There’s a certain amount of accuracy in the old saying “Truth is stranger than fiction.”  Every professional writer also knows, whether he or she will admit it or not, that the best fiction is far more “true” to life than life is.  Seemingly “impossible” coincidences and occurrences happen in life.  Almost everyone knows of one or has experienced it, but, especially if it’s a happy or fortunate one, it won’t ring true in fiction.

Is that because, at heart, we all know that impossible doesn’t happen most of the time? There’s a rule of thumb in writing that the only kind of coincidence or improbable happening that will work is one that goes against the protagonist… and even that’s iffy.

The word “fiction” comes from a form of the Latin verb “fingo,” meaning to fix or make, but, in Latin, there was usually a connotation of falsity attached to its use, such as putting on a brave face, and even a statue was an “imago fictum,” a made image, if you will. So how has fiction, or at least “serious” fiction, come to the point where it has to be, if you will, truer than true, or seeming to be more true to life than life is?

For that matter, why is “uplifting” fiction seldom considered “great” literature?  Does fiction have to be depressing, with a dark ending, to be considered “great”… or is it just the critics who think so?

Then, the other day, I ran across a forum entitled something like “Worst/Most Overrated Books.”  I couldn’t help myself – sometimes I do have a morbid streak – and I read through the entries.  I was amazed, because only two of the entries I read described what I would have thought were really “bad” books.  Interestingly enough, both those entries came from librarians.  Almost all the complaints were about books that someone, and sometimes, lots of someones and critics, had suggested were good books, books by people like J.D. Salinger, Ian M. Banks, Orson Scott Card, Stephen R. Donaldson, Ernest Hemingway, Victor Hugo, Nathaniel Hawthorne, John Steinbeck, and a number of others. Two entries even mentioned the Bible and Shakespeare as vastly overrated.  Even the very worst works by any of these writers are vastly superior to much of the true garbage being published today… and yet… why do readers pick on what they think of as the weakest work of good writers?  Because those works don’t meet the readers’ expectations?

And how many of those expectations come from the readers’ perceptions of what “reality” is and by how much the writer fails to portray the “reality” the reader wants?

Of course, if that’s so, it does suggest that most “professional” critics either lead pretty dismal lives or have a rather poor opinion of life and the world in general.

There’s more than one kind of wisdom.  One way of classifying wisdom is by category: what to do; how to do it; when to do it.  But there’s also the other side:  What NOT to do [i.e., bad idea]; how not to do it [i.e., bad implementation of a good idea]; and when not to do anything [i.e., when to leave well enough alone].

One of the biggest problems in politics today is the fixity with which both politicians and voters hold their ideas.  Those on the far right insist that cutting taxes and spending is always the right thing to do, while those on the far left are all for the opposite. At times, each has been correct, but it’s not just knowing what to do.  It’s knowing how and when to do it… and when to leave well enough alone.  Yet the ideologues insist that there’s only one “right” answer, and that, essentially, it’s right all the time.

There’s also the tinkerer’s philosophy:  If one idea doesn’t work, try something else. That’s even before asking whether the implementation or the timing was good. Unfortunately, while there are times when it works, it’s often corrupted into a version where even when things are going well, the tinkerers decide that they could be better if something else were tried.  I’ve seen all too many organizations, from government to education to private industry, where goals and missions and organizational structure changed so quickly that nothing was going to work.  What’s so often forgotten is that the larger the structure, just like a massive ocean liner, the longer it takes to change course.  Why?  Because any organization that has survived has developed practices and procedures that work.  They may not work as well as other practices, but because they do work in most cases and for most people, changing takes time and explanation, and Americans, in particular, are often far too impatient.

One of the ideas behind the American government is the idea that power must be shared, and that the party in power gets the chance to implement its ideas, and if they don’t work, then the people can vote them out. For most politicians, though, the idea of sharing anything is a total anathema. Congressional districts need to be gerrymandered so that the seat always remains with one party.  Political appointees of the other party must be kept from their positions to which they have been appointed by a president of the other party, no matter what.  By using a “hold,” a single senator can keep a nomination from ever even being voted on by the Senate, yet, so far as I can tell, that particular procedure appears nowhere in the Senate parliamentary procedures.

