…because the awful truth is that democracy dies not in darkness but in broad daylight, before our very eyes.

Three separate, cross-pressured but overlapping points to put a pin in (listed in, I think, increasing neglect and significance):

1. As Morten Høi Jensen emphasizes in the piece above, it was happening, in broad daylight, despite the fact that very bright and attentive people thought it “couldn’t or wouldn’t happen here.”

2. It didn’t have to happen. This doesn’t seem to be Jensen’s point, or at least not the one he stresses, but it’s in the piece. It was not inevitable. (Meacham’s Lincoln is excellent on this point, something I tried to say here, and that I need reminding of.)

3. Not everything can or should be reduced to its place in a chain of events. Maybe you have the power to change something, maybe you don’t. But life can be lived well and joyfully regardless of what happens next. This is the here-and-now of what Buechner called the untouchable “having-beenness” of time. As Thomas Mann himself put it:

   Even stories with a sorry ending have their moments of glory, great and small, and it is proper to view these moments, not in the light of their ending, but in their own light: their reality is no less powerful than the reality of their ending.

Eve Tushnet makes me want to read William Dalrymple’s From the Holy Mountain.

And she also makes me want to subscribe to Conor McDonough’s The White Stone.

Wendell Berry:

How many deaths of other people’s children by bombing or starvation are we willing to accept in order that we may be free, affluent, and (supposedly) at peace?

“While the United States saved modest sums by allowing little girls to starve, it escalated the Biden bombing campaign in Yemen, striking targets almost every day.”

Kitchen Chalk Talk

Mary Harrington:

This all happens within a schizophrenic culture that simultaneously celebrates every product and innovation that makes something easier and lower-effort, while also celebrating effort and self-discipline — and, at the same time, ignoring millennia of wisdom on how ascetic practice actually works and pretending it’s just a matter of individual choice and volition:Now, as the tide of internet slop rises around us, it should already be clear that this industrialisation of thought is making us as cognitively sedentary, as cars and labour-saving machines made us physically so. Accordingly, cognitive fitness is on track to become as much an ascetic practice as staying fit in culture of couch potatoes. Now, if we’re going to talk about cultivating the kind of physical and cognitive askesis required to avoid becoming physically and mentally flabby in this context, that means reckoning with the noonday demon. And that means reckoning with technology of acedia that is to cognitive askesis as smoking is to the physical kind: our phones.[…]

Perhaps there’s scope for careful engagement. But it should be clear that there are also whole industries out there today, whose sole aim is getting rich by feeding and legitimising your noonday demon, and making it difficult for you to sustain the self-discipline needed to flourish. And sure, there is a certain amount we can do as individuals to resist: the cheery self-help post. But I think this is a collective action problem, too, which is to say a moral one. We should take the whispering noonday demon — and those who profit from it — a great deal more seriously than we do.

Lasch via Miller via Hummel:

These people have sold the rest of us on their way of life, but it is their way of life, first and foremost, and it reflects their values, their rootless existence, their craving for novelty and contempt for the past, their confusion of reality with electronically mediated images of reality.

Daniel Hummel’s essay on the humanism of Jimmy Carter and Christopher Lasch is an excellent and important one.

It’s not the first time Sudan’s had a genocide. It’s not the first time Sudan’s had a famine. It’s not the first time Sudan’s had a civil war in the last 10 years, 20 years, 30 years,” he said. “As bad as it is—and it’s never been this bad in Sudan’s history—it feels like history is repeating itself.

Honestly, I know it’s not a straightforward story, but the fact that The Dispatch can do write-ups like this on Sudan and not even mention the history of Chevron oil or U.S. and Russian involvement is deeply saddening.

Someday he’s gonna owe this mama a lanyard.