Evans Liberal Politics, May 10, 2012, by Paul Evans – A PERSONAL NOTE:
My Father, Dr. Jack E. Evans, passed away Thursday morning, May 3rd, 2012. He was 87 years old, and had lived the last two-and-a-half years in Westview Manor nursing home here in Wooster. He died from old age, complicated by pneumonia and a blood infection both of which resisted treatment by four different antibiotics.
Jack and I had been best friends for several decades. His only fault was that he was too kind to me and did not ask enough of me; he was kind and gentle, although very much an old marine, and he and I shared the yard work on our four acres, and often shared intellectual pursuits. In the nineties, Jack translated eleven books from Russian and Ukrainian and I served as the editor for those books. Dad, I can’t thank you enough, ever, for being such a great dad and a close friend to me.
Jack had his funeral on May 8, 2012, and this is for him. Here is the obituary I wrote for you, Dad, fleshed out with a little more material, in case anyone might be interested:
May 4, 2012
Wooster – Jack E. Evans, 87, 1715 Mechanicsburg Road, passed away Thursday morning, May 3rd, after a short illness.
Private services will take place at the convenience of the family. Custer-Glenn Funeral Home, 2284 Benden Drive, Wooster, is assisting with arrangements.
In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to American Heart Association, 4916 Hills and Dales Rd., Canton 44708.
Jack was born February 28, 1925, in Washington, D.C., to Fannie Mae Evans and Solson E. Evans, and had been a resident of Wooster since 1971.
After serving in the Marine Corps in 1945 and 1946, he graduated in 1946 with a B.S. degree from Villanova University. He also received an M.A. in Russian history from Georgetown and a Ph.D. from Yale University, in 1971.
Jack served his country after WWII, with short employment in ASA (Army Security Agency), and NSA and for a longer time with CIA, until 1961. After receiving his degree from Yale, he taught at several colleges and universities in five states, the last college of which was the College of Wooster, where he and his family moved in 1971.
Jack and his wife Eleanor, who died on February 8, 2007, had been married for 60 years. They were married on December 27, 1946. Jack and Eleanor had two children, and are survived by his son, Paul E. Evans. His daughter Katharine K. Evans, DVM, died on October 8, 2004.
He was at the same time an intellectual man, yet fully down to earth and got along with anyone he met. He was a kind and good father to his two children, and will never be forgotten.
If you look at the top of the sidebar here at Evans Liberal Politics, I have kept a motto there, actually the motto of Borkum Riff pipe tobacco, thus: “Verus amicus est tamquam alter idem,” which is Latin and means “A true friend is like another me.” Jack has always inspired my behavior in certain directions, and despite my limitations because of mental illness, he watched with joy as I edited a twelfth book, had a magazine article published, and started work on this website. I love you, Dad.
As For Myself: A full confession of sorts is something I have almost never seen on the net by someone who is a public person, and whose website/blog at least once amounted to something. I think this article is a good thing for me to do, nonetheless. Actually the article is not fully a confession of my inadequacies but is also an explanation of the person I am and why I am that way. I do know that when I was editing a final version of this for publication, that made me happy and upbeat, in the way that most things do which are cathartic, at the end of the catharsis.
I have written here a lot of ideas about myself and why I am this way. However, the next paragraph, below, sums up the main ideas I am trying to say better perhaps than all my other writing efforts here:
I have fouled up my life in many ways. I have betrayed those who love me and depend on me in ways large and small, without even meaning to. I have not paid anywhere near enough attention to what my friends wanted from me (and for me), somehow assuming that they would automatically understand where I was coming from in many situations and conversations. I have sadly recognized that I did not listen to the council of my friends before my troubles really took off at the end of 2009. Being fiercely independent is fine, but you should still listen, very carefully, if someone is offering help or advice – and then proceed in the way you feel is best. Really, as thinking and feeling human beings, that is the best that anyone at all can do. But to those I have hurt in this life, or disappointed, and for the various ways I have fallen short, I confess it and am humbly sorry.
In late 2009 I had no symptoms of my mental illness and was taking only one dose of one medicine a day. I decided that I could stop taking that and work my way into being a completely normal person in society. I had been sick at heart at the way I was treated just because I had the label of “mentally ill” attached to me. It was a huge mistake to stop taking my medicine and it has cost me dearly.
I am awkward in interpersonal interactions: the art of conversation is to listen and then to respond to the other’s statement, NOT to get your own ideas across and certainly not as I have done, to habitually interrupt someone in a conversation. I’m trying at this late stage in my life to do a better job of listening.
