Who Shall Liberate Freedom

August 9, 2009 by William Buell

What do we mean when we say “free?”

“Free” is an adjective, as in “free lunch,” which apparently does not exist, since we are always saying “There is no such thing as a free lunch.” But then we turn around and sing “The best things in life are free.”

Life, existence, is free, but not free like an animal in the wild. Life is a domestic beast of burden laden with many duties and responsibilities.

“Free” is the verb which Lincoln used, famed as one who “freed the slaves,” though some contend that Lincoln had other agendas far removed from the arena of civil rights.

“Free” can be as ambiguous as “love” in the phrase “love of God,” which may mean either our love for God or that love which God expresses or represents. Consider the title of the story of a whale in captivity, “Free Willie” which may be either an attribute or a command.

Freedom is a right in modern societies, a privilege in ancient ones and a movement in era of the 1960s.

Freedom is always a responsibility and a burden, the burden that we MUST choose. When you are not free then all your choices are made for you. In such circumstances your only freedom is your choice of the manner in which you choose to regard your servitude, as Viktor Frankl pointed out.

“Free” was a social status during the time of slavery.

“Free” has a tone of censure when we speak of the “free love” and indulgence of libertines and “loose women.”

What is the difference between “freedom” and “liberty?”

Patrick Henry, famous for saying “Give me liberty or give me death,” quite possibly took “liberties” with some young woman at one time or another. Liberty may be a cause or a statue. Lot was sole pillar of his community and yet Lot’s wife, freed from the fate of Sodom, looked back wistfully and became imprisoned as a pillar of salt. Not every statue is a Statue of Liberty, and the pillars which support our freedom are the statutes of the laws which make society stable. Stables are where beasts of burden rest.

Who or what is truly free?

The freedom of others restricts and limits us.

Even chaos is not free but is plagued by shadow of orderliness which haunts it as shadow haunts objects in sunlight. Consider the difficulties surrounding the METHODS to generate random numbers. They are forever doomed to be pseudo-random, never truly random, truly free.

The matter and energy, of which we are composed, are the least free of all, bound as they are by the inexorable laws of physics.

Lawless faith is always seeking a miracle which defies the laws of nature.

In 2 Kings 20:1-11, Hezekiah had asked Isaiah,

“What will be the sign that the LORD will heal me and that I will go up to the temple of the LORD on the third day from now?”

Isaiah answered, “This is the LORD’s sign to you that the LORD will do what he has promised: Shall the shadow go forward ten steps, or shall it go back ten steps?”

“It is a simple matter for the shadow to go forward ten steps,” said Hezekiah. “Rather, have it go back ten steps.”

Then the prophet Isaiah called upon the LORD, and the LORD made the shadow go back the ten steps it had gone down on the stairway of Ahaz.

We are free to choose our occupation and livelihood, yet often our occupation chooses us. We are free to pursue only things which are NECESSARY or in demand, that which is REQUIRED.

If we own a store full of merchandise, we are free to give it all away in charity, but we are not always free to charge anything we like. We may sell our hot-dogs for $5 at a baseball game, but we may not price gouge during a time of emergency and crisis, selling food or water or cab service for outrageous, exorbitant prices. Yet, who needs an umbrella when it is not raining?

Jesus, who said “I am the Truth,” also said, “The truth shall make you free.” Yet the most devoted Christians desire for their headstone only the title “Slave of Christ.” There are some slaves who make a handsome living from their servitude.

Wherever we find freedom, we find rules and laws. Perhaps it is the very nuisance of freedom and choice and random chance which brings rules and laws into being.

Freedom has its limitations.

Freedom is a hope.

Freedom is a dream.

Freedom is an illusion.

Freedom is a word in the dictionary, a hefty, ponderous word which enslaves the political in an arduous and exhausting exercise of lip-service.

Now that we have exhausted the possibilities of “Freedom,” we may ask in closing:

“Where is that Lincoln or Jesus who shall ever liberate freedom?”

- written 8-17-2003

Trusting Strangers on the Internet

August 9, 2009 by William Buell

I simply approve every request. You can always delete them later. And you might be missing out on something very interesting that someone will one day post. I mean, just look at their info, and posts, and see if they seem genuine, and if they share some interests in common with you. If one feels that no one can be trusted, then the Internet is not the place to be.

Besides, in my situation, everyone who is an alumnus of St. John’s Annapolis or Santa Fe Great Books program automatically shares something in common with me. How will you ever meet new and interesting people if you never trust anyone. Is it not the case that all of your friends were, at one point, a stranger that you got to know. I am a stranger to 6 billion people on the planet, but that does not make me strange. And a large percentage of violent crimes are perpetrated by relatives or acquaintances.

I have been on the Internet non stop since 1998, and talked to everyone. An online friend from Univ. of Oulu, Finland, came with his 11 yr. old son and stayed at my apartment for a few days, to save on hotel costs. I went to Tampa, FL once and had dinner with 3 yahoo chat acquaintances. An AOL friend from Great Britain spent the day with me while visiting NY. And I am guessing that about 50,000 people over the past 10 years have read my blogs on philosophy, religion, poetry, etc. I have never regretted giving everyone a chance.

What would Jesus have done? The Samaritan women at the well, the adulteress, about to be stoned, Zaccheus the tax collector, the Ethiopian eunuch in his chariot, reading Isaiah, Apostles Andrew and Nathaniel…. they were ALL TOTAL STRANGERS. America amazes me, because we pay such lip service to Christianity, and demand that our presidential candidates take Jesus as their personal savior, but what do we choose to do in daily life. Don’t get me wrong. I am Hindu and Buddhist in my personal beliefs. Gandhi rejected Christianity as his personal religion, but the beatitudes of the sermon on the mount were his favorite. Kurt Vonnegut wryly observed that Americans clamor to erect monuments to Moses’ ten commandments, but no one thinks to have a plaque for the beatitudes.

And the Torah and Talmud say to welcome the stranger, so don’t any of you weasel out of this by saying you are Jewish.

Dennis the Menace asked someone “are you a stranger”. The old man replied “No, I lived her all my life.” Dennis said “Good, cause my Mom says not to talk to strangers.

It’s like the Lotto ad says, “You can’t win if you don’t play.”

One of my tutor’s at St. John’s, Mr. Main, I think, said in seminar “you can’t have too much money or too much whiskey.” I guess I would add to that sentiment that you can’t have too many friends (though you can have too many enemies). Lincoln said “If I make my enemy into my friend, then have I not destroyed my enemy?”

My practice for years is to pick up a book at random, a book I might not otherwise read, open it and read a page at random, and try to understand something from that page.

People on Facebook and Myspace are like books. I randomly look at what some of the 300 people on my list are saying, and I am glimpsing into the soul and life and heart of that person. They mention something entirely new to me. I look at something in a way that I have never seen before. I Google and read some. I reflect, react and post. Others randomly read my thoughts.

These activities are very enriching. Even a fool has something to teach a wise man.

Where would philosophy be today, if Socrates had said to The Eleatic Stranger, “Oh, sorry, I can’t talk to you ’cause you’re a stranger.”

Somewhere in the Talmud it is observed that “when a great king stamps out coins with his image on them, each coin is the same, but when God creates people in His image, each and every one is different.” Now, YOU are a stranger to all the people who might possibly add YOU. Do you feel they should FEAR you?

No, of course not. And you know that you are totally unique. There has NEVER been another person just like YOU, and there never shall be. And you have much to offer others.

Aristotle said, “A friend is another I.” Well, consider the reflexivity of this I-Thou relationship. As we esteem others, so, in a labyrinthine fashion, we come to esteem ourselves.

There is a saying in India, “When a saint meets a sinner, all he sees is saintliness, but when a sinner meets a saint, all he sees is sin.”

Also, “when a pickpocket meets a saint, all he sees are pockets.”

An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge

August 9, 2009 by William Buell

In the 1970’s I was enthralled by a television production of “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.”

The film was very faithful to the short story. A man is about to be hanged, but as he drops, the rope breaks, he falls into the creek below, and escapes. He is delirious with joy that such good fortune has come upon him and that he has been granted and extension to life, and freedom, to enjoy the simple things which surround him, the sunlight, air, leaves, water. But suddenly, we are back at the gallows, and we see a lifeless body hanging from the noose. We realize that the entire story was simply the condemned man’s imagination and wish fulfillment during the brief moment of his descent to the end of the rope.

To be certain, it is the surprise of the ending which comprises much of the power of the story. Were this story to begin with an exclamation that a man was condemned to death and was hanged, but in the moments before death, he experiences a fantasy, an illusion, which seems to endure for 30 minutes rather than one second, well… the surprise ending would be gone and the story would loose much of its charm.

The point of view is the condemned man’s subjective point of view, his fantasy, which for him and for us becomes a reality until we awaken to the fact that he actually dies and it is only a fantasy, a dream.

The plot relies on our ignorance of the true ending. Perhaps one might say that the theme is the wonder of each moment of existence, and how precious each moment becomes for us once we are truly conscious of how finite and limited and numbered our moments really are.

But, we must ask ourselves how it can be in any practical sense that anyone would know the prolonged fantasy of this man in the moment prior to his death. He certainly cannot narrate this for us as he falls, and he is even less capable of communicating anything once his neck has snapped. This simple fact makes it very obvious that it is solely the point of view of the victim, as far as the story is concerned, and it is purely the conjecture of the author as to what the victim might have experienced as far as we are concerned.

I suppose we might spend some time discussing the title of the story, “An OCCURENCE at Owl Creek Bridge.”

Everything that happens may be said to “occur.” If a fly falls into the farmer’s milk pail in the barn, it is an occurrence. If the farmer’s wife feeds the milk to her baby and the baby ingests the fly, it is an occurrence. If the farmer SAW the fly fall into the milk and chose to leave it there, it is an occurrence. If the farmer had the premeditated thought of playing a prank upon his wife by giving her milk with a fly in it, it is an occurrence. If the farmer’s prank backfires because then wife unknowingly feeds the milk to the baby and the baby becomes ill and dies, it is an occurrence. If the farmer confesses his secret guilt to a minister who secretly covets the farmer’s wife, and the minister arranges for the farmer’s wife to learn the truth, but the farmer’s wife, in her rage, smashes her husband’s head open with an axe, and is tried and hanged for murder, well, you get my point, these are all occurrences.

An insect falling into a bucket, as an occurrence by itself, is hardly worthy of note. The fate of the insect is too insignificant to be termed an occurrence. A Greek tragedy of epic proportions such as the farmer’s folly, combined with the minister’s lust and a wife’s murderous rage, is far too great to be called simply “an occurrence.” Hence, when we single out something with the word “occurrence” is something neither too small nor too great.

Advice To My Stepson In College

August 10, 2009 by William Buell

The other night, as your mother was going to sleep, she said to me, “Promise me only one thing, that if I die, you will help my son to finish college.”

I answered her, saying, “I will always help him in any way I can.”

Of course, I am not wealthy so I am limited in the ways I can help you.

But I hope I have helped you these past 10 years by example.

It is very likely accurate to say that during the years you have known me, since you were age 7, there is hardly a day that you have seen me without a book in my hands, first thing in the morning, or last thing at night. And perhaps you have noticed that I never dress up and leave the front door without having at least one little book
in my pocket (though often I have two or three). What you have seen in my daily life is a valuable lesson of example. Try to always learn something new and different each day and even each hour if you find the energy and discipline to do so. Try to do this throughout
your life, and not just during your years of formal education.

Each of us is given only so many minutes in life (though no one may know exactly how many), but try to use each minute wisely.

Be proactive and do not procrastinate. Finish work first (and start early), only then should you feel free to play and relax.

Before you utter any sentence, any statement, any remark, think first of the consequences, for once something is said, you may never take it back. Also, have an eye and mind to the quality of what you say.
If you always strive to say a few new and fascinating things, then you will not only uplift and possibly change the lives of those who hear you, but you will definitely grow and profit yourself, since you will always be pushing yourself in the direction of quality of thought, quality of speech.

I shall always remember the day when you were about 8 or 9 years old. I watched you toss a small ball against the wall and catch it for over an hour. When you had finished your pastime and turned to me, I scolded you gently by saying “You have just spent an entire hour tossing that ball, and you have nothing to show for it, nor are
you any happier now because of your activity, but are still just as bored. But IF you had spent that hour reading, or viewing something educational, or engaged in a meaningful discussion, why then you might have something of great value, and you would definitely no longer be bored, since you would have something of interest to occupy
your mind.”

Words are very powerful. God chose to incarnate as Word or Logos. Words can wound. Words can heal. Words can create. Words can destroy. Make words your tools. Make language your friend.

An education is nothing more than learning to use words. If you can recall the proper words on a black sheet of paper, you can pass a Law Bar exam or earn a CPA. If you say the proper words in the proper way you can win elections.

Make words your friends and companions and language your tool and weapon.

====================================

(here is the reply):

Thank you so very, very much for the kind words of advice. They seem to come at the most fitting moment too, for I am reading your words right now, as I sit alone in my dorm, trying to figure out ways to keep myself motivated and inspired to continue to work hard. Well, your advice of trying to keep learning as a main focus in life pretty much made that task a lot easier. Really, thank you very, very much for your E-mail.

I know I never say it to you or Mom enough, but I miss you, and I really do love you. I don’t know if I could ever really express to you, in person, how happy and how grateful I am to have you two as some of the greatest influences in my life…when I’ve tried in the past, it only resulted in my becoming overwhelmed with emotion, and
then petering out. I really don’t know of any other set of parents that could have done a better job than you did on me.

Thank you, both of you, so, so much.

My Fan Letter to Mr. Rogers

September 2, 2009 by William Buell

Here is a letter I wrote to Mr. Rogers on 12-15-2000. He wrote a reply. He read all of his mail and answered it personally.

Dear Mr. Rogers,

I am 50 years old (male). I did not begin watching your show until I was in High School in the mid 1960’s.

For the past several years, I have wanted to write you a letter of praise and thanks.

Today, I saw your program on PBS Television, and I decided to search the Internet, and find your email address.

When I was in high school, I would come home in the afternoon feeling nervous and pressured by the academic demands placed upon me. I would turn on your show, and instantly feel a calm and a peace, a tranquility which your show and your personality inspires. Although I have not had time to view your show regularly through the years, any time I did tune in I always perceived this same atmosphere of peace and tranquility. And also, I might add, a sense of moral and ethical strength, of purity and integrity and most importantly EQUANIMITY (an even keeled spirit in the face of all things).

Two years ago, I had to settle my late mother’s estate near New Haven, Connecticut, where I grew up and first saw your show. The day before I sold the house that I grew up in, I saw my next door neighbor, now quite elderly, making his way to his mailbox with his walker. I went to say goodbye to him, explaining that the house was being sold. He had moved into that neighborhood in 1955, when my parents bought that house across the street from him. I grew up and went to school with his son. As I said goodbye to him that day, the last thing he did was look at me with a smile and a twinkle in his eye and he sang the beginning of your theme song, “Won’t you be my neighbor.”

Obviously, many adults watch your show as well as children. I think this is a great tribute to you and your program. The episode that I happened to see today featured the young boy who was handicapped and in a wheelchair. As I watched him, I realized how foolish I am sometimes in my own life, feeling sorry for myself over the little problems and frustrations that I experience. We all realize that there are those in this world who face far greater problems, and face them from infancy onward, and yet they manage to be courageous and optimistic about the blessings that they do have. We all know this ‘intellectually’ but few of us know this ‘emotionally’. I am quite certain that these are some of the very messages which you seek to convey to your audience.

In my Internet search today, I came across some biographical material about your own life and education. I had not realized that you pursued a vocation in the ministry. But I am certainly not surprised to learn of your religious background, since the feelings I have always had from your show are ones of a deeply spiritual nature, yet totally free of any sectarian or doctrinal overtones. I now realize that this too is a great tribute to your success; to convey a spiritual message without appearing ‘religious’. Perhaps that is the highest form of religion that there is. Perhaps the very meekness, gentleness and compassion which you convey every day in your program is a ‘living icon’ of that Personality which you yearn to proclaim and about which you are perennially, tactfully silent.

Several years ago, I noticed a news item that you were involved in some litigation to protect your name from unauthorized misuse in the media. My first thought was simple “Yes. He should. Mr. Rogers stands for something important, and no one should wrongfully misuse that name or image for purposes contrary to Mr. Rogers’ goals and standards.”

I do hope that this little email of mine can reach you personally, Mr. Rogers. I realize from reading your biographical info that you have no shortage of awards and commendations for your life’s work. You do not know me personally, and yet you have been a part of my life since I was very young. Yet even the holiest of temples is built up by individual stones. I am sure you have touched the lives and hearts of several generations now, young and old. And the seeds which you have patiently sown these many years will surely take deep roots in the fabric of our society for generations to come. And your values and ideas, so subtle and tactful as to be almost subliminal, will shape our world for decades, perhaps centuries to come.

I did not want to reach the end my life without having expressing my thanks to you. Of course, many individuals touch our lives, especially in this soon to end 20th century of unprecedented media and communications explosion. Such personalities as yours and others become perhaps larger than life, larger than your own individuality. I am sure that the gravity of this responsibility, the weight of this public image, has been trying for you at times. And yet, our world needs larger-than-life heros and icons, even though we are “vessels of clay”. I think St. Paul wrote somewhere, “God places His treasures of gold in vessels of clay”. I just want you to know that there are people out here who know your job has not been an easy one, living in the public eye, and you have surely made your own personal sacrifices and suffered in order to achieve your goals. But from where I stand, it looks like you have done your work masterfully. I am quite certain in my heart that one day you will hear those cherished words “Well done, good and faithful servant.” If anyone deserves to hear them, it is certainly you. You have been a shining beacon in what is otherwise an often dark and sinister television medium.

God bless you Mr. Rogers! It has been an honor to know you over these many years.

Is Teaching An Art or a Science

September 6, 2009 by William Buell

I am pleased to have on my Plurk.com a number of teachers.

http://www.plurk.com/snupnjake
has asked a very interesting question: Is teaching an art or a science.

Microblogs such as Plurk and Twitter do not allow sufficient space to do such a question justice.

I imagine that a 21st century scholar would describe SCIENCE as that which may be reproduced reliably by following a certain procedure, and precisely measured and quantified digitally with numbers.

Off the top of my head, let me pick an example of something which is an “art”. I spent some years around dialysis centers watching phlebotomist nurses insert or cannulate needles. There were a few people who were absolute artists and could quickly and painlessly insert a needle in even the most problematic of small veined patients. Others were only average in their skill. And some were absolutely dreadful. But such a skill, such a gift, is almost mysterious and inborn in a particular individual. We may certainly video tape a skilled phebotomist and place that video on youtube. But there is no way to construct a step by step procedure or algorithm or formula such as the quadratic formula which allows anyone to solve 2nd degree equations.

I shall attempt to quickly respond to this question as I imagine a member of the faculty of St. John’s Annapolis might answer, since I was greatly influenced by my four years of study in their Great Books liberal arts program.

Of course, they call themselves Tutors rather than Professors because they attempt to teach using Socratic methods. Socrates was often saying “I know only that I know nothing.” A professor “professes” to have knowledge and then didactly proceeds to lecture and outline that knowledge for others to memorize or absorb in some fashion and then prove that they have done their work by repeating the answers they have learned in exams and essays.

We must first ask what is the definition of “science” and what is the definition of “an art” (and I add the indefinite article so as not to confuse the issue with that which is Art in the artistic sense).

I wonder whether Plato’s dialogues even speak in any term that we could consider SCIENCE. Socrates often speaks of various arts in the sense of skills or crafts that one may learn through apprenticeship.

Personally, when I hear the word “science” I think of Galileo’s “Two New Sciences”. Many timelines date the beginning of the Renaissance with the birth of Galileo.

I would say that teaching is an ART, which involve some science.

First of all, a good teacher must have a passion, and compassion to empower the students, and not merely empower, but kindle within them a love and passion for learning.

I feel that there is much more I could say but I will save this post and then post the link at Plurk and also on Facebook.

I do hope to return to this and add the comments of others. I would also like to string-search through Plato’s Republic and post some of the things which are mentioned as “arts” or in Greek “techne”.

But, remember, we derive the word technique from techne as well as technology, whereas the word “science” has its roots in a word which means “to know or understand”.

Science attempts to dignify itself with mathematics esp. statistics, but science requires something APPLIED in material world of Matter and Energy and some “sciences” based on statistics are considered pseudo-sciences, but on average, not all uses of statistics are bad

If by teaching on line you mean a person with a mic/webcam blog, message board, then its a teacher that you cant hit with a spitball

If by teaching on line you mean something automated, programmatic, that students intereact with, well, there may be learning, but no teacher

Craftsment used to fashion muskets and devices with NO INTERCHANGEABLE PARTS, each fitted unique, Indust.revolution replaced artisans with assembly line and interchangeable parts.

Stop and think, there is no SINGLE person who has all the skills and knowledge to create a supercomputer with operating system. It is only
CORPORATE understanding, which propagates itself from generation to generation much like a meme or pattern…

One must speak very precisely. One must define what is meant by “science” and what is meant by “art” as well as how those terms evolved in meaning.

Our media driven culture tends to throw around buzz-words loosely and not think deeply about meanings.

Art in the sense of the Pietà by Michelangelo strives for a “one of a kind”. Science strives for that which can be duplicated.

Craftsmanship is something transmitted from master to apprentice in a long process which cannot be quantified or documented.

The one living person I know of who could give the proper answer to this in essay or lecture form is Eva Brann of St. John’s Annapolis

Here is a perfect example of Socrates notion of “the art” of some particular human endeavor.

http://www.piney.com/MuIon.html

Is not the art of painting a whole?

Ion. Yes.

Socrates And there are and have been many painters good and bad?

Ion. Yes.

Socrates And did you ever know any one who was skilful in pointing out the excellences and defects of Polygnotus the son of Aglaophon, but incapable of criticizing other painters; and when the work of any other painter was produced, went to sleep and was at a loss, and had no ideas; but when he had to give his opinion about Polygnotus, or whoever the painter might be, and about him only, woke up and was attentive and had plenty to say?

Ion. No indeed, I have never known such a person.

Socrates Or did you ever know of any one in sculpture, who was skilful in expounding the merits of Daedalus the son of Metion, or of Epeius the son of Panopeus, or of Theodorus the Samian, or of any individual sculptor; but when the works of sculptors in general were produced, was at a loss and went to sleep and had nothing to say?

Ion. No indeed; no more than the other.

