More Antique Roman than a Dane

HAMLET: What ho! Horatio!

 [Enter HORATIO]

HORATIO: Here, sweet lord, at your service.

HAMLET: Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man
 As e'er my conversation coped withal.

HORATIO: O, my dear lord,--

HAMLET:                   Nay, do not think I flatter;
 For what advancement may I hope from thee
 That no revenue hast but thy good spirits,
 To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd?
 No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,
 And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee
 Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?
 Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice
 And could of men distinguish, her election
 Hath seal'd thee for herself; for thou hast been
 As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing,
 A man that fortune's buffets and rewards
 Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are those
 Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled,
 That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger
 To sound what stop she please. Give me that man
 That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
 In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,
 As I do thee.--Something too much of this.--

(picture:  Delacroix)

"The dooms of men are in God's hidden place."

"Then Conchubar, the subtlest of all men,
Ranking his Druids round him ten by ten,
Spake thus: 'Cuchulain will dwell there and brood
For three days more in dreadful quietude,
And then arise, and raving slay us all.
Chaunt in his ear delusions magical,
That he may fight the horses of the sea.'
The Druids took them to their mystery,
And chaunted for three days.
                                               Cuchulain stirred,
Stared on the horses of the sea, and heard
The cars of battle and his own name cried;
And fought with the invulnerable tide."
--Yeats (1893)

(When the brain is tired, poetry can be a good balm.  Just posted final grades, and now I'm fielding the inevitable "questions.")


(picture:  Cuchulain depicted in the Gundestrup Cauldren)

Best get cracking on a couple of these.

“A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.”
-Robert A. Heinlein

Announcement

message heard, loud & clear.

From a Monday of Grading

The following statements strike me as sentiments that came from secondary sources, and I'll bet that if I were to ask the students what these sentences mean, I'd get blank stares:

"His lyrics have a mixture of Cavalier grace, with metaphysical wit, and complexity."


"writers like Pope carefully cultivated a style that would achieve the maximum of clarity, precision, and energy."


"he attacked people's most prominent bad habits, and he made the abstract concrete."


"This allegorical poem was not published until 1596 and it is the longest and most important poem in the English language."

Bittersweet:  time to say goodbye to some students I've known for a long time.

It's not the armor; it's the person wearing it.

Only two people out of a class of 30+ have correctly identified what a "Carpe Diem" poem is all about (i.e., "seize the day" by "seizing me.")  They all want it to be inspiring and high-minded and Dead Poets Society and stuff.  Don't want to talk about sex on an exam, I guess.  Can't blame them.

I love reading a self-aware, conversational exam.  Of course, that's what got me in trouble on my MA exam, for "flippancy."

I could use a cup of that wine.  Without Iocane Powder, plz.

Nuggets of wisdom . . .

...from final exams I'm grading:

"he finally discovers that happiness where [sic] you make it, it can't be found."

"The ultimate aim of erotic love is not to actually hold possession of love, bit it is to be loved.  Desire and erroticism play into effect because erotic love is purely sexual or desirable.  A person wants to feel needed and have a reasons for excitment.  Erotic love is a game to the heart, just a god time."

"Sidney did not agree, he wanted people to pleasure themselves in rations and to truely love someone."

"The fear of striking out shouldn't keep you from the game."

"pretty people should make babies for us to coo at rather than wasting their youth!"

Byzantium

"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."

(Yeats, 1828)

Indicators

I've been in a lot of meetings.

I've got a lot of grading to do.

LOL, ecommerce

I love the name of this bike shop, and I love the fact that this is an online store devoted to one component of one class of bicycle.

These Gravitas brakes do look bad-ass.

Perhaps there's a connection?

I played Resident Evil last night, seeing as I was alone at the house and could deal out carnage at will.

And then my dreams were violent and scary.  I barely got away with my life!  Seriously.

Dusting.

I read today about "student incivility" being aimed at young and female professors, mostly.  Really?  I had no idea!  Imagine that!  In other news, I tend to not get exercised about "incivility" . . . people are going to be rude when they feel like they have something to gain from it.  Plus, excessive concern (or faux-concern) about "civility" often leads to nasty things like speech codes and abrogations of First Amendment Rights. 

I wonder how old I look, really.  Do I look ridiculous on days like today, when I'm in jeans, t-shirt, & chucks?

Then again, who gives a crap?