And I was not even aware until very recently of the extent to which my personality and how I carry myself are abnormal due to mental illness. I hope, however, that my writings here do not reflect my mental illness much at all. I really, really hope not. Part of my illness is because I have not been able to handle the gifts and obligations which come with spiritual awareness. A larger part of the person I am today is because of how people and society treat the mentally ill and the very poor, and/or people with addiction problems: as pariahs and the lowest of the low.
Apparently most people in our society believe that they need not feel bad if they ignore one of our pleas for help. After all, we are only mentally ill persons, or very poor, or addicted to something, and might be somewhat tolerated, but for heaven’s sake, do realize, fellow pariahs, that we are not going to be treated as an equal. Almost never. And we just have to get used to being shunned, because that won’t ever go away, either. Believe me, it’s true.
The sadness of the stigmas of mental illness, poverty and addiction is that it ignores the reality of who that person is. Just to have one of those labels attached to you means that almost none of your old friends will want to have anything to do with you, and neither does the public in the real world. I am poor enough that I have had to beg for gas at certain gas stations. There is nothing, including most likely death itself, that I hate more than begging. However, so long as life offers the small pleasures of everyday life to me, death is something I tend to avoid paying attention to, even though, somehow, I am 55 years old. The fact remains: if I am going to drive my car, I need to put gas in it, and by the second half of the month, there is no money left for that. I have given up on asking almost all of my old friends for help. Once in a while I will call on some old friends for help, but most of those phone calls are depressing, and probably for both parties. Actually, there is a lot less hassle and there are better results just begging from strangers.
There are three friends of longstanding who helps us with overwhelming kindness and devotion to us as their neighbor: as it says, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Thank you from the bottom of my heart: (you know who you are). Moreover, there are a few other friends who help from time to time: I cannot thank you enough!
Personally, I can only ask for everyone’s forgiveness for my shortcomings, regardless of whether they are or are not my fault, and I hope and pray that a kind toleration of me might grow so that I don’t feel like a third class citizen or serf, whose friends have basically almost all deserted me. They did this, insofar as I can tell, basically because I made a lifestyle choice and helped a couple of people they do not approve of.
This is apparently a decision I must have made (my old friends must think), and continue, because, it must be believed, I lack any kind of good judgment, and almost am not responsible for my actions. Anyway, that seems to me to be the way my friends feel.
It seems notably odd to me that perfect strangers are nicer, are more interested in what I have to say, and are more accepting of me as an equal, than are those who know me well. Could I really be so hard to like, or is it mostly my circumstances….. And that is grounds to avoid me and to stop being my friends? Old friends, please remember also that I said “But to those I have hurt in this life, or disappointed, and for the various ways I have fallen short, I confess it and am humbly sorry.”
It hurts me terribly to have lost some of my friends. However I am mentally competent, no matter how strongly my friends try to convince me otherwise. I must continue to live my life as I think best.
To me, natural law and following Christ as he led his life are the foundations of how I must behave, NOT what is most “sensible,” or safest, or the best course for me alone. So that I start from that sort of a premise in making decisions. And also, what do my friends actually know about this really hard poverty I am in, or about addictions? I refuse to simply consider myself: there are also my housemates to consider, and I think that is where just about all of my friends and I part company. If any of the three of us living in this house go down, the others will too, and also we will be there to try to pick up the pieces. And I am not about to go back on that vow, regardless of anything.
I am ready to go down, or to fail, in any way God determines that I must. I will not turn my back on those whom I love. And how can my old friends judge the soundness of my mind: those mental health professionals I have consulted regularly say that my mind is quite sane, and believe me quite capable in my own thought processes.
There is no point in trying to make decisions for me, or to clue me in on my situation: I know how perilous it is, and I also know all the factors involved (although of course sometimes a friend or two may offer an extremely good insight that I had missed). I pray to God that he might make my way, and that of my housemates, and all of my old friends, too, less difficult to suffer through. I pray to God that my road will be made less perilous many times a day. So far, somehow, I am getting by in a barely satisfactory way, admittedly, only with the help of a few of my old friends, and a few new ones, also.
Another problem I have is that I don’t “come off” as genuinely friendly, as most people somehow see it. I am socially backward, and I am basically alone and in my own little world, almost all the time. I am way too logical, very high IQ but low EQ, and it really isn’t a normal thing for one man to own and operate a news and politics website. Because of that website, I neglected far too many other important aspects in my life.
