Artistic Rollercoaster of Confidence

It's been an interesting week.

A week ago today I put some extra time into playing the mandolin, as I work towards achieving a dream. By the end of the second day I really felt that there was some hope that I was going to be able to play a particular song through from start to finish, although it was going to take time and work. This was important to me because the song is the Battle March Medley, and at times I have called it the greatest piece of music I know. Essentially if I can play my favorite song to a standard where it sounds good I will have reached an important milestone in becoming what I think is a real musician. I was very encouraged.

By day three I was writing about how happy I was that there was sunshine and I was happy.

Day four had me becoming extremely angry at imagined slights.

Day six had me listening to music through the most fabulous invention ever, MP3 and ear buds makes the greatest songs that have ever been produced play inside your head with essentially no physical clue as to the source. In this manner you can hear music as great artists hear it, simple the notes perfectly played inside your mind. Some of the music that I heard was so heart-wrenchingly beautiful that I despaired at ever being able to play anything that could be put in the same category. I was just a duffer, an amateur without much talent, someone whose performance was more like those of a children's play where any applause is the polite reaction to an incompetent trying hard.

Day seven had my mind slightly bruised, like a body after extreme physical exercise. I wanted boring and easy and uninspired. I knew that the previous week had simply been a case of my mental weather, moods like cold and warm fronts passing through the landscape of my consciousness. Even at the time I knew that anything I was feeling was simply temporary, that it too would pass, whether for good or ill.

Today I will pick up the mandolin again, but right now I have no idea if I can actually play it or whether it has all been some sort of sham.

Sunshine.

As I was walking along the sun-baked sandy ground of Elizabeth Myers Park this morning I thought of the words of an old hymn, In the Bleak Midwinter. After a brief muse about how myths happen (the hymn is about Jesus being born in a stable all surrounded by snow and frozen cold, we don't know when Jesus was born but we can be pretty sure it wasn't in feet of snow in Israel) I looked around to see limpid pools of golden sunlight dappling the verdant trees. It was beautiful.

It was beautiful, and I was happy.

No weight on my soul, no worry in my head, no dream unfulfilled.

There must be people who feel like this on a regular basis, that without any particular difficulty they feel good. It is a very nice thing indeed that there are such people.

Now I am going to return to the park with my very spoiled dog, sit under a tree and work a little at learning The Battle March Medley on the mandolin.

Another Year in Surburban Texas.

So another year older, and what have you done? To somewhat plagiarize John Lennon. It's now been two years since Christina and I moved to the northern suburbs of Houston. Therefore I am taking a moment to take stock of the time.

Here is the first post on this blog about living in Houston. It's not very positive, is it? Well, I would say my opinions on the place, and the life I am living in it are not really very different. I am more comfortable in the place, in that I have adjusted to the situation, but the situation is essentially the same. I'm just treading water until the next thing, and I have discovered that it's not up to me to change it.

I tried meeting people, with little success. I tried starting bands, which failed. I joined a band, which I subsequently quit. It's now been a full week since I went anywhere but to a store or the park.

There is a pub that we go to where the people are generally nice to us. None of them I would say I could really call friends, but it's a place where I can have a nice time. It's big ass beer night tonight and I am really looking forward to riding our bikes there.

Life in a gilded cage. It's a hell of a lot better than life in a gutter.

Creeping Miracle

For essentially the same point I am making in a video, watch this.

Around the world life is being transformed at a break-neck pace, and almost universally for the better. On the other hand the majority of people are worried and concerned about the present, pessimistic about the future and nostalgic about the past. I'm not really sure why this is, but I think it must have something to do with taking what we have now for granted, as if we always had it. Therefore I am going to write today about what I consider to be the miracle of our times.

Now, I am not one for the use of the word, "Miracle." I'm a materialist, a naturalist, I think things happen according to fixed laws. However, I think if most people from 100 years ago could experience what life is like now I think they would consider it a miracle.