Socrates And if I am not mistaken, you never met with any one among flute-players or harp- players or singers to the harp or rhapsodes who was able to discourse of Olympus or Thamyras or Orpheus (mythical inventor of music), or Phemius the rhapsode of Ithaca, but was at a loss when he came to speak of Ion of Ephesus, and had no notion of his merits or defects?

Ion. I cannot deny what you say, Socrates. Nevertheless I am conscious in my own self, and the world agrees with me in thinking that I do speak better and have more to say about Homer than any other man. But I do not speak equally well about others- tell me the reason of this.

Socrates I perceive, Ion; and I will proceed to explain to you what I imagine to be the reason of this.

The gift which you possess of speaking excellently about Homer is not an art, but, as I was just saying, an inspiration; there is a divinity moving you, Like that contained in the stone which Euripides calls a magnet, but which is commonly known as the stone of Heraclea.

This stone not only attracts iron rings, but also imparts to them a similar power of attracting other rings;and sometimes you may see a number of pieces of iron and rings suspended from one another so as to form quite a long chain: and all of them derive their power of suspension from the original stone.

The Corybantes were priests of Cybele or Rhea, mother of Zeus and other Olympian gods, and she was worshipped with wild music and frenzied dancing which, like the bacchic revels or orgies of women in honor of Dionysus, carried away the participants despite and beyond themselves. Cf. Eurip. Bacchae.

In like manner the Muse first of all inspires men herself;

and from these inspired persons a chain of other persons is suspended, who take the inspiration. For all good poets, epic as well as lyric, compose their beautiful poems not by art, but because they are inspired and possessed. And as the Corybantian revellers when they dance are not in their right mind, so the lyric poets are not in their right mind when they are composing their beautiful strains:
but when falling under the power of music and metre they are inspired and possessed; like Bacchic maidens who draw milk and honey from the rivers when they are under the influence of Dionysus but not when they are in their right mind.

And the soul of the lyric poet does the same, as they themselves say; for they tell us that they bring songs from honeyed fountains, culling them out of the gardens and dells of the Muses; they, like the bees,
winging their way from flower to flower. And this is true. For the poet is a light and winged and holy thing, and there is no invention in him until he has been inspired and is out of his senses, and the mind is no longer in him: when he has not attained to this state, he is powerless and is unable to utter his oracles Many are the noble words in which poets speak concerning the actions of men; but like yourself when speaking about Homer, they do not speak of them by any rules of art:
they are simply inspired to utter that to which the Muse impels them, and that only; and when inspired, one of them will make dithyrambs, another hymns of praise (often to Apollo), another choral strains, another epic or iambic verses- and he who is good at one is not good any other kind of verse: for not by art does the poet sing, but by power divine. Had he learned by rules of art, he would have known how to speak not of one theme only, but of all; and therefore god takes away the minds of poets, and uses them as his ministers,
as he also uses diviners and holy prophetess,
in order that we who hear them may know them to be speaking not of themselves who utter these priceless words in a state of unconsciousness, but that god himself is the speaker, and that through them he is conversing with us. And Tynnichus the Chalcidian affords a striking instance of what I am saying: he wrote nothing that any one would care to remember but the famous paean which; in every one’s mouth, one of the finest poems ever written, simply an invention of the Muses, as he himself says.

A HISTORY OF POLYCHEM CORPORATION

October 6, 2009 by William Buell

A HISTORY OF POLYCHEM CORPORATION

This, of necessity will be partly a small business history and partly biographical and autobiographical.

It all starts with a seed. The seed for Polychem was sown in the year 1937 in the Sacony (Mobil) gas station at 6 Fountain Street, New Haven, Connecticut. After formally applying for a job at 26 Broadway, New York City, with Standard Oil Company of New York. That is when I ended up working 63 hours per week at $18.00. I was there over two years and one year paid income tax in the amount of $0.75 total. I also started paying Social Security (18 cents per week) in the first week of 1937, when Social Security started. One night, a talkative stranger came in with two flat tires. Being alone and having to wait on gasoline customers, it took some time to patch up two tires ( @ 50 cents each). During all this, the man asked many questions and discovered that my father was a chemist. This chap returned two weeks later to ask if my father was interested in doing some chemical analysis for a small company which four to six people had inherited unexpectedly. Their product was for cleaning machine parts after manufacture.

My father, William H. Buell Sr., was an 1899 graduate of Yale University. He was the first chemist ever hired by Winchester Repeating Arms Co.. He was head of the Development Department of E.I. DuPont during World War I. He developed metallic bellows for thermostats in General Motors Autos and early frigidaires. Then, he went into the Stock Brokerage business in the late twenties. With the Wall Street crash and the onset of the Great Depression, he was out of work and out of money by 1937.

W.H.B. went with them and carved out a job for himself. He got them into this working business with products made with synthetic surfactants rather than soap, courtesy of his old DuPont connection. When this company folded because of too many stockholders who didn’t get along, Buell took his restaurant detergent business to New York and combined it with the Kitcheneer Co., a little side line owned by Raymond W. Marshall, President of Alaska Air Lines, Utilities Equipment Co., Transit Equipment Co., Kan Valley Railroad, et cetera. Customers included Woolworth, Kresge, Nedick, and other small chains . The product was compounded and shipped by the Solvay Co. (Allied Chemical Co.).. In New York, Bill Buell, Sr. played a lot of bridge, often with Dr. Bryan Sword, Anesthesiologist with PolyClinic Hospital in the West 50’s, NYC. Sword suggested that a good surgical instrument cleaner was needed.

A separate company was formed to develop and market this new instrument cleaner. All the testing was done at PolyClinic Hospital by Nurse Edith Hall, O.R.S. and Nurse Anne Sasse. Edith Hall was significant as she became the first president of the Operating Room Nurses Association. All of this was happening in 1942. Polychem was incorporated in May, 1942 with Bill Buell, Sr. and Kitcheneer Corp. (Raymond W. Marshall) as 50 – 50 owners. The details were handled by the law firm of Dunovan, Leisure, Newton and Lombard, the Dunovan being Wild Bill of OSS fame.

During all of this from 3/25/41 to 10/7/45, this writer, William H. Buell Jr., was off to war in the 12 Th. Infantry Regiment of the 4th Infantry Division landing in Normandy on D-Day, in the Battle of Mortain, the liberation of Paris, the Hurtgen Forest, and the Battle of the Bulge.

Once incorporated, Polychem finally got Meinecke Co. Inc., 225 Varick Street, New York City to distribute the product. They named the product HAEMO-SOL and unfortunately owned the trade mark. Meinecke was a subsidiary of the Armstrong Cork Co. (now Armstrong World Industries). Polychem’s office was at 501 5th. Avenue, NYC and had one room on the 22nd floor.

Meinecke has sparse coverage coast to coast. They also had working arrangements with American Hospital Supply, A.S. Aloe, St. Louis, Will Ross Co., Milwaukee, WI., Hospital Equipment Co., NY and the Fisher Burpe Co. of Winnipeg Canada who all carried Haemo-sol. Early sales were helped through the efforts of Bryan Sword’s acquaintances, and the interest of Burleigh Jennings, VP of Meinecke (soon to be president).
All manufacturing was contracted out with the Zenith Drug Co. of Newark doing the jobs from 1944 to 1947. During this period, Polychem had a consulting chemist, Father Joseph B. Muenzen, S.J., who was head of the Chemistry Department of Fordham University.

In 1943, Buell Sr. was 66 years old and in bad shape financially. Kitcheneer ( R.W. Marshall) financed the start of the company with $3,000.00. It should be mentioned that Polychem Corporation never borrowed any money until 26 years later, when it purchased Marshall’s stock from his estate.

In mid October of 1945, William H. Buell, Jr., back from the war, reluctantly went to work with Polychem and his father. His other choice was to go back to F.W. Woolworth, where he had been an assistant manager of their South Ozone Park store. Starting pay at Polychem was $60 per week.

After leaving the gasoline station in August, 1938, I spent a year and a half as publisher of “College Years”, a national College magazine, working for Henry B. Sargent, uncle of Polychem’s John Sargent. When publication ceased in March, 1990, I went to New York, where I has a choice of an apprentice at Time, Inc. or stock boy at Woolworth Store in Jamaica, NY. I chose Woolworth because I couldn’t afford to go to work in a suit and necktie with a white shirt. Both jobs paid $18 per week.

When I arrived at Polychem, Father Meunzen took me up to Fordham and stuck me in the freshman Chemistry class which met every Saturday from 9:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. It was not an enjoyable year studying chemistry. Being at 501 5th. Avenue, we were across the street from the NY Public Library, which I found a tremendous help with their technical journals and its legal library. At my disposal also was the Medical Library at the Medical Society on Upper 5th Avenue, and the Chemists Club library on 41st Street. New York City was also a wonderful place to learn sales. If you can sell in New York, you can sell anywhere.

In the next couple of years, we made a couple of new associations which greatly affected Polychem. The first was the renewal of my father’s friendship with Clarence G. Spalding of Woodmont CO. – a retired chemist and pharmacist. Through Clarence Spalding, we met Theodore G. Anderson, professor of Microbiology at Temple University. Anderson became a consultant and helped Haemo-sol get into the laboratories of universities, hospitals and industrial laboratories. He developed tests to detect residual cleaner on Haemo-sol cleaned and rinsed glassware which allowed us to give our literature a more technical look. He performed tests on rusting and corrosion of metals.

Clarence Spalding, former Connecticut State Chemist, former drug store owner and operator and former teacher of pharmacy at Yale Medical School, was a man of many talents. At the age of almost 70, he was still active in the manufacture of chemical products. We persuaded him to move to larger quarters to which we moved the manufacturing operation of Haemo-sol from New Jersey to Woodmont, CT. He was ably assisted by his daughter Eleanor, who did much of the actual compounding, the hiring and firing and the paper work. She also served as her father’s eyes as Clarance was almost blind from glaucoma. About this time, it was noted that Meinecke and Co. was selling a back rub lotion called Varick Lotion which was really the product Dermassage Lotion, manufactured by the Edison Chemical Co. of Chicago. Our suggestions to Meinecke that we make their lotion was OK’d. We has the lotion developed by Dr. Paul Goodloe, Chemist with Mobile Oil Co. and a Colgate-Palmolive cosmetic chemist plus help from Clarance Spalding. Meinecke insisted on certain specifications, including the color green and the inclusion of menthol and camphor. It was a great lotion if you liked the odor of camphor. Fortunately, it did not sell too well as in this post-war period of shortages, bottles were difficult to get as was olive oil, glycerin, and other ingredients. One result of taking the lotion business away from Edison was that they soon brought out a product called Edisonite Cleaner, to compete with Haemo-sol.

Also, during this period a man named Ralph Buck retired. He had been in charge of the sales office of the Grasselli Division of DuPont in the Empire State Building. Ralph couldn’t stand staying home with his wife, so Meinceke and Polychem hired him to detail Haemo-sol in the New York, CT and NJ areas to hospitals and Industrial laboratories. Ralph was a distinguished looking, immaculately dressed 65 year old gentleman that made prospects feel compelled to listen to his story. Meinecke and Polychem shared his salary ($1200 per year, so as not to interfere with his Social Security) plus his expenses. Ralph worked under this arrangement until 3 weeks before his death in approximately 1956, after 6-7 years.

Around 1946, we signed a contract to make an instrument cleaner called N-33 for the National Casket Co. of Boston. After signing the 80 year old manager of the Embalming Supply Division drove us in his old Chevrolet from Cambridge to the Parker House for lunch. The notable thing about this was that he introduced me to Boston Mayor Curley. Curley was elected one time while in prison. He was one of the clan which included the Fitzgeralds and Kennedys. The product N33 was never a great success in spite of extensive advertising in their journal “Sunnyside and Casket”.

In 1948, Haemo-sol was exhibited in Minneapolis at the Society of American Bacteriologists (whose name a few years later was changed to American Society of Microbiologists). This was the first of many meetings during the next twenty years that Meinecke bought the space and Polychem supplied the products and man-power. At this meeting one of the prospects we met was Dr. Jonas Salk, before he became famous.

Clarance Spalding died in December, 1949. Fortunately his daughter Eleanor was able to take over quite capably so our manufacturing arrangement was not affected.

William H. Buell, Sr. died in December 1950. That left me in charge of Operations subject to veto by President Raymond W. Marshall.

At this time Polychem Corporation had a gross business of approximately $70,000 per year and has 21 active employees, one office girl and myself. And two weeks later, the girl resigned so she could join her husband on a rabbit farm selling fur to the felt hat industry. We all know what happened to felt hats, especially after we got a hatless President in 1960.

After my father’s death, it took about 8 months to get everything straightened out. There were squabbles with Marshall. He questioned my father’s expense accounts and demanded he receive the same under the contract that they should share equally. Also, my father had died in debt. By the time the company paid off to Marshall what he thought to be his share and I had paid off my father’s debts, the company and I were both nearly broke. My brother and sister were upset that I had inherited all of the stocks of my father’s 50% of Polychem. Also, no one including Marshall, thought I was capable of running the company. At that time, we were still under price and wage controls, so I was unable to get a raise with my new position and therefore Marshall had to take a cut to come down to my level. I must explain here that Raymond Marshall was a very wealthy man. About this time he moved from a ten room Park Avenue apartment to a waterfront house on Mead Point, Greenwich CT, that had 13 bathrooms, an 8-10 car garage, a basement English pub that had been brought over from England, and shortly afterwards acquired a 97 foot boat with a crew of seven. I finally found the secret of getting along with him. I hired and befriended his lawyer.

Life went on. Marshall had other worries than Polychem. I became close to the president of Meinecke, got to know their salesmen, went to more and more sales meetings and started advertising in the journals. Sales increased and Polychem prospered.

The following were the obstacles to Polychem’s success:
1.) We were a one product (Haemo-sol) company with one customer (Meinecke).
2.) We did not control our manufacturing.
3.) We has no R&D. No laboratory facilities.
4.) We still were in a one room, one clerical worker and myself, office at 501 5th. Avenue. One shipment per month, one invoice per month, one deposit to the bank per month.
5.) Meinecke’s contract restricted Polychem’s sales activities.
6.) The Buell-Marshall contract whereby Marshall had to receive the same compensation as Buell, tied up cash that could have gone for expansion. Marshall was a totally silent president. Employees and customers never laid eyes on him.
7.) I was wasting my time in this office and had become a slave to the Long Island Railroad, and the 3 1/2 hours a day commuting from Huntington to New York.
8.) Our only customer – Meinecke Company, deserved some or perhaps a lot of worry. There was little supervision over their salesmen. Some of them used their Meinecke job as a moonlighting situation apart from their regular job and headquarters seemed unaware. The president’s main worry was to make the annual dividend payment to parent Armstrong Cork Co. Meinecke was older than American Hospital Co., but were a fraction of their size. Meinecke had missed the boat.

These were all worries that demanded attention. Most of the above problems were eventually worked out, though some took 20 years or more to be resolved.

With the above in mind, we started to look for a suitable factory building. To go back to where one came from made sense. So our search centered on the New Haven area. This covered 1954 and 1955.

Before getting to deep in our pending move, the following should be mentioned. In late 40s and early 50s, Gordon Marshall, Publisher of Hospital Topics, with the help of our old friend Edith Hall, ORS Polyclinic Hospital, started the Association of Operating Nurses. Every month, Hospital Topics announced new chapters around the country. Their efforts were partially backed by Ethicon division of Johnson & Johnson. They had their first convention in late winter 1954 at the Hotel New Yorker. The product Haemo-sol was exhibited with a Meinecke salesman and I working the booth. There were 300 to 400 nurses in attendance. This became a very important meeting for Polychem, not just for the nursing and hospital contacts, but for the contacts we made with industry including instrument manufacturers and various distributors. In my career, I went to over 30 of these annual meetings. The last one I went to there were approximately 7000 nurses and 5000 exhibitor personnel in attendance. It became such a large meeting that there were only about 6 locations large enough to handle them.

In 1954, we put in a bid for a building in Milford. The Gods were with us. It was turned down. It would have been a disaster.

Early in 1955, we found what we were looking for, made a bid on this 4000 sq. ft. building, plus a wood storage shed in the back located at 10-12 Lyman Street, New Haven, CT. It belonged to the Larson Bowling Alley Company, manufacturers of duck pin alleys and the duck pins. The wood floors in the offices were pieces of bowling alleys. This was a dying business with the post-war craze for big pin alleys. The closing and date of occupancy was April 1, 1955. That day a small truck carrying all of Polychem’s worldly goods arrived from New York. Within the next few days, all of the raw materials, finished stock, equipment and personnel were moved from Woodmont (Milford) to Lyman Street. Eleanor Spalding became office manager, foreman, and shipping clerk,. Woodmont workers were all part time. Only one elected to come to New Haven. Polychem’s first full time male other than myself was an ex-tugboat captain who was willing and able to do everything. He retired after 20 years with us. The first piece of equipment we purchased was a fork lift aptly named “Power OX”.

During 1954 and 1955, I gave a lot of thought to the Lotion business. The sales of Varick Lotion were poor. The best year we has was 12,000 8 oz. bottles. At meetings we went to even the giving out of 4 oz. samples became a problem. Every day or two, a bottle would slip through nurses hands and crash to the floor leaving a mess of broken glass and lotion. This was the period when plastic bottles started to slowly appear. I was determined to have a new lotion and that it would be in a plastic bottle. I also was very excited over the prospect. The new building and soon-to-be out fitted cellar laboratory would help make all this happen.

Now with a laboratory we needed a chemist to formulate the product. We hired a Yale graduate school chemist working for his Ph.D. He worked one day and the next day without telling us sent his friend in. Once again we were lucky. The second student turned out to be Jim McKeon, who years later became Vice President of R&D for Union Carbide CO. Jim McKeon, a graduate of Weslyan University with an MA from John Hopkins U. was enthusiastic, interested in his work and needed the money. It was agreed that he would work as many hours as possible day or night, weekday or week end, whenever his schedule would allow. All of this for $2.50 per hour. Jim was with us for almost four years.

So the basement of the now headquarters at 10-12 Lyman Street became the laboratory as well as lunch room and also housed the only other lavatory than the one for the office, complete with a shower. The stove top laboratory work benches were hand me down from Yale University’s Chemical Laboratories on Prospect Street and had been used during W.W.II for work connected with the Manhattan Project. It also contained a paint mill used to mix the product Aftex Socket Paste (more on this product later).

This 100/ x 40’ building plus its adjoining dilapidated wood shed cost $30,000 which we paid for with cash and took over the existing $7,500 mortgage which was with the American Bank on the corner of Grand Avenue and Ferry Street. The American Bank eventually was purchased by the Second National Bank, Second New Haven Bank, Colonial Bank, and finally the Bank of Boston-Connecticut.
The detergent powder mixer was installed over the small basement furnace in the back of what is called the shop in the space that Larson intended to make into a wood kiln. The original furnace was fueled by scraps of wood from the bowling alley manufacture. The big shop room was where we filled the cans of Haemo-sol and stored raw materials and finished goods. The empty Haemo-sol cans (by now all metal, supplied by the National Can Company) were stored in the shed.

Eventually, Jim McKeon developed a lotion which was approved by all including our only sales outlet, Meinecke & Company. The lotion was white and also contained Hexachlorophene, a necessary ingredient at the time. It also was lightly fragranced with an essential oil from Givaudan – Delawana who also supplied the Hexachlorophen (Gill) through their subsidiary Sindar.

In the mean time, we scoured the market for a plastic bottle that would be attractive and affordable. The largest manufacturer was Plax ( later on, Monsanto) of Hartford and Deep River. Unfortunately, they charged about 12 cents for an 8-oz bottle. Finally we located from American Can Company a plastic, metal top and bottom, bottle that would be delivered to us complete with a closure and fully decorated. It was taller than the glass bottles we currently used and it’s circumference was considerably smaller. Meinecke wished the new lotion to be called New Varick Lotion (a name I disliked). With less label space I was able to persuade Meinecke that the name was too long to look attractive, so we settled on V-Lo as a name. Fortunately we found out that V-Lo was the trade mark for another company. At this time, Eleanor Spalding was reading an article in RN Magazine about pediatric patients and how much T.L.C. they needed. She looked up and said “How about ‘T.L.C. Lotion’?”

We immediately gave our new name to our patent and trade mark attorney, Dr. Robert Calvert, in New York. He also was Ph.D. Chemist and was a contemporary of my father (a plaque on the wall showed he had graduated from High School in the territory of Oklahoma, prior to it’s statehood). After his search, he told us there was a conflict and advised us to abandon the idea of T.L.C. as a name for our lotion. Instead, we abandoned Dr. Calvert and his firm and hired Davis, Hoxie, Faithful, & Hapgood law firm. Within a relatively short time they had the T.L.C. mark registered and best of all, Polychem (not Meinecke) owned it.

Now that we had a name and the lotion was ready, it was time to order the bottles. American Can notified us they needed product to test in the bottles to see if it was compatible with their material. The first report back was that it was not. We sent up another batch and it was finally O.K.

Then, American Can told us that the minimum order they would accept was 100,000 bottles with 50,000 to be delivered at once and the balance to be taken in six months. Having never sold more than 12,000 bottles in a year, this was a shocker. But as it turned out, this policy was responsible for the early success of T.L.C. Lotion. Taking in all those bottles gave me the courage to go to Meinecke and dictate to them how much we would charge and more important, how much they would charge their customers. We gave them a graduated price list for both Meinecke and their customers. To make sure there was no mistake, we insisted on printing up the price lists.

The bottles finally arrived. On Good Friday, I drove to Brooklyn, NY in a station wagon and picked up our first bottle filling machine.

We made our first shipment of T.L.C. Lotion to Meinecke on April 1, 1958. Several weeks later, we attended the bi-annual meeting of the American Nurses Association (A.N.A.) in Atlantic City. We had no sample bottles nor 4 oz. bottles, only several cases of 8 oz. bottles and nowhere enough to hand out one per attendee. Paul Murray, Meinecke’s Sales Manager and I were in attendance and we spent 4 days rubbing lotion on nurses’ hands and even on the arms of those that were sun-burned. We were the hit of the meeting, much to the consternation of our next door neighbor, the Borden Company, with six representatives trying to demonstrate their line of super non-allergenic cosmetics.

The only size we had were 8-oz. bottles packaged 3 dozen per carton. Varick Lotion was packaged 2 dozen glass bottles per case. Both cases weighed the same so now we had big savings on freight and corrugated cartons.