Is it possibly because there's no political angle that the Nashville flood is getting relatively zero nationwide media coverage?  I was at a lunch yesterday and heard some things that made my hair stand on end.

I would get distressed if it weren't such a common occurrence:  I read a stack of papers that would be pretty good, if it were only the case that the students had paid attention to revising/proofreading.  Alas.

Ah, Facebook.  Every day I'm getting close to delete-y on you.  The only reason I'm sticking with you is that I don't want to lose touch with all the people.  I've done that too much in my life as it is.

Yeah, you heard me right.  I know, I know, I'm a pessimist, but still:  I think there's something to the notion that much of my life has been characterized by loss of those I care about.

Ink-stained

It's gotten to that point in the term, where my professional obligations boil down to two things:

a.  grade student papers
b.  write.  Write scholarly material.  Write exams.  Write comments on papers.  Write letters that I've been putting off "until the term is over."

here I sit, putting it all off--of course.  On the upside, my office is getting cleaner!

Don't read this one.

subtitle:  caught between heaven and hell.

Self-love. -- The nature of self-love and of this human Ego is to love self only and consider self only. But what will man do? He cannot prevent this object that he loves from being full of faults and wants. He wants to be great, and he sees himself small. He wants to be happy, and he sees himself miserable. He wants to be perfect, and he sees himself full of imperfections. He wants to be the object of love and esteem among men, and he sees that his faults merit only their hatred and contempt. This embarrassment in which he finds himself produces in him the most unrighteous and criminal passion that can be imagined; for he conceives a mortal enmity against that truth which reproves him and which convinces him of his faults. He would annihilate it, but, unable to destroy it in its essence, he destroys it as far as possible in his own knowledge and in that of others; that is to say, he devotes all his attention to hiding his faults both from others and from himself, and he cannot endure either that others should point them out to him, or that they should see them.

Truly it is an evil to be full of faults; but it is a still greater evil to be full of them and to be unwilling to recognise them, since that is to add the further fault of a voluntary illusion. We do not like others to deceive us; we do not think it fair that they should be held in higher esteem by us than they deserve; it is not, then, fair that we should deceive them and should wish them to esteem us more highly than we deserve.

Thus, when they discover only the imperfections and vices which we really have, it is plain they do us no wrong, since it is not they who cause them; they rather do us good, since they help us to free ourselves from an evil, namely, the ignorance of these imperfections. We ought not to be angry at their knowing our faults and despising us; it is but right that they should know us for what we are and should despise us, if we are contemptible.

Such are the feelings that would arise in a heart full of equity and justice. What must we say then of our own heart, when we see it in a wholly different disposition? For is it not true that we hate truth and those who tell it us, and that we like them to be deceived in our favour, and prefer to be esteemed by them as being other than what we are in fact? 

 .  .  .  

How unjust and unreasonable is the heart of man, which feels it disagreeable to be obliged to do in regard to one man what in some measure it were right to do to all men! For is it right that we should deceive men?

There are different degrees in this aversion to truth; but all may perhaps be said to have it in some degree, because it is inseparable from self-love. It is this false delicacy which makes those who are under the necessity of reproving others choose so many windings and middle courses to avoid offence. They must lessen our faults, appear to excuse them, intersperse praises and evidence of love and esteem. Despite all this, the medicine does not cease to be bitter to self-love. It takes as little as it can, always with disgust, and often with a secret spite against those who administer it.

Hence it happens that, if any have some interest in being loved by us, they are averse to render us a service which they know to be disagreeable. They treat us as we wish to be treated. We hate the truth, and they hide it from us. We desire flattery, and they flatter us. We like to be deceived, and they deceive us.

So each degree of good fortune which raises us in the world removes us farther from truth, because we are most afraid of wounding those whose affection is most useful and whose dislike is most dangerous. A prince may be the byword of all Europe, and he alone will know nothing of it. I am not astonished. To tell the truth is useful to those to whom it is spoken, but disadvantageous to those who tell it, because it makes them disliked. Now those who live with princes love their own interests more than that of the prince whom they serve; and so they take care not to confer on him a benefit so as to injure themselves.
This evil is no doubt greater and more common among the higher classes; but the lower are not exempt from it, since there is always some advantage in making men love us. Human life is thus only a perpetual illusion; men deceive and flatter each other. No one speaks of us in our presence as he does of us in our absence. Human society is founded on mutual deceit; few friendships would endure if each knew what his friend said of him in his absence, although he then spoke in sincerity and without passion.