One hundred years ago, in 1911, life was extraordinarily different for the majority of Americans. At the time there was no minimum age so many, if not most children worked. About one third of children went to elementary school and only one in ten graduated from high school. If you met an American from 100 years ago the chances are that they would be unable to read this post. Life expectancy was around fifty years. A study found that one in five children in inner cities in the USA were malnourished.

What was life like for most people back then? Well, it was mostly a life of drudgery. With electricity just beginning to become available to homes during this century the vast number of labor saving devices that we take for granted were not available. I want you to imagine living without a refrigerator or access to washing machines, or a vacuum cleaner. For women, without safe contraception and with extremely limited opportunities to find work outside of the household, this meant usually sticking with a husband regardless of his qualities, multiple children (average per household around three, with a one third chance that one of your babies would die as an infant) and a life that consisted almost entirely of chores. Hand washing for a family of five, often heating the water with firewood, would take hours of hard physical labor. Cleaning the house would consist of you on your hands and knees with a scrubbing brush and some soap. Grocery shopping would be a daily activity because food wouldn't keep, requiring walking in both directions carrying your bags.

To get an idea of what it would be like back then I suggest thinking of what it would be like for you to recreate for a week the life of the average American from 1911. First of all you cannot read anything, watch tv, check the internet, make a phone call. Secondly, you cannot refrigerate anything, or eat anything that is imported. Third, all chores for the house must be done by hand, and for real verisimilitude anything that requires water should be done out of a bucket. Oh, and by the way, no zippers, or bras. all information that you receive would be simply by word of mouth, what someone told you (as you have no way of checking any information). For entertainment you can eat out once in the week, or go to see a movie, or see a play.

Now, I suggest that there is not one single one of us who will have any intention whatsoever of going through with a plan to see what such a life would be (and still an improvement because of health, low crime, social programs, increased education, mental health, etc..) for a week. Why is this? Why am I so sure that this life has no appeal to any of us? It's because such a life was so obviously markedly worse than the lives we live now. The experience of the average American has so dramatically improved over a hundred years that the average modern American doesn't want to experience how life was for even a day.

Now, why is this a miracle? It is a miracle not just in the ease of our lives. It is a miracle in the transformation of the experience of people (particularly women) from almost entirely uneducated, ignorant, laborers into thinkers, feelers, and dreamers. There are about three times as many people now with undergraduate degrees in the USA as used to graduate from high school. The average person in the USA can now travel to other places for vacations on an annual basis, something that would be the most amazing experience of someone's entire life 100 years ago.

This freedom to learn and experience, to think about our lives and how to improve them has transformed our lives in other ways. Health care so that you don't have to worry that your loved ones might sicken and die at any point, mental health care so that those with depression, labor laws so that you and your children don't have to kill themselves slowly for money, laws and attitudes to stop men beating their wives and children, and on and on and on.

This miracle has happened in the USA, and is still happening. However, the grander miracle is that this is happening around the world. This transformation from a lifetime of ignorant, manual labor to a lifetime of educated freedom has happened to nearly half the world in the last three decades. The rate of change is faster elsewhere than it was for the USA, since the technology has already been invented. In our lifetimes we can expect that the experiences of the "golden age" in the USA, that of the 1950's and 1960's, will be the norm for people around the world.

Why does this matter? Why should we, who have not only the benefit of this miracle but also no realistic expectation that we or anyone we know might have to deal without this miracle, care about this miracle? It matters most importantly because a happy life is one that acknowledges the good things in life, and almost every single moment of every day there is something that is better than it used to be, and for this we should be grateful. It matters because it is so much better to feel good about how things have gone and therefore to be optimistic about the future. It matters because if we acknowledge that this is a transformation miracle in people's lives then we can work to encourage more of these miracles. Happy, optimistic people trying to improve the world produces more happy, optimistic people, and an improved world.

While many of us spend our time bemoaning politicians, corporations, the system, the terrible economy, the instability of our culture, our greed, the vileness of human nature, and the idiocy of those with whom we disagree, these are the things that have produced the greatest change for good in the history of the world.