Several weeks after the Atlantic City Meeting, I attended a Medical Technologists meting in Milwaukee demonstrating the product Haemo-sol at the Hotel Shroeder. Dr. Ted Anderson at Temple University Medical School called me with bad news, a set back to our promising beginnings with T.L.C. Lotion. All of our new lotion was contaminated with Pseudomonas Aeruginosa. You the reader may well ask how we could be so stupid.

Up to that time, few in the industry paid much attention to bacterial contamination. Varick Lotion had always been made with unfiltered water from the tap and never heated to pasteurization temperatures with never a complaint or odor problem. The explanation being that it was packaged in glass, which provided limited air supply for the bacteria to survive, while polyethylene, even high density, apparently transmits sufficient air for bacteria. Also the plastic bottle gives tell-tale signs of bacterial contamination by collapsing, due the to vacuum created by the bacteria’s’ metabolic activity. When American Can first told us our product was not compatible with their bottles, no mention of bacteria was made. Meinecke was told to hold up on all shipments. For the first time we started testing each batch for bacteria. We bought an incubator and a supply of blood plates as well as sending all batch samples to Ted Anderson at Temple for testing.

As soon as our blood plates supply arrived, I purchased about 15 different lotion type products at the drug store. All but one, Johnson & Johnson Baby Lotion, tested positive. Mennen’s Baby Lotion has problems on into the 1960’s. Years later when we were packing admission kits, Mennen supplied us with Baby Powder and some lotion. One Christmas Eve, F.D.A. arrived and bought packages of each Mennen product we had on the premises. Our other lesson we learned was that Hexachlorophene was ineffective on gram negative organisms.
It was at this time we augmented our paraben preservative system with sorbic acid. This lowered the pH which in later years gave us a sales advantage.

Right after the 4th of July, I drove the station wagon down to New York and to 225 Varick Street where I loaded up with all the contaminated lotion which Meinecke had on hand. From there I drove up to the old Henry Hudson Hotel on West 57th Street where my old 4th Infantry Division was having a three day reunion. When I picked up the station wagon from the public garage on Sunday, it was hot and the smell from the lotion was almost unbearable on the drive back to New Haven.

“And this too shall pass.”, in the immortal words of King Solomon. And so it did. Sales picked up. It got so we made lotion every day. We added a 100 gal tank to the 50 gallon one. In fact, it was not long afterwards that we bought a 150 gallon tank, all from the Alsop Company in Milldale, CT. We were forced to take one second shipment of 50,000 bottles before the date American specified.

During the first six months of T.L.C. Lotion, a real shocker of an order was sent in by the Ohio salesman. It called for 864 bottles to be shipped every month for one year. There was one catch. Every bottle had to have the hospital name and a sketch of its building imprinted on the bottle and be drop shipped to the Good Samaritan Hospital in Dayton, Ohio.

That meant we needed to silk screen a bottle with their name and picture. Neither I nor anyone else at Polychem had any knowledge or even idea as to what silk screening was. But like so many other times, the fates were good to us. The next week, I went down to New York to attend a cosmetic-pharmaceutical packaging show. I had not been at the show for more than 20 minutes when low and behold, I walked into an exhibit by the Dependable Machine Co. of Manhattan. They were silk screening plastic bottles. It looked like it did a good job, so I bought the silk screener on the spot for $800.00 and that was before I found any bottles.

We had been doing business for a number of years with the Wilson Glass Co. of Brooklyn. The salesman was Albert Seamier, who during W.W.II had his boat sunk and spent 5 days in the Atlantic. This ordeal caused him to lose all his skin at the time. The president was the son of the founder. While his real name was Wilson, he went by his stage name, Craft. He had an impressive handlebar mustache and was a frustrated stage actor. They found an affordable 8 oz. bottle (our only size) made by the Continental Can Co. in Chicago. Carl Conway had been a classmate of my father’s at Yale, so we had some pull.

The bottles arrived along with the silk screener. We put the Dependable Screener in the basement along with the lotion tanks, the lotion filler, new hot water tank, lunch room, and laboratory. The basement became a busy place.

The question now was how do we make this screening thing work. Once again we were lucky. We found a small shop on West Rock Avenue in Westville called Sirocco. The owner was a nice older gentleman, always dressed in old clothes in an office with a roll top desk and several lathes, etc. His name was Paul Sperry. While most unassuming, Paul was most knowledgeable and most helpful. He became a good friend of Polychem. In addition to running Sirocco, his hobby, he also was CEO of the Pond Lilly Dye Co. and the inventor of the Sperry Top Sider shoe, which any one who ever had a boat knows about. Sirocco made the screens and Paul Sperry showed how to operate our new printer. We made a bunch of trays to set the printed bottles on so they could dry over night. For the first few weeks, I did all the printing so that I could learn the process and thus be able to teach others.

To those who now are at Polychem and read this, it may amaze you to know that all of this was done in the basement at 12 Lyman Street, a space roughly 40’ x 16’, as I remember it. All the lotion tanks, filler, printing, furnace, laboratory benches, lunch table, dishwasher, hot water tanks, etc. were all in the basement so that lotion manufacturing, packaging, printing, laboratory functions, coffee break and lunch were all there.

Now that we were personalizing bottles, sales increased steadily. For the first few years of T.L.C. Lotion, we offered only 8 oz. bottles and gallon jugs. The hospital could pick out any color ink they desired. We brought a small filling machine to fill one ounce sample bottles. At A.N.A. Conventions, we brought along as many as 7000 samples and the nurses gobbled them up.

When we found out our first lady Jacqueline Kennedy was pregnant we decided to present to her, while still in the hospital, a case of T.L.C. Lotion personalized with the baby’s name, date of birth, and weight, plus a baby picture. As the time came, all had been previously arranged with the typesetter, screen maker, air schedule, DC salesman and even as how to get the case past the FBI When John F. Kennedy, Jr. finally arrived, all went smoothly, the newly printed personalized bottles with baby John’s statistics and artists conception of baby’s smiling face and still warm lotion were delivered to the New Haven Airport, put on the plane, picked up at Washington National Airport by the Meinecke salesman, and, believe it or not, delivered to Jacqueline’s bedside in less than 72 hours. How did it get past the FBI Simple! We went to someone more powerful than the FBI. We had Georgetown Hospital’s Mother-Superior make the delivery. We also sent one case to every salesman on the road.

These were exciting times for Polychem as we waited for new personalized orders to come in from all corners of the country. Such prestigious institutions as Walter Reed, Presbyterian NY, Mass General, and even the hospital in Hamilton, Bermuda.

During this period, late 50’s and early 60’s a new development was happening which affected Polychem through the years. It started in Nashville, Tenn. when Baptist Hospital with the help and/or urging of a Meinecke salesman, Bill Cude, developed what is believed to be the first admission kit and it contained T.L.C. Lotion as well as toothbrush and paste, tissues, mouth wash, comb, etc. packed in a plastic zipper bag screened with hospital picture. The bags were made in New York City by a charming man named Frank Mink. Bull Cude left Meinecke and started a company just to assemble kits and at first had only one customer, Meinecke. More on kit business later.

During this time our Haemo-sol business steadily increased. We introduced a low foam product for machine washing. With the help of Jim McKeon and Ted Anderson, we did a great deal of testing on cleaner efficiency and rinseability to find out how clean and residue free surfaces really were. Tests were done and published on etching of glassware, effect on back pressure of glass syringes. Our literature and advertising were upgraded. We exhibited at Microbiology meetings, Medical Technology shows, and at the Federation of American Societies for Experimental Biology, which at that time happened to be the largest scientific meeting in the world. Attendance ran over 20,000. It was usually held in Atlantic City or Chicago and lasted 5 days, often during Holy week, ending at 3:00 p.m. on Good Friday. One year I handled our exhibit all alone with two of the days having hours of 9:00 a.m. to 10:00p.m. That’s a long time to stand up. With all of this, we developed a good size laboratory glassware cleaning business with universities and industry. There were customers like Pfizer, Smith Kline & French, Sandoz, DuPont, Eli Lilli and even Lever Brothers. We were fortunate that the large soapers thought this business was too small to bother with. Then gradually things began to happen. Plastics arrived. Gradually plastic disposable petri dishes replaced glass and plastic syringes and disposable needles arrived. Mount Sinai in NYC used to have approximately a 2000 sq. ft. room with about 30 employees who washed, inspected and assembled syringes and needles going full blast every day of the week. With disposables, all of this, jobs and space ( and cleaner) disappeared. Never the less, sales on the cleaners (Haemo-sol) increased every year and this product, for which Polychem was formed, continued to pay all the bills and supported the fledgling T.L.C. Lotion. Polychem became cleaning experts and were often asked for advice. The product started to appear in text books. In a letter from South Africa we learned that Haemo-sol was mentioned in Dr. Andre Cournand’s book. Dr. Cournand was the first to do catheterization of the heart and he recommended Haemo-sol for the cleaning of these catheters. For this work he received the Nobel prize. I might mention that his first successful experiment occurred when he catheterized his own heart while sitting in front of an x-ray machine. How did we get into some of these “Giants” with Haemo-sol. At a FASEB meeting one year a representative from Mead Johnson was so impressed they sent in their spring order for 300 5 lb. containers (3/4 ton)! On another occasion, at an ASM meeting, we ran into a microbiologist from Eli Lili in the Blackstone Hotel restaurant that started a relationship between us that lasted for many years (maybe until today). At another FASEB meeting, a man from Pfizer laboratories in Groton CT invited us to sample all of the small labs there (30 or 40 of them) with Haemo-sol and paved the way for us to also talk to the personnel that operated the big automatic glass washers. This resulted in years of orders in tons for the automatics and many 5-lb. containers for the individual labs. Their we got into many labs because of the personnel who had studied under our Dr. Ted Anderson or who just knew him. Such included Smith Klein & French, Merck, Univ. of Wisconsin, Univ. of New Hampshire, Harvard, Dartmouth and Bethesda. Every month or so we shipped about a ton of Haemo-sol packed in drums to Marz & Dadi in Bern, Switzerland. Dr. Merz ran a medical technology school in Bern with students from all of Europe. He packaged the Haemo-sol in small containers and sold it to his students when they returned to their home countries. We also shipped considerable amounts of Haemo-sol to the Alfred Cox Company in England.

During these years the silent 50% owner of Polychem, Raymond W. Marshall, still President of both Polychem and Alaska Airlines, moved from his 5th Avenue NYC apartment to Mead Point, Greenwich with his wife. The house was on the water, Tudor style, with a dozen bathrooms, 8-9 car garage, an English pub brought over from England and installed in the basement, et cetera, et cetera. Mr. Marshall and his wife were driving to Florida to look at a yacht for sale in Miami when they stopped for lunch in a Carolina Howard Johnson Restaurant. Mrs. Marshall died at the table. This was a very sad funeral at their new house. You may notice I always refer to him as Mr. Marshall. In the 25 years I knew him, I never heard anyone call him by his first name, including his wife and brother-in-law. He had one son who died within a week or two after entering Yale. He died from a foot infection before the days of penicillin. Mr. Marshall finally bought a 97 foot boat that required a crew of seven. The boat had a 4000 gal. tank and a 5000 gallon one to hold the diesel fuel and water. His cabin and the guest cabins had private baths. He took my son Bill and me out for a ride once. When it was lunch time, young Bill and another child aboard had to eat with the crew while the adults sat down to a table set with fine china and sterling silverware and served by a butler. One of the passengers that day was his lawyer who years before had been Babe Ruth’s lawyer. He had his office in the Woolworth Building in NYC. He told a story that has nothing to do with anything other than it is interesting. One day Babe Ruth and Lou Gerig came to his office in late morning to discuss some matters. When finished about 1:00 p.m., the three came out to go to lunch by which time approximately 25,000 people had congregated on the street outside of the Woolworth building to catch sight of the celebrities.

Now back to the story at hand. Another day this lawyer called me and said he had a client in Stamford who owned a small business and it was for sale. This man was in retirement after a life time in fur business and according to him, the inventor of the skinless hot dog. His new business operating out of a store front had several interesting products and a portion pak machine plus several good trade marks. One of the trade marks was “Fantastic” for a cleaner. He was asking $90,000. I and our new (the first) sales manager who I have not mentioned yet, were enthusiastic. It included several products we believed could be marketed to our trade immediately. However, Raymond Marshall was adamantly against this small acquisition. His lawyer friend wanted a $5000 finders fee and he further stated that no gentile could make a business successful that a Jew had failed at. Amen! I still think Polychem made a mistake.

Around this same time – the early 1960’s – the Armstrong Lock company (now Armstrong World Industries) decided to sell Meinecke & Company. Burleigh Jennings, Meinecke’s president, came to Polychem and tried to interest us in buying them. They were really doing about 2,000,000 per year and Haemo-sol was on of their 5 biggest products. Another was red rubber bed sheeting, which disappeared in a few years. All one was buying was an inventory and sales force which sparsely covered the U.S. We decided against this purchase. This time we did not make a mistake.

A hospitable distributor named Cerico in Chicago almost bought Meinecke. A few years later they went out of business. Finally a group of men in Baltimore became Meinecke’s new owners. For some months, business went on a usual and apparently Burleigh Jennings, Meinecke’s president, had a good relationship with the new owners. I never did meet any of the new owners, even though I made a point of going to New York almost every Friday to call on Meinecke at 225 Varick Street. After checking in with all departments, including stock room inventories, I usually ended up having lunch with president Burleigh Jennings at Renata’s restaurant on Van Dam Street. While at Renata’s, I got to know Max Lowe, CEO of IPCO Hospital Supply Co., friend and competitor of Burleigh Jennings. Max Lowe’s son-in-law Bob Savin acted as president of IPCO. In addition, Lowe controlled the Savin Copy Machine Company, which became nationally known.

Within a year, there was a stock market crisis that affected the Baltimore group. Jennings phoned me and announced that the new owner of Meinecke would be at Polychem the next morning. Not having any relevant files or notes, I believe it was the year 1963 when, that next morning, in walked George Banks IV and his attractive wife. Banks was about 33 years old and reportedly a financial whiz, a graduate of Wharton, had made a killing in the stock market, owned a plastic bottle company in Baltimore, a stereo component factory, part owner of the Colt Bowling Alleys along with Johnny Unitas, and part owner of the new fancy eating club in Baltimore, as well as an art supply company. His wife, Barbara (I think) presented me with a sweat shirt with the printed message “All I need is some T.L.C.”.

A few weeks later, probably October, I got another phone call with the message “be in Mr. Jennings office tomorrow morning at 11:00 a.m.”. That I was. George Banks insisted I be there so I could hear my friend Burleigh Jennings say he was resigning of his own free will and was not being fired. Once this was over and before I left Meinecke’s office, I was introduced to the new president, Bill Burch. In fact, I was asked to give Burch a guided tour of Meinecke. It was a strange day.

And George Banks methods and actions were no less strange. Here it was October and Bill Burch was picked as the new president, but not to start until January. Also, he came from the Brunswick Bulk CO., the bowling alley division. So Meinecke faced a two month pilotless hiatus which, as it turned out, cost them. Within weeks, Max Lowe made Burleigh Jennings a Vice president of IPCO, with his first mission to sign up Meinecke salesmen for IPCO. He did persuade six to eight Meinecke men to come to IPCO. Jennings other new mission was to persuade Polychem to give IPCO the sales right to T.L.C. Lotion. Haemo-sol was out of the question, as Meinecke owned the trade mark. Without any deliberation, I turned down this offer. It surely would have meant a law suit plus we had to protect the Haemo-sol business which was still supporting the company. Burleigh Jennings claimed he left Meinecke because the first thing George Banks did as owner was to raid their bank account.

January and Bill Burch finally arrived. Also arriving was the new Vice President, Ralph Stanford from the Kendall Company. To introduce the new team, Burch held three whirlwind meetings in one week in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles. In the coming weeks they announced they would move their headquarters to Cockeysville, Maryland, make 225 Varick Street the Northeastern headquarters and establish regional offices in Atlanta, Dallas and Los Angeles.

Burch had no experience in the health care field and it often showed. Once in his new fancy office in Cockeysville with its private shower and leather walls, I could not help but notice that the only magazines displayed were Fortune. No hospital or trade publications. Ralph Stanford was experienced, well known in the field, an intellectual and conscientious. He perhaps was better suited in product development and research. Stanford stated that his job was to increase sales and to make Meinecke something more than the Haemo-sol and T.L.C. company. I might mention that this never came to pass.

Once they got their regional office in place and had moved headquarters to Maryland, they promoted their best salesmen to be branch managers. That plus the men they lost to IPCO left them with few experienced men in the field.

To take advantage of what we hoped would be a new, aggressive, growth minded Meinecke, Polychem hired for the first time a sales manager, Roger Hyde, a graduate of Babson Institute. He moved to Westbrook, CT. from Northern New York State. He was young, had experience selling to hospitals and to the wholesalers, as well as having worked with many Meinecke salesmen who gave him high marks.

Hyde’s main responsibility was to travel with the Meinecke salesman and teach them how to sell T.L.C. Lotion and Haemo-sol. Shortly after he started, an agreement was worked out with Meinecke that allowed Polychem to sell T.L.C. products to local dealers where Meinecke had no coverage. In this new endeavor, Hyde’s main success was to sign up the Munns Company in Topeka, Kansas.

One interesting period for Polychem was our effort to sell T.L.C. Lotion through retail drug stores to the general public. It was a fascinating, expensive, and unsuccessful experience. We signed up with New Haven’s TV Channel 8 for 13 weeks of commercials which included about 7-8 per week. We has a professionally done commercial made which included a nurse advising people with skin problems how and when to use T.L.C. Lotion. In the midst of it they had to start over because they found the nurse was not an RN, as regulations called for. We also had radio commercials made and signed up with WELI, WTIC, the 50,000 Watt Schenectady station, and many stations in Maine, Boston, Providence, and Worcester. We also signed up for small newspaper ads throughout New England and part of New York. Also, an outfit called “Luncheon is Served” gave out T.L.C. Samples and a speech on its merits. They did all this at church luncheons throughout Connecticut and Massachusetts. The price of one bottle in the drug store was $1.00. The whole sale druggist paid $1.00 less 40% and 20%, or $0.48 each. By the time the 13 weeks were up, each bottle sold cost Polychem $1.50. Another time, we took a shot at Colorado by running a bunch of small ads in all the significant newspapers. First, though, we sent one free bottle of T.L.C. Lotion to each drugstore so they would have it in stock when the ads broke. That didn’t work either.

Shortly after all of this the IRS came in. During these years, there was a 10% luxury tax on all cosmetics and they wanted to collect it, not only on retail sales, but also on all hospital sales. Polychem always claimed T.L.C. Lotion was a drug and not a cosmetic. It did contain hexachlorophene. We fought this vigorously. After about a year, we had a hearing in Washington. We went to Washington with our lawyer, Dr. Anderson and myself, plus Meinecke’s Vice President and their lawyer. After a couple of months, they handed down the decision that in drug or department stores, T.L.C. Lotion was a cosmetic and in hospitals, it was a drug. In another month or two the luxury tax was repealed.

Before all the turmoil at Meinecke, Polychem had started to build on a 7,000 sq.ft. addition. At this time, the office force consisted of Eleanor Spalding and Betty Milano, who lived across the street on the 2nd floor of the middle house. Milano’s father worked in a machine tool shop and often moonlighted doing machine repairs for Polychem. There were no laboratory personnel because there was no room for them nor room for more office people. The printing of bottles had been moved up to what is not the back part of the office, a narrow area partitioned off.

This new addition would solve many problems. All operations except the laboratory would be moved out of the basement. There would be a room for lotion which would allow us to get large mixing tanks and a second filling line so we could have a 4 oz. T.L.C. for which there was a crying need. Another room was to be for printing plus a new conveyor dryer. This eliminated the need for a full time person to set up printed bottles on shelves to air dry. It also allowed us to get a second printer and more than double production. That meant we could print 15,000 to 20,000 per day. We has one operator who on occasion did as many as 13,000 per day. We considered farming out the printing but we had too many personalized hospital bottle. Then we were able to move the Haemo-sol mixer mill to the back of the new addition and in its place, put in a lavatory with a shower. In addition, it gave us more storage area, a help in buying more economically. We ended up with an enlarged, more efficient office. We also ended up with added worries over the “new” Meinecke. This new addition was finished in 1963 or 1964 and cost about $60,000, which we were able to pay without resorting to the bank. Twenty years later, after buying the house and property next door, we had plans drawn up for a 10,000 sq. ft. addition. I hoped we could do it for $500,000. When the estimates came in for $1,000,000, I abandoned all such thoughts.

Once Meinecke had their new headquarters operating in Cockeysville, Maryland, (changing NYC Varick Street into a district office) I had a new duty. At least once a month, I drove down to Maryland for meetings. At this time, Meinecke took over the assembly of admission kits from the Custom Kit Company in Nashville. Vice President Ralph Stanford asked us to make a private label mouthwash for them. After much trouble getting an alcohol permit, T.L.C. Hospital Mouth Rinse was born. There were two big problems. Number one was that Cepacol Mouth Rinse was available to hospitals ( as well as dealers) for about 10 cents delivered. Number two was that our alcohol permit allowed us to have only two 55 gallon drums of Alcohol in storage, so that our cost was over $1.00 per gallon more than the big company’s tank wagon’s price. These two problems plus lack of significant sales, made us change to an alcohol free mouth rinse. That turned out to be a was move. The absence of alcohol and the embossed bottle made us competitive. And many institutions preferred a non-alcoholic product.

The year 1965 brought many changes. Meinecke’s President Bill Burch and Vice President Ralph Stanford left. Ken Coty came in a president. He had been a Vice President of Clay Adams Co. until they were acquired by Becton Dickenson. Jack Lucks, the new Vice president had been with A.S. Aloe in St. Louis which interestingly had been acquired by Brunswick Balk and I believe, eventually evolved into the Sherwood Co. I often wondered if Ken Coty ever realized what he was getting into.

Also in 1965, Roger Hyde, our Sales Manager, announced that he was thinking of leaving to sell for Encyclopedia Britannica. I made him a counter offer, however he was swayed by looking at some of their 1099’s. He lasted about 3 months and then went with a competitor of ours, Linbro products of New Haven. After a few months there, he moved his family out to Montana.

On the evening of February 17, 1965, Eleanor Spalding and Bill Buell were married before a small group of friends and Polychem employees., followed by a reception at the Seven Gables Restaurant on the Corner of Church and Grove Streets, an Italian Restaurant now long gone.