Lately I have only been putting up a few new posts on Evans Liberal Politics in most weeks. Maybe it’s partly so that I can “get a life,” but of course, the fact that the phone company shut off my phone/internet has had a lot to do with the low frequency of my blog posts. ((But wait!! this morning the internet works: for me this is just about a miracle.))
Perhaps a big factor in the way people relate to me is that I have a permanent frown between and above my eyes. This is partly because of the concentration needed to write and edit articles, design and program the code for web pages, and yes, to edit, so far, twelve books. But maybe I frown as I do also because of my own personal experience of life and because of my suffering especially in recent years. I was in a place mentally that I didn’t like at all and it was unpleasant for me for even a few decades, thus the frowning. That seems to hold true even when I am happy and laughing: there are incised lines on my face which people seem to be leery of, and think of as abnormal.
Insofar as my own so-called suffering is concerned, while I have not gone hungry, I have in the past gone six or seven months without a car, this while living some six miles outside of Wooster in the country. They say that mental illness is a reflection of a chemical imbalance in our brains. But sometimes, regardless of how correct your brain chemistry is, life can basically be hard to take, or hard to handle, sometimes. And for me, as a website designer and book editor, and owner of Evans Liberal Politics, not having a phone and a high speed internet connection has been ((past tense!!)) exceptionally hard to take.
I have come to realize lately that my own spoken personality does not match my strong desire to be kind, loving and caring, in the same way Jesus led his life on earth. But it seems to me that when one is a meek individual and also mentally ill, people tend to walk all over you – just because they can, for either of those two reasons: meekness and being mentally ill. A few mental health officials I have consulted say that people walk all over people like me because they themselves have low self esteem, and need to build themselves up by tearing me down. I really don’t want to comment on that, except to say that I am sure, whatever other factors are involved, I know that most of my friends are just trying to get me to wake up to the reality facing me. I assure you, I am wide, wide awake, and very concerned indeed about my future. But thanks for caring enough to try to help me in whatever ways: Bless you for your help.
Yet I aspire to be a caring, loving and kind person. That is not how my few friends are interacting with me. It does seem to me that in our society, people do not value kindness and leading a fully caring life. I guess that most people realize that it isn’t a rewarding stance to take in life, and that determines their behavior. Does that mean what I think it means in terms of the health of our society? Because my friends seldom interact with me as towards a caring and competent individual, and especially not on any kind of level of equality.
People who really care about me – and I would say this includes at least three or four such friends – talk to me about “tough love,” yet I know very close to everything they are advising me about, and I am not stupid. The fact is, being the person I am, I know for a fact that such tough love does me more harm than good. I lived my whole life up until the time I was about 52 years old, and nobody in that time yelled at me for any reason. It just isn’t the right way to “wake me up” to the things I need to do in my life. It doesn’t work, for me at least. Maybe I am too old and too set in my ways, but I know that if I myself am ever trying to get through to someone, I approach the person in a very kind and caring way. Shouldn’t we all? I very strongly wish my friends would see that.
But maybe, according to the reality of our society, caring and kindness count for very little, what counts is all these interpersonal methods which I am learning so late in life, and also, being monetarily successful. I guess most of the time I am pretty zoned out, except that I have this gift for writing and editing; and logic and words, that stays with me, a calling if you will. It absolutely energizes me to set down “on paper” whatever message, or news or political story that I can republish or write myself.
I am afraid that I cannot conclude other than, to a large extent because there are large aspects of my life about which my friends do not approve, and so they have cut off their aid and even their friendship with me. (And you people call yourselves liberals?) You shouldn’t judge anyone anyway, but to not help someone for the stated reason that he is living his life wrongly …that is just wrong. Help or don’t help someone for some reason other than that, I beseech you. You have no business making value judgments about the way someone is living his/her life. “Judge not lest ye be judged, and in such a manner as you judge others, so God will judge you” – paraphrase from one of the Gospels.
My own independence in life is not the issue, the issue — the ONLY issue — should be simply whether you feel led by faith or logic to help someone who badly needs it, regardless of their circumstances, if you are well enough off to do so. I have never understood by what logic my old friends do not understand that; it is simple and straightforward. Anything added to that consideration seems secondary to the pure fact of my need, and my friends’ ability to help me out.
I believe that my own writing speaks well towards the sanity of my mind. Other than that, these “friends” want to put conditions on helping me, and I won’t go for that. A friend who is loving should just help any friends in his/her life who asks for help and is in need, and maybe you should even know who needs help without their asking. Sorry, if perhaps this got a little away from the main subject of my article, which should primarily deal with my own deficiencies, or at least attempt to explain them.