There is a miracle going on around you, and it is a miracle of great goodness.

Working Towards A Dream

I've talked a lot about the difficulty I have in remaining motivated by something for an extended amount of time. This is of course only with regard to certain things, I am pretty consistently motivated to have naps, read books, be around the woman I love and so on. But things that most people would consider productive I have struggled with generating and maintaining interest. I have considered graduate school, writing novels, grand treks across the world, deep spiritual practice and never really seem to get much farther than the beginning.

However, there is something that I continue to do that is productive, gives some level of self-identification, and is working towards a dream. I play the mandolin and sing. I don't play everyday in alignment with the Cariaga Doctrine (if you play 15 minutes every day you will get better) but I play the mandolin more days that I don't, and I tend to play longer periods of up to an hour and a half.

It is odd that I put so much effort into the process. After all, my total number of songs I am play is perhaps forty. I have played most of these songs hundreds of times, and I am playing them to myself in my own home. As time goes by I work on more and more difficult stuff to play, and that largely consists of trying and failing at something, then trying and failing less badly, until something sort of OK comes out. Learning how to play music is hard work, and often very discouraging. About half the time I put the mandolin down in disgust at my failure.

The reasons I still play are several. I really do love music. I'm one of those awful people who will put on a piece of music and say, "See that, that! That emotion right there is what I am talking about!" while people who like pretty tunes will look at me blankly. The music I play brings images of home back to me, the greenest, thick-bladed grass blowing in the wind. Moss on stone. Something older than cars and telephones and records.

Music is also a lifelong skill. I'll always be able to sing a folk song now that I've learned how. Unless arthritis cripples my hands I expect to always be able to pick out a song or two, and really I expect simply to get better. Getting better at something beautiful is a reward. To be able to play something new, or something better, is always a recognizable achievement. The little pieces matter to me, and this is how you know you are doing something that feels worthwhile.

Then there are the memories. I don't think there is anything more rewarding that people can do than to be part of a team that works together to achieve something that makes life better. I have been very fortunate to be part of teams full of good, kind, funny, interesting people making music good enough to bring joy to others. Being in a band has been very special for me, with people becoming somehow more than friends through the process, more like family.

Finally, there is the dream. If I keep playing, keep trying to get better, still feeling the music, then at some point I believe that I will become someone worthy of being called a musician. I'm not talking about being a star, or being famous, or amazing people with my technical ability. What I mean is that I will be able to play a large group of songs beautifully, as one would think they should be played. I will be able to sit with a group of other musicians and find my way into songs. I will be able to play in the town I live at least weekly. Who is Dan? He sings Irish songs and plays mandolin. I don't know if that is five or ten years away, much depends on my own perception.

The perception of improvement, or adequacy in music is a funny thing. I have played in bands on stages for money. Two of the bands I was in have been (on some memorable occasions) asked to play enough encores so that we had to repeat songs for lack of repertoire. Is this not adequate to be thought of as a musician? Not to me. I am still an amateur, still someone concentrating on curling those fingers to get right there while ignoring the cramping and the pain in my fingertips. There is no-one who can find an error in music with quite the same level of perception as a musician listening to themselves play. I remember with a smile the times that bands I have been in have listened to recordings of ourselves playing. Everyone says how good it sounds, and everyone cringes at a litany of their own mistakes unnoticeable even to others within the band.

The best thing that has happened to me recently, in a string of somewhat difficult moments, was being asked if my old band Sam's Cross would play a friend's wedding in Portland in August. A high point in my process of working towards a dream, a comfortable dream of quiet satisfaction, friendship, and beauty. It all started with a question from a friend, for which I will always be grateful.

Suicide Letter

Christina and I received the following letter in Tuesday's mail. This is not, I repeat not, a letter written by myself or Christina. Neither of us are thinking about suicide and neither of us think that we will or could commit suicide. Scott McKinnon was a co-worker and friend of Christina's at PPM in Portland. I knew him less well through work parties and a weekly bowling evening.