With this new team, our sales still increased. They, like the last group, were unable to change Meinceke into other than a Haemo-sol – T.L.C. Company. But there were storm signals every once in a while. George Banks, the owner was a rascal and prone to odd behavior. We heard that his plastics factory was in trouble and ditto for the stereo component factory. His father-in-law Chester Wadicka ( I am guessing on the spelling) apparently loaned Meinecke or George much money and was now getting itchy. This is the father-in-law who had a lock on all of the supply business for Jersey City Medical Center. Some times our invoices were not paid on time. Then it got to the point where their checks started to bounce. We had to hold up on shipments. At times we had to hold up so long that we had to invent jobs for Polychem people instead of laying them off. This was one time my fiscal conservatism paid off. We did survive.

In the midst of all this, Polychem’s president and 50% stock holder, Raymond W. Marshall, died at the age of 85. The $3,000 he put into Polychem on a percentage I suspect was one of the best investments he ever made. At the end of year two, he recovered his investment and them some. After that he never received less than a five figure amount. I thought it would be nice if he willed me the stock, but such was not the case. A bank in Greenwich was the executor and for the moment, my partner. They had to approve of all purchases, etc. He had no family heirs. We had to negotiate the purchase of his stock with the bank. The worse thing to happen was when one of Meinecke’s salesmen saw the obituary and called George Banks. The first thing George did was to send in two offers, one direct and the other through his New Haven lawyer. To further complicate matters, Alaska Airlines and Henry Luce. Jr. sued the estate. Through our lawyer, John Barclay, we got hold of a special report on George Banks in which it listed approximately 30 items of litigation against him at the time. This report scared the bank into selling Raymond Marshal’s stock to us at the appraised value. This was a big relief. It was at this time that I became President.

During this period, Harry Madden in Boston, our New England drug store sales representive introduced us to Arthur Gormley. Gormley, an ex-pharmacist, had been vice-president in charge of sales for the medical division of the Schenley Whiskey Company. Their main product was penicillin and the target was hospital supply dealers. Realizing that Meinecke’s days were numbered, we hired Gormley and made him Vice President in charge of sales. (A good trivia question for you to try on your doctor – Who was the first company to make and sell penicillin? It is doubtful he will answer Schenley.)

Within days of hiring Gormley, the Boston salesman Harry Halliday left Meinecke and went to Thomas Reed Co. in Boston as Sales Manager. Halliday had been with Meinecke for over 20 years, was either Number one or Number two man for gross sales, and undoubtedly Number One for net profit and a good friend of Polychem. This was the first call Gormley made when the two of us went up to Boston for a lunch meeting with Halliday and the President of Thomas Reed. They asked for the T.L.C. line. I finally said yes, assuming that Meinecke would soon be history. Meinecke’s owner, George Banks and President Ken Coty raised the devil with me. They were mad. They still didn’t pay the considerable money they owed Polychem.

Our main interest in Meinecke at this stage was not only to get paid but to somehow get ownership of the trade mark Haemo-sol. It was still our most profitable product. Meinecke at one point went Chapter 11 but quickly came out. When Chapter 11 as per our contract, Polychem could purchase the mark at a price arrived at through the American Bureau of Arbitration. Our two law firms were unable to enforce this clause. At the time we Thompson, Weis, and Barclay ( John Barclay who was also corporate attorney for Armstrong Rubber) and Venable, Bactzer, and Howard in Baltimore. The opposing attorney in Baltimore was Peter Parker who happened to be the son-in-law of the Monson of Monsons Art Gallery on Orange Street, New Haven. Parker was also mixed up with the Maryland Republican Party and Spiro Agnew. Bob Schmaltz, the attorney who worked with Barclay is still active with another firm located on the Northwest corner of Whitney and Grove Streets. At one point, ex-president Bill Burch brought action against Meinecke and was going to cooperate with us. One Friday, the unorthodox loan company for Banks and Meinecke phoned and asked me to meet at their office and they would assign us the Trade Mark Haemo-sol. Saturday morning, Barclay, Bua, and I drove to Baltimore to the office of the loan people. Unfortunately, George Banks got to them first with a new nasty lawyer who almost got into fisticuffs with John Barclay. There were several other meetings in New Haven which included Banks, New Haven attorney who was with Tyler, Cooper. There was even a big New York meeting at the offices of Davis, Polk, one of New York’s’ most prestigious and most expensive law firms.

Finally, an agreement was worked out where Meinecke would pay Polychem what they owed plus a little extra and we would go our separate ways, unfortunately with Meinecke regaining the trade mark. Banks formed a new company, Haemo-sol Inc. with the stock in trust for his children. The trustee was the Bank of Bermuda. Once everything was thrown out in the street from the Cockeysville building that was the end of Meinecke.

It was both the end and the new beginning of Polychem Corporation. Incidentally, everything was signed, sealed and delivered on the Tuesday following the Super Bowl when Joe Namath and the underdog New York Jets beat the mighty Baltimore Colts in 1969. We carried the certified check back to New Haven and paid off the bank loan with had been used to buy Marshall’s stock. At this point Polychem was debt free, without its biggest and practically only customer, and minus its main product. The company was roughly 25 years, 8 months old and starting in all over again.

Step one was to get customers , which meant Arthur Gormley hit the road with no restrictions other than to offer semi-exclusivity and I got on the phone.

We were fairly well prepared with a replacement product for Haemo-sol. Because of all the meetings through the years that I had attended representing Meinecke, and that my name appeared on most letters answering users’ technical questions, it was decided to call the product Buell Cleaner. Temporary literature and labels were printed and modest journal ads were ready to go. At the last minute, we got space at the February (AORN) Operating Nurses Annual convention. A couple of years before, Ralph Sanford and Bob Perry had gone to the Lownds Company manufacturers of Underpads and now the company was being bought by C.R. Bard Co. They had ordered a double booth at the A.O.R.N. and wanted to change to a single so Polychem ended up with their excess space. Gormley and I drove out to Cincinnati in the station wagon loaded with the display materials. We came away with a great many productive leads.

During the first couple of years, the many ex-Meinecke salesmen were a great help. Beside from Harry Halliday in Boston, Paul Murray started his own company to cover Connecticut and Western Massachusetts. Lowndes started a kit assembly business in Philadelphia. Tom Kidd in Phoenix went from Meinecke to Scherer headquarters in El Segundo, California. Scherer was part of Brunswick Drug CO. and for a while were a big customer in spite of the fact their president Dan Robinson called me the most vile names over the phone and in person because we would not absorb the freight. For a few years they bought a lot of T.L.C. Lotion. Meinecke personnel in the LA office went with a small local dealer and they managed to convert a lot of Haemo-sol to Buell Cleaner. We picked up a good small kit packer in Portland, Oregon. The Denver Meinecke became an independent sales representative. He was able to sell and one year came to Las Vegas to help me man our exhibit. Cliff Hewitt in Dallas went with McClure Surgical Supply and with his help they became a good customer. Incidentally, out of the blue, Cliff Hewitt phoned me the other day (1997) and we had a nice chat. Paul Boyer in Roanoke started his own business and after he died his wife carried on for a few years.

Arthur Gormley signed up more and more dealers. We became regular exhibitors at the ASTA (American Surgical Trade Association) meetings. The ASTA eventually became HIDA (Health Industry Dealers Association). We also exhibited at the New England Hospital, Mid-Atlantic Hospital, American Nurses association, and Operating Nurses Association meetings. Lotion sales kept increasing at a good pace. Buell Cleaner sales increases were slower and required more work. We continued exhibiting at the FASEB, Microbiology, and Medical Technology shows but found it hard to convince people Buell Cleaner was the same as Haemo-sol.

During the Viet Nam period, there were shortages of labor. For one period, Pratt Whitney opened up an employment office in downtown New Haven, open 24 hours a day. Tough competition. Most of those jobs lasted less than a year.

About this time, I hired a worker who was a newly escaped Hungarian refugee. He was dark complexioned. After I gave him his initial tour of the factory, several came to me worried that Polychem was breaking the color barrier. They didn’t need to worry because within a month or two we did hire a black worker. Actually, the first to ever apply. One of the first and one of my favorites was a chap named Jimmy Lamb. When we promoted him to be in charge of the lotion room he thanked me and I said keep up the good work and you’ll be up front in the office. He replied “Sure, I’ll be all the way up front, outside holding a light bulb” (his joke was in reference to the fashion at that time of placing in front yards of private homes a small statue of a black stable boy holding a lantern. Such statues disappeared or were painted white once such an ethnic ‘statement’ became politically incorrect). I might mention that with our help, Lamb got a job selling insurance for New York Life. Unfortunately, it did not work out for him.

Through the years, we has many interesting factory employees. We has several European refugees. There were several college graduates, some of whom went on to good careers. Summer student jobs were offered. If they were studying Chemistry, Biology, etc. we attempted to give them laboratory work. A few came to work full time after graduation.

About this time Paul Murray and his new business asked us if we would go into the kit assembly business. He had several accounts but no source. Thus Polychem became a kit supplier. In spite of our efforts to have it otherwise, each hospital had to have their own personalized kit. We started out with admission kits with three items and others all the way up to twenty items. The biggie was for the Wesson Maternity Hospital, Springfield, Mass. It contained 48 OB pads, sanitary belt, tooth paste, and brush, comb, shower cap, bed pan, wash basin, water pitcher, and plastic glass, soap, lotion and mouth wash all in a personalized huge plastic zipper bag. Kits were still new with little competition so we shortly had business from as far away as Tennessee, West Virginia, and Oregon. We had T.L.C. toothbrushes made by Fuller Brush Co. @ $0.05 each, 7” T.L.C. Combs made by Stanley House Products, T.L.C. Soap Cakes with Hexachlorophene (2%) from Rhode Island Soap maker and a T.L.C. decorated pencil from a Bridgeport manufacturer. Prices of tooth brushes and combs always amazed me. Imported brushes were available for 3 1/2 cents. Five inch combs were $0.075 each and 7 “ combs were 1 1/2 cents each. Purchasing became more difficult and put a strain on our cash flow. In the process we developed many new sources and friends. We bought sanitary napkins and thermometers from Chesebrough Ponds. On thermometers, we had to carry Connecticut seal, Massachusetts seal, and Michigan seal. We got our talcum powder and deodorants from the Mennen Company. Cepecol Mouth Wash from Merril, toothpaste from Colgate, although we also had T.L.C. toothpaste made by the Sheffield Company in New London. Zipper personalized bags came from Frank Mink in New York City. Then a Boston Hospital insisted on flame proof polyethylene bags. We has to stock 1”, 1/2 “, metal clip and plastic clip sanitary belts from Mr. Connor in Bridgeport. We bought Ivory and Safeguard Soap from Proctor and Gamble and Dial Soap. We also bought from Lever Bros. It took a couple of frustrating years before Johnson and Johnson “allowed” us to purchase their baby powder or anything. When they finally gave us the O.K. they sent us a copy of a saying by Calvin Cooledge extolling the virtue of being patient.

Then one night about 5:30 a chap arrived and said he got my name from Harry Halliday. It was David Greenberg who just started a new little company in Stamford called Clinipad Corporation and they were making a Wash and Dry like product. At the time we were buying this type product from Nice-Pak. Greenberg made a good proposal that would allow us to have our own brand. While we didn’t have a market for these except in kits, anything which spread the name T.L.C. was welcome.

Polychem and David Greenberg became friends. When Greenberg was still struggling we allowed him to share our booth space at certain conventions. We had a friend who was non-competitive and was selling to the same customers as we were which allowed us to compare notes and put in a good word for each other. We watched him grow from just a small handful of people in a small facility to the present plant in Guilford and finally to the Charlotte, N.C. Number 2 plant. I believe he had approximately 200 employees and was doing some $30 million a year when I retired in 1989.

The first couple of years after the Meinecke divorce were difficult with increasing annual loses. Changes had to be made. We were forced to let Arthur Gormley go.

Before another year was up C.R. Bard Co. bought the Lowndes Co. and Bob Perry’s job was eliminated. Back in Meinecke days, he was the star salesman for Polychem products. We worked out a deal where Bob Perry was to act as sales manager as well as on the road actively selling and if necessary to oversee operations in New Haven if I had to be away and yet he was not an employee but an independent sales representative, solely on commission. He had to attend all conventions at which we exhibited and was responsible for all regional sales representatives. Perry was still young and hungry with many friends in the industry from coast to coast and he had a good feel for the need of new products. We worked well together and the results soon showed it. Within months of this development Frank Goodwin, former Vice President of Sales for C.R. Bard became available and joined Bob Perry as an equal partner. What people and companies Bob Perry didn’t know, Frank Goodwin did and it included Canadian connections. It was a great combination and they were fun to work with.

With Perry and Goodwin several policy changes took place. There were no more semi-exclusive arrangements. Such never worked and in many cases were damaging to Polychem. The few small dealers who complained the loudest all showed the same pattern. They got our products into their favorite accounts, the remainder, sometimes twice the number, they didn’t try or worse they didn’t even cover them at all. Also, we went after private label accounts with the chains, especially on the instrument cleaner products. We made an effort to be friendly with our competitors which eventually resulted in two of the largest lotion manufacturers asking us to manufacture for them and a third started giving us accounts they did not wish to call on for one reason or another. We also started to get more and more input on new products, many that had potential did fit in with our lives. Also for the first time we started to aggressively go after the nursing home market. With the loss of Meinecke and American Scientific Products Division, the laboratory market for glassware cleaners became a lesser factor for Polychem. More and more, disposables in the lab did not help. The medical Technologists suddenly seemed to be not even prospects.

At this time we decided to get out of the kit business. There were several companies interested including my friends the Feldmans. Harold Feldman I knew since Hillhouse High School days. We were in the largest class to ever graduate, over 1,400. The other celebrity to graduate with us was Ernest Borgnine. We finally sold it to the Feldmans for the price of the inventory. They formed a new company called Anamed and made Bob Gilbert and I non-paid vice-presidents. Bob Gilbert was formerly vice president of the Fuller Brush Company before it moved from East Hartford to Iowa after being bought by Consolidated Foods Co. The Feldmans had the space, the manpower and the resources to greatly expand the business. The did increase sales and were a good Polychem customer. However, Bob Gilbert and I felt they ignored our advice. We felt they should have gone gung-ho and looked into sterile kits, surgical kits, such as suture removal kits, and even kits along the lines which Clinipad Co. was getting into. For politically liberal people they were very conservative business wise. However they still remained good friends.

Once one fine morning we got a phone call from Martin Kaufman, president of Seneca Hospital Supply of Rochester, N.Y. This greatly affected the future of Polychem Corporation. Kaufman told us that the state of New York was going to outlaw the use of soap dishes in hospitals as part of their plan to control cross infection. He asked us to bring out a liquid bath soap or cleaner. We put Bill Markland to work on developing a product. Markland was not only a recent employee of Chesebrough Ponds but before that had been the chemist for Breck Shampoo Co. and had been with Revlon for a sort period. We soon had a product out and called it T.L.C. Hospital Bath. I must say that we did not use the Cheapest ingredients but gave consideration to mildness as well as skin cleansing efficiency. We avoided the $4 and $5 essential oils and used a quality product from Haarman Reimer for the fragrance that I became familiar with a few years before when working on another product with Atlas Chemical Company. The product had a beautiful magenta color using Red 19. When FDA outlawed Red 19 we were never able to duplicator this color.

Most of the testing for T.L.C. Hospital Bath was done at the Montowese Nursing Home in North Haven. These staff there said they could not see the product on the wash cloth – which is why we added color.

The new product, T.L.C. Hospital Bath, took off with a bang and eventually passed the Lotion in Dollar sales.

A year or two later Paul Murray said he had a customer who had several Century Circulating Bath Tubs and asked if we could duplicate their Cleansing Bath Oil. So we could understand more of what was expected if such a product we were invited down to this huge nursing home facility to witness a demonstration. Markland, Murray and I were brought in the bath rooms and shown the tub. Pretty soon a ninety year old female was brought in and given a bath for our benefit. We were all shocked though I suspect the poor thing didn’t know we were there. At any rate, that is how we got T.L.C. Cleansing Bath Oil.

To fill out the line for hopefully, Century Tubs we decided to also have a Tub Cleaner/Sanitizer. For some reason, perhaps due to our inexperience, it took forever to have one approved and once the quat (quatern-ammonium) was on the market, just as difficult to sell.

A chap named Ken Osier ran the Century Tub franchise out of Rochester, N.Y. covering New York and New England wanted to take on our line because it was more favorably priced. The Century people said no. We tried to interest Century into letting us be their eastern source for private label products. However, when the time came when they decided to switch from their current source of products, they made a vigorous effort to buy Polychem Corporation. At the time I had no interest in selling. We were getting more and more involved in the Nursing home business. We were exhibiting at the national conventions for both profit and non-profit nursing home associations. We systematically picked out state meeting to exhibit at. We would go to each for two or three years then switch to other states. We went to the New Jersey meeting every year, to Maine-Vermont-New Hampshire even though one year at Dixville Notch our booth was in a tent which leaked during the two days of rain. This three state affair finally disbanded when they started fighting with each other. Minnesota was another regular with us for two reasons. Number one, it was the largest attendance wise of all nursing home meetings including the national ones. Number two was that our dream was to have the Redline Co., the country’s largest nursing home supplier and equipment distributor, carry our products.

Redline finally agreed to a November 9:00 am meeting with us. Bob Perry and I went out at Grossingers. I was on the exhibitors committee and we had no problems getting exhibitors. It died because they were unable to get the attendance up. Grossingers also closed down and I believe became Condominiums. In all my 44 years at Polychem, dining all over the country, in every state of the union, I believe Grossingers had the worst food.

The first nursing home distributor of suppliers that did business with Polychem was Maple Hill Co. of New Britain Conn. The principals were Harold Johndrow, Ray Spurges, and a third whose name is forgotten. For the first year or two our sales to them wee quite modest. Then Spurges and Johndrow sold out. Ray Spurges at first went to work for Paul Murray Associates. After a year or two Spurges left Paul Murray and started his own company. He wanted to carry the Polychem line and Paul Murray vehemently objected to us giving it to him. I was responsible for the two getting together. In spite of Murray’s objections we gave Spurges the line. I don’t believe the two ever competed for the same customer and eventually Spurges way out-sold Murray. Interestingly, Spurges always had a side line business – selling candles to Catholic Churches.

Harold Johndrow of course started Hudson and became one of our best customers. He eventually started a Florida branch and ran the Hudson Trucks back and forth. The had a product fair every year which was well run and well attended. Polychem always participated.

During this period we had a shocker. Polychem was sued. During a several month period Polychem kept getting letters inquiring about the cleaning of spinal syringes and needles. I was naive and didn’t suspect anything. I also made the mistake of quoting test results that were done with the old product Haemo-sol (same formula) but did not mention that fact.

After I had unconsciously dug a hole for Polychem and myself a big product liability law suit arrives. In a 100 bed hospital, located near Los Angeles a 35 year old woman went in for a hemorroidectomy. She came out of the operating room paralyzed from the waist down. The claim was that BUELL CLEANER was used to clean the syringe and needle and that the product did not rinse off to the degree we claimed. By this time, the 1970’s hospitals had changed from reusable to disposable syringe and needles but not this little California hospital. Also California was noted as the worst state to be sued in. They did not sue for any special amount, that was left for the jury to decide. This lady was also suing the anesthesiologist, the hospital, the anesthesia company, and one other company, the name of which I do not recall. Then there was a second suit brought against us from the same hospital by an older man who was a neurosyphilitic. This suit was riding on the coattails of the first, but as it turned out later, his law firm was not as smart as the young lady’s.

The first thing I did was to notify Aetna Insurance Co.. who carried our product liability coverage. Then I went to our attorney for advice. The first thing he said to make me feel good was that the court might award punitive damages for which, of course, there is no insurance. This attorney was five or six years older than I and in later years had many negative opinions. His advice was, as on a couple of other occasions, to sell the company. Soon, the affable Irish lawyer from Los Angeles that Aetna appointed came east to see Polychem and interview me. For the most part from my point of view, he was always optimistic. Aetna started a consulting arrangement with the Stanford University Medical School Anesthesiology department. I had a couple of talks with the Yale-New Haven Hospital head of anesthesiology. They all said it could not be our fault. The only person who correctly predicted the outcome was Luba Dowling, the operating room supervisor at Yale New Haven Hospital. She said Polychem the “wealthy” east coast manufacturer will be made to pay. The case dragged on for a couple of years. Aetna’s Los Angeles lawyer visited Polychem once or twice. I visited the Aetna Los Angeles office once.

While all of this was going on we carefully reviewed all labels and literature. At the strong suggestion of Aetna, we retained the services of Attorney Bill Murphy of the law firm Tyler Cooper, to check claims and contents of all literature. I believe it was at this time that we decided to list all ingredients on literature and labels. This was already done on the products classified as cosmetics, as was the law. Soaps and detergents were never under the F.D.A. and disclosure of ingredients was not required. We always speculated that the surgical instrument care products would one day be considered medical devices and as such regulated. I wonder if that has become true. We always found Bill Murphy most helpful and worth the fee. He also defended Yale New Haven Hospital in many mal-practice cases.

The time finally arrived when the opposing lawyers were to take my deposition. The L.A. Aetna Insurance lawyer arranged for me to fly out on a Thursday. They put me up in a Sheraton Hotel near Universal City. The lawyer came over that evening to give me the plans. Friday morning he picked me up at 8:00 am and took me to his office. We went into a private conference room. The first thing he did was call by the intercom to tell his secretary to bring in some pads and pencils. When she came in he took one look at the pencils and promptly gave her with his hand a good whack on her behind and told her to get long, new pencils. She trotted right out and promptly returned with said pencils and without ever changing her expression. It was a grueling day. He rehearsed me all morning, then a short break for lunch and continued the rehearsing all afternoon, until five o’clock. He drove me back to the hotel and bought me a drink and continued the rehearsal in the cocktail lounge. Saturday morning he picked me up again at 8:00 am, drove to the doughnut shop, bought a box of a dozen and off to his office in time for the deposition to start at 9:00am. About ten other attorneys and a legal or court stenographer arrived. The deposition went on for almost four hours straight until our lawyer cut it short so I could make my plane. He drove me over to Hollywood where I got a cab to the airport. It was a horrible experience and I’m not sure I did all that well. My trip back was on a United Airline wine trip flight, all the wine you could drink. By the time I landed at La Guardia, I was in great shape.

