A tiny LZ in city park. Trecherous 45-knot winds. Blowing debris and embers. And still, this guy lands on a dime, takes on fuel, takes on water, and heads off to make water drops on the fire less than two miles from this spot. We sat and watched this scene at Ventura Community Park for probably half an hour. Two helicopters were bombing the fire in this division area, each making a drop every five minutes.
There was not a single firefighter on the lines of the Thomas fire without gigantic cojones, especially on this first morning when it felt like absolutely nothing could stop this hell-beast from burning the entire county, or the state. But the people with the biggest ones of all were the men and women making air drops from helicopters in conditions that kept fixed-wing bombers on the ground.
When one digs down into Uber and Airbnb, one is provoked to ask whether it might be past time to take a good hard look at the entire “shared economy,” sector by sector, and ask whether it might not be so much bunk.
Or, at the very least, a means by which to impoverish tens of thousands of people and strip them of their social safety nets, all in order to enrich an fortunate few.
Say what you wish about British colonialism. Britain birthed and nurtured Hong Kong. Beijing seeks to kill it with a thousand cuts.
As an American I hate so much of what the Confederacy stood for: racism, division, greed, narcissism, reactionary politics, and the implicit belief that a good nation could rise on the flesh and bones of people in fetters.
Yet the misguided attempt to wipe from the face of the earth any memorial to the Americans who died in that conflict offends me as an historian.
We should never forget, nor allow our children to forget, that good, well-intentioned people die in the name of bad causes, and that it is not their cause that needs to be remembered, but the hubris that led them to the slaughter.
The problem lies not in statues or monuments, but in the way we use history and memories to teach.
A great problem with too many of us is that, subconsciously or otherwise, we bought into this idea that the tectonic political changes of 1989 had brought about a world where the rules had changed. This is the essence of Francis Fukuyama’s treatise “The End of History,” but the problem went even further. We began to believe that the normal rules that applied to business, to markets, and to nations no longer applied.
In the end, we will find that history does not end, even if sometimes it seems to take a sabbatical. Despite a flirtation with the contrary, the past decade has proven that the world is not on a path to liberal democracy and global markets: Russia is still the rapacious yet insecure bear; that China is still the nation and culture of Confucius, Mencius, Sunzi, and Mao; that businesses must still make money; nationalism still trumps globalism; and that markets cannot soar forever purely based on exuberance and a near-term lack of better investment alternatives.
History is back, and if you don’t watch out, it will maul you. It’s a great time to be an historian.
As a teenager, I was a huge fan of General George S. Patton, Jr. I saw him as a tactical genius, a straight-talker, and a fellow Californian. He was a lot of what I wanted to be at sixteen.
Time and deeper study have toned admiration down to appreciation. Patton was an anachronism, albeit a useful one.
There are days when I read about another careerist undermining the service for the sake of his own reputation that I wonder if we need a little less ticket-punching and a lot more talented non-conformity.
Happy 120th Birthday, Georgie.