Only one United State President hailed from Pennsylvania. Since President James Buchanan (1791-1868) sometimes is classed as the worst of all incumbents of the office, historically-minded Pennsylvanians often prefer not to pay much attention to him.
Still, many states have not had even ONE President--so let us get to know the one we have. I will be posting more about him later, and then readers can make up their own minds as to where he stands historically.
A lawyer and a graduate of Dickinson College, Buchanan should have been among the best prepared Presidents in our history. In the course of his career he was a member of the Pennsylvania State Legislature, the U.S. House of Representatives, and the U.S. Senate. He also served as U.S. minister (diplomatic representative) to Russia and to Great Britain, and U.S. Secretary of State.
That's quite a resume. But it wasn't enough to enable him to cope with the tragic Civil War which was looming over the nation when he was in the White House. He lived through the whole thing, and most of us can only wonder what he thought about it as it unwound. Perhaps he left letters that only professional historians know about. If I find that to be true, I'll be sure to post about it.
Buchanan's Pennsylvania life was lived in a small area of the south central part of the state. If you are interested, you can visit several Buchanan sites within a reasonably small area.
The first of these is the site of his birthplace, the 18-plus acre Buchanan Birthplace State Park at Cove Gap. This has a small stone pyramid on the site of the future President's natal log cabin, and opportunities for camping and fishing. Nearby Cove Gap State Park is much larger, with cabins, camp grounds, and more extensive recreational opportunities.
(But I don't want to write much about the state parks just now. As I post this their future seems to be on the chopping block for financial reasons. As I learn more about the situation I'll post the information, together with what, if anything, we can do to help.)
To return to the subject of this post, President Buchanan: I am told that the actual log cabin, so conspicuously missing from the site of his birthplace, is on the grounds of Mercersburg Academy, the distinguished preparatory school in nearby Mercersburg.
At the heart of Buchanan's life, though, was his stately home, Wheatland, located at 230 North President Avenue, Lancaster, PA 17603. The handsome Federal-style house is kept up and administered by Lancaster County's Historical Society, online at LancasterHistory.org, and visitors are welcome.
Special events coming up in the next few months include, on Saturday, July 17, from 1 to 3 p.m., A Day In the Life Of Harriet Lane: First Lady and Philanthropist, celebrating Buchanan's gifted niece, who served as his White House hostess; and, on Saturday, August 28 and Saturday, September 11, from1 to 3 p.m. both days, Life Below Stairs: The Servant's Tour, a look at the lives of Wheatland's servants.
For more information on these or other events, call Wheatland at (717) 392-8721; or call Lancaster County's Historical Society at (717) 392-4633.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
So--Who WAS Julius Caesar, Anyway?
A friend of mine told me he had recently had a battle with another friend, a man who happens to be an admirer of that well-known Roman, Julius Caesar.
L. definitely is not. Being reminded of this fact, I said he could have a battle with me, too, if he chose. Caesar was one of my earliest intellectual interests, and remains so.
Why? Good question. I first met the man through the Shakespeare play named for him. There, he is depicted as a kind of political boss who has lost his grip. And I was sure, from the beginning, that this was part of the truth. But only part. How many political has-beens--if that is all they are--have their names ring down through the ages?
I think it is the complexity of Caesar's character, the many facets of it that have come down to us, that makes him so challenging to us even today.
He was not a nice person, to begin with. He did not live in a nice era, which helps to explain it. He was a relative of the popular Roman leader Marius-whose enemy, Sulla, plotted against the young Caesar's life almost from the time he was born. Having to keep your back to the wall at all times is not a prescription for an open, sunny personality.
Caesar also had as a contemporary the Roman general who crucified five thousand of Spartacus's gladiators along the Appian Way, following the defeat of the rebels. They played for keeps in the Rome of that day. For quite a while Caesar was good at playing for keeps, too, although the fate of the Ides of March caught up with him in the end.