After all of that the case was settled out of court a couple of months later. Travelers who insured the hospital and our insurer Aetna, both gave the lady $200,000 and they gave the neurosyphlitic $25,000. I thought they should have gone to court, but they thought settlement to be the less expensive way out. The after math of course was that our product liability premium went from $900 per year to $45,000 per year. And in another year or two Aetna refused to insure us. In our struggle to get insurance, Governor Grasso was no help at all. The only one who made any effort was the now Senator Joe Liberman, who was then in Hartford in the State government. After 30 years with Aetna, I thought it wrong they were allowed to drop us like that. After this, Polychem survived and thrived and always carried product liability insurance, though at times with difficulty and ever increasing premiums.

Not all was bad though. One year at the AORN, (Association of Operating Room Nurses) a man named Ray Gross put us in contact with the Codman Shurteff Surgical Instrument Co., a division of Johnson and Johnson. Ray Gross in the early years was with A. Saloc of St. Louis before it was sold to the Brunswick Baulk Co., makers of Bowling Alleys and Billiard tables and eventually I believe the basis of the Sherwood Company. Gross now had his own business and through the years had always been interested in getting several small companies including Polychem to combine in some manner. In that endeavor, he was never successful. Codman had just put on the market a surgical instrument lubricant made buy their Canadian division. They now wanted a liquid pH 7 Instrument cleaner. By now Polychem already had BUELL CLEANER-LQ in its line so the development of a product was not all that difficult. The difficult part was to sell Codman. In this endeavor Bob Perry and Bill Markland our chemist/consultant worked hard. The job was made a little easier by the fact that Bill Clarke, Number Two at Codman seemed to like Polychem. He was intrigued by our baseball glove leather dressing that went by the name of MITT SPIT.

We got the product ready and sent samples for their laboratory to test at their headquarters in Randolph, Mass. In turn they sent samples of stainless surgical steel in the bar form for our laboratory to test for corrosion. They also sent samples of their lubricant for us to test against our BUELL LUBRICANT. I believe they would have switched to our lubricant except that their was being supplied by another division of J&J. All testing turned out OK. They then sent in inspectors to see if we adhered to good manufacturing practice. Then they sent in their warehousing and packaging experts. They gave us a bunch of tough packaging specifications and palletizing instructions, all of which cost money.

Once all of this was over, then came the tough part about agreeing on a contract which had to be approved by the legal department at Corporate headquarters in New Burnswick, N.J. It was our lawyers against their lawyers. Ours had a handicap. Our instructions to them were “We want this business and don’t you dare lose it.”

Finally we were ready to go. The Cleaner was named PrePair, which went along with Codmans Lubricant name, Preserve. Business started off brisk. Codman had a good many accounts which seemingly would do whatever the salesmen asked then to. Direct salesmen got results compared to distributor sales people who we had no control over. Then they put on a detail nurse to travel with their sales people. She was a dynamite young lady named Jane Tondorf who combined looks, salesmanship, personality and knowledge of instruments, the OR and central sterile service for a combination that couldn’t help but get results. We all enjoyed working with Codman. We were asked to their parties at the conventions. The parties were large and fun. They would do things like importing the twin pianists from Pat O’Brians in New Orleans. The business was profitable. Their Bill Clarke was transferred and put in charge of Texas based Surgicos branch. In a few months, we got a telephone call saying Codman wished to discontinue the Prepair line ( but not Preserve). They offered us a cash settlement plus the trademark and customer list. We accepted. For a couple of years it was a profitable piece of business for us. We kept the same price structure so we now made Codman’s and Polychem’s profit. It was not sufficient to warrant any direct sales force. As a result, sales started to tapir off after a couple of years.

There were other private label cleaner inquiries. Most did not work out. The orthopedic company Zimmer, division of Bristol Myers, flew their private plane to New Haven with a group of men to discuss a cleaner. The apparent leader was a young black chemist. A couple of weeks later, I called him to find out if anything was happening. The answer I got was that he was no longer with the company.

One time we received a call from one of the Mills brothers at Medline of Mundelain Illinois. Bob Perry and I left a day or two early for a California trip, so we could call on them. We arrived for our morning appointment with one of the executive brothers. The first problem was he had not told anyone else we were to be there. Via intercom he asked the product manager for products such as the T.L.C. line to come to his office. Obviously, the young lady was not prepared. He yelled at her with more four letter words than I know, even Bob Perry didn’t know all of them. If I had talked to any of the Polychem young ladies that way I’d probably still be in jail.

A fellow named Bill Knight was selling a line of German made instrument washers that was using German made chemicals. He always had us believe that we could get that business. We made considerable efforts in formulating and in sampling even trips to Annapolis and their U.S. headquarters in Miami. Eventually to no avail.

In the 1940’s when I started the big national hospital supply houses were Meinecke, American Hospital Supply, A.S. Aloe of St. Louis and Will Ross in Wisconsin. Will Ross was a fine company and I believed covered the entire country. They were bought out by G.D. Searle which I believe was run by Donald Rumsfeld. At any rate, someone in the company decided to move Will Ross from Milwaukee to Dallas, Texas. They of course lost most of their good employees, the heart of the company. Once settled in Dallas, they asked Polychem to come down for a meeting.

Bob Perry and I flew down, and upon walking into the lobby of their fancy new building, I was greeted by a big bulletin board saying “Welcome. Bill Buell, President of Polychem Corporation.” They announced they wished to have us make their private label cleaners and lubricants. They wanted the entire line from No. 222 to No. 999, With that, they handed us all the papers and rough art work for labels, literature and even the printed cartons. Not realizing what shape the company possibly was in, we went ahead and prepared everything as Will Ross asked. About the time we were ready to go, Searle notified us they were discontinuing the Will Ross division. We billed Searle for all of our expenses, approximately $8000.00 . They refused to pay that. Finally, they agreed to pay half saying that we each were gambling on the business. Searle eventually came out with NutraSweet and were bought out by Monsanto.

During the 1980’s we experienced increased sales, greater efficiency, upgraded processing equipment, computerization, fax machine, an 800 number, more efficient laboratory, new products, effective quality control and increased profitability. After many years, my son Bill III came back to Polychem from Boston, where he learned to be a computer programmer and worked as one, the last 31/2 years at the Stone & Webster Company. He had worked at Polychem for a couple of years after he graduated from college in 1971. Some of my critics at that time said I erred in not assigning him a specific job. Now I was delighted that he had chosen to return and for the next five years I thought we had a good father-son relationship. Bill did many good things for Polychem. He computerized the company. He was responsible for making John Sargent foreman. He hired Greg Byer. He hired Steve Rubin. With the help of lawyers and a consultant, he got together a much needed employee handbook. He helped out by handling some of the sales meetings. He made it possible for Eleanor and I to take short vacations. I went one period of 25-30 years with almost no vacation at all. Bill was made general manager.

About this time, Bill Markland decided to leave us, as also did his laboratory assistant, and the six month trial term, the basis on which we hired a young Ph.D. chemist did not work out. We were lucky to be able to secure the service of Frank Tranner, on a part time basis. Frank had recently retired from Chesebrough Ponds and unlike any of his predecessors, was an experienced lotion chemist. Steve was totally inexperienced and needed training. Frank Tranner also turned out to be a good teacher.

Tranner’s first task was to “fix” the T.L.C. Lotion formulation which had been giving problems through the years. This he did with the help of a $50,000 processing kettle and a new boiler system. He developed the T.L.C. Dermal Treatment Lotion, a product I had wanted for some time. He and Steve managed to stabilize the formula for BUELL Lubricant and still retain its desirable features. They then developed T.L.C. No Rinse Perineal Cleansing Milk and also T.L.C. Balanced Skin Cleanser and Shampoo Concentrate. A lot was accomplished in a relatively short time.

At the urging of Bob Perry, we decided to bring out an aerosol foamed alcohol product in competition with Vestal’s product. Al Schloser, Vestal Vice president, used to be with Seamless Rubber when it was in New Haven and at that time was a friend. When he went to Vestal, he took along a lesson or two he learned from Polychem so copying their alcohol foam was only fair play. After all the years listening to Dr. Ted Anderson saying 70% alcohol was the most bactericidal strength, we aimed for a 70% product. Vestal and others were in the 60% range. To develop or make such a product was beyond our capabilities, so I called up Herman Shepard (Shep) founder and former owner of Aerosol Technique Co. in Milford. He finally got hold of him on the beach in Miami via phone. Shepard had made several unsolicited attempts to buy Polychem. The final offer was that I would get stock (no money) and he would move Armstrong Laboratories, which he owned, from Massachusetts to a new building he would put up on property next to Polychem, and I would be in charge of the whole complex. I had no interest in that. At any rate, he put me in touch with his son who was running the aerosol plant in New Jersey. After a couple of months it was obvious they could not develop the product. We then met Ed Stoltz who used to be with Shepard and Aerosol Technique Co. I had met him years before when he was the chemist for the LesToil Co. in Holyoke, Mass. At that time he was exploring to see if I was interested in selling. Ed as a chemist and aerosol expert, did not take long to bring us a satisfactory product for T.L.C. Alcohol Foam Scrub. We also hired the services of a regulatory affairs gentleman in Westport to make sure we did everything probably according to F.D.A. rules.

I must mention our advertising agency Addie Hirschorn. He handled label designs and most of the literature in latter years as well as what advertising there was. He was always prompt, reasonable and didn’t try to sell us the moon. He did the alcohol foam label and literature.

This was a good product for us. We were able to sell this for less than the competition and yet at a greater margin than we had for any product. One disadvantage was that we never got into the larger size which came with a bracket for the cart.

After the Seamless Rubber Company bought the Lawton Instrument Co. we private labeled our entire instrument care line for them. That went well until Seamless downsized after being bought by a company that owned Tupperware. They moved out of New Haven to a small new building in Wallingford and in the process divested themselves of Lawton Instrument Co. A couple of old Seamless men took over Lawton with the help of an Alabama State loan and had to move warehouse and manufacturing to Huntsville, Alabama. They kept their office in Madison, Conn. Unfortunately for us they went out of business in a couple of years.

When the property next door to Polychem became available, I bought it including the house on the corner with the idea of putting on an addition of about 6000 square feet. The original building in 1955 cost us about $7.00 per square foot. The addition put on in 1963-64 cost approximately $8.00 per sq.ft and I thought in the 80’s we could have a new warehouse, more office space and upgraded laboratory and lavatories for about $50.00 per sq.ft. I was wrong. It would have cost about three times that, over $1,000,000 for 7000 sq. ft. The decision was made to postpone this project.

Even after reaching my 70th birthday, I never had any thought other than going on forever at Polychem. Then suddenly in December 1987, I found out I had bladder cancer and was operated on in St. Raphaels Hospital December 17. A few days after the operation, my 20 year old roommate went berserk about 1:00a.m., punched the nurse on the jaw and announced he was going to kill me. I survived and went home shortly after dawn. In 1988, the following August, they found two new tumors. After they were taken care of, I decided I was not immortal and now should do something about Polychem. Though I thought Bill Buell III was capable of taking over, he decided for many reasons that he did not wish to take on the job. It was then that we decided to sell the company. I went to several seminars and consulted with a few friends experienced in such matters as to how to proceed.

Through the years, especially in latter years, we had many inquiries, some serious and also some real offers from parties interested in buying us. They included Block Durg, several local New Haven companies, IPCO Hospital supply, Century Bath Tub Company, three different individuals from Chesebrough Ponds Co. (none who were officers), Marion Laboratories of Kansas City, a division of Johnson and Johnson and others I’d promised not to mention. The advice of some was to try Japanese buyers. They and those from other countries were anxious to buy when land came with the deal and, of course, all wanted to buy businesses that would be a means of securing their “Green Cards”. We entered into very serious negotiations with a couple from the New York City finance world. If their lawyers were not so slow, they may well have been successful in acquiring Polychem.

We did not advertise or offer through brokers. A few years before, a friend of mine advertised his company for sale in the Wall Street Journal and he received over 100 replies.

In the Spring of 1989, Polychem was asked to exhibit their products and be part of the RedLine Company’s annual sales meeting in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Red Line was the country’s largest nursing home supply dealer. One day there a Red Line salesman named David Wilich stopped at our exhibit and noted we were from Connecticut. He said his brother was up there and was interested in buying a company. I answered that if he or anyone else were interested in us they better hurry. A couple of days after I returned to New Haven in walked Frank Wilich and Hans VanderKloot. The rest is history.

As best as I can recall, you now have my 44 years with Polychem Corporation, from the year 1945 to the fall of 1989, a period in which we saw nine presidents in Washington, five Popes in Rome, and a king as well as a queen in England. In 1945, civilian travel by air was rare, automobiles had stick shifts, computers had not gotten off the ground and there was no television. Shoes, radios, suits of clothes, nylons were almost impossible to buy as was installation of telephone service. Chemicals, bottles and even paper for advertising circulars was difficult. Polychem was lucky to get a pencil sharpener, ball point pens were in the future. New York City and New Haven still had trolley cars.

Writing this in 1997 has been difficult. I have had trouble remembering individuals names, often times taking a day or two before the name came to me. Eleanor has been little help after two heart attacks, one cardiac arrest, one stroke and Alzheimer’s. Thank god for Medicare! If I have left anyone out, misspelled names, not given credit where credit was due or made other mistakes, I apologize. I fondly remember most of the employees, believe they were important contributors to the success of Polychem and I thank each and every one of them. If any ever get to Clearwater, I hope they will call em or better yet, drop in.

Addenda:

Polychem Firsts:

First to make and market surgical instrument cleaner made with synthetic surfactants, a non-soap product.

Developed and sold Instrument cleaner that was used on first heart catheters by Nobel prize winner Dr. Andre Cournand.

Polychem Cleaners was the first to be used on Tissue Culture glassware.

First Company to market their hospital lotion in a plastic bottle.

First company to market a liquid body wash.

First Company to market to hospitals a non-alcoholic mouth rinse.

First company to list all ingredients on labels of all products whether under FDA or not.

Friedrich August Hayek quotes

September 12, 2009 by William Buell

From:

http://thinkexist.com/quotes/friedrich_august_hayek/

“Perhaps the fact that we have seen millions voting themselves into complete dependence on a tyrant has made our generation understand that to choose one’s government is not necessarily to secure freedom”

“If most people are not willing to see the difficulty, this is mainly because, consciously or unconsciously, they assume that it will be they who will settle these questions for the others, and because they are convinced of their own capacity to do this.”

“Freedom granted only when it is known beforehand that its effects will be beneficial is not freedom”

“If we wish to preserve a free society, it is essential that we recognize that the desirability of a particular object is not sufficient justification for the use of coercion”

“We shall not grow wiser before we learn that much that we have done was very foolish”

“From the fact that people are very different it follows that, if we treat them equally, the result must be inequality in their actual position, and that the only way to place them in an equal position would be to treat them differently. Equality before the law and material equality are therefore not only different but are in conflict with each other; and we can achieve either one or the other, but not both at the same time.”

“There is all the difference in the world between treating people equally and attempting to make them equal.”

“We must show that liberty is not merely one particular value but that it is the source and condition of most moral values. What a free society offers to the individual is much more than what he would be able to do if only he were free. We can therefore not fully appreciate the value of freedom until we know how a society of free men as a whole differs from one in which unfreedom prevails.”

“Even the striving for equality by means of a directed economy can result only in an officially enforced inequality – an authoritarian determination of the status of each individual in the new hierarchical order”

The road to serfdom: text and documents
By Friedrich August Hayek, Bruce Caldwell

“The choice open to us is not between a system in which everybody will get what he deserves according to some absolute and universal standard of right, and one where the individual shares are determined partly by accident or good will or chance, but but between a system where it is the will of a few persons that decides who is to get what, and one where it depends at least partly on the ability and enterprise of the people concerned and partly on unforeseeable circumstances.”

“The more the state ‘plans’ the more difficult planning becomes for the individual.”

“There is, in a competitive society, nobody who can exercise even a fraction of the power which a socialist planning board would possess”

“Only where we ourselves are responsible for our own interests and are free to sacrifice them has our decision moral value. We are neither entitled to be unselfish at someone else’s expense nor is there any merit in being unselfish if we have no choice. The members of a society who in all respects are made to do the good thing have no title to praise.”

“Intellects whose desires have outstripped their understanding”

“We must face the fact that the preservation of individual freedom is incompatible with a full satisfaction of our views of distributive justice”

“It is rarely remembered now that socialism in its beginnings was frankly authoritarian. It began quite openly as a reaction against the liberalism of the French Revolution. The French writers who laid its foundation had no doubt that their ideas could be put into practice only by a strong dictatorial government. The first of modern planners, Saint-Simon, predicted that those who did not obey his proposed planning boards would be “treated as cattle.”

“Who can seriously doubt that the power which a millionaire, who may be my employer, has over me is very much less than that which the smallest bureaucrat possesses who wields the coercive power of the state and on whose discretion it depends how I am allowed to live and work?”

“It is neither necessary nor desirable that national boundaries should mark sharp differences in standards of living, that membership of a national group should entitle to share in a cake altogether different from that in which members of other groups share.”

“To act on the belief that we possess the knowledge and the power which enable us to shape the processes of society entirely to our liking, knowledge which in fact we do not possess, is likely to make us do much harm.”

Erik, my Facebook friend, comments:

First, as someone who has been reading Hayek off and on for decades and who has read — or at least read thru — all of his major works, I would suggested starting with his last work. Hayek wrote The Fatal Conceit when he was over 90 years old. Ordinarily, that would be a reason enough not to recommend a book. But, in the case of The Fatal Conceit, Hayek had been thinking about the issues discussed in the book all of his life and he had an unusual intellect, so he somehow-someway managed to write his most mature philosophical treatise at a time in life when most people are blowing bubbles in their jello.

Second, as I mentioned to William before, Hayek was not a conservative. Far from it. He advocated many radical reforms. However, he is read by almost all conservative intellectuals. In fact, the Wall Street Journal nominated Hayek to be Man of the Century in 2000. He’s more popular than Edmund Burke. If you want to understand conservatives, read Hayek”

Authorship and Social Responsibility

September 13, 2009 by William Buell

While I was in Holy Trinity Monastery in Jordanville, New York, I came to know an old Russian professor, retired, a layperson, who lived at the seminary school which trained future priests.

The professor was a worldly man and an intellectual, but very devout and pious, his thinking very much influenced by Russian Orthodox beliefs. One day, during Lent, the period before Easter, he was looking at an iconographic painting of the final Day of Judgment, depicting the wicked souls being cast into the torment of hell and the righteous souls being admitted to a heavenly paradise. He remarked that the day of Judgment must certainly be most severe for authors, because although the ordinary person must answer only for personal actions and sins and transgressions, an author must take responsibility for the conduct of thousands or millions of people who are influenced by the authors writings, either for good or for evil.

Each of us is author of our own actions (or inaction) and our lives and careers are our books, whether famous, or infamous for the very few, or simply anonymous for the vast majority. Each of us must answer for our actions in some fashion or other. We pay a price for foolishness or sloth, and we are rewarded and compensated for wisdom and industry. But an author or artist is a different sort of beast from the ordinary individual or average citizen.

We must ask ourselves two questions. First, what do we mean by social responsibility? Secondly, what is the nature and motivation of an author or artist?

In every society, government, culture, and ideology, there is a stress and emphasis upon the responsibilities of an individual to society as a whole. From the time we are small children, we are painfully aware that certain things, in fact, many things are expected of us, and that there are consequences and a price to be paid should we fall short of those expectations. The notion of an individuals social responsibility has existed in one form or another since very ancient times, in the earliest of governments and polities, and even in the small tribes of hunters and food gatherers at the dawn of history. It is only in the past several centuries that there has arisen a notion that societies have responsibilities to individual members. We call this new found notion of society’s responsibility Human Rights or Civil Rights.

Every school child in America is required to read Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, (a.k.a. Samuel Clemens). Twain’s novel is required reading because it is a brilliant, entertaining and, now, historic portrayal of a time of slavery and oppression in America. We now know that smoking and the use of tobacco is very damaging to the health. In Samuel Clemens day there was no notion that tobacco might be harmful. Yet, every other page of Huckleberry Finn is praising the virtues and pleasures of smoking tobacco. Many young people have been tempted to experiment with tobacco simply because it was so romanticized by Mark Twain’s novels. We may see this negative influence of Huckleberry Finn as an example of social irresponsibility, of corrupting the youth. We certainly cannot lay the blame for this corrupting influence at the feet of Mark Twain. We must, if anything, blame generations of educators who have chosen to place the book among the required readings of the curriculum of very young and impressionable students without giving thought to the damaging social consequences.

If we extend our notion of authorship and social responsibility to artists, then possibly, we may see the painting Guernica, by Pablo Picasso, as a positive exercise of social responsibility, dramatizing for society the evils of violence and war. Yet, if we study the life and works of Pablo Picasso, it becomes quite obvious that concern for social responsibility was not in the forefront of Picasso’s mind as a goal or concern or inspiration.

In the 1960s, Francoise Gilot, one of Picasso’s several ex-wives wrote Life with Picasso, and painted a picture of a very selfish, egocentric and unpredictable personality. That woman divorced Picasso and married the famous humanitarian Jonas Salk, who pioneered the development of the first polio vaccine. We may certainly see someone like Jonas Salk as a scientist committed to social responsibility in his attempt to alleviate the suffering of many. Though, perhaps it is far more accurate to observe that each author, whether of books or paintings or theories in physics and math, is driven more by a quest for the power of recognition than by some altruistic notion of social responsibility. Authors and creators are most driven by an eudaimonic inspiration or compulsion which drives them mercilessly and relentlessly towards the act of creation, and often, in that process, alienates the author from society as an eccentric rebel outcast.

What of the authorship of someone such as Albert Einstein, the author of the theory of Relativity which made possible the terrible destructive force of the atomic bomb? The ancient Greeks spoke in their myths of Pandora’s Box. The name Pandora means every gift or all gifts. When Pandora’s Box was opened, many terrifying things escaped which could never be put back again. In the myth, the last thing to escape was Hope. Many physicists felt dread and guilt over the monster of destruction which they had created and unleashed.

Those who are religious and believe the Bible to be the divinely revealed word of God feel that each and every sentence is totally good and instructive. Yet, at the end of the New Testament, in the Second Epistle of Peter, Chapter 3, verse 16 we find this curious warning:

[In the Bible] are some things difficult to understand , which they that are unlearned and unstable twist and distort, unto their own destruction.

So here, we see the Bible itself warning us that there are verses within it which are harmful to certain people. In the Old Testament of the Bible, in the Book of Jeremiah, the prophet speaks scathingly of the lying pens of the scribes. And yet it is those very scribes who copy and perpetuate the religious scriptures. Indeed, Karl Marx saw religious scriptures as an opiate of the people and therefore as something negative from the point of view of social responsibility. Conversely, the religious communities of the world see communist regimes in a negative light, believing them to oppress and censor freedom of religious expression and worship.

