shooting fish in a barrel.  If not legally authorized, it is criminal homicide, arguably premeditated murder.  Those committing the acts won't be prosecuted in the U.S., certainly not by Trump's Republican Department of Justice, which reportedly authorized the killings, but they may be indicted by the International Criminal Court and be subject to arrest, trial, and punishment in most of the countries of the world that have submitted to the jurisdiction of the ICC.  This is the position that Commander-in-Chief Trump and Secretary of Lethality Hegseth have put our servicemen in.

Is the Hegseth 'second shot' scandal an 'inflection point' for the US or did that occur after 9/11 with 'renditions, Abu Ghraib, etc.?  Quaere whether there is an 'inflection point' for the U.S.'s violation of the rules of war, or of any other rule when it came to defeating those who stood in the way of American expansionism, imperialism, or whatever we call America's voracious growth in territory. power, or hegemony over its history.  But, if there is a most significant point at which Americans ignored the rules of war, or domestic or international law, in order to achieve some desired goal, a point where the national policy was 'the end justifies the means,' wouldn't it be the policies adopted by George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, and Don Rumsfeld under the rubric 'the War on Terror'?  Hasn't the country long believed that "might makes right"?  Why did the nation's leaders so readily make and break treaties with native tribes, especially when gold was involved?  or settler interests (land cupidity) or business interests (the railroads)? etc.?  Just askin'.

Today's FB posting: We're hearing a lot about the legality of the boat strikes on the Caribbean Sea, but I've been wondering about the morality of those "kinetic actions."  I have especially been wondering this: if we were to ask everybody who self-identifies as a "Christian Nationalist", or who embraces the political views of those who so identify, whether the boat strikes in the Caribbean accord with Jesus's teachings, how would they answer?  If we were to ask them, 'What would Jesus do? ',  what would be their answers?  Would Jesus be OK with killing all the people in the boats we have blown up?  Would Jesus be OK with killing the survivors hanging on to the remains of the boat that we only partially destroyed on September 2nd of this year?  Pete Hegseth, our self-titled "Secretary of War," has derided "politically correct and overbearing rules of engagement, " and "stupid rules of engagement," in favor of giving commanders and troops broader authority to “intimidate, demoralize, hunt and kill the enemies of our country,”  arguing for “common sense, maximum lethality, and authority for warfighters.”  "Lethality" means deadly, mortal, fatal, lethal, i.e., causing or capable of causing death.  Hegseth wants our soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines in the business of "maximum lethality," which I take to mean something akin to Barry Goldwater's famous assurance in his 1964 presidential campaign that "extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice," or the end justifies the means.  Do the Christian Nationalists agree with that?  Do we?  Those people on the Caribbean boats are being killed in our name and supposedly on our behalf.  Do we suppose Jesus is OK with that?  Are we OK with that?  I'm not, but I note that Hegseth is a member of a Christian church near Nashville that is part of a network of the Communion of Reformed Churches, which is part of the Christian Nationalist movement.  They claim to be Christian, of course, and to focus on 'the sovereignty of God', so it seems appropriate to wonder how Pete and his co-religionists answer the question, What would Jesus do to those souls on board the boats, or hanging onto the remains of one, praying.

Visit with Kali Kisro today.  Irregular heartbeat, referral to Cardiology Clinic (congestive heart failure?), referral to Pulmonology for PFTs.  EKG plus regular blood and urine work.  I declined the COVID-19 vaccine.  Wise?  Footish?  Zeke Emanuel.  Why take daily BP meds, statin, and weekly diabetes injection?

12/1/2025

Monday, December 1, 2025

1955 Rosa Parks was arrested for refusing to move to the back of a bus and give her seat to a white passenger in Montgomery, Alabama

1958 Our Lady of Angels School fire killed 92 students & 3 nuns in Chicago, Illinois

1994 Jim Bakker, American televangelist and convicted fraud was released from jail

2024  Joe Biden pardoned his son, Hunter, despite his earlier pledge not to do so

In bed at 10, very bad GERD at midnight, vomited, moved onto the  LZB till 3:30,  up at 7:30.  Combination of spaghetti with marinara sauce and 1 glass of Zinfandel?  13°, wind chill of 6°, high of 28°.

Meds, etc.  Morning meds at 11:15 a.m.  Rough night, subdued day.