It is important to note that Shakespeare never called Caesar "the noblest Roman of them all." As a writer, Shakespeare knew a flawed character when he saw one. He reserved the accolade of nobility for the pompous and nerdy Marcus Brutus--who, according to long-standing rumor, may also have been Caesar's son.
Maybe the really long-term influence exerted by Caesar has to do with ideas of his which were unorthodox in his time--some of which continue to shape our world. He was inquisitive, and he followed up on these ideas.
For example: Although the Caesar family was of ancient nobility, it was also down on its luck when young Julius came on the scene. Its home was in a poor section of Rome, right across from the city's only synagogue. Caesar inquired about this group of Jews, and became its protector. Somebody I have read recently--it may have been Tom Holland in "Rubicon"-- observes that the real sound of Rome following Caesar's assassination was not that of the howling mobs depicted by Shakespeare. It was of Jewish voices raised in lament for their friend.
Caesar's interest in the Jews shows a kind of broad and humane intelligence that I--and, I am sure, many other moderns--find appealing.
He also is credited with, in a sense, "inventing" Europe. Roman magistrates, leaving office, had come to be in the habit of leading military expeditions to eastern climes, to plunder and pillage them, enrich themselves, and (maybe) win a triumph when they returned to the capital.
Caesar instead turned to Gaul, toward the northwest, which through his efforts became an integral part of the Roman Empire--some would say the most important part during the early imperial days.
He and his men also were the first Romans to set foot in Britain, whose inhabitants--fed in part by distant historical memories, no doubt --one day would develop imperial aspirations of their own.
Who was your Julius Caesar? The sordid, power-grasping politician who lost his grip? The intellectually curious and often constructive visionary who helped shape our world of today?
Mine is both of these; and more--and less--besides.
L. definitely is not. Being reminded of this fact, I said he could have a battle with me, too, if he chose. Caesar was one of my earliest intellectual interests, and remains so.
Why? Good question. I first met the man through the Shakespeare play named for him. There, he is depicted as a kind of political boss who has lost his grip. And I was sure, from the beginning, that this was part of the truth. But only part. How many political has-beens--if that is all they are--have their names ring down through the ages?
I think it is the complexity of Caesar's character, the many facets of it that have come down to us, that makes him so challenging to us even today.
He was not a nice person, to begin with. He did not live in a nice era, which helps to explain it. He was a relative of the popular Roman leader Marius-whose enemy, Sulla, plotted against the young Caesar's life almost from the time he was born. Having to keep your back to the wall at all times is not a prescription for an open, sunny personality.
Caesar also had as a contemporary the Roman general who crucified five thousand of Spartacus's gladiators along the Appian Way, following the defeat of the rebels. They played for keeps in the Rome of that day. For quite a while Caesar was good at playing for keeps, too, although the fate of the Ides of March caught up with him in the end.
It is important to note that Shakespeare never called Caesar "the noblest Roman of them all." As a writer, Shakespeare knew a flawed character when he saw one. He reserved the accolade of nobility for the pompous and nerdy Marcus Brutus--who, according to long-standing rumor, may also have been Caesar's son.
Maybe the really long-term influence exerted by Caesar has to do with ideas of his which were unorthodox in his time--some of which continue to shape our world. He was inquisitive, and he followed up on these ideas.
For example: Although the Caesar family was of ancient nobility, it was also down on its luck when young Julius came on the scene. Its home was in a poor section of Rome, right across from the city's only synagogue. Caesar inquired about this group of Jews, and became its protector. Somebody I have read recently--it may have been Tom Holland in "Rubicon"-- observes that the real sound of Rome following Caesar's assassination was not that of the howling mobs depicted by Shakespeare. It was of Jewish voices raised in lament for their friend.
Caesar's interest in the Jews shows a kind of broad and humane intelligence that I--and, I am sure, many other moderns--find appealing.