If one looks at popular authors and artists like Picasso, Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Proust, Rimbaud, Baudelaire, Thomas Dylan, and many others, one sees that they are rebels, renegades, misfits, alcoholics, recluses. We see that the worlds of imagination which they create in their writings and art are forms of escape from reality and everyday responsibilities of a good citizen.

Now, if we search for socially responsible authors, then one might choose Harriet Beecher Stowe, who wrote Uncle Toms Cabin. When Abraham Lincoln met Harriet Beecher Stowe, he exclaimed, And here is the little lady who started the Civil War. Certainly, Lincoln was exaggerating to some extent in his good-natured humor, but it is certainly also true that the nation as a whole became more self-conscious about the evils of slavery after reading Uncle Toms Cabin with the cruelty of Simon LeGree, whose name became the byword of wickedness.

Another prime example of social responsibility in American literature is The Jungle by Upton Sinclair, which exposed the evils of company towns who exploited immigrant workers in the meat-packing industry. President Theodore Roosevelt was
sickened by the brutality and injustice which Sinclair’s novel dramatized so vividly. Roosevelt immediately called upon Congress to pass a law establishing the Food and Drug Administration and, for the first time, setting up federal inspection standards for meat. The Pure Food and Drug Act and the Meat Inspection Act, were both signed into law on June 30th, 1906, as a direct result of Upton Sinclair’s book The Jungle. President Roosevelt commended Sinclair for exposing the corruption and injustice, but scolded him for being such a socialist. Certainly, Sinclair seems to be one author deeply motivated by notions of social responsibility.

We even see, in the 20th century, authors like George Orwell and Aldous Huxley, examining the state and society as some abortion gone bad, creating a nightmare world for its inhabitants. The passion of the authors creative obsession is closely analogous to the reckless abandon of sexual passion. In Orwell’s novel, 1984, it is a love scene of wild abandon in a secluded woods which symbolizes the rebelliousness and isolation of the individuals will to power. It is the State of Big Brother which crushes the sexual feelings of the protagonist during his imprisonment.

We easily come to see society and the state, not in their day to day reality, but in the fictional picture which is painted for us by novelists and philosophers and historians. We romanticize our notion of the state until we become like America, carrying its holy grail of democracy and freedom to the four corners of the globe through diplomacy or force, to the willing and unwilling alike. As social activists, driven by our ideologies we become Christs running about everywhere seeking out the largest cross, and then gathering about us a reluctant crowd of Herods.

In Genesis it is said of Abraham that he believed the promise of the divine vision, and that his very belief was counted to him as a form of righteousness or correct action, which also goes by the name of social responsibility. But by the time we come to the end of the Book of Job, God is saying to Job, Tell your friends that I am angry with them because they BELIEVED about me incorrectly. We see how ideology and theory and belief gradually supplant the individual and his daily actions and conduct in life. Finally, by the time we arrive at Jesus and his Apostles and Paul, we are told that we are utterly worthless and hopeless no matter what we do, but that there is a way to be forgiven, if only we will embrace a certain belief. Communism and Capitalism are both jealous gods preaching their ideology to the world and offering forgiveness and shelter in return. A certain physicist once pointed out that, in a gaseous collection of molecules, each individual molecule enjoys the utmost random chaotic freedom of chance. No one may say what a given individual molecule will do at any given moment. And yet, the mass of molecules as a whole is under strict obedience to various laws of temperature and pressure and gravity. The fiery rebel freedom of any single renegade molecule represents the force of hundreds or thousands of molecules robbed of their vigor and spontaneity and exiled to an icy state of passivity and inaction.

Plato explored many notions of social responsibility his dialogues, most notably The Republic. Plato proposes to examine the State as a kind of microscope to view the soul written in large letters. Plato envisioned philosopher kings in a society which saw the noble character of its citizens as its product and enterprise. Remember that Socrates was put to death for allegedly corrupting the youth through his teachings, whether oral or written we know not.

That great German philosopher, Emmanuel Kant, said that we must always act in such a way that we treat individuals as ends in themselves rather than as means to some end.

Psychiatrist John Powell wrote: “To live fully, we must learn to use things and love people, not love things and use people.”

http://www.meaningoflife.i12.com/psychology.htm

Gradually, over the millennia, our notion of social responsibility has evolved and shifted from the prehistoric hunters and warriors duty to his tribe, and has done a hundred and eighty degree about face. Now the great emphasis is upon society’s duty to the individual in the form of human rights or civil rights.

In light of the above considerations, I must personally conclude that the notion of social responsibility of the author is something alien and unknown to the author, imposed posthumously by a reading public. Responsibility, if it lies anywhere at all, lies in the appetites and demands of the consumer public, who clamor for an endless stream of murders, rapes, cataclysms, wars, monsters and even alien invasions from outer space. Our true responsibility is to our own inner space first. If we personally set that inner space of the heart in order, then the orderliness of society will perhaps follow more naturally. The real truth is that both religion and politics are the opiates of the soul, lulling it into complacency, apathy and indifference.

Free Speech But Watch What You Say

September 21, 2009 by William Buell

We have freedom of speech, but we are wise to “watch what we say.” I find that ironic.

What “I AM” in the eyes of the world has as much to do with what I censor and suppress as it does with positive qualities and traits which I freely, spontaneously exhibit.

If what I say is true of myself, then how magnified is that truth with regard to figures in the public eye such as politicians, religious leaders, scholars, etc.? How much of reality is shadows on the walls of Plato’s cave?

As Paul Davies wrote in “God And The New Physics”:(paraphrased, emphasis mine) “IF we are “saved” but only that which is good in us is preserved, then in what sense are ‘WE’ saved in the sense of our total persona?”

Life is it’s own answer!

October 11, 2009 by William Buell

Secret! There is no secret. Anyone with eyes can see the way to live, by watching life, observing nature and cooperating with it. Making common cause with the process of existence. By living life for itself. Don’t you see? Deriving pleasure from the gift of pure being. Life is it’s own answer. Accept it and enjoy it day by day. Live as well as possible. Expect no more.

Destroy nothing.
Humble nothing.
Look for fault in nothing.
Leave unsullied and untouched all that is beautiful.
Hold that which lives in all reverence.

For life is given by the Sovereign of our universe, given to be savored, to be luxuriated in, to be respected.

But that is no secret.
You’re intelligent.
You know as well as I what has to be done.

- Ray Bradbury, Martian Chronicles

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpecbDRyHLQ&feature=player_embedded

Civility and Politics

December 29, 2009 by William Buell

I have noticed that a surprising number of people who are very conservative right-wing Republican are prone to be verbally abusive at the drop of a hat, and also to speak disrespectfully to others (e.g. to me they will say Billy-boy or Willie and someone named James might be called Jimbo or Jimmuh), whereas many Democrats who lean to the left tend to be civil even when they strongly disagree with others. Plus, said Republicans will spend 4 or 8 years complaining daily about B.O. (they seem fond of these initials for some reason), and if they DO get a Republican back in the White House I would not be at all surprised if their candidate is low calibre (i.e. another Bush or a Palin). The classiest and most intellectual conservative I can think of was Wm. F. Buckley, Jr., and even he would at times resort to profanity and threats of fisticuffs on his Firing Line (the very name of his show is somewhat assaultive). I doubt if you can find a clip of Noam Chomsky speaking or acting in an uncivil fashion (but perhaps I am mistaken.)

Teamwork

December 29, 2009 by William Buell

We need you on our team. You need us on your team. Lets face it, the world NEEDS a team, some kind of team, any kind of team. So far, all we seem to manage is teeming (as in teeming hordes). Our problem is a geographical one; we need to eliminate boundaries. Our problem is an ethnic one; we need intermarriage. Our problem is an ideological one; we need pluralistic interfaith.

Indonesian Questions Obama’s Carrot & Stick tactics

December 26, 2009 by William Buell

I have met a very interesting young man in Indonesia through my on line presence in Ubuntu IRC chat at the irc.ubuntu.com server (using the irc client Konversation.

He has asked me to comment, as an American, regarding how I perceive Obama’s foreign policy. I am starting this thread here, so I may email to him the link. I shall be adding to this thread my thoughts over the next day or so. I clearly have in mind certain opinions, but the mind thinks at lightening speed, in a gestalt fashion (many things at once), and it takes time to project the multidimensional nature of thought into a linear expository expression. So I shall post this for now, and make various social networks such as Facebook and Plurk aware of its presence, and then begin to add my thoughts and impressions in a fashion which I hope will be fair to the European and most especially the far East point of view, and yet accurate with regard to America past and present, and the circumstances which Barack Obama reluctantly has inherited.

It is ironic that I should be approached today by an Indonesian when last night I watched a long documentary, hosted by Daljit Dhaliwal, on the huge health problem caused in Indonesia by the American controlled cigarette industry.

I have always admired Indonesia for being the largest Islamic democracy in the world (if I am not mistaken) and for having a fairly open-minded secular view. I am told that honor killings, so common in Pakistan and even in India among certain Hindus, are unknown in Indonesia. A year ago I read that the mullahs in Indonesia were composing a fatwah against smoking as being haram (forbidden). By the way, I also admire Tunesia (another Islamic nation) which has a zero tolerance policy towards honor killings. Furthermore, I want to mention that Morocco was the very first nation to sign a treaty of friendship with America after the war of independence (a treaty which is still in effect today). Morocco instituted a religious training program for women who work with the mullahs around the country to guard against overly extremist teachings which might lean towards terrorism. I also greatly admire Kemal Attaturk for his efforts to modernize Turkey and wean it from the ways of the Ottoman empire (that sick man of Europe). I am saying all these things to express the many ways in which Islamic societies have succeeded in achieving a secular moderate form which is tolerant of minority diversity. I do realize that Indonesia is not without its problems of friction with its Christian minorities. I think it is very important for non-Muslims to constantly remind themselves of all the moderate and congenial forms which Islam has assumed over the centuries. And conversely, I shall attempt to summarize some of America’s short-comings in order to be fair and honest. And it is important for Europe, the Middle East and the Far East to remind themselves of all the many good points about America. Both sides have made the grave mistake of demonizing each other at points, and stereotyping and profiling, but we must not continue in this path or it will only lead to more violence.

If both sides are to achieve balance and harmony, and the world is very much divided right now into two “camps”, then each side must do its utmost to praise it’s opponent for all the good points and to confess its own shortcomings.

“Carrot and Stick” are the exact words which my Indonesia friend used. My Filipina wife asked me exactly what is mean by “Carrot and Stick.” I explained that there are old jokes and cartoons about people who want to motivate a simple-minded mule or donkey harnessed to a cart, and so they tie a carrot to a stick, and hold it just beyond the animal’s reach, and so the gullible creature struggles forward, hoping to approach the carrot, but of course never makes any progress and most likely never even gets to eat the carrot. Over the years, a different notion of stick has crept in; the notion of “speak softly and carry a big stick.” So, a carrot and stick policy means that if you do what we want we shall reward you, but if you dont cooperate, then we shall hurt you.

Our very next task is to avail ourselves of google search and find out just what the rest of the world is saying about America’s carrot and stick policy, since we are so wrapped up in what our media considers important that we are often unaware of what the rest of the world thinks or feels.

We find references to a carrot and stick policy with regard to many nations:

Darfur

Iran

American Hedge Funds

Pakistan

North Korea

US Health Care

Afghanistan

Cuba

Child Support

Nutrition

Employee Motivation

Housing

WELL, I could perhaps go on and on. Google yields a total of 800 results on a search of OBAMA CARROT AND STICK.

I really had no idea what I would find out from this search but it seems that I have stumbled across a veritable forest of carrots and sticks! Poor Barack is beginning to resemble Bugs Bunny, and I suppose all the groups who have a gripe with Obama are beginning to resemble Elmer Fudd.

Now if I make some joke about “slap stick comedy” (carrot stick slap) you will rightly accuse me of being too corny (carrot, corn).

I am not trying to make light of my Indonesian friend’s important question, but there is an amusing side to all this which is quite unexpected.

We all realize that at the heart of all discord lies two sides with conflicting interests. Peaceful solutions always involve negotiations which we hope will ultimately resolve into what is regarded by both sides as a “win-win” situation where each side maximizes its gains and minimizes loss. Of course, the non-peaceful approach is war, where both sides suffer death and destruction, and the winner takes all. So, at the heart of any negotiation is what may be viewed as “carrots and sticks.”

The entire world is driven by media spin and rhetoric of buzz-words
and buzz terms. “Carrots and Sticks” is but one buzz-term. If you will pardon another pun, whenever our knee-jerk reaction leads us to trot out buzz terms, then we are starting out with a tremendous CHIP (get it, stick, wood, chip) on our shoulders.

At first, I did not know which country my IRC friend was from, but I guessed India, because he was very formal and polite. He begged my pardon for sending me a private message, and then he addressed me as “Sir”. Only young people from India, or Malaysia or Indonesia will be this polite to their elders. And everyone in IRC knows my full name, knows that I am age 60, which astounds then, for they do not encounter anyone as ancient as 60 in IRC. My friend was very timid and hesitant to ask me his question, for he feared I might be defensive of America and my President. He does not realize that being a white American, I have a great deal of contempt for the bad things I see in American history, and the evil I see from centuries of white European Christian colonial aggression, slavery, exploitation and genocide.

One college student in India once mentioned Che Guevara to me, and assumed that as an American I must hate Che Guevara. I explained to him that actually Americans admire bandit revolutionary types like Che Guevara. We wear Che Guevara tee-shirts, and see such a persona as similar to our John Wayne types. We also very much admire India’s Pulan Devi (the woman bandito who could never be captured by India’s government). The student in India was shocked that I knew about Pulan Devi, and was not so pleased that I admire her and rubbed his nose in his own nation’s dark side.

When I learned that my new friend is from Indonesia, I mentioned that his language is Bahasa Indonesia, and that Bahasa shares the same root as Bhasa Braj which is the language of Vrindavan in which the Asta Chapp poets of the 13th century composed. He was somewhat surprised and perhaps embarrassed that I knew some things about his culture of which he is unaware.

I did not mention to him Bhoomi Putra (son’s of the soil), also spelled Bhumi. If you google on this term you will mostly find
links about Indonesia’s highest award. But, Bhumi Putra has a different meaning. I met a Chinese minority from Indonesia, and I mentioned Bhumi Putra, and he spat and said “no good.” If someone is born in Indonesia but is not Muslim, their rights are somewhat limited. But, if they CONVERT to Islam, THEN they become Bhumi Putra, and have special rights and perhaps even receive some land. Perhaps I am confusing Bhumi Putra with Malaysia

As I search, I find that only Malaysia is in the news for Bhumi Putra discrimination in their constitution, but certainly such sentiments must be active in Indonesia as well.

Now, I am not trying to make light of the “carrot and stick” question. I am not trying to make Indonesians and Malaysians feel bad. And I am not trying to make Americans look good.

Let us look at Barack Obama for a moment. His mother was Caucasian. His father was African. Genetically, Barack COULD have come out looking white as wonder bread, white as me. If Barack had been born with white skin, Americans would have seen him in a very different light, because Americans are basically stupid. Most of humanity is basically stupid. A white looking Barack would be just as Negro (half Negro to be precise) as a dark skinned Obama. But the American public would have had a harder time seeing his election as a first for Negroes. I only mention this to underscore the low common denominator of mentality which makes this political world of our go ’round.

+++++++++
Sunday afternoon, day 2 of this blog, Dec 27, 2009

I was pleased to find that my new friend, Giri Alam, has added me to Facebook, so now we may get to know one another better and peer through the blog portal into the world of America and the world of Indonesia, through an old man’s eyes, and a young man’s eyes.

And thank you so much for contacting me in Ubuntu IRC and asking me this very interesting question. I am just having my Sunday late morning coffee, and thinking about what I want to add to that post.

Part of my efforts in that post will be to paint a picture of how I imagine Europe, South America and Asia view America and also now America sees itself, its self-interest, and the rest of the world.

When I first searched on “carrot and stick” I did not realize how WIDE SPREAD that phrase is, both abroad and at home. I think this demonstrates a world-wide reluctance to admit that there MUST be compromise on each side of each issue, whether political, economic or religious. We must not resent the very process itself of peaceful negotiation because none of us can have our cake and eat it too (as the old saying goes.) Whenever diplomacy and arbitration fails, the next step is violence whether in a formal declared act of war, or guerrilla tactics, or individual acts of terrorism.

I shall now paste this very post at the bottom of my blog and try to add thoughts throughout the day.

Marshall McLuhan coined the term “global village” sometime in the 1960s long before anyone ever dreamed of things like IRC (the first chat program, developed in Oulu, Finland, or the Internet.

Now we see how easy it is for two people of vastly separated geographically and in age and culture to become.

OK…. HERE IS THE BIG QUESTION! IS THERE SOME WAY, ANY WAY FOR ALL THE OPPOSING SIDES, Muslim, Jew, Christian, Hindu, Buddhist, Communist, Capitalist, Industrialist, Farmer, etc to find compromises which allows us all a measure of freedom to live as we see fit without threatening one another?

I am going to introduce a term which some of you may have seen and for others it will be a new concept. The term is MEME.

Not only do we live in an electronic village where people living at opposite sides of the globe may be friends, but we share a body of knowledge which we may search and link to at will, which some years ago I began to call META-MIND, when I said “Internet is metamind”. All I need to do is throw a handful of links at you like so much pixie dust from Tinkerbell in a fairy tale, and suddenly, your mind has wrapped or grokked around something totally new and different.

Now, why should it be necessary for me to throw the pixie dust of all these links at you (all of you) and hope that you GROK them? What could any of this possibly have to do with the simpler question of what I as an American think of Barack Obama’s “carrot and stick” policies?

Well, it has something to do with a term called “illation” which was coined by Cardinal Newman, who left the Anglican Church of England and became a high ranking Bishop in the Roman Catholic Church.

Let us look at a brief excerpt from Cardinal Newman’s writings:

WE are in a world of facts, and we use them; for there is nothing else to use. We do not quarrel with them, but we take them as they are, and avail ourselves of what they can do for us. It would be out of place to demand of fire, water, earth, and air their credentials, so to say, for acting upon us, or ministering to us. We call them elements, and turn them to account, and make the most of them. We speculate on them at our leisure. But what we are still less able to doubt about or annul, at our leisure or not, is that which is at once their counterpart and their witness, I mean, ourselves. We are conscious of the objects of external nature, and we reflect and act upon them, and this consciousness, reflection, and action we call our rationality. And as we use the (so called) elements without first criticizing what we have no command over, so is it much more unmeaning in us to criticize or find fault with our own nature, which is nothing else than we ourselves, instead of using it according to the use of which it ordinarily admits. Our being, with its faculties, mind and body, is a fact not admitting of question, all things being of necessity referred to it, not it to other things.


As I now write about “illation” and “groking” to answer my Indonesian friend’s question about “carrot and stick” policy, and now quote from Newman’s “Grammar of Assent” (with the intention of dragging into all this the Jain concept of Anekantavada), why is it that thoughts of Bonhoeffer’s “Cost of Discipleship” (seemingly so unrelated) suddenly enter my mind?

====
Sorry for being away from this complex issue for so long, but I had to post many things in a Facebook thread discussion on Aquinas, Iranaeus and Christianity vs. modern humanism, with special reference to Hans Kung’s “On Being Christian”.

If you were to ask me the worst thing that America has done to Indonesia, and the nicest thing they have done FOR Indonesia, I would have to say, off the top of my head, that the worst thing is the Philip Morris Tobacco company using Indonesia to promote smoking especially among teenagers, and the best thing is that America and the WHO (World Health Organization) REALIZES what a terrible thing it has done, and has tried to get Indonesia to sign an agreement that would make life for tobacco companies more difficult.

If you were to ask me regarding the worst things that America has done in its history, I would have to answer the enslavement genocide of native Americans, the enslavement of Africans, and colonial aggression against Hawaii, the Philippines, and various Caribbean Central and South American nations under various guises and euphemisms of liberation and economic aid.

If you were to ask me the best things that America has given to the world, I would have to say the notion of a Constitution and constitutional law (and slowly but surely, International Law) and some genuine concern for human rights even in places that do not contain oil (although the mercy and justice of liberation is far swifter in oil bearing nations).

In order for you to understand MY view of things, you must in some sense BECOME me, and see what I have seen, and know what I know after the fashion that I know it. This is why I mention Cardinal Newman’s Illation in his Grammar of Conviction which is simply to say that we arrive at our convictions and certainties after years and years of very small experiences and observations which add up to the person that we are.

If you happen to be, say Ibn Khaldun of 14th century Tunisia then that constellation of experiences causes you to see the truth of reality in one way.

Anekantavada is an ancient Jain philosophical concept which fits right in with Cardinal Newman’s illation.

It refers to the principles of pluralism and multiplicity of viewpoints, the notion that truth and reality are perceived differently from diverse points of view, and that no single point of view is the complete truth.

So, you see, I am quite un-American to the degree that I see McCain’s brand of patriotism as monstrous. And I am quite Socratic to the degree that I see myself as a “citizen of the world” (and how large was the known world when Socrates allegedly said that, since the total human population in 400 b.c.e. is estimated to be only 6 million, and not todays 6.7 billion.)

One young, enthusiastic, rather ill-educated Republican boasted to me on Facebook that America is the BEST because Canada could not beat up Vermont, and Canada realizes this, and Vermont realizes this. How tragic that one should view the greatness of one’s nation and culture in terms of coercive destructive force!
Yet Putin of Russia glories in the fact that as a former KGB operative he can still beat people up in a martial arts competition.
I understand that Obama’s big sports accomplishment is in basketball, so he might out DUNK you but he would not dream of KERPLUKING you.

You see, the pen is mightier than the sword (and this we all agree) but shall the spoken and written word prove mightier than a marving nuclear warhead? This remains to be seen!

Seminar on Baudilaire

December 25, 2009 by William Buell

Baudelaire Seminar
I shall be attending a private seminar on these poems:

Four Poems by Baudelaire

Rising Up

Above the pools, above the valleys,
The mountains, the woods, the clouds, the seas,
Beyond the sun, beyond the aether,
Beyond the confines of the starry spheres,

My mind, you move with agility,
And, like a good swimmer that swoons in the wave,
You cheerfully plough the deep immensity
With an ineffable and virile voluptuousness.

