The First Lesson of US History

Did we have to attain higher education than kindergarten to learn the first lesson of US History?

The first lesson of US History comes by way of the classic 1966 movie, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, starring Clint Eastwood, among others, in one of his early, featured roles.

The setting is the state of Texas, during the Civil War early 1860s.  Texas, as some may recall, was a slave state in the fledgling Confederate States of America.  For the better part of the movie, Clint Eastwood (the “Good”) and Tuco, his Mexican counterpart (the “Ugly”, played by Eli Wallach),  engage in a systematic series of Western, small town robberies.

The script did not deviate from the following.  Tuco would get himself arrested for the commission of a serious capital offense, which called for his hanging in the public square.  Customarily, the town residents would come out to witness the hanging.  While the noose was being prepared, and the prisoner brought forth, Eastwood would rob all of the vacant homes.  Just before the noose would tighten, Eastwood would appear on horseback.  With his excellent aim, he would shoot through the rope from a distance, freeing Tuco.  Simultaneously, Eastwood would ride through the square, displaying perfect timing to snatch him up and ride off.  The two would repeat the sequence in the next town.

Although very different and caring little for the welfare of the other, each is compelled to keep the other alive, because each has half a secret.  Together, they know that a large stash of money, containing exactly 8 bags of gold, is buried in a cemetery.  Eastwood knows the name of the grave under which the stash is buried, and Tuco knows the name of the cemetery.  But, neither knows the other’s secret.  Lacking a corresponding bond of trust, each guards his half of the secret with his life.  A third player, a corrupt Union Army officer (the “Bad”, played by Lee Van Cleef), sheds his military uniform for civilian clothes and secretly follows the two for what he hopes will be his own private payoff.

Toward the movie’s climax, Tuco finally gives up his share of the secret, reluctantly disclosing the name of the cemetery.  The three then come together at the cemetery circle, near the grave site where the gold is buried.  But since Eastwood will not voluntarily divulge the name on the grave, they engage in a final stand off.  After some tense moments that seem like hours, Eastwood draws first, killing Van Cleef (the “Bad”).  Eastwood then admits to Tuco that he had secretly removed the bullets from Tuco’s gun the previous night, which had rendered harmless Tuco’s stand off threat.

Viewers are left with the “Good” and the “Ugly”.  With a loaded gun, the entire loot at his disposal and Tuco absent any weapon and defenseless, Eastwood now faces a moral dilemma.  Does he take all the gold, and run?  In the process, what does he do with Tuco?  Kill him?  Wound him?  If he allows Tuco to live, does he leave Tuco his full share?  Or, does he leave just a portion, in Eastwood’s sole but arbitrary discretion?

It is an interesting dilemma, not vastly different from the one which faced the early Old World European settler to the continent of North America, upon facing his brethren, the American Indian.

In the end, Eastwood rides off into the sunset, with his own 4 bags of gold securely mounted to his saddle bags.  He leaves Tuco stranded and thirsty in the sweltering Texas sun, without a horse, and with a difficult situation in which to make his way back to civilization.  But, importantly, Eastwood leaves Tuco with his entire share, fully 4 gold bags.  For, when one thinks about it, how much of the gold do any of us really need?

The New World was a land of plenty, so called, but its historical relationship with the native American Indian culture was marked by contact, conquest and catastrophe, the three “C’s”.  Simple contact was the predominant destructive force.  The Old World germs to which the settler had become immune effectively wiped out 90% of the indigenous Indian population, whose systems were not similarly protected.  Second was the idea of forced “removal” of the Indians from their lands.  And, of course, there were mass killings.  But, this was the side show.

We all learned the first lesson of US History by the time of kindergarten.  There is more than enough to go around.  The lesson, of course, is to share.

-Michael D’Angelo

A Speckled Ax Was Best

The analysis of our imperfect human behavior tends to be perplexing and sobering, yet predictable nonetheless.  Are there other recurring patterns, both good and bad, which can be readily identified and typed?

Among Ben Franklin’s many varied endeavors included a fascinating attempt to arrive at moral perfection.  In his reading, he had enumerated and catalogued 13 moral virtues.  Arranged in order of importance, the previous acquisition of some perhaps facilitating the acquisition of others, they were as follows:

1.       TEMPERANCE.

Eat not to Dullness.

Drink not to Elevation.

2.       SILENCE.

Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself.

3.       ORDER.

Let all Things have their Places.  Let each Part of your Business have its Time.

4.       RESOLUTION.

Resolve to perform what you ought.  Perform without fail what you resolve.

5.       FRUGALITY.

Make no Expense but to do good to others or yourself:  i.e., Waste nothing.

6.       INDUSTRY.

Lose not time.  --  Be always employ’d in something useful.  --  Cut off all unnecessary actions.

7.       SINCERITY.

Use no hurtful deceit.

8.       JUSTICE.

Wrong none, by doing Injuries or omitting the Benefits that are your Duty.

9.       MODERATION.

Avoid Extreams.  Forbear resenting Injuries so much as you think they deserve.

10.    CLEANLINESS.

Tolerate no Uncleanness in Body, Cloaths or Habitation.

11.    TRANQUILITY.

Be not disturbed at Trifles, or at Accidents common or unavoidable.

12.    CHASTITY.

Rarely use Venery but for Health or Offspring; Never to Dullness, Weakness, or the Injury of your own or another’s Peace or Reputation.

13.    HUMILITY.

Imitate Jesus and Socrates.

Franklin’s intention was to attempt, systematically, a plan for self-examination, seeking somewhat ambitiously to acquire all the virtues at once.  But he quickly judged that this would be an impractical distraction.  So, he lowered the bar, beginning to focus his attention on just one virtue at a time, in the arranged order.  When the first had been mastered, he would proceed to another, until he had successfully gone through all 13.  He allotted 1 week to each venture, and consequently he could complete a full course in 13 weeks, and 4 courses in a year.

He continued the plan for some time, with occasional intermissions, achieving satisfaction in seeing his faults diminish.  But, he was also alarmed to some degree in learning that he found himself so much fuller of faults than he had imagined.  Business, travel and a multiplicity of affairs also interfered, however, stretching a single 13 week course to a full year, or longer.  Strength and progress in one virtue would cause a relapse in another, vexing him to consider giving up the attempt altogether.

In the end, he found that his undertaking was akin to a likeness of a man, who brings his ax to the grind stone to be sharpened.  As the wheel ground on, the ax had become speckled, that is, very sharp and shiny at one turn, yet a bit duller nor as bright at another.  No matter how much the wheel ground on, and the ax turned to a point of physical fatigue, the speckled ax still looked the same.  He concluded that although he had fallen short, he was better and happier than had he not attempted it, and contented that perhaps a speckled ax was best.

-Michael D’Angelo