He also is credited with, in a sense, "inventing" Europe. Roman magistrates, leaving office, had come to be in the habit of leading military expeditions to eastern climes, to plunder and pillage them, enrich themselves, and (maybe) win a triumph when they returned to the capital.
Caesar instead turned to Gaul, toward the northwest, which through his efforts became an integral part of the Roman Empire--some would say the most important part during the early imperial days.
He and his men also were the first Romans to set foot in Britain, whose inhabitants--fed in part by distant historical memories, no doubt --one day would develop imperial aspirations of their own.
Who was your Julius Caesar? The sordid, power-grasping politician who lost his grip? The intellectually curious and often constructive visionary who helped shape our world of today?
Mine is both of these; and more--and less--besides.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Israel's Railroad: The Story Concluded
In my previous post I mentioned my long-ago adventure with Israel's railroad. I have also told of this adventure, I believe, in my recently-published book, "Jerusalem Journal". But until the past week or so I have known very little about the railroad or how it came to be. Only in the past few weeks have I learned more.
The source of my additional information is another writer, the brilliant H.V. Morton, of whose works I have become an avid fan. Decades ago Morton visited what was then the British-ruled Palestine Mandate, now (essentially) Israel and Jordan. The result was one of his best-known travel books, "In The Steps Of The Master."
By coincidence, Morton entered the Palestine Mandate from Egypt--by that one section of the railroad that, when I visited many years later, was closed. Several days after being rowed across the Suez Canal to the rail head, he seems to have de-trained in Jerusalem at about the same spot that I did.
His work filled me in on the railroad's historical background. It had been built by the troops of the British general Lord Allenby, and was part of Allenby's successful campaign to defeat the German-allied Turks and take Jerusalem. Once you know this, you can look at the map and its route makes perfect sense. It tied together British-held Egypt and two important seaports--Haifa in the north and Jaffa halfway down the Mediterranean coast toward Egypt. This made it very efficient for channeling troops and materiel, and--at Jaffa--angling it all off by rail through the Judaean hills toward Jerusalem. There the soldiers would get off the trains pretty much where Morton and I did--in our respective decades, of course.
I am glad to pass on this additional information about Israel railroads, in part because it gives me yet another opportunity to call attention to H.V. Morton's work. The man was an exquisite writer, and if you can't afford a vacation this year pick up and read one or more of his books. At least from my point of view, vicarious experience is much better than none. And Morton will bring you as close to the real thing as words ever can.
Don't just take my word. Here is a very brief excerpt from "In The Steps Of The Master":
"...the railway to Jerusalem...follows an ancient route. It runs over the ageless caravan road to and from Egypt...It was a road that led everywhere: to Damascus in the north, to the desert city of Petra in the east, to Egypt in the south...And I remembered again that this was the way Joseph and Mary fled with a Child into Egypt."
I wish I could offer more; but it isn't mine to offer. All I can do is suggest that you sample it for yourself.
The source of my additional information is another writer, the brilliant H.V. Morton, of whose works I have become an avid fan. Decades ago Morton visited what was then the British-ruled Palestine Mandate, now (essentially) Israel and Jordan. The result was one of his best-known travel books, "In The Steps Of The Master."
By coincidence, Morton entered the Palestine Mandate from Egypt--by that one section of the railroad that, when I visited many years later, was closed. Several days after being rowed across the Suez Canal to the rail head, he seems to have de-trained in Jerusalem at about the same spot that I did.
His work filled me in on the railroad's historical background. It had been built by the troops of the British general Lord Allenby, and was part of Allenby's successful campaign to defeat the German-allied Turks and take Jerusalem. Once you know this, you can look at the map and its route makes perfect sense. It tied together British-held Egypt and two important seaports--Haifa in the north and Jaffa halfway down the Mediterranean coast toward Egypt. This made it very efficient for channeling troops and materiel, and--at Jaffa--angling it all off by rail through the Judaean hills toward Jerusalem. There the soldiers would get off the trains pretty much where Morton and I did--in our respective decades, of course.