Man is, then, only disguise, falsehood, and hypocrisy, both in himself and in regard to others. He does not wish any one to tell him the truth; he avoids telling it to others, and all these dispositions, so removed from justice and reason, have a natural root in his heart.

Pascal, Pensees 100

One less thing to worry about.

how about that.  I'm done with those payments.

Anything I say

 . . . will be held against me,
so I won't say much or I'll spill it all.
By the light of day it's an elusive feeling,
but every single night that's immaterial.

 . . . . . .

If I try to pray, it's like a game of red rover.
I take a real good run at it, but I can't break through.
Don't matter anyway. I'm so redhanded.
The game is over. I'll just tell the truth.

(Detweiler) 

Past is prologue

Consider this a representation of me and my three sons in the next couple of decades.  From the left:
Piers, Vulcan Beebee, Big Brother, and . . . Little Red, of course. 

Speaking of whom, he had a really rough night last night.  Poor guy couldn't breathe!  The Spouse had to give him not one but two breathing treatments, at something like 12:30 and 3:00 this morning. 

Vulcan Beebee came and visited me in my office today . . . caused a stir amongst my co-workers, and got held by CR, a remarkable young woman who's one of our student workers.  He kindly dropped off to sleep so I could keep grading papers.

Big Brother is being a great big brother; he and Little Red play outside and do really well together--the elder is really good at coming up with games for them to play.  Though I will say that on Sunday, I guess it was, we heard the two of them shouting, and when I went outside to find out what the big deal was, Big Brother was getting mad at Little Red . . . for coming to tell us that Big Brother had hit him on the noggin.  One of those times you discipline while choking back the laughter.

Button that lip!

"I take it as self-evident that, if everyone knew what was said about him, there would not be four friends in the world.  This is clear from the quarrels which are occasioned by the indiscreet remarks which we sometimes make."

**

"King, and tyrant--

I too will have thoughts at the back of my mind--

I will beware of every journey."

Pascal, Pensees 646, 650

Adventures with Students, vol. 15

I told the students in my class today, impromptu-like, that they need to consider carefully before they step off into the world of graduate study.  This was after I asked them to think about whether or not professors are normal people, and after I did an imitation of RB starting that Milton class several years ago on the bottom floor of Greenlaw.  The discussion ranged wide, but essentially, I advised them to keep their wits about them and to keep their options open.  Grad school can be a good thing, but even the best students aren't sure of where (or if) they'll land.

The end of the term is when classes begin to get a little loose in the joints, and also when the really strange requests start coming in, like the student who has missed 70% of the class meetings just now trying to explain that he had good reasons for being gone, like taking a job that conflicted with class time, etc., etc.  I sympathize, I really do--but what goes unsaid for now is that they need to choose which is more important.  If the work & money are important, then pursue that.  If doing well in classes is more important, then pursue that.  There are times that it's not possible to do both.

I wish that students would give term papers some thought before the week they are due.  Not for my sake, honestly--I don't mind helping--but because it would be so much easier and turn out so much better for them.

I did tell the students this, too:  that my interactions with them, dealing with the works we get to deal with, is the major payoff.  So true.  Sure as hell ain't the meetings.

$ <==|==> F

Student in (I say "in," though it should be "from," given his attendance) my 11:00 MWF class strolls into the office, hands me the paper due today.  Says the following:


"I'm sorry I've been missing class.  I took a job that means I have to work all day Monday, Wednesday and Friday."  

Let's think about that for just a moment, k? 

At least he's polite about it!

Literary Hero!

An interview with the incomparable Jorge Luis Borges in Philosophy and Literature 1 (1977): 337-41.

snip:

Lawrence I. Berkove: “Tlön” is a good example of one of your stories where, however the story ends, the reader is encouraged to continue applying your ideas.

Borges: Well, I hope so. But I wonder if they are my ideas. Because really I am not a thinker. I have used the philosophers’ ideas for my own private literary purposes, but I don’t think that I’m a thinker. I suppose that my thinking has been done for me by Berkeley, by Hume, by Schopenhauer, by Mauthner perhaps.

MP-R: You say you’re not a thinker…

Borges: No, what I mean to say is that I have no personal system of philosophy. I never attempt to do that. I am merely a man of letters. In the same way, for example that — well, of course, I shouldn’t perhaps choose this as an example — in the same way that Dante used theology for the purpose of poetry, or Milton used theology for the purposes of his poetry, why shouldn’t I use philosophy, especially idealistic philosophy — philosophy to which I was attracted — for the purposes of writing a tale, of writing a story? I suppose that is allowable, no?