What’s almost fatally amusing about this is that over the past generation, neither party has been exactly either effective at improving government or the living conditions of anyone but the wealthy, and yet each holds to both its ideas and as much power as it can, claiming that if it only had more seats and power, it would fix things.  If asked exactly how, each side falls back on generalities, and when the few politicians who actually want to do something come up with specifics, such as adding a year to the retirement age some ten years from now, or eliminating tax subsidies for billion dollar corporations with record profits, or suggesting spending federal funds on concrete improvements in infrastructure, the entire political system turns on them.

Looking at it from where I sit, it seems as though most people aren’t happy with things as they are, but they’re even less happy with anyone who wants to change things, and when they do want change, they want it their way, or no way at all… and that’s no way to make things better, at least not in a representative democratic republic.

Before and during the holiday season, we were inundated with supplications from various charities, especially the ones to whom we’ve given in the past. We’ve managed to gently request that most of them stop calling – which has to be done on a charity by charity basis, because they’re exempt from the blanket provisions of the “do not call” list – and we’ve also informed them that we will not EVER pledge or respond to telecommunications requests for funds.  Even so, the postal and internet supplications continue ad infinitum… or so it seems.

No matter what one gives, it’s never enough. There are more homeless orphans, political prisoners, third world inhabitants needing medical care, starving refugees, endangered species, abandoned and homeless pets… the list and the needs are truly endless.  I understand that.

What drives me up the wall is that many of those charities and causes in which I believe and which I support seem to increase their petitions – even though my wife and I only give to them once each year and request that they not bother us more than once each year.  Now… I know that almost all fundraisers are taught to “develop” their clientele and press for more funds from those whose donations show they are sympathetic.  For what it’s worth, I’ve served notice that pestering us for more support is more likely to get them less… and that other worthy and less obnoxious causes may well get what they used to receive.

There’s also the question of “gratitude.”  One state university with which my wife and I are acquainted has adopted a de facto policy of not acknowledging “small” contributions, those under $1,000.  Apparently, the development office can’t be bothered.  Interestingly enough, the small “Ivy League” college from which I graduated responds to donations of any size with not only a receipt, but a personal letter, often with a hand-penned personal notation, to donations of any size – and in the early years after my graduation, some of my contributions were modest indeed.  Just guess which institution has been more successful in raising funds, and has an alumni participation rate of over 70%.

In her time as the head of several local non-profit arts/music organizations, my wife has had to raise funds, and she made it a policy to hand-write thank-yous to every single donor.  In every case, the organization was in debt when she took over, and in every case, the number of donors rose, and she turned it over to her successor with a healthy surplus.  She’s adopted a similar policy as the chair of a national educational music association… and again the outcome of recognizing donors has resulted in a significant and healthy increase in donations and support.

Yes, in economic hard-times, people often cannot contribute as much or as often as once they may have, even though the needs are often greater, but those who give don’t like to be pestered and guilt-tripped, and they would like a little personal recognition for their concern and generosity.

It’s something to think about anyway.

What is morality?  Or ethics?  The simple answer is “doing the right thing.”  But the simple answer merely substitutes one definition for another, unless one can come up with a description or definition of what “right” or “ethical” or “moral” might be.  A few days ago, a reader (and writer) asked what would seem to many to be an absurdly abhorrent question along the lines of, “If morality represents what is best for a culture or society, then isn’t what maximizes that society’s survival moral, and under those circumstances, why would a society that used death camps [like the Nazis] be immoral?”