I wouldn’t have written about this sub-topic at all if I were not very hurt by old friends’ reaction to me, recently.
Part of my problems in life are side effects of my mental illness medications: they cause me to be “zoned out,” and seem to cause a delay sometimes of a few seconds in far too many of the conversations I have, and sometimes that comes off as me not paying attention. These medications are almost all harmful to the patient’s physical health, as well. The medications are very strong, and most all of them have bad side effects. Yet because I have a frown, and because of people’s fear of and shunning of the mentally ill, I am denied the very thing I need and crave — the caring company of others.
The Serenity Prayer as used in Alcoholics Anonymous programs, does provide me with some relief, and I have always thought they were good words to thoroughly really understand, thus the video, above. I’m 55 years old. No, I’m not an alcoholic nor into illegal drugs, although I am strongly addicted to cigarettes, and probably caffeine, as well.
My nervous system is pretty well shot and I have trouble learning new behaviors. I messed up in my life and they tell me it is not my fault, it is my mental illness. But sometimes it is frustrating beyond measure to have these limitations.
The worst about my illness is how people relate to me once they are aware that I am mentally ill. I have spoken about the fact that my friends just about all demand changed behaviors from me and really have tried to force me to make changes in my life. As to strangers, the majority of them treat mentally ill individuals as almost subhuman, as scum to be avoided, and feel that our minds have little to contribute to basically any endeavor. I guess I have especially labored in this way because in fact I do attempt a lot. Well, anyway, I hit the trifecta insofar as what strangers conclude about me: I often show evidence of my mental illness, I am very, very poor, AND I smoke cigarettes. I have asked for help in more than one church which refused me that help solely on the grounds that they weren’t about to help someone who smoked.
Another thing which actually frightens many strangers I meet is the simple fact that I am a very open individual. I have concluded that almost everyone judges other people anyway, and that I may as well be open in my thought processes and speech, since that is what is natural to me. If it frightens people, or repels people, I believe that to be their loss and not my problem (although, really, it is). I have become used to people shunning me and/or avoiding me, but although that is more their loss than mine, I am kind and sensitive and, still, it does hurt.
But I can’t help being who I am.
Yet the fact remains also, that I am socially quite awkward and interpersonally rather dense and slow to learn. Sometimes I have thought that perhaps I am actually somewhat autistic, and not so much otherwise mentally ill. (At the same time, I know in my heart that this cannot be so, that in fact I have a valid diagnosis as “schizo-affective.” I suppose my own strong desire to be no longer mentally ill just must be wishful thinking. But ask yourself: does it show in my writing?)
I can truthfully say I used to feel something like “Pride in the Name of Love” and that was why I ran Evans Liberal Politics. Now I feel much more humble than prideful, and I want to admit to you that, since I reach only a small audience, and make de facto zero dollars from this blog, I basically blog because I don’t know any other way to be, how I could possibly live my life any differently.
You know, a whole lot of people I know keep telling me that my blog is just playing around, or is an addiction, or that I am obsessed with it. The plain fact is, however, that this is what I enjoy doing more than anything else. Well, there are a lot of bloggers who spend a whole lot of their time on their websites. I guess then, there must be a whole lot of addicted, obsessed people: but what would their reactions be if, instead, I were making a lot of money with Evans Liberal Politics? And why does everyone have to make value judgments for me about what is the right way for me to spend my time? Why does everyone I know keep trying to run my life?
Why does everyone know better than I do how I should run my own life? I’ll just straight up tell you: from my experience, people treat me as they do based upon the fact that they know that I am mentally ill, and have concluded that my own thought processes are therefor invalid or wrong, especially if they are aware of some of my difficulties. It’s because I have that label attached to me: mentally ill. Plus very poor, plus I am addicted to smoking and they disapprove of that. It’s because people do not assess people based upon who the person is, but rather, upon what labels are attached to the person.
(Excuse me, I guess that reasoning wasn’t valid either. I always wonder what happened with my old Unitarian-Universalist friends about “the inherent worth and dignity of all humans” — their first principle. It hurts because, ultimately, all these people judging me take away my dignity: that is what it feels like when people try to run my life. That is how I feel then: stripped of whatever dignity I have left.)
I work hard on my website often because my stated goal of influencing even a few minds towards the building of a more caring society keeps me trying. I do refuse to stop trying. I really need some help to run this website and find or write articles for it, yet nobody seems to want to do that, either.
