Carl Wells Books

At one time major league baseball was very important to my life. I listened to the Cincinnati Reds on the radio faithfully. I wrote down the results of every game. One year I think I successfully recorded every “Star of the Game,” the player featured on the post-game show of that title, despite the fact that some games take place at night on the west coast, so that I would have to be up very late to get those results. If I missed any “Stars” that year, they were very few.

I attended quite a few games, despite the fact that it was a two hour drive one way to Cincinnati.

So yes, baseball was very big in my life. I suppose I was the kind of nerd who could have been told, “Get a life.” Well, I was never really very good at getting a life, but eventually, after a very long time, I did move on to spending much less time on baseball. Now I never listen to games. I still hope the Cincinnati Reds and the Chicago White Sox do well. If someone will drive me to a game, I’ll still be glad to go, but one game every two or three years would be enough for me.

These reflections are brought on by my having just finished a very interesting book by Joe Buck, currently a nationally known sports announcer. The book is Lucky B——: My Life, My Dad, and the Things I’m Not Allowed to Say on TV (2016 original date of publication). I have censored the title; this is a blog intended for a family audience.

Yes, Joe Buck didn’t mind putting the word b—— right in the title. Other vulgarities appear in the book; Mr. Buck, unlike me, is not writing for a family audience.

However, the title is not entirely gratuitous. Joe Buck was the son of famed St. Louis Cardinals announcer Jack Buck. Jack Buck had a wife and six children. Then he didn’t. He began an affair with Joe’s mother, left his wife and family, and married Joe’s mother. Joe was born about a month after the marriage. Eventually a daughter was born as well.

The “lucky” part is that Joe Buck grew up spending an enormous amount of time with his father, often in broadcast booths around the country. Joe Buck learned how to call games by osmosis. At a very early