Abhorrent as this type of question is, it raises a valid series of points.  The first question, to my way of thinking, is whether ethics [or morality] exist as an absolute or whether all ethics are relative.  As I argued in The Ethos Effect, I believe that in any given situation there is an absolutely objectively correct moral way of acting, but the problem is that in a universe filled with infinite combinations of individuals and events, one cannot aggregate those individual moral “absolutes” into a relatively simple and practical moral code or set of laws because every situation is different.  Thus, in practice, a moral code has to be simplified and relative to something. And relativity can be used to justify almost anything.

Taking, however, that survival on some level has a moral value, can a so-called “death camp” society ever be moral?  I’d say no, for several reasons.  If survival is a moral imperative, the first issue is on what level it is a moral imperative.  If one says individual survival is paramount, taken admittedly to the point of absurdity, in theory, that would give the individual the right to destroy anyone or anything that might be a threat. Under those circumstances, there is not only no morality, but no need of it, because that individual recognizes no constraints on his or her actions.  But what about group or tribal survival?  Is a tribe or country that uses ethnic cleansing or death camps being “moral” – relative to survival of that group?

Again… I’d say no, even if I agreed with the postulate that survival trumps everything, because tactics/practices that enhance one group’s survival by the forced elimination or reduction of others within that society, particularly if the elimination of other individuals is based on whether those eliminated possess certain genetic characteristics, or fail to possess them, is almost always likely to reduce the genetic variability of the species and thus run counter to species survival, since a limited genetic pool makes a species more vulnerable to disease or even the effects of other global or universal factors from climate change to all manner of environmental changes.  Furthermore, use of “ethic cleansing” puts an extraordinary premium on physical/military power or other forms of control, and while that control may, in effect, represent cultural/genetic “superiority” in the short run, or in a specific geographic area, it may actually be counter-productive, as it was for the Third Reich, when much of the rest of the world decided they’d had enough.  Or it may result in the stagnation of the entire culture, which is also not in the interests of species survival.

The principal problem with a situation such as that created by the Third Reich and others [where so-called “ethic cleansing” is or has been practiced] is that such a “solution” is actually counter to species survival.  The so-called Nazi-ideal was a human phenotype of a very narrow physical range and the admitted goal was to reduce or eliminate all other types as “inferior.”  While there’s almost universal agreement that all other types of human beings were not inferior, even had they been so, eliminating them would have been immoral if the highest morality in fact is species survival.

Over the primate/human history various characteristics and capabilities have evolved and proved useful at different times and differing climes.  The stocky body type and small-group culture of the Neanderthals proved well-suited to pre-glacial times, but did not survive massive climate shift. For various reasons, other human types also did not survive. As a side note, the Tasmanian Devil is now threatened by extinction, not by human beings, but because the genetics of all existing Tasmanian Devils is so alike that all of them are susceptible to a virulent cancer – an example of what could happen when all members of a species become too similar… or “racially pure.”

Thus, at least from my point of view, if we’re talking about survival as a moral imperative, that survival has to be predicated on long-term species survival, not on individual survival or survival/superiority of one political or cultural subgroup.

For the past several months, an almost continual simmering issue at City Council meetings here in Cedar City has been over the new aquatic center.  First, there were the charges and countercharges over the cost overruns, and although most people eventually conceded that the additional work was necessary, there was great debate over the price tags.  Then came the continuing arguments over the operating costs, which most likely resulted in two incumbent city council members being defeated in the municipal election and the third whose term was up not even running for re-election.  At present, revenues only cover a bit more than sixty percent of the operating costs, and all three of the newly elected councilmen declare that the center should be self-sustaining.

Right!  A survey by one of the state new organizations discovered that not a single aquatic center in all of Utah had revenues that covered its costs.  One managed to recover almost eighty percent of its annual operating costs, and one only managed about fifty percent, and all the rest fell in between.  Why?  Because, like it or not, the people who use aquatic facilities are predominantly either families or seniors, and the majority of both have limited funds.  Increasing fees drops the number using the facility, and if fees are considered too high for the local community, total revenue drops even with increased per capita fees.  Add to that the fact that Cedar City is a rural university town located in a county with the lowest family income in the state, and the potential for raising fees is pretty limited.