I have two young housemates who live with me in my Dad’s home, now. Dad passed away on the morning of May 3rd, 2012. (I keep thinking: I should get over to the nursing home, or else call Dad and say good morning… alas. I guess it’s just me now – I have no other close relatives whatsoever. My two housemates take up a lot of my time and efforts, but I love them as if I were their father, while often they refer to me as their crazy old uncle. Even so, while I admit to an unreasonable amount of time spent blogging and wish for changes in my life, thanks to my two housemates I have a lot of other things which are important to me in living my life. I still enjoy blogging and also I am grateful for the small enjoyments that come my way every day.
Also, I am peace loving and hate violence and conflict to the extent that, perhaps I would not defend my loved ones, much less myself, in the event I needed to. This, too, seems to invite almost everyone to walk all over me. I am a meek person who somehow has a strong online persona, in matters such as this website. But I have felt my meekness to almost be cowardice, a few times. Hopefully my writing on Evans Liberal Politics doesn’t evidence that meekness at all and at least sometimes I may be able to get a strong message across to my readers. I really don’t know; I just hate all forms of violence and conflict. This is a sort of overall confession, I realize. I am so very tired of my inadequacies.
In my own defense I want to quote an article I wrote back on April 5th, 2011, called “What Gets Me About Spam Commenters and a Warning for Them: A Rant,” where I state that “the entire message of Evans Liberal Politics is about CARING and building a more caring society and I put all the work I do into our site mostly in order to get that message out.” No matter what I have said above, that’s still very true.
At one time I put my heart and soul into Evans Liberal Politics. I would put up seven to ten articles a day, and coding that and putting in photos/images, music and videos took almost all of my waking time and even had me running very short on sleep. In doing so, I neglected my own heath, eventually abandoned having any kind of a social life, and even didn’t do the job that I should have taking care of my elderly father, may God forgive me. (I did give Dad three meals a day, did the dishes, did the laundry, etc., but I failed to pay any attention almost whatsoever to his special dietary needs as a diabetic person. He mainly sat watching TV, and I was not the friend to him I should have been, keeping him company while he was watching TV, either. And it is too late to change that.)
Would you say a prayer for my Dad, Jack E. Evans? I would give up everything left that I still own, including my computer and my two websites, if only I could talk with him as he was ten years ago, for a few days. I miss Dad terribly, already.
Politics is depressing. In that regard, my old friend Betsy sent me a wonderful article which I want to share with you, called “Across the Universe: The Power of Disillusionment and the Politics of Despair, OpEdNews, March 15, 2011, by Chris Floyd. A young man is disillusioned, somewhat depressed, and even contemplating drinking or suicide because his Mom’s hero Barack Obama is complicit in so much that is wrong. Instead of simply making a comment of some encouragement, Chris Floyd makes this commentary in its own article, of which I wish to quote part:
You have to remember that politics is a toxin. It will make you sick, taint your mind, poison your soul, blight your life if you let it. One has to deal with politics as a form of waste management, just as you need to have some kind of sewage system in your home or community to prevent disease.
Politics — the machinations of the stunted, damaged souls and third-rate minds who hanker for power — is just a small part of life. It entirely lacks the tragic element; (and there is) nothing tragic or depthful about politics and power, it’s just brute force, greed, ignorance and spite. So there is no deep meaning to be found in it. No tragedy; no real joy either. Even the greatest moments, the epiphanies — and they do happen in politics on rare occasions, one must admit — will lead very quickly back into the sewage. And that’s OK, that’s the way it is; sewage, waste management — it’s part of life. But it’s not where meaning, joy, tragedy, the salt and savor of existence can be found. So why let the evil done by third-rate goobers drive you to despair of life itself? By hook, crook, lies and murder they’ve already amassed all kinds of power; why give them power over your very soul?
Comment by Paul Evans: While I mostly agree with the overall message Chris Floyd is trying to get across, I have to say that to me, as a news and politics website owner and one who has followed the news from about the age of 21, some of this dismissiveness towards politics is not warranted. No: Politics very much has a tragic element – as for example when poor people are not taken care of by the government, or their health is not taken care of by their government and they end up flooding the hospital emergency rooms. (I could go on.) While I agree that politics is mostly just “brute force, greed, ignorance and spite,” it very definitely has a tragic element, and also the people who are forcing changes upon us are by no means “third-rate goobers” at the national level; they are all too shrewd and effective to ever be categorized as that.
Here is my favorite quote on politics: “I have the audacity to believe that people everywhere can have: three meals a day for their bodies, – education and culture for their minds – and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits.” — Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. — And that’s why I am a liberal. ~ Paul Evans (From my page of Liberal Speeches & Quotes).