I am glad to pass on this additional information about Israel railroads, in part because it gives me yet another opportunity to call attention to H.V. Morton's work. The man was an exquisite writer, and if you can't afford a vacation this year pick up and read one or more of his books. At least from my point of view, vicarious experience is much better than none. And Morton will bring you as close to the real thing as words ever can.
Don't just take my word. Here is a very brief excerpt from "In The Steps Of The Master":
"...the railway to Jerusalem...follows an ancient route. It runs over the ageless caravan road to and from Egypt...It was a road that led everywhere: to Damascus in the north, to the desert city of Petra in the east, to Egypt in the south...And I remembered again that this was the way Joseph and Mary fled with a Child into Egypt."
I wish I could offer more; but it isn't mine to offer. All I can do is suggest that you sample it for yourself.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Travel Israel's Railways???
Does it come as a surprise to you to learn that a country as small as Israel even HAS railways? Well, I was once as surprised as you--especially since I am from a railroad family and came along at just about the end of the passenger railroad era. I did not, therefore, get to ride on trains much.To make up for the loss, I will jump on one whenever I can.
But I didn't know this was an option in Israel, until I was enlightened by a friend in Haifa. I had been there for a few days, interviewing Max and his wife Chava about Holocaust heroine Gisi Fleischmann, on whom I was writing a book.
As I was packing to return to Jerusalem, Max asked, "Why not take the train back?"
"Train!" I exclaimed, startled.
"Yes. It used to run from here all the way into Egypt. When the 1948 war ended we had hoped there would be peace, and we could once again go down there by train. But it never happened."
(Max was speaking years later, shortly after the Camp David Accord instituted a kind of cold peace between Israel and Egypt. That was in the late 70s, and I was in Israel about the time this agreement was being negotiated. But, as I've said, at the time of that trip I had no knowledge of the railroad. To this day do not know whether it has been reopened for its full length. I presume not, because the Camp David Accord never blossomed into a full peace. Egypt and Israel have remained in a state of not-war, which I suppose is better than war. But only slightly.
Anyway. I return to the point at which Max told me about the railroad from Haifa to Jerusalem. I quickly decided to "ride the rails" on this occasion, and the Livnis took me to the train station instead of the bus station.
I don't remember the locomotive, which any true fan of railroads would find reprehensible. But, despite the fact that I had relatives who drove first coal-driven, then diesel locomotives, my interest in trains has always been mostly in the places they connected and the people who rode them.
The passenger cars on this train I do remember--I remember them as clean, and narrow. The railroad may have been--and almost certainly was--an old-fashioned narrow gauge type, that had never been widened. There were only a few people aboard.
I traveled southward, gazing meditatively out on the Mediterranean Sea. After a short time, not more than an hour and a half or two if I recall, we arrived in what I thought was Tel Aviv. There we made some kind of connection. Did this involve changing trains, or just changing locomotives? It's too long ago to remember. All I know is that we were soon chugging through the Judaean Hills toward the city everyone calls Holy.
When we arrived at the Jerusalem station, I was pleased to realize that I was in my old neighborhood, so to speak, and could practically look into my own bedroom window. That was because the train came in very close to the famous Scottish Hospice (St. Andrew's) and to the British consulate. I had stayed at the Scottish Hospice on my previous trip, chronicled in my book "Jerusalem Journal". So I could gaze at the window and almost imagine myself waving back.
The origins and history of the little railroad have until recently been a puzzle to me; but I have recently learned more from another writer, far more famous than I. And that information I will share in my next post.
But I didn't know this was an option in Israel, until I was enlightened by a friend in Haifa. I had been there for a few days, interviewing Max and his wife Chava about Holocaust heroine Gisi Fleischmann, on whom I was writing a book.
As I was packing to return to Jerusalem, Max asked, "Why not take the train back?"
"Train!" I exclaimed, startled.