To My Dearest Friends and Family,

I wanted you to hear this from me directly, but first, please let me start by saying that I love you all. You have all been wonderful to me and, for this, I have been extremely grateful.

I have decided to end my life voluntarily. By the time you are reading this, I will already be gone. My apologies for any pain this might cause you. I wish that I could have simply vanished; erasing all memory you have of me. The decision to end my life was very easy for me, but the decision to hurt you all has caused me great distress. I have never wanted to bring anyone grief, but I must simply exit. I must leave this world and I must do it by my own hand.

Pain is a relative beast and I have been in a great deal of anguish for as long as I can remember. As a child I was overly sensitive to this world. I would frequently and secretly go into my bedroom and weep for hours at a time, with no particular understanding as to why. As an adult, I have learned how to mask this pain relatively well, but it has always remained with me. Until recently the cause of this anguish has been a mystery to me. Regardless of the source, the pain has always been there, hiding in the background. As such, I have decided to finally take mercy upon myself. I am nothing short of exhausted.

Let me be very clear about one thing; other than me, no person is to blame for this action. Not my ex-wife. Not you. Not anyone. This is my decision alone and I have done this with a clear head and a clear heart. In truth, I am looking forward to my death, as it means I will finally be at peace. We all must die sometime and I am making this decision to leave now. It is a luxury, honestly, to be able to choose the time and circumstances for your own departure.

I know that I could have asked any one of you for help and you would have certainly gladly given it to me. I chose not to go to any of you because I did not want your help. More than anything, I just wanted to leave.

If you need any evidence of this, that this act is intentional, non-spontaneous and genuinely desired, please realize the great lengths I have taken to reach this goal. In fact it is quite the opposite. Trust me when I say that dismantling your own life is not an easy matter.

I have not had anything to drink in the last two weeks, so I am completely sober for this important decision. I have sold off or given away all my possessions, so none of you would have to deal with the aftermath. I have also paid off my debts as best I can (everything except my own personal debts). I have written this letter and revised it over a period of weeks. I have said goodbye to each of you without actually being able to say goodbye. As you can imagine, this has been quite difficult. But, if anything, just such a truth should also indicate to you how very much I desired this exit.

I do need a favor though. While I could take care of most of my belongings, I could not find a home for my cat, Dora, without raising suspicion. She is a lovely kitty, my dearest friend in fact, and I want her to find a good home. If any of you have space for he, she will be waiting at my apartment in Eugene. I have left an envelope there with $500 cash and a $500 Amazon gift card, to cover her remaining expenses. Please be good to Dora K. during this last year she will have lost both her father and sister, so she will be very confused and frightened.

I was uncertain if it would be easier on you all if I simply disappeared altogether, but I understand that viewing a body can often be important for the grieving process, so even this was considered. I chose to leave my body behind, so that you might see this one last time, if you deemed it necessary or wanted. Again, this should indicate to you that my actions were not initiated in a fleeting moment of despair. This was a decision I made at great length and after a great amount of thought.

It is said that suicide is a selfish act and, certainly, this is partially true. I could have gone on living for you or for others, so as not to cause you this pain. But, I also needed to consider my own suffering, which was too great to endure any longer. If you believe in mercy and if you believe that ending suffering is a high principle, you must also understand why I have made this decision. For myself, there is no cure. Drugs would only dull the pain, as well as dull any positive emotions and thoughts (and those few I have, I cherish, as they are all I have left of value). religion, exercise, philosophy, meditation, family, friends....I have looked into each of these but, in the end, nothing gave me solace. I know this, because I have spent a lifetime searching for solace.

I do not find happiness in the pages of a book, in the arms of a lover or behind my camera lens. Sitting in a college classroom, hoping to better myself and the world around me, was the closest I came to finding happiness and meaning. But, in the end, even this was a temporary and shallow joy. I suspected it would be as such, but I had certainly hoped differently. I am quite happy that I had the opportunity to finally chance it.