This debate raises the eternal question about publicly funded projects.  Which are justified and which are boondoggles?  Comparatively, very few people seem to complain about public park budgets, for which no out-of-pocket fees are ever collected, but many would say that’s because they’re open to everyone.  Open, yes, but I have to say that although we have good parks here, and I’m for them, and for my tax money being used for them, I’ve set foot in them only twice in the eighteen years I’ve lived here.  I’m for them, and for the aquatic center, because they make the community a better place.  I’m also for them because I’ve lived all over the USA, and I can see that the tax levels here are low, most probably too low, and the local politicians certainly aren’t spendthrifts with the public money.  Sometimes, though, they’re idiots.

Cedar City is home to the Utah Shakespeare Festival, a good regional theatre [it won a Tony some ten years ago as one of the best regional theatres in the United States] based largely on the campus of Southern Utah University.  Founded some fifty years ago, it’s grown from a three-day event to almost a half-year full repertory theatre.  The university, however, has also grown enormously over the past two decades, from around 3,000 students to over 8,000, and there’s really not enough theatre space for both the University theatre, dance, and music programs and the Festival.  The Festival professionals have recognized this, and for years have been working on an expansion plan that would make the Festival far less dependent on university facilities.  In order to obtain some state and foundation funding, the Festival requested a grant of two million dollars from the local RDA, controlled by the city council, in order to demonstrate the required local support.  Several council members objected, and the entire $20 million plus expansion project was threatened before reason finally prevailed.

Was that $2 million a boondoggle?  Scarcely.  Economic studies have shown that the Festival generates between thirty-five and forty million dollars annually for local businesses, and provided a great economic cushion for the town some thirty years ago when the iron mines closed, and that’s been with minimal economic support from the town. For fifty years the town has benefited from the University’s support of the Festival.  Yet the decreasing percentage level of state support for the University [and any higher education institution in Utah] and the need to raise student tuition to compensate has placed the University in a position where it can no longer be so generous to the Festival.  Despite the enormous economic benefit to the town from the Festival, some politicians would call a two million dollar grant a boondoggle.

A decade ago, local politicians decided the town needed a good local theatre, one independent of the educational institutions… and they built one that holds almost 1000 seats, with good acoustics and associated modest convention facilities.  As a consequence, Cedar City has been able to host events from traveling operas to American Idol vocalists and everything in between.  But once again, the new councilmen are demanding that the theatre make money… despite the fact that the previous director [who was forced out by the new council] came very close to doing so.  NO decent performance theatre in a town of 40,000 people can do that [a lot of Broadway theatres can’t, and they charge exorbitant rates, which isn’t possible here].  But what that “borderline” economic performance doesn’t show is the thousands of people who travel to Cedar City from nearby and sometimes not so nearby rural areas for those shows and other events, and the hundreds of thousands, if not millions of dollars they spend in town on those trips.  Nor does it count the food and lodging paid for by the performers [and when those performers include 100 member symphony orchestras, that’s not inconsequential].

Especially in rural areas like Iron County, whether a town or small city prospers or withers depends not just on low taxes, but also on the quality of life, and often a “good” quality of life can generate enormous economic benefits, which tend to flow back in tax and other indirect revenue sources.  Past management of the quality of life has led to Cedar City being named as an outstanding community for both families and retirees, but with the recent rise of Tea Party type politicians, there’s been a cry for lower taxes and spending, despite the fact that they’re already too low.  There’s a huge difference between managing public facilities well and concentrating on profit-loss figures from single facilities or projects as an indication of their community usefulness and “profitability.”

Yes… there are many public boondoggles, and I’ve seen all too many of them, but just because a public facility or expenditure doesn’t cover its operating costs directly doesn’t mean it’s a boondoggle… or that the town isn’t “profiting.”   And that’s something too many people and politicians fail to understand.