"Yes. It used to run from here all the way into Egypt. When the 1948 war ended we had hoped there would be peace, and we could once again go down there by train. But it never happened."
(Max was speaking years later, shortly after the Camp David Accord instituted a kind of cold peace between Israel and Egypt. That was in the late 70s, and I was in Israel about the time this agreement was being negotiated. But, as I've said, at the time of that trip I had no knowledge of the railroad. To this day do not know whether it has been reopened for its full length. I presume not, because the Camp David Accord never blossomed into a full peace. Egypt and Israel have remained in a state of not-war, which I suppose is better than war. But only slightly.
Anyway. I return to the point at which Max told me about the railroad from Haifa to Jerusalem. I quickly decided to "ride the rails" on this occasion, and the Livnis took me to the train station instead of the bus station.
I don't remember the locomotive, which any true fan of railroads would find reprehensible. But, despite the fact that I had relatives who drove first coal-driven, then diesel locomotives, my interest in trains has always been mostly in the places they connected and the people who rode them.
The passenger cars on this train I do remember--I remember them as clean, and narrow. The railroad may have been--and almost certainly was--an old-fashioned narrow gauge type, that had never been widened. There were only a few people aboard.
I traveled southward, gazing meditatively out on the Mediterranean Sea. After a short time, not more than an hour and a half or two if I recall, we arrived in what I thought was Tel Aviv. There we made some kind of connection. Did this involve changing trains, or just changing locomotives? It's too long ago to remember. All I know is that we were soon chugging through the Judaean Hills toward the city everyone calls Holy.
When we arrived at the Jerusalem station, I was pleased to realize that I was in my old neighborhood, so to speak, and could practically look into my own bedroom window. That was because the train came in very close to the famous Scottish Hospice (St. Andrew's) and to the British consulate. I had stayed at the Scottish Hospice on my previous trip, chronicled in my book "Jerusalem Journal". So I could gaze at the window and almost imagine myself waving back.
The origins and history of the little railroad have until recently been a puzzle to me; but I have recently learned more from another writer, far more famous than I. And that information I will share in my next post.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
"Imperium", by Robert Harris...
...or, "A Roman Reviewed"
Although centuries have passed since its fall, many of us cannot get the Roman Empire out of our heads. We remember resolute legions charging into battle, carrying the eagles of the great imperial city forward on what was then considered (at least by most Roman citizens) the triumphant surge of civilization. Thanks to a very great playwright named Shakespeare, and to some lesser and less well known scriptwriters, we remember great actors in great roles...Sir John Gielgud as Julius Caesar, Sir Alec Guinness as the Emperor Marcus Aurelius...
Why does memory linger? Because the Romans were like us in many ways, especially in their bedazzlement with power and their experiments with its use and its misuse.
In other words, their national--and imperial-- game was politics. Those who did not possess the skill required to ride the political wave were doomed to be swept under in its backwash. The Romans taught everybody who has come after them how the game is played; and everybody from Niccolo Machiavelli on would agree that not much has changed.
For this, I would add, I don't really blame the Romans. I believe the way we handle power is hardwired into our brains. Nobody really wants to throw the One Ring back into the fires of Mount Doom--to our great peril.
Robert Harris's "Imperium" is not a new book, simply one I consider worth sharing with readers. It's been out long enough that, if it interests you, you'll probably be able to arrange to borrow it at or through your public library--or buy it , new or used, online.
The book is about a Roman lawyer, orator, and statesman named Marcus Tullus Cicero, who used to be much more famous than he is. Part of his marketing problem no doubt has to do with the fact that his contemporaries included the much more flamboyant Julius Caesar, Mark Antony, and Augustus Caesar--part that Cicero, in the end, was among those swept under by the wave of power he had tried to ride.
Cicero was a gifted young man from the provinces, who arrived in Rome with the highest ideals and the highest ambition. His goal was to attain "imperium," one of the two consulships, the highest offices in the Roman state. This office he intended to exercise in the most principled way.