Of mourning doves, decrepitude, and places of abode.  We received 10 inches of heavy, wet snow on Saturday and Saturday night.  The tube feeders and the suet cakes at our feeding station were covered with frozen snow on their windward sides,  The tray feeder was buried under about 5 inches of the snow.  During the day, three mourning doves perched on the tray feeder and its supporting shepherd's crook. As the day progressed, I felt increasingly guilty about their inability to reach the seeds under the snow.  The snow on the ground was 9 or 10 inches deep. I have no boots, and I didn't want to try to get from the front door to the feeders in my slippers or sandals, so I went looking for some more substantial footwear, which I found in a far corner of my closet.  Geri saw me futilely struggling to negotiate the deep snow with my Bean's Lake walking stick in one hand and the fully-loaded birdseed scoop in the other, put on her boots, got a shovel, cleared a path to the feeding station, emptied the tray feeder of the snow and buried seeds, and refilled it.  She is solicitous of my well-being and especially of my tendency to fall.  I am grateful for her help, though it makes me ever more aware of my increasing feebleness, frailty, fragility, decrepitude, debility, helplessness, etc.  I contribute next to nothing to the ordinary, daily requirements of living in a house, as in truly "independent living."  But for Geri, I would be in an Assisted Living facility, perhaps with the VA.  She has decided she wants to stay in the house as long as possible, and I have agreed, but I wonder whether we have our heads stuck in the sand snow and ice.  She moved the trash cart out to County Line Road for pickup today, but reported some glare ice on the driveway.  Will one of us be able to return the cart to the garage without falling and maybe breaking a leg, hip, arm, or shoulder?  We have all of December, January, February, March, and April, during which the weather can effectively keep us housebound at times, during which there can be ice or snow or both on the ground.  Each day, each week, we are a day older, a week older, a week weaker.

That is no country for old men. The young

In one another's arms, birds in the trees

– Those dying generations – at their song,

The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,

Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long

Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.

Caught in that sensual music all neglect

Monuments of unageing intellect.

II

An aged man is but a paltry thing,

A tattered coat upon a stick, unless

Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing

For every tatter in its mortal dress,

Nor is there singing school but studying

Monuments of its own magnificence;

And therefore I have sailed the seas and come

To the holy city of Byzantium.

III

O sages standing in God's holy fire

As in the gold mosaic of a wall,

Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,

And be the singing-masters of my soul.

Consume my heart away; sick with desire

And fastened to a dying animal

It knows not what it is; and gather me

Into the artifice of eternity.

IV

Once out of nature I shall never take

My bodily form from any natural thing,

But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make

Of hammered gold and gold enamelling

To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;

Or set upon a golden bough to sing

To lords and ladies of Byzantium

Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

Sailing to Byzantium, one of Yeats' most famous poems, and one of his goofiest.  He seems to denigrate life, vitality, and vivacity in favor of art: gold mosaics, hammered gold, and gold enameling.  He almost sounds like an early Trump with with gold Oval Office.  Give my 'the young in one another's arms, the birds in the trees.'  But I do react to 'That is no country for old men"  and to "An aged man is but a paltry thing, A tattered coat upon a stick".

It ought to be lovely to be old

to be full of the peace that comes of experience

and wrinkled ripe fulfilment.

The wrinkled smile of completeness that follows a life

lived undaunted and unsoured with accepted lies

they would ripen like apples, and be scented like pippins

in their old age.

Soothing, old people should be, like apples

when one is tired of love.

Fragrant like yellowing leaves, and dim with the soft

stillness and satisfaction of autumn.

And a girl should say:

It must be wonderful to live and grow old.

Look at my mother, how rich and still she is! -

And a young man should think: By Jove

my father has faced all weathers, but it's been a life!

Beautiful Old Age, by D. H. Lawrence.  We must wonder what Lawrence had in mind when he wrote this poem and titled it as he did, but predicated all that followed on the first four words: "It ought to be . . ."  Is this poem, seeming to praise and take delight in old age, just a bit of snidery or sarcasm?  A recognition that old age is usually anything but what he suggests it ought to be?  'A girl should say . . .' and 'a young man should think . . .'  He wrote in the subjunctive mood, expressing a condition contrary to fact.  A curious poem.

The snow is so beautiful, but so dangerous for old timers, both human and vegetative.  The pine tree in front of the tall spruce was badly damaged last year by a snowstorm and had to be severely cut back.  My fear is that this first and early winter storm may result in its being hewn next Spring, or before.  To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:  A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted . . . 

Basement flooring was delivered this afternoon.

An interesting blurb from a journal entry last year on this date: 

“I’m most worried that this country is not what I thought it was, but someplace much more cruel and nasty and selfish,” wrote Ruth Marcus, one of The Post opinion section’s lead political commentators, after Trump’s reelection. She echoed a sentiment expressed by other pundits, and many ordinary Americans.