We each have our own set of beliefs. Personally, I do not believe in a God or an afterlife. I do not fear death, as I do not fear anything. I believe that when I am gone, the World will simply go black. For this, I am extremely grateful.

As such I will not have tears in my eyes when I leave. In my last possible moments, I will think of all that has been Good in my life, I will think of all the beauty I have seen, I will think of all of you and I will be happy. You will all be there with me when I go. In truth, I am very lucky. I can think of no better way to leave.

If though, by chance, I am wrong and there is some form of afterlife, I will do my best to watch over you from there and help whenever I can. And, after you have passed (as we all must pass), I will meet you there for a fine game of poker, a hearty laugh and maybe even a glass of bourbon too. (I am fairly certain they will have the good stuff.) Regardless of what happens after, please forgive me. I have fought as best as I could, for as long as I could, which I believe is all that we might ask of anyone.

Still, I would have preferred to have done more good in the world before I left. In a small way, this letter is my last attempt to redeem myself.

I fully appreciate the irony and hypocritical nature of saying, in a suicide letter, all that I am about to say below, but life is inherently absurd, so I will forgive myself. If you are capable of doing what I could not, then these words will not have been in vain. hate me, if you need to hate me. Consider me a fool, if you must consider me a fool. I understand why and do not hold it against you. I am a flawed and illogical creature. I know this better than anyone.

It is not enough to simply act toward self-preservation; we must instead attempt to achieve self-creation. If there is to be any hope, we must all learn to think on a vastly larger scale, toward a far grander ideal and take far greater action towards that end.

If I could have remained here with you, this one statement is what I would have devoted my life towards realizing, for both myself and everyone else.

Our technology has advanced so greatly, but our morals have not advanced in kind. We once thought slavery was necessary and acceptable. We evolved. We once thought of women as inferior beings. We evolved. True, neither injustice has been completely eliminated, but we are certainly moving in the right direction.

The lesson here is that, again and again, we need to create new morals for ourselves and they cannot stem from magic or myth. We must continually learn how to create these ideals by ourselves, for ourselves.

If we are to evolve as a species, if we are to survive without destroying the planet, we must learn how to define our ends. And, if we are to evolve as individuals, we must learn to act towards those ends. Additionally, these ends must be greater than anything we have in place now. Simply put, our species must find a means of transcending here on Earth.

We are capable of so much more than we currently achieve. As of now, we lack the education, the imagination, the sense of scale and courage necessary. But, knowing that we lack these traits means that we can direct ourselves into obtaining these skills. We can evolve, if we wish to.

We must learn to control ourselves and master our short-sighted impulses. We must regain the ability to pause, at length, for genuine contemplation. We must educate ourselves, not just early in life and not just in trade skills, but throughout our entire lifetimes and towards a universal state of knowledge.

These thoughts cannot be vague or nebulous. They must be consciously acted upon; otherwise we will succumb to fear or greed instead.

Fear of losing our jobs, our health or our homes. Fear of death. These are understandable fears given our current situation, but we could easily change the situation so that these fears are no longer necessary.

Greed for more self-gratification, for more toys to play with, for more constant entertainment, for more sex, drugs and rock and roll... We often forget that these, too, can be a problem. These distractions are stopping us from ending the suffering of others. Of course, life is difficult and we each work very hard to survive, so this greed is understandable, given our current situation. But, again, we could easily change the situation so that these needs are no longer necessary.

If life were not difficult, would we feel the need to be rewarded constantly? Would we constantly feel the need for vacation if life itself was a vacation. It is possible, but only if we learn how to consciously limit ourselves. We must learn how to deny ourselves of some pleasures, so that we may eventually bring pleasure to everyone.

At best, we treat the symptoms of the disease, but never the disease itself. We occasionally feed the hungry, but do not question why there is hunger at all. There is hunger because we allow hunger to exist. There is suffering, other than chance uncontrollable suffering (such as my own crippling depression), because we allow it to exist.