From today's reading

"Tolstoy's ardent strides toward perfection never resulted in any semblance of peace or serenity.  Up to the moment of his death the diaries and letters kept circling back to the rueful theme of failure, exposing the vast gap between the high ideals of the gospel and the sad actuality of his own life."

"Tolstoy reminds us that, contrary to those who say the gospel solves our problems, in many areas--justice issues, money issues, race issues, personal issues of pride and ambition--the gospel actually adds to our burdens."

I'd add a few items to that list, Mr. Yancey, but the point is a good one. 

N. B.: I'm no author, and certainly no Russian author!

It's been that kind of weekend.

busy children = sleeping like a train wreck

There's a simple explanation

why do people share so many intimate details online?  Don't they know better?

Sure:  but the desire to feel like we matter trumps every other consideration.

So much for perspective.

Piers became "puff-tail kitty" when the report of Big Brother's pre-K test came back.  Not that there was anything wrong with his performance--he did perfectly fine, and really:  what does one expect from an introverted 5-year-old, hmmmm?

But Piers did indeed get a bit hissy.   The Spouse had to talk him down and help get that fur all smoothed back in place. 

I guess we now know who'll more frequently be  dealing with the teachers.

pre-K

Big Brother has Kindergarten Placement Testing today.  We did not do any practicing, or even tell him what he's doing.  We're not going to post on Facebook how wonderfully he does.  We're going to let him treat it like something fun, and that's the sum total of it. 

Still, it's a bit of a big moment for our little (?) family.

"Hip," "gritty," "food"

This article in the NYTIMES "Dining" section has the following as a pull-quote (in the print edition I have before me):

"The Food Network spins off a channel with a hipper, grittier attitude."

um.  Riiiiiiiiggghhhht.  "Hip" and "gritty" food programs.  Because we all like grit in our cheezburgrs.

Phrase of the day

Amour-propre.

I uttered something this morning that I think sums up a lot of what I've been experiencing/thinking:  it's the shame and guilt that does the worst damage.  My changed perspective is that people make choices and indeed have to live with the outcomes of those choices--whatever the outcomes may be, it's the added burden of shame that breaks them, drags them under.

Eyjafjallajokul

The stupidest thing I've heard about the Iceland volcano eruption:  a news item on NBC a couple of days ago that attempted to explain its effect on "Man-made Global Warming." 

Let's just think about that for one moment, shall we?

It's like Home Depot selling "Earth-Friendly Vegetables." 

Boxer the Horse

From childhood onwards people are entrusted with the care of their honor, their property, their friends, and even with the property of their friends.  They are showered with duties, the need to learn languages and exercises.  They are led to believe that they will never be happy if their health, honor, and wealth, and those of their friends, are not in a satisfactory state, and that if one element is amiss they will be unhappy.  So they are given offices and duties which keep them hectically occupied from daybreak.  You may well observe that it is an odd way to make them happy.  What more could we do to make them unhappy?  What do you mean, what could we do?  We would only have to remove all these preoccupations from them because they would then see and think about what they are, where they come from, where they are going.  So you cannot give them too much to do, too much to distract them, and that is why, after creating so many duties for them, if they have some spare time they are advised to amuse themselves, play games, keep themselves totally occupied--

(Pascal, Pensees 171)

two months old

and showing a little personality.  Even a little bit of cooing and laughing going on!

grass clippings

It's a good thing we don't have these in the house; for some reason, last night I had a MASSIVE craving and would have eaten several pounds of the things if I'd been able to.

This was after watching Into The Woods at The Dixie; Brother B's last production with some of his first big stars:  JM, MM, AH.  I've seen just about every show they've done over the past four years, so it's a little bittersweet even for me to see them take their last bows.

And that was after spending the better part of the afternoon working on the yard.  Once it gets going, it really takes up the time.  But it looks so nice when it's mowed & pruned, etc.!

Also, Kung Fu Panda is hilarious.  It's the new favorite amongst the preschoolers in this house.

When Little Red Becomes Big

the hair, the baggy eyes, the wide mouth . . . it's there, I tell you.