The story of what happened is narrated by his slave and secretary Tiro, said to be the inventor of a system of shorthand. The shorthand makes him seem to be almost magically gifted to Cicero's colleagues and enemies.
But Tiro's magic powers do not extend to an insightful telling of the tale of his master's moral decline; he is too loyal to see the import of what is happening. When Cicero's devoted relative Lucius, a man of the highest probity, commits suicide, this fact is mentioned to us by Tiro, but he does not tell Cicero about it. The secretary cannot or will not come to terms with Cicero's alteration in character, let alone its connection with Lucius's death.
It would be a good thing if our elected officials read more books that have to do with Roman history and politics. But would such reading encourage them to clean up the sinkhole of corruption that seems to be politics today? Or would they, like Tiro, be unable to come to terms with the facts as they are?
Although centuries have passed since its fall, many of us cannot get the Roman Empire out of our heads. We remember resolute legions charging into battle, carrying the eagles of the great imperial city forward on what was then considered (at least by most Roman citizens) the triumphant surge of civilization. Thanks to a very great playwright named Shakespeare, and to some lesser and less well known scriptwriters, we remember great actors in great roles...Sir John Gielgud as Julius Caesar, Sir Alec Guinness as the Emperor Marcus Aurelius...
Why does memory linger? Because the Romans were like us in many ways, especially in their bedazzlement with power and their experiments with its use and its misuse.
In other words, their national--and imperial-- game was politics. Those who did not possess the skill required to ride the political wave were doomed to be swept under in its backwash. The Romans taught everybody who has come after them how the game is played; and everybody from Niccolo Machiavelli on would agree that not much has changed.
For this, I would add, I don't really blame the Romans. I believe the way we handle power is hardwired into our brains. Nobody really wants to throw the One Ring back into the fires of Mount Doom--to our great peril.
Robert Harris's "Imperium" is not a new book, simply one I consider worth sharing with readers. It's been out long enough that, if it interests you, you'll probably be able to arrange to borrow it at or through your public library--or buy it , new or used, online.
The book is about a Roman lawyer, orator, and statesman named Marcus Tullus Cicero, who used to be much more famous than he is. Part of his marketing problem no doubt has to do with the fact that his contemporaries included the much more flamboyant Julius Caesar, Mark Antony, and Augustus Caesar--part that Cicero, in the end, was among those swept under by the wave of power he had tried to ride.
Cicero was a gifted young man from the provinces, who arrived in Rome with the highest ideals and the highest ambition. His goal was to attain "imperium," one of the two consulships, the highest offices in the Roman state. This office he intended to exercise in the most principled way.
The story of what happened is narrated by his slave and secretary Tiro, said to be the inventor of a system of shorthand. The shorthand makes him seem to be almost magically gifted to Cicero's colleagues and enemies.
But Tiro's magic powers do not extend to an insightful telling of the tale of his master's moral decline; he is too loyal to see the import of what is happening. When Cicero's devoted relative Lucius, a man of the highest probity, commits suicide, this fact is mentioned to us by Tiro, but he does not tell Cicero about it. The secretary cannot or will not come to terms with Cicero's alteration in character, let alone its connection with Lucius's death.
It would be a good thing if our elected officials read more books that have to do with Roman history and politics. But would such reading encourage them to clean up the sinkhole of corruption that seems to be politics today? Or would they, like Tiro, be unable to come to terms with the facts as they are?
Monday, May 31, 2010
H.V. Morton--A Real "Find" For Readers
A friend of mine was recently going through the belongings of a deceased relative when she made the kind of discovery that brings joy to the hearts of readers. This discovery consisted of a couple of books by a writer she had never heard of, one H.V. Morton. These were far from ordinary books; they were the kind you wanted to commune with on long wintry nights (forget the television!) or on summer evenings in the long orange twilight.