Both locally and globally, it should be a crime (a genuine and punishable crime) for so few to have so much, when so many have so little. Why have we not done this? (I, myself, have lived with far too much ease. I regret this, as it has brought me no joy and I have certainly taken more than was necessary.)

It is a tragedy that we do not work together, as a species, to provide food, shelter, clothing, an education and health care for everyone on the planet, as love and a more endurable existence would certainly follow. Why have we not done this?

We could harness technology towards these ends, but we do not. Instead we make better toys for ourselves. Why are we doing this?

Children are wonderful creatures. they bring joy and happiness to nearly everyone they come into contact with. This is both a blessing and a curse, as we must learn to override our instincts. Our biggest challenge will be to find meaning in our lives other than through reproduction.

It is also a tragedy that the Earth, itself, now needs protection from our ever-increasing population. We must always give voice to the voiceless and this certainly includes all living things. We must find a meaning to our lives that supersedes reproduction.

To those who already have children, please know that I am not accusing you of making a mistake or judging you in any way. I love my friends and I love their children. Children are beautiful and, to those already with us, I would not wish them away for anything.

But to those who are considering having children in the future, I would ask that you take this larger concept strongly into consideration. We must find a way to protect ourselves, both globally and locally, from ourselves. we humans seem unable to control ourselves or understand ourselves.

This one truth, in essence, is what causes me the greatest amount of suffering. Living in a world in which people do not, or cannot, understand and control themselves has caused me a great deal of pain. If you must place blame on anything for my death, place blame on this: We are animals and nothing more, at least until we consciously decide to stop being animals. The author David Korten has written about this at length and, aside from his religious leanings, I believe that he gets quite a bit correct. If you have some time, please look into his work.

We can only decide to stop being animals if we are educated, taught to understand that there is a difference between instinct and intention. We must strive to help educate, not just ourselves, but all of those around us as well. We must learn to identify and override our instincts; otherwise we will simply cause more unnecessary suffering and destruction to both ourselves and those around us. Thus, education of the species should be one of our highest goals.

This is why I am writing to you now, to explain how I would like to be honored, should you wish to do so.

If you have children, please encourage them to read books for enjoyment and also make certain that they have the opportunity to go to college. In college, encourage them to learn as much as possible, in a wide variety of subjects. University should be more than just an advanced form of trade school.

Then, if you have the energy and time after that, please continue your own education as well.

And then, if by an even greater fortune, you have still more energy and time beyond that, please help in the attempt to change Education itself.

Society must be taught that a lifelong universal education for everyone is the key to ending all unnecessary suffering.

This meta-education (an education about education) is the most difficult and necessary step for humanity to focus upon. It is a challenge that I wish I could have tackled with you all. Unfortunately, I simply could not. In the end, I was not strong enough to remain.

Still I was happy to finally have a clear understanding of the need itself. I may not have been able to solve this grand hidden enigma we find ourselves embroiled within, but I was eventually able to clearly identify the problem. After all, we cannot hope to decipher the answer to a riddle we do not even realize is challenging us.

I have also left an envelope at my apartment with $2000 to cover my funeral expenses. I wish to be cremated and have my ashes thrown off of the large stone bridge at Whatcom Fall Park, in Bellingham, Washington. This is one of the few spots in the world that I found peace in. I am certain that this act, tossing my ashes, will be quite illegal, but please do so anyway. It is lovely to think that I will depart with a small, but meaningful, act of imagination and rebellion.

Thank you for listening to my final words. And thank you all for being such wonderful people. I could not have asked for a better set of beautiful, creative, affectionate individuals to fill the moments of my life with.

I love you all.

Goodbye.

-Scott Allan McKinnon / Mink Staccato

It's Not Fair!

Is there a person in the world who hasn't felt outraged that something wasn't fair? The sense of fairness, that resources and opportunity should be distributed equitably, is not only innate in human beings but also other social mammals including monkeys and dogs. I would be quite surprised if this wasn't an attribute of all social mammals.