Fly far away from these morbid defilements;
Go purify yourself in the upper air,
And drink, like a liquor pure and divine,
The clear fire that fills the limpid spaces.

Behind the boredoms and vast sorrows
That load with their weight foggy existence,
Happy is he who can, with vigorous wing,
Dart through the fields luminous and serene;

Whose thoughts, like larks,
Take a free flight across the skies at morning,
—Who soars above life, and comprehends without effort
The language of flowers and of things that are mute.

Correspondences

Nature is a temple where pillars, alive,
Sometimes emit indistinguishable words;
Man passes in there through forests of symbols
Which observe him with familiar looks.

Like lingering echoes that are mingled far off
In a one-ness tenebrous and profound,
Vast as the night and as the light of day,
Fragrances, colors, and sounds correspond.

There are fragrances fresh like the flesh of children,
Sweet like oboes, green like prairies
—, And others, corrupt, rich and triumphant,

Having the expansion of infinite things,
Like ambergris, musk, benjamin, and incense.
Which sing of the transports of mind and sense.

Beauty

I am beautiful, O mortals! like a dream of stone,
And my breast, where each batters himself in turn,
Is made to inspire in the poet a love
Eternal and as mute as matter.

I am enthroned in the blue like a sphinx not understood;
I unite a heart of snow with the whiteness of swans;
I hate the movement that displaces my lines,
And never do I weep and never do I smile.

Poets, before my grandiose poses,
Which I have the air of borrowing from the proudest monuments,
Consume their days in austere studies;

For I have, to bewitch these docile lovers,
Pure mirrors which make all things more beautiful:
My eyes, my wide eyes with their eternal lights!

Hymn to Beauty

Do you come from deep heaven or go out from the abyss,
O Beauty! Your look, infernal and divine,
Pours out confusedly goodness and crime,
And in this one may compare you to wine.

You contain in your eye the dusk and the dawn,
You emit perfumes like a stormy evening;
Your kisses are a potion and your mouth an amphora
Which make the hero cowardly and the child brave.

Do you come out of the black pit or descend from the stars?
Destiny, charmed, follows your skirts like a dog;
You sow, at random, joy and disaster,
And you govern all and answer to nothing.

You walk on the dead, Beauty, whom you mock;
Of your jewels Horror is not the least charming,
And murder, among your dearest trinkets,
On your proud belly dances amorously.

The mayfly, dazzled, flies to you, candle,
Crackles, goes up in flame and says: Blessed be this torch!
The panting lover bent over his sweetheart
Has the air of a dying man caressing his tomb.

Whether you come from heaven or from hell, what does it matter,
O Beauty! monster enormous, terrifying, naïve!
If your eye, your smile, your foot, open to me the door
Of an infinity that I love and never have known?

From Satan or from God, what does it matter? Angel or Siren,
What does it matter, if you render—fairy with velvet eyes,
Rhythm, perfume, glitter, O my only queen!—
The universe less hideous and moments less dull?

My thougts/reactions so far…
Beauty, Bowdlerized as Truth

Understanding is the Sphinx’ death,
Bursting mystery’s numinous bubble.
Answers kill wonder and awe.
Wisdom slays childhood and innocence.
Sobriety and moderation
Chain the manic frenzy of inspiration,
Where formerly daemon and muse took possession.

Beyond the bronze of being,
The mind’s lust fantasizes,
Stripping Draupadi naked
From her infinite attire.
The more we pull and yank,
The more she spins,
A dervish uncontrolled.
Heidegger, that red-eyed elder peeping,
Spies Being, bathing in her garden,
“Preferring not to” is her sweet refrain.
Our minds becomes entangled.
And it is then we know
That thought leads not the way out of this cave.
Our starry, upward gaze is dizzying.

I am an ugly Daedelus, singed
By perfection imagined, out of reach.
This vicious syndrome,
Poems amplified
In Phalerus’ infundibulum,
Have deafened me
More than waxen Sirens’ antidotes.
Psalms, become sonnets, reverting, again psalmic;
Sonic booms,
As time comes to a
Light-speed’s screeching halt,
And galaxies implode,
To singularities.

Can a poem be discussed in prose?
Or is the tuning fork, in sympathy,
Trembling, in vrittic emulation,
The only accord reached?

Anciently there was a tongue, declined
With endings as those languages now dead,
Whose similarity made all speech rhyme,
And prose a difficult and somber deed.

The height of mind is the language of one word,
Which, from it, when once uttered, comes one thought.
And that thought might be every thought;
The tidalness of space,
The birth of stars,
The wandering of suns and planets;
Cool clear jets of thought which might rain down,
Smoothly to one thin current of emotion.
Convections in the winds of reasons,
The vortex of meanings and the flow of words
From the mouth of the mind.
Signatures of the wind, the rain, and time upon the rocks,
‘Til they be sands to span the stones and pebbles;
The nature of resistance
In indigestible nuggets.

Words learned become lines,
Lines stanzas,
Stanzas poems,
And poems words again,
As concepts are captured by the general mind.

Tonic and chromatic of emotions,
Sing me a beginning that I may start.
Form for me the modality of thought,
The turn of time,
The line eternal that will rhyme
With itself and itself again in repetition.
Glisten with your voice the light of death,
Decomposing in a swamp a log, a leaf,
Born, now dying, cyclic and serene.
Tell my why a god’s first word is “green”.

Once, in the nerving shallow of this world,
A someone happened, and I happened too.
And we became each other,
Sinking through the noiseless voice embraced.
And we communicated.
And still there was no trace
Between the airless aethers of the waste
Of our exchange.
And still no change was made
Except within the realms of our recall.
And all around us was the gentle fall
Of sentence fragments,
Dust of old ideas.
And as it drifted past our face,
Upon the force of passions gone extinct
Expressed agos ago
At objects which they missed,
We came apart to find we were the same.
No name was different;
No souvenirs of all that passed between,
No places to revisit,
For there was no place,
Except in the passing time,
No sign remaining, symbol or design
To trace or recreate our path,
When we, so near, no longer had to hear,
For we could touch intention’s very lips,
No remnant to explicate at all,
Except for the sound consuming hush
Of displaced sentience,
It’s rush and fall,
At the tips of our fingertips.

There may never be another time
When you will meet,
When I will meet,
When we will meet,
And feel as we feel now.
There may never come another place,
Another glance where things seem as they are.
And here is the sadness in our happiness:
That what we are
Has still yet to become.

You cast your pebble
In the placid pool.
It sinks the circle of eternity.
A maelstrom vomits back
Ten thousand more,
At you, now stoned,
Harlot that you are.

I am preparing for my seminar tonight. The following analogy occurs to me:

Poetry, in its attempt to put beauty into words, is like the attempt of mathematics to express reality.

If a single integral is an area under a curve, and a double integral is the volume of a solid, then by analogy and extension, a triple integral must be the volume of some object in four-space.

The symbols and equations represent the reality as a model of that aspect of reality towards which they point, just as the poem points to some aspect of beauty.

We can express mathematically that which we cannot visualize.

We can create a world in which there is a beauty or a love greater than anything we could experience in the flesh, in reality.

Then, we are wounded by our own creation, since we are exiled from the picture of a paradise we have painted.

I attended the seminar on Baudelaire last night. About 50 people showed up for it, and they split up into two groups, with a professor to lead each group.

25 people sit around a huge table, and the professor asks an opening question about the poems. I tried to take a lot of notes. Anyone is free to respond, question, or make a point. When they begin speaking, they “have the floor” for a minute or so. There is no system to it, but it seems to work in a random but orderly fashion. All participants have experienced this particular method of seminar for years, so, they are accustomed to it, sort of like a sports team I suppose, running around, but trained, disciplined, to act as an organic unity of “seminar”. One elderly gentleman had been doing it since 1944. He was really quite remarkable when he spoke.

I did not speak the whole evening, but made notes. There were plenty of people to participate. Had there been some embarrassing silence, then I would have thrown issues/topics onto the table for discussion. But there was no need. And I am free to absorb what they were discussing, and write my own thoughts privately.

I am going to review my notes, and try to put into words what was said.

The opening question was: “What is it about Beauty in these four poems that so fascinates Baudelaire?”

The point was made that Baudelaire seems to be suggesting or seeking where beauty comes from but not what beauty is (in stark contrast to the manner that a Socrates or an Aristotle might try to define the what something such as, say “Justice” or “Virtue”.)

The seekers or admirers or lovers of Beauty seem to be passive, and Beauty, though at times personified, with moods (such as hatred) seems aloof and indifferent to the effect it has upon the seekers, or perhaps even an innocence (in the sense that Beauty is unaware of what is going on).

In these poems, there seems to be a self-sufficiency to Beauty. The French word (I have to look up the spelling) ingenue (an-je-NEW) was mentioned as the word for innocent.

Someone commented that Beauty does not seem to know that it is creating horror or death.

There was some discussion of “opening the door to infinity.”

Beauty seems “cold hearted” in the poems, with a “heart of snow” combined with the “whiteness of swans”.

How self-conscious is Beauty in these poems?

(I am narrating what I heard said, and not my own thoughts, so I shall dispense with phrases like “someone asked” or “somoneone commented”.)

Is there a struggle between Beauty and the poet?

What Baudelaire describes of Beauty seems amoral, neither about goodness nor truth.

The professor mentioned the meaning of “tenebrous” as having to do, in the Catholic Church, with the notion that, between the crucifixion and the resurrection, God dies, and there is some form of chaos. I am not very familiar with this notion.

There was some discussion of the soul “wandering in a forest of symbols.”

Then, there is the wordless language of flowers.

Someone mentioned Baudelaire’s pleasure in self-loathing.

There is something which draws the soul or spirit back to a primordial “one” or unity.

There are correspondences and a synesthesia (like tasting colors).

How does one “say the unsayable?”

How does one understand the “mute language of flowers?”

The most important word Baudelaire uses is ‘esprit’ or mind, in the intellectual sense, which is sort of at odds with all the sensuality going on.

Baudelaire seems content “not to know” Beauty, i.e. not to understand in an intellectual sense.

In the previous post I attempted to summarize some of the things others were saying during the seminar.

In this post, I shall try to put into words some of the things I was thinking about, but did not say.

We would like to think that truth is beauty; beauty truth
but in reality, truth is often ugly and beauty is illusory.

Baudelaire questions whether Beauty is from heaven or hell.

I was reminded of how Socrates was always saying that “every person, by nature, desires the good.” I suppose what Socrates says is kind of a solepsism. I mean, why would you desire it, truly, if you sincerely felt it was not good. But, if what Socrates says is true, then even people like Hitler by nature desire the good. So we have a world of good and evil, which result from the actions of a multitude of souls/beings striving toward something which is only good, but aloof, distant, above, like a Platonic form of Justice or Virtue; an unmoved mover, which moves and motivates everything else, but is itself unmoved and unsullied, untainted.

For me, Beauty, like Aristotle’s God, is an unmoved mover, but a diety which is continually begotten by the human mind and imagination.

We human beings have the wonderful and terrible capacity to imagine a perfection greater than anything which could ever exist; not simply the best of all possible worlds, but a better than any possible world. This potency of our imagination is both our blessing and our curse.

I apologize if I seem so articulate about my ideas, and somewhat vague in my recapitulation of the discussion. My ideas are more accessible and clear to me, than the ideas of 30 minds around a table. One would need to study a video tape, but that was not an option.

Actually, it would be kind of neat, if there were like a world wide study group, on something like Baudelaire (or pick an author of interest), and if there was a television channel with seminars on that author, and then blogs and message boards, and really fine minds around the world, fashioning some grand comprehensive understanding or insight. Of course, that sort of thing has been happening, in a sense, for millenia, the grand dialogue or grand narrative of all the great writers and thinkers, who study one another, across the centuries. But with Internet, and modern media technology, such a process might possibly be greatly accelerated.

If one or two readers of this forum choose to attend a four year college like St. Johns, in Annapolis, or Sante Fe, then they will spend four years in seminars having conversations similar to what I am narrating here, on books like Kants Critiques, Tolstoy, Homer, Plato, Rabelaise, Pascal, Descartes, Locke, etc. etc. It is sort of a luxury education, because it does not directly prepare you with some “marketable skills” such as accounting or brain surgery. But it does give you one thing in your undergraduate education which is hard to find in a traditional university or college; continual daily expository dialogue – you really learn how to think on your feet. This is a very different experience from sitting in a lecture hall, reading textbooks, taking exams and finals, writing papers.

Anyway, back to the topic of what I was thinking about but not saying in the seminar.

I could not remember the name of the mathematician that Kurt Godel argued against in the World Parliament of mathematicians around 1900. I had to google (yes, I confess it). That mathematician was Hilbert. Hilbert argued that any statement which is true in mathemitics must be provable by means of a theorem or theorems in an axiomatic system. Godel believed that it was possible for there to be things which are true but not proveable within a particular axiomatic system. Godel finally PROVED that their must necessarily exist certain unproveable truths in his incompleteness theorem. What this all sort of means, is that the job of mathematicans is never ending; mathematics can never reach a point where it is finished, and we know all there is to know (a goal which Descarte dreamed of and which Hegel called “Absolute Knowledge”).

Now, what does any of this have to do, pray tell, with Baudelaire and Beauty, you may wonder. Well, in a like fashion, we may ask whether the task of the artist or poet or author will ever be finished. Will there ever be a “great american novel” (or the great Lithuanian novel… pick your favorite nation)?

Baudelaire seems to be an olympic swimmer madly paddling towards an opposite shore which always seems within reach, but is in reality, unreachable.

Rising Up

My mind, you move with agility,
And, like a good swimmer that swoons in the wave,
You cheerfully plough the deep immensity
With an ineffable and virile voluptuousness.
For some reason, these lines remind me of Wallace Stevens,

Emperor of Ice Cream

Strong men whip
In kitchen cups
Concupiscent curds.

Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.
A Sphynx is only enthroned as long as it is obscure. Once we answer all its questions, then, we are no longer subject to it. The Sphynx is suddenly unemployed. BUT, we too are suddenly unemployed (no more windmills to go jousting at).

Is reality analog or is it digital? If it is digital, then ultimately, everything can be precisely expressed as a sequence of numbers, or symbols, or genome DNA codes, or words, or statements.

If, however, reality is analog, then any attempt at digital representation is doomed to be only an approximation, like the irrational number Pi.

You know, in Homer’s Iliad, there is the wonderful scene of “the aresteia of Diomedes”.

In Greek, the word “aristos” means “best”. We derive our word “aristocracy” from “aristos”. Often, in discussions, we find ourselves trying to “get the best” of someone else.

http://www.wsu.edu/~delahoyd/iliad5.html

Aristeia

This “aristeia” or “best of” Diomedes can be understood as a sort of peak experience — it’s a natural high when you have one of these days, and it’s as if a god is metaphorically present.

A famous error on Homer’s part suggests to the scholars that the poet was unclear about certain aspects of military history.

Breaking ranks they rushed ahead in their chariot,
charging Diomedes already dismounted,
rearing up on foot. (5.12-14)
Apparently, after all the hoopla, these warriors use their chariots only to taxi themselves to the line of battle; then they park, dismount, and start the day’s fight.
Pandarus is one of the victims of Diomedes — interesting to students of Chaucer, who quite rightfully despise Diomedes, who for all his success here is a butthead.

Hephaestos saves a warrior. Aeneas is hit by a rock, but his mother Aphrodite protects him. Diomedes actually wounds Aphrodite though, so Apollo has to protect Aeneas. Ares too is wounded and complains to Zeus about favoritism — Zeus always sides with Athena. But Ares, the god of war, is surprisingly chewed out in this epic. At the end of the book, no gods are involved in the war directly.
Diomedes was kind of an ancient John Wayne. There have been times in my seminar life when I felt that I was shining for a moment in such an aristeia, or watching someone else in their momentary flash of glory and triumph.

There are times when an “aristeia” is necessary, and even sufficient. And there are other times when being John Wayne means being a “butthead”.

Years ago, I read an astute observation about the Russian space program visa vis the American space program. The American astronaut had so much control of his ship, that one might call the astronaut a pilot. The Russian vehicle was under so much ground control that the astronaut was more properly a passenger taking a ride than a pilot mastering his destiny. The observer attempted to attribute this difference to a difference in the ideological mentality of the two societies. When you have an army filled with John Waynes, then, when they are cornered, with their backs against the wall, then they come flying out of the bunker bare-chested, screaming, with a hand-grenade in each fist. When an army is conditioned to unquestioning obedience to one centralized authority, then if that authority is suddenly destroyed, or inaccessible, then they are at a loss as to what to do.

Many species of mammals are gregarious, but, as Aristotle once pointed out, humans are the only political animal. Societies are herds taken to the extreme.

Like lingering echoes that are mingled far off
In a one-ness tenebrous and profound,
Vast as the night and as the light of day,
Fragrances, colors, and sounds correspond.

http://www.netglimse.com/holidays/go…/history.shtml

Service of Tenebrae
Some Western churches still celebrate a medieval liturgy called the Tenebrae, or Service of Darkness, in which candles and lights are gradually extinguished until the congregation sits in complete darkness—a representation of the darkness that covered the earth at the death of Jesus (Mark 15:33). Scripture readings and hymns lead the worshipers in a communal repentance for the sins that made the Crucifixion necessary.

The Tenebrae service ends with the strepitus, a loud, harsh noise such as the slamming of a book or crashing of a cymbal. This echoes several scriptural sounds: the final cries of Jesus, the earthquake at his death (Matt. 27:46-53), the shutting of His tomb, and the second earthquake at His rising (Matt. 28:2).

We do not need to be as notorious in our sinning as Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) to remember our own darkness, as he did, on Good Friday. Wilde’s 1881 poem “E Tenebris,” titled after the Tenebrae, reflects his own long, conflicted entrance into Christianity that would culminate in a deathbed conversion. In the poem, he appeals for mercy:

E TENEBRIS

Come down, O Christ, and help me! reach Thy hand,
For I am drowning in a stormier sea
Than Simon on Thy lake of Galilee:
The wine of life is spilt upon the sand,
My heart is as some famine-murdered land
Whence all good things have perished utterly,
And well I know my soul in Hell must lie
If I this night before God’s throne should stand.
‘He sleeps perchance, or rideth to the chase,
Like Baal, when his prophets howled that name
From morn to noon on Carmel’s smitten height.’
Nay, peace, I shall behold, before the night,
The feet of brass, the robe more white than flame,
The wounded hands, the weary human face.

What are “Flowers of Evil?”
What is the language of mute things such as flowers? What are Flowers of Evil (Fleurs du Mal) and what do they have to tell us?

A flower is a symbol for us which points to a Spring and a Summer to come and is a harbinger of some future fruit to bear or seed to yield.

Jung speaks of shadows which we project into the world and then behold as if they were real and “out there” and truly other that us. We do not see such shadows as of our own making.

A thought blossoms, and such a flower is portentous of an action or deed.

We wander in a forest of symbols which give us familiar looks and glances.

Correspondences

Nature is a temple where pillars, alive,
Sometimes emit indistinguishable words;
Man passes in there through forests of symbols
Which observe him with familiar looks.

Like lingering echoes that are mingled far off
In a one-ness tenebrous and profound,
Vast as the night and as the light of day,
Fragrances, colors, and sounds correspond.

There are fragrances fresh like the flesh of children,
Sweet like oboes, green like prairies
—, And others, corrupt, rich and triumphant,

Having the expansion of infinite things,
Like ambergris, musk, benjamin, and incense.
Which sing of the transports of mind and sense.

What I say to you each day, these thoughts and sentences which drip as from some alchemist’s alembic, drop by drop, day by day, like the squeezings from some ancient olive press: such thoughts are not my thoughts in the sense of the me you might sit with at a table and share a cup or glass. These words are from the virtual self I might have been, were I to be recast with infinite time and power, and an expansive consciousness of galactic proportions. The daily me is as mute as those flowers of Baudelaire. I can only give you familiar glances at the table, portentous of what I would like to say, but cannot.

It is only through the wine press and alembic of the written word that the portrait of our virtual self emerges in a painful pointillism of points and viewpoints, arranged and rearranged upon a canvas stretched, and framed just in time for our funeral.

I awaken at ungodly hours which such thoughts as these, fleeting, and I must arise and attempt to capture them in words, or, like timid unicorns sensing lust, they will elude their author.

There are conversations with the dead which may be overheard only in seminars with are soliloquies and monologues. There are attentions which span epochs. Such seminars as these are not infested with the plagues of ego and sophistry.

Such a glacial seminar is mentioned in Malachi:

The Seminar in the Book of Prophet Malachi

http://www.ccel.org/c/calvin/comment…/iv.iv.xiv.htm

http://www.rjconline.org/mn19.html

One of the verses in Malachi reads “Az nidberu yir’ei Hashem, va-yakshev Hashem va-yishma, va-yikatev sefer zikaron lefanav, etc., Then those who fear the Lord conversed, and God heeded and listened, and it was written in the book of remembrance before Him.”

Malachi 3:16. Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another: and the Lord hearkened, and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name.

http://www.online-literature.com/for…50&postcount=2

Rabbi Kook, the first Ashkenazie Chief Rabbi of Jerusalem, quotes a Rabbi of old, Nahman from Bratslav regarding the 3rd chapter of Malachai (which is the last book of the Old Testament). The verse in Chapter 3:16 of Malachi reads: ““Those who feared the Lord spoke to one another, and the Lord listened and heard them. A book of remembrance was written before Him for those who fear the Lord and who meditate on His Name.”

The Rabbi Nahman of Bratslav comments that “Two men who live in different places, or even in different generations, may still converse. For one may raise a question, and the other who is far away in time or space may make a comment or ask a question that answers it. So they converse, but no one knows it save the Lord, who hears and records and brings together all the words of men, as it is written: “They who serve the Lord speak to one another, and the Lord hears them and records their words in His Book” (Mal.3.16)

This is the Talmudic dialectical process.

Is Beauty the Flower and Truth the fruit? But what shall we say of flowers which yield no fruit? What shall we say of a wondrous Spring which leads to no laborious harvest of Fall?

Wise Lady Diotema tutored Socrates in a ladder of divine ascent, climbing arduously, rung by rung, from the particulars of sense perception and tactile pleasures to the very Forms which cast such shadowsplay.

Quote:
Originally Posted by The Ladder of Love

http://www.mc.maricopa.edu/~yount/te…to-ladder.html

Starting from individual beauties, the quest for the universal beauty must find him ever mounting the heavenly ladder, stepping from rung to rung–that is, from one to two, and from two to every lovely body, from bodily beauty to the beauty of institutions, from institutions to learning, and from learning in general to the special lore that pertains to nothing but the beautiful itself–until at last he comes to know what beauty is.