Probably not as tall, and probably without the movie career (and attendant cash money), but still.

rounding up a few stragglers

"It is unfair that anyone should be devoted to me, although it can happen with pleasure, and freely.  I should mislead those in whom I quickened this feeling, because I am no one's ultimate end, and cannot satisfy them.  Am I not near death?  So the object of their attachment will die.  Therefore just as I should be guilty if I caused a falsehood to be believed, however gently persuasive I had been and however pleasurably it had been believed, giving me pleasure too, in the same way I am guilty if I make myself loved and if I attract people to become devoted to me."
--Pascal, Pensees 15


I have a student who has missed probably four weeks of class; he is now explaining that there are some personal and family issues in play here.  Sigh.  You know how tired this makes me?  To his credit, he has submitted all the written assignments.  Still, if attendance is mandatory, it's mandatory.  argh.


White pants can be stylish, when worn with care (no, Piers has no white pants, and isn't likely to).  The thing is, really tight white pants on a person well on the far side of "buxom" . . . um, perhaps another option, yes?  The same goes for those t-shirts that are screen printed with character faces (Spongebob, Elmo, Cookie Monster).  Probably ought not be worn in sizes above XL.


I read some nice things about myself today.  Actually, I think they said less about me and more about the students that wrote the comments, but still.  It's good to have a reminder that my efforts are not utterly in vain.


There was a Really Important Meeting about our ORP (Optional Retirement Plan) today.  We were all urged to attend.  I chose to not attend, being engrossed in my own work, and knowing that whatever is said today will change sometime within the next five years--thereby making today's meeting entirely irrelevant for those of us who have only been here five years.


I really like it when my students are successful. 

Things that are awesome, Vol. 15

The Coudal Partners T

seriously, an incredibly comfortable t-shirt.

I'm also fond of the cheeky shirts from Cottonfactory and woot (the latter also quite comfy).

I know there are zillions of cheeky t-shirt makers out there, and sometimes said shirts show up even at Wal-Mart, but I'm only speaking of t-shirts of which I have first hand experience.

So there you go. 

From the words of my master

Aye, and for this neglect, the coarser sort

Of earthen jars there may molest me too.

Well, with mine own frail pitcher, what to do

I have decreed:  keep it from waves, and press,

Lest it be jostled, cracked, made nought or less;

Live to that point I will for which I am man,

And dwell as in my center as I can,

Still looking to and ever loving heaven,

With reverence using all the gifts thence given;

'Mongst which, if I have any friendships sent,

Such as are square, well-tagged, and permanent,

Not built with canvas, paper, and false lights

As are the glorious scenes at the great sights,

And that there be no fev'ry heats nor colds,

Oily expansions, or shrunk dirty folds,

But all so clear, and lead by reason's flame,

As but to stumble in her sight were shame;

These I will honor, love, embrace, and serve,

And free it from all question to preserve.

So short you read my character, and theirs

I would call mine, to which not many stairs

Are asked to climb.  First give me faith, who know

Myself a little; I will take you so

As you have writ yourself.

(Ben Jonson, "An Epistle Answering to One that Asked to be Sealed of the Tribe of Ben")

**
I know, I know:  "Sir, I know Teddy Roosevelt.  Teddy Roosevelt is a good friend of mine.  And you, sir, are no Teddy Roosevelt."  fair enough.   Hell, I'm no Ben Jonson either.

In which Piers needs to get some exercise

It would probably help if I got this bum elbow looked at, and if I could breathe properly.  But still. 

Keeping counsel 4

Even if all the brilliant minds of the ages focused their attention on this one subject, never could they sufficiently express their wonder at this blind spot in the human mind.  Men do not allow anyone to take possession of their estates, and, if there is the slightest dispute about the limit of their property, they rush to pick up stones and weapons:  but they allow others to make inroads into their life, even extending personal invitations to those who will one day possess it.  No one is found who would be willing to divide up his own money:  but when it comes to his life, each one of us gives others a share in it, and how many others!
...
No one will restore your years, no none will restore you once more to yourself.

--Seneca, "On the Shortness of Life"

gut-check time

"It won't happen here."
"They wouldn't!  They couldn't!"

To paraphrase Mr. Bennett:  "you believe that, Lizzy--if it brings you comfort."

I recognize that it's in the interest of the system president to exaggerate the negative impact of budget cuts--but this curdles the blood.  Once they start talking about faculty jobs being on the chopping block, uh oh.

Around here, it will be non-replacement of retiring faculty--but who knows what that will leave us with in a few years?