Is there a person in the world who hasn't been told as a result of the outrage that, "Life isn't fair?" The reason that this is so is because life isn't fair. It's a simple fact that people around the world in all places and at all times have different characteristics, different resources, and are treated differently based on attributes that they didn't earn (beautiful people have easier lives).

Human beings also have an innate tendency to attribute the cause of events to an intelligent actor. If you are a believer in God you will probably believe this to be a true insight into the nature of the Universe, if you an Atheist you will probably believe this to be an evolved bias (the person who consistently attributes the crack of a stick breaking in the bushes to an intelligent actor is less likely to get eaten by the tiger, or end up with a spear through them).

These three facts produce a difficult cognitive problem for people. There is the feeling that there is meaning or a plan to our very existence, and a feeling that things should be fair, and finally the fact that things are not fair. So much of our angst comes from this problem. Those of us who do less than others feel guilt. Those of us that do more feel cheated. Those of us with reduced opportunities (not so pretty, from a place with fewer resources) feel as though the Universe is against them. Those with more feel the spite of jealousy.

There are two concepts that exist to deal with this, reward/punishment afterlives, or the Law of Karma. Since life is so manifestly unfair the believer in a just God (something in modern monotheism and far less apparent in preceding religions) must believe that there is more than this life and Heaven is the reward for being good and Hell is the punishment for being bad, and each is so vastly more than this life that fairness results. The Law of Karma requires no God, but does require that the Universe is inherently just and that we are reborn by some unknown mechanism to receive our just deserts in the next life. These concepts are so emotionally satisfying to people that the overwhelming majority of people believe in at least one of them.

Humanity also has other issues in regards to fairness. For a start there are the scientific facts of social loafing, rationalization, and attribution bias. We work less hard in groups, we try to get unfair amounts of resources for less work, we tell ourselves that we don't do these things and we tend to blame the misfortune of others on their characters and our misfortunes on circumstances. Human beings are also innately pre-disposed to extreme punishment. Those caught not being fair are generally punished even to the extent that the results are a net loss for everyone. This is best illustrated by a poll of Wisconsin voters in which the majority indicated that they would prefer to pay more in taxes to get people off welfare than it cost to pay for welfare. People would prefer to be poorer than have other people get their money "for nothing."

For myself this problem of fairness is mostly experienced with regard to my darling wife, and particularly on days like today. My job today will be to walk the dog on a marvelous day, do some dishes, practice some music, make dinner, and be attentive and caring towards someone I love. My wife's job is to slave away in an environment I could not stand for ten hours. From my point of view there is no comparison in the amount of work, it simply isn't fair.

The thing is, should fairness be the measure of things? As a utilitarian I am in favor of making the most amount of happiness with the resources available. Between my wife and myself I am more qualified and capable at doing chores (in that I am capable of sometimes doing them) and in caring for people (my profession for two decades). Without a doubt my wife is more capable of withstanding the unholy bullshit of the corporate world and making money. This division of labor makes both of us more happy than if we were acting alone (in which each of us would have to work and do chores). Our lives are both enhanced by an unfair arrangement.

In a wider setting we can look at the problem of fairness. At the moment there is a vast inequity (although geographically shrinking) in wealth. The average worldwide income is $7000 a year, the average US income is over $50,000. For wealth to be fair the average American would have to give up almost everything they own and everyone in the world would have to try getting by on $7,000 a year. What would be the result? Worldwide economic collapse, most likely. The end of research and development. The end of large capitol investment for non-government activities. The Twentieth Century was (despite the common view) the greatest century for worldwide economic improvement ever. While I am certain that income inequality can go too far (and has) it still produces a better situation than a perfectly fair distribution.

It's not fair, I'm think it probably shouldn't be fair, and regret that it isn't fair without changing the situation is an entirely negative and useless emotion. I keep telling myself this but my innate feeling of fairness means that I can still feel guilty for making the world a better place by not being fair.