And if, my dear Socrates, Diotima went on, man’s life is ever worth the living, it is when he has attained this vision of the very soul of beauty. And once you have seen it, you will never be seduced again by the charm of gold, of dress, of comely boys, or lads just ripening to manhood; you will care nothing for the beauties that used to take your breath away and kindle such a longing in you, and many others like you, Socrates, to be always at the side of the beloved and feasting your eyes upon him, so that you would be content, if it were possible, to deny yourself the grosser necessities of meat and drink, so long as you were with him.

But if it were given to man to gaze on beauty’s very self–unsullied, unalloyed, and freed from the mortal taint that haunts the frailer loveliness of flesh and blood–if, I say, it were given to man to see the heavenly beauty face to face, would you call his, she asked me, an unenviable life, whose eyes had been opened to the vision, and who had gazed upon it in true contemplation until it had become his own forever?

And remember, she said, that it is when he looks upon beauty’s visible presentment, and only then, that a man will be quickened with the true, and not the seeming, virtue–for it is virtue’s self that quickens him, not virtue’s semblance. And when he has brought forth and reared this perfect virtue, he shall be called the friend of god, and if ever it is given to man to put on immortality, it shall be given to him

(Plato – Symposium 210a-212b).
Jesus once saw a fig tree from a distance, whose foliage and bloom promised fruit. Yet, when he approached to partake, he found no fruit. So, he cursed the tree saying “Xeranthesete!” (Be thou whithered). The next day, the Apostles observed that the tree had dried up and died. The blind see at once. The dead arise immediately. The tree dies overnight.

Is the fig tree evil because it is useless?

Is Abortion Taking Life

December 23, 2009 by William Buell

William : Its better to “get a life” than “take a life.” (hey I just made this up)

Karen :
Is abortion taking a life?

William :
Well, in a weird sense, celibacy is taking a life, and the first commandment in Genesis is, be fruitful and multiply. And smoking and drinking is taking ones own life prematurely. I was primarily thinking of all those situations when we tell people “get a life”, versus all the people around the world who die each year from military and police … violence (as well as the actions of suicide bombers). But why beat the Bible over abortion, when Jesus never said boo about abortion or homosexuality. Jesus DID say that divorce is unacceptable EXCEPT on the grounds of adultery, and Jesus DID NOT say that remarriage was permitted, so perhaps he meant that you should put away the adulterous spouse and live the remainder of your life in celibacy. But why not agitate for the criminalization of divorce, if America is such a Bible based “God loving” nation. I find it somewhat hypocritical that no one is on the bandstand giving stump speeches on that one. And, you know what, if people WERE concerned enough to criminalize divorce, then they would probably be so self-controlled that abortion would rarely become an issue, because they would only be sexually active for the purpose of procreation. Karen, you pose your post as a question. But I doubt that it is a sincere question in your mind. You have your own agenda, and you approach it in a dishonest fashion by pretending that you have a question. I do not know how such disingenuous tactics could ever truly occupy moral high ground.

Timothy :
Is it not the hall-mark of a Johnnie to present one’s opinions in the guise of a question? Further, if a matter is of moral question, how can we excuse it by pointing to equivocation on other matters of moral question?

William :
We know where all this stuff is REALLY coming from (the conservative Republican religious right), and we know where it is headed. No one person in the history of the world has so far come up with ALL the answers (unless of course you consider Buddha, Jesus or Mohammad to be the final word.) Hume supposedly awoke Kant from his “dogmatic slumber”. Yet Hume is famous for “Hume’s gap” that no IS implies an ought. Yet Kant went on to sketch out a form of ethics. And then the Roman Catholic Church placed Kant (and Pascal and many others) on a banned book list. McCain never seemed to worry about bombing fetuses in Hanoi in an illegal undeclared war, nor the fact that said war had “free fire zones” which included women, children and anything that moved (and I understand why such zones were felt to be necessary.) Yet McCain feels it is important to criminalize abortion. For some strange reason, the European Common Union is very casual on the question of abortion but is adamant that no member nation may practice capital punishment. I am not really trying to equivocate so much as to point out how obviously half-witted so many in the nation are regarding their “values.” I could take the rhetorical tactic that Jesus took on at least one occasion, when asked by the Sadducee/Pharisee if his words were his own or came from God and Jesus cleverly answered “Tell me if John the Baptist is of man or from God” knowing that they would not dare answer one way or the other because of the problems it would cause in public opinion. Therefore I say to Karen, “how many grains of sand constitute a pile or heap? If you give me an excellent answer to this, then I shall give you an excellent answer regarding whether abortion constitutes taking a life. But if you CANNOT give me a good answer to such a simple question, then how shall you be capable of understanding a far more complex moral question about abortion? There are questions and answers and styles which are simply crafty sophism. And then there are questions and points which highlight profound dilemmas regarding the limits of our understanding. Alcohol and tobacco are obviously destructive, yet it is equally obvious that Prohibition CREATED more problems than it solved. Abortion is not the best form of birth control, but prior to Rowe vs. Wade when abortion was criminalized, MORE problems were created than were solved, and many years of Republican conservative government did not seem improve the moral fiber or the economy of the nation.

Timothy:
How then would *you* ask a question concerning the morality of abortion?

William: Timothy and Karen, congratulations, you have spent a lot of money on your educations and have learned the marvelous art of one-line repartee. You demonstrate it right here in this thread. You say nothing of substance. You simply toss of one or two sentences as a reaction to my sincere effort to say something of substance. If you really have values and insights and convictions which are of any value at all, then use the note section of Facebook, or a WordPress blog, and write 5 or 10 pages where you succinctly get off your backsides and lay down point by point what you think, feel, believe, and why you believe. Pick whatever issue is a pressing one for you, be it pro-life/pro-choice issues, or environment, or whatever. Don’t make it ad hominem (dont make it about me). Write about the issues and draw upon all that you remember from everything that you have read.

Timothy, you appear like too much of a coward to even write a simple declarative sentence. You wrote “Is it not the hall-mark of a Johnnie…” You dont even have the guts to declare “everyone knows that the hallmark of a Johnnie…”

I went through 4 years of St. John’s (and I would do it all over). I met a few people who were truly intellectually honest and would directly and aggressively take a stand on something important. But I met a lot more phonies who made it through 4 years just wrinkling their nose in seminar and saying “but I dont GET it, how can you say….”

All of the world is basically divided into LIMB CRAWLERS and LIMB SAWERS. A limb crawler has the courage and ambition to crawl way out on a limb, and TAKE A RISK, assembling together many and various points and passages in order to assert something new, something important.

LIMB SAWYERS are a parasitic species. They cannot exist without a LIMB CRAWLER. They hack away at whatever constructive effort the limb crawler is making. If they succeed, what they succeed in is simply refuting the limb crawler.

Wittgenstein talks about a ladder which we construct to arrived at some higher plain or plateau, and once we have arrived, we caste away that ladder (or limb) just as the person who finally reaches the other side of Samsara and enters Nirvana pushes his vehicle adrift and does not carry it about on the shoulder like Odysseus’ oar, waiting for some limb sawer to ask “what the hell is THAT.”

And as for Karen’s lone question “Is abortion taking life”.. well many things involve taking life. Eating a hamburger involved taking the life of cattle. Plowing a field involves taking the life of worms and other soil dwellers. That is why there is an entire religion, the Jain religion, which forbids a fire after dark because it will take the life of insects attracted to the flame. If you truly find all life sacred, I suggest you become a devout Jain. But that isn’t what Karen meant to ask. She meant to make a statement about abortion, but she has learned cowardly indirect techniques, just like you Timothy. Timothy, if you are so smart, and you seem to feel you are, then why don’t you write a nice long essay enlightening us all in detail about the wisdom of your views. If you cannot do any more than Henny Youngman one-liners, then what have you really done with your life that is of some value?

The Dead Baby Factory

December 21, 2009 by William Buell

The Dead Baby Factory

I remember how easily you laughed.
You laughed at the drop of a hat.
You laughed at the slightest thing.
When I was 49 and you were nine.

The TV groaned as usual.
The newscaster spoke of tragedy.
The death of many infants:
A pharmaceutical error
In quality control.

The TV voice
Repeated ad infinitum:
Dead babies….
…Babies dead
….Babies died
…Dying

You starred blankly,
Immune to daily tragedy
Frankly, in a trance.

But I began to sing a silly song,
and dance a senseless dance:

“Oh, the dead baby factory,
Crunch those babies,
Grind them up,
Squish them,
Scrunch them…”

You laughed until you cried.
You rolled upon the floor
Beyond control.

Life is senseless.
We are senseless too.
We laughed ourselves senseless.

The more I sang and danced
The more you laughed.
Because you laughed,
I sang and danced all the more.
You doubled over
Rolling on the floor.

Laughter, song and dance
Until you pee your pants.

Human life IS, in reality,
A “Dead Baby Factory”,
Except they age the product
Until it’s slightly elderly.

With Ernest and Julio Gallo
We can say:
“We sell no wine before its time.”
But today we are having a special:
Buy one baby,
Get two free.

The shortest verse in Scripture:
“Jesus wept.”

And, as we danced and sang,
Those babies resurrect
And sing and dance with us
Clapping and keeping time.

Macabre or debonheur?
I guess you had to be there!

The tragic and comic blur.

And there we were,
Lost in a moment of childhood,
Forever found,
Throwing humor
Against horror
And winning,
Sartrean humor
Against the anguish
Of senseless existence.

And there we ever are
In that lost and found collection
Realm of the trans-eternal
Moment of recollection
In life’s department store.

We are there right now,
Staring the Void in the face,
Beware be damned!
And back it stares at us and grins
And grimaces
With fun-house mirror faces.

We dance and sing with Nietzsche.

Well, why not?
Life is peachy!

- (5/06/2003)

Because I Was ( a poem)

December 21, 2009 by William Buell

Because I Was

I am a force
By merely being
As I am.

Vision from my vantage
Is a focus
For metamorphosis.

Through my eyes
You see anew
Transformed.

Because I was
What shall be
Has been changed.

Creation is
Re-Creation.

- (5/03/2003)

Ubuntu blows me away

December 21, 2009 by William Buell

Ubuntu 9.10 simply blows me away with its speed and elegance (and so reasonably priced). It took me a total of 50 or 60 hours experimenting, first with Wubi installs on top of Windows, and then with a pure Ubuntu install on a 280 gig
Gateway. I took detailed notes at my WordPress blog. Anyone with those notes should be able to install it in 5 hours or less. Firefox is amazing on Ubuntu. There is a multi platform Instant Message program (Yahoo, AIM, ICQ, MSN, etc), an email client, an IRC client (Konverse) which lands you in a Kubuntu channel with dozens of specialty rooms and hundreds of people on line around the world. The only think it cant do yet, which I like, is Paltalk. Ubuntu updates are far smoother, more automated, less in your face, less annoying than Windows updates. I tried out Ubuntu because I finally had a spare machine I could afford to ruin. I felt if I did succeed in installing Ubuntu, that it would be very primitive and user unfriendly. It is very user friendly with lots of GUI interfaces.
You do not have to be some C++ wizard or know shell and bash commands. You CAN do all that if you know how, but you don’t NEED to to use it. And you get Open Office for spreadsheet, word processor and presentation manager. If more apps become CLOUD based, then you will do everything in your browser, and all apps and data will be on some remote server.

Facebook New Friend Add Boiler Plate

December 21, 2009 by William Buell

Note of interest: My earliest note published in Facebook is dated Wednesday, October 1, 2008 at 2:07pm

We do not know each other at all. Facebook has some algorithm by which it SUGGESTS people that one may care to add, based upon friends in common, or alma mater. I enjoy adding anyone who went through the SJC Great Books program. I was Annapolis, Class of ‘71. Alumni have so much in common, obviously because all four years are required courses/readings.

I have posted on the Internet almost every day since 1998 when I first signed up for AOL dial-up. It is probably easier to simply add people, glance at their profiles and posts, and de-friend them if they are boring, or outright irritating. Some people are very private by nature and only wish to interact with close friends and family. Some days, Facebook will suggest 20 people, and I may request 10 of them. I would never really know who rejects me. I mean, if you went to a pub, would you only wish to talk with relatives and chums from high school, or would you mix with the crowd and look for some interesting conversation? I see Facebook as a giant pub (or tea house if you find intoxicants objectionable). I can no longer drink spirits because of age and health. But I like to follow the thoughts of many different people, most especially people who are in some fashion very different from me in how they see things, simply because such diversity stimulates new ideas, and refreshes old ones.

Why add only people you have met. You know all about them. They are boring. Add 100 people you have never met, and some of them will be interesting, or they will say something idiotic which will inspire you to retort with something brilliant, which will earn you undying fame, immortalized by future generations.

http://www.economist.com/science/displaystory.cfm?story_id=13176775

The rise of online social networks, with their troves of data, might shed some light on these matters. So The Economist asked Cameron Marlow, the “in-house sociologist” at Facebook, to crunch some numbers. Dr Marlow found that the average number of “friends” in a Facebook network is 120, consistent with Dr Dunbar’s hypothesis, and that women tend to have somewhat more than men. But the range is large, and some people have networks numbering more than 500, so the hypothesis cannot yet be regarded as proven.

What also struck Dr Marlow, however, was that the number of people on an individual’s friend list with whom he (or she) frequently interacts is remarkably small and stable. The more “active” or intimate the interaction, the smaller and more stable the group.

Thus an average man—one with 120 friends—generally responds to the postings of only seven of those friends by leaving comments on the posting individual’s photos, status messages or “wall”. An average woman is slightly more sociable, responding to ten. When it comes to two-way communication such as e-mails or chats, the average man interacts with only four people and the average woman with six. Among those Facebook users with 500 friends, these numbers are somewhat higher, but not hugely so. Men leave comments for 17 friends, women for 26. Men communicate with ten, women with 16.

What mainly goes up, therefore, is not the core network but the number of casual contacts that people track more passively. This corroborates Dr Marsden’s ideas about core networks, since even those Facebook users with the most friends communicate only with a relatively small number of them.

Put differently, people who are members of online social networks are not so much “networking” as they are “broadcasting their lives to an outer tier of acquaintances who aren’t necessarily inside the Dunbar circle,” says Lee Rainie, the director of the Pew Internet & American Life Project, a polling organisation. Humans may be advertising themselves more efficiently. But they still have the same small circles of intimacy as ever.

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I simply approve every request. You can always delete them later. And you might be missing out on something very interesting that someone will one day post. I mean, just look at their info, and posts, and see if they seem genuine, and if they share some interests in common with you. If one feels that no one can be trusted, then the Internet is not the place to be.

Besides, in my situation, everyone who is an alumnus of St. John’s Annapolis or Santa Fe Great Books program automatically shares something in common with me. How will you ever meet new and interesting people if you never trust anyone. Is it not the case that all of your friends were, at one point, a stranger that you got to know. I am a stranger to 6 billion people on the planet, but that does not make me strange. And a large percentage of violent crimes are perpetrated by relatives or acquaintances.

I have been on the Internet non stop since 1998, and talked to everyone. An online friend from Univ. of Oulu, Finland, came with his 11 yr. old son and stayed at my apartment for a few days, to save on hotel costs. I went to Tampa, FL once and had dinner with 3 yahoo chat acquaintances. An AOL friend from Great Britain spent the day with me while visiting NY. And I am guessing that about 50,000 people over the past 10 years have read my blogs on philosophy, religion, poetry, etc. I have never regretted giving everyone a chance.

What would Jesus have done? The Samaritan women at the well, the adulteress, about to be stoned, Zaccheus the tax collector, the Ethiopian eunuch in his chariot, reading Isaiah, Apostles Andrew and Nathaniel…. they were ALL TOTAL STRANGERS. America amazes me, because we pay such lip service to Christianity, and demand that our presidential candidates take Jesus as their personal savior, but what do we choose to do in daily life. Don’t get me wrong. I am Hindu and Buddhist in my personal beliefs. Gandhi rejected Christianity as his personal religion, but the beatitudes of the sermon on the mount were his favorite. Kurt Vonnegut wryly observed that Americans clamor to erect monuments to Moses’ ten commandments, but no one thinks to have a plaque for the beatitudes.

And the Torah and Talmud say to welcome the stranger, so don’t any of you weasel out of this by saying you are Jewish.

Dennis the Menace asked someone “are you a stranger”. The old man replied “No, I lived her all my life.” Dennis said “Good, cause my Mom says not to talk to strangers.

It’s like the Lotto ad says, “You can’t win if you don’t play.”

One of my tutor’s at St. John’s, Mr. Main, I think, said in seminar “you can’t have too much money or too much whiskey.” I guess I would add to that sentiment that you can’t have too many friends (though you can have too many enemies). Lincoln said “If I make my enemy into my friend, then have I not destroyed my enemy?”

My practice for years is to pick up a book at random, a book I might not otherwise read, open it and read a page at random, and try to understand something from that page.

People on Facebook and Myspace are like books. I randomly look at what some of the 300 people on my list are saying, and I am glimpsing into the soul and life and heart of that person. They mention something entirely new to me. I look at something in a way that I have never seen before. I Google and read some. I reflect, react and post. Others randomly read my thoughts.

These activities are very enriching. Even a fool has something to teach a wise man.

Where would philosophy be today, if Socrates had said to The Eleatic Stranger, “Oh, sorry, I can’t talk to you ’cause you’re a stranger.”

Somewhere in the Talmud it is observed that “when a great king stamps out coins with his image on them, each coin is the same, but when God creates people in His image, each and every one is different.” Now, YOU are a stranger to all the people who might possibly add YOU. Do you feel they should FEAR you?

No, of course not. And you know that you are totally unique. There has NEVER been another person just like YOU, and there never shall be. And you have much to offer others.

Aristotle said, “A friend is another I.” Well, consider the reflexivity of this I-Thou relationship. As we esteem others, so, in a labyrinthine fashion, we come to esteem ourselves.

There is a saying in India, “When a saint meets a sinner, all he sees is saintliness, but when a sinner meets a saint, all he sees is sin.”

Also, “when a pickpocket meets a saint, all he sees are pockets.”

+++++
With the Internet, we can tap into each others stream of consciousness and with search engines we can explore anything in considerable depth in as little as an hour (because we are reading peoples recollections of digests of summaries, which may sound superficial but can really be quite deep.) This is why, when I add 20 friends a day and several of them ask if they know me, I think to myself “they really don’t GET it… you WANT to add people you DON’T know, to expand your mind.. what will you gain if your status about eating an apple or having irregularity is read by your grade school buddy across town and your cousin that you visit on Thanksgiving?

+++++
Are Internet Relationships Real?

The acting is good, except I am no qualified judge of acting other than to know what I like. I have found a few good friends on the Internet over the past 10 years. I have met several Internet contacts in person over the years. Geetanjali in Mangalore India is one of my best friends of all time. Ryan Thomas in Hawaii has spent hours talking with me in ustream. The Internet is as good or as bad as you want to make it. Stella is very kind to pay attention to me, even though we are at opposite extremes of political thought. It is healthy for me to pay attention to the ideas and feelings of those who are very different from me. People can spend years going to dinner, movies, bowling, the beach, and never really get to know each other. On the Internet ALL YOU HAVE are words, ideas, feelings. That is why a lot of romance takes place. Women in particular value words and feelings, and males are often content with dinner and a movie. Yet people say that Internet friendships are not REAL.

I would say that Internet friendships can be MORE REAL than personal acquaintanceships.

Hey, I just realized that the word SHIP is in acquaintanceSHIP. Suddenly, the lyrics of “The Good Ship Lollipop” are running through my mind.

If there is any meaning at all in this life, it is the meaning that we find in OTHER’S lives, and the meaning that they find in our own life. In one of it’s forms, that meaning is called LITERATURE. When we feel like disparaging the phenomenon, we call it FICTION. Fiction is not REAL

What is real. When we sit in a coffeshop and gossip, is that real?

This Facebook is good for me because I can connect in some fashion with people who have attended St. John’s across the decades. I like to know what interests younger generations.

Let’s FACE the facts. If you really want to talk about the Iliad, or the Republic, where do you go?
++++++

http://heyitsrachel.com/live.html

Rachel is a bright, engaging student of website design in Texas.

She spoke passionately and at great length last night regarding the depth and significance of internet friendships formed with people that we have never met face to face.

I have had similar experiences to hers over the past 10 years.

I once visited the streaming website of a young woman who ran an internet business, and worked all day (fully clothed of course) from her bed, with her laptop. One could even hear her business conversations on the cell.

I asked her candidly why she chose to be on web-cam constantly. She had been a literature major in college, and she respected my interest in such things, so she answered me candidly. She explained that her WHOLE LIFE takes place in front of the keyboard, so web-cam and chat provides a way to socialize and make her day more human.

Certainly I have developed the closest possible relationship imaginable with Geetanjali over the past several years, which is in no way romantic, but totally based upon our common interests in religion, philosophy and literature.

Ryan-Thomas and I have become quite close in the past months, because we share a common interest in history and economy.

I can easily see how the phenomenon of virtual online friendships is growing more important and and increasingly accepted as the norm rather than as something bizarre.
+++++

My earliest note published in Facebook is dated Wednesday, October 1, 2008 at 2:07pm

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Whether Weather (a poem)

No Poem Today.
No rainbow.

Is that to say
Poem is rainbow?

No, for rainbow
Is not poem.
Rainbow is not me,
Arched in the sky
For all to see,
With a leprechaun promise of gold
And a God’s promise of mercy.

Most days are no poem,
No rainbow days.
With patience
We weather the whether,
The “to be or not to be”
Of clear sky
And blank page.

Differences of complexion

December 20, 2009 by William Buell

From a Facebook thread:

Sameem, what you have written regarding the value of disagreement and compromise is a profound observation. But, your point #2 confuses me. Does the phrase “brown guy” refer somehow to ethnicity, or is it some term that young people use (e.g. phat) which means something totally different from what it seems? I like to think that most people who are well educated are well beyond stereotypes of race or gender. Most of my relatives are brown in complexion. I have one long time friend in South India (Mangalore) who occasionally vents her frustrations in terms of “brownies” and “whiteys” and her bitterness over the bygone era of British colonialism. I understand why she must be obsessed with these resentments, but I always feel uncomfortable with such sentiments, and basically pretend that I didn’t notice what she said. I realize that I am a shade of pink, and male, while she is a shade of brown and female, but our blood is red and our brains are gray matter.