This ain't the time to be getting into higher education, friends.  Look at other options if you got them.  If you don't, start developing some.  I'm serious.  Practical skills, especially (Read Matt Crawford's book if you want an "intellectual" rationale).

Yardening, 2010 Edition, Volume 1

Today will be the first real planting day of the season.  Above and below, pictures of the lilac just outside the back door.  This is the first year in the five at Hawks Road that it has really produced masses of blooms (it looked so bad when we first arrived in '05 that we nearly cut the thing down).  Don't know if I should take credit for it or not, but I'm pleased with it this year.  And the scent!

Later today:  tomatoes and peppers and other edibles go in the ground; forsythia, creeping phlox, knockout roses and azaleas to follow in various key locations.

Now, if only I could get over the incredibly bad allergic reaction I've been having to all this pollen.  Someone get this man some Nasonex!

I'm not a prophet, promise.

But I will point out that I've already said publicly that one of the markers of conflict when there's a  status & power differential between two parties in a conflict is that the powerful party tends to be the one constantly calling for  "civility" and "restraint"--on the part of the critics:

The congresswoman told the audience she shared their frustration over jobs lost and economic hardships.

She also asked for civility and drew a parallel between outbursts on the floor of Congress and in the meeting at Londonderry Town Hall.

"It is disappointing," she said. "Can we disagree without personal attacks?"

I don't know Carol Shea-Porter from Adam's Housecat, and apart from my general antipathy toward members of our governing body, I don't have anything against her. I just couldn't help but remark on her cry for civility, since it appears to be in line with what I've previously asserted.

Keeping counsel 3

"You need to reflect whether your nature is more suited to participation in affairs or to leisurely study and contemplation, and you need to turn to that course to which the force of your natural ability shall guide you:  Isocrates laid his hand on Ephorus' shoulder and led him away from the forum, thinking he would be more of use in writing the records of history.  Natural abilities do not respond well to compulsion; when Nature is in opposition, labour is fruitless."
--Seneca, "On the Tranquility of the Mind"

(I dispute his characterization of study as "leisurely")

Introversion is not a sickness or a problem or a crime.

If it makes you uncomfortable that I'm quiet and withdrawn, that I sometimes don't say anything,  you're welcome to go find someone who talks all the time . . . I promise, I won't mind.

And no, this doesn't mean that I don't like people.

Actually, acknowledging and embracing our nature as introverts may open the door for better interactions with other people. If we don't expend our limited energy for socializing on unsatisfying interactions, we can put it to better use.

Greek Stoic.

Proof Positive

Look closely, if you can read backward.
I can't decide if I like using the full & initialed form of my name.

I was reminded of this today

Joy, I did lock thee up: but some bad man

Hath let thee out again:
And now, me thinks, I am where I began

Sev’n yeares ago: one vogue and vein,

One aire of thoughts usurps my brain.
I did toward Canaan draw; but now I am
Brought back to the Red sea, the sea of shame.

For as the Jews of old by Gods command

Travell’d, and saw no town:

So now each Christian hath his journeys spann’d:

Their storie pennes and sets us down.

A single deed is small renown.
Gods works are wide, and let in future times;
His ancient justice overflows our crimes.

Then have we too our guardian fires and clouds;

Our Scripture-dew drops fast:
We have our sands and serpents, tents and shrowds;

Alas! our murmurings come not last.

But where’s the cluster? where’s the taste

Of mine inheritance? Lord, if I must borrow,
Let me as well take up their joy, as sorrow.

But can he want the grape, who hath the wine?

I have their fruit and more.
Blessed be God, who prosper’d Noahs vine,

And made it bring forth grapes good store.

But much more him I must adore,
Who of the laws sowre juice sweet wine did make,
Ev’n God himself, being pressed for my sake. 

George Herbert, "The Bunch of Grapes" (1633)

Keeping counsel 2

No one who goes astray affects himself alone, but rather will be the cause and instigator of someone else going astray; it is harmful to attach oneself to the people in front, and, so long as each one of us prefers to trust someone else's judgement rather than relying on his own, we never exercise judgement in our lives but constantly resort to trust, and a mistake that has been passed down from one hand to another takes us over and spins our ruin.  It is the example of others that destroys us:  we will regain our health, if only we distance ourselves from the crowd.  But as things are, the people, defending their own wickedness, set themselves up against reason.

(Seneca, "On The Happy Life")

All you need to do is read what I've been reading

"The urge to save humanity is almost always the false face of the urge to rule it."
--H. L. Mencken