My friend decided she had to take the measure of this--to her--unknown writer; so she sat down with one of his best-known works, "In Search Of Scotland". Within pages, she was captivated by his ability to paint landscapes with words and his deep commitment to the things and people he was writing about. He was a poet who happened to express himself in prose.
All these are excellent qualities for a travel writer, which is what Henry Canova Vollam Morton was. A Lancashireman, he was born in Ashton-under-Lyne, England, in 1892. He died far away, in South Africa, in 1979, where he and his family moved following World War II.
Morton, like all travel writers, drew pictures of what was for him the here-and-now, and is now history. He did it with deep feeling, with learning, and with high intelligence. I was so busy that, when my friend urged me to read his work, I was reluctant to take the time.
I certainly am glad I did! Now I am a member of the world-wide (and free-to-join) H.V. Morton Society, determined to read all of his 50-some books and to spread word about him as far as I can.
My suggestion to you? Find and try a Morton book. Then, let me know what you think.
My friend decided she had to take the measure of this--to her--unknown writer; so she sat down with one of his best-known works, "In Search Of Scotland". Within pages, she was captivated by his ability to paint landscapes with words and his deep commitment to the things and people he was writing about. He was a poet who happened to express himself in prose.
All these are excellent qualities for a travel writer, which is what Henry Canova Vollam Morton was. A Lancashireman, he was born in Ashton-under-Lyne, England, in 1892. He died far away, in South Africa, in 1979, where he and his family moved following World War II.
Morton, like all travel writers, drew pictures of what was for him the here-and-now, and is now history. He did it with deep feeling, with learning, and with high intelligence. I was so busy that, when my friend urged me to read his work, I was reluctant to take the time.
I certainly am glad I did! Now I am a member of the world-wide (and free-to-join) H.V. Morton Society, determined to read all of his 50-some books and to spread word about him as far as I can.
My suggestion to you? Find and try a Morton book. Then, let me know what you think.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Free Rice Revisited
Some time ago I recommended visiting the site Free Rice. For two reasons: First of all, your (free) participation in the games there will will help deliver food to the hungry around the world--in a time when hunger is an ever-more-threatening reality. Second, despite its serious purpose, it's both fun and educational, and will cost you nothing except a little time. (It is nice to give money to good causes; and I recommend it if you have the money. But if you don't have it right now, you won't need it to do good on www.freerice.com. Advertisers reward your efforts by contributing to the food programs of the United Nations.)
If I am unable to report a diminution in world hunger, the good news is that there are now more games, by far, than there were when National Public Radio alerted me to this site and I started to play the English vocabulary games there. At the time, as I recall, there was English vocabulary, some arithmetic and simple math, and not much more. Now there are games in art history, French, German, Italian, and Spanish, and maybe a few additional subjects as well.
So go on--go on over there and help reduce the amount of suffering in the world. Do some good, and at the same time brush up on your Bachelor of Arts and remind yourself how bright you are. It's for a great cause.
If I seem flippant about this, I'm not, really. This is not, maybe, the ideal way to do good--we, the players of games, get some personal gratification out of it; and the donors get a little good publicity. But imperfect good is better than no good at all. And sometimes it's a good idea to cut ourselves a little slack.
If I am unable to report a diminution in world hunger, the good news is that there are now more games, by far, than there were when National Public Radio alerted me to this site and I started to play the English vocabulary games there. At the time, as I recall, there was English vocabulary, some arithmetic and simple math, and not much more. Now there are games in art history, French, German, Italian, and Spanish, and maybe a few additional subjects as well.
So go on--go on over there and help reduce the amount of suffering in the world. Do some good, and at the same time brush up on your Bachelor of Arts and remind yourself how bright you are. It's for a great cause.
If I seem flippant about this, I'm not, really. This is not, maybe, the ideal way to do good--we, the players of games, get some personal gratification out of it; and the donors get a little good publicity. But imperfect good is better than no good at all. And sometimes it's a good idea to cut ourselves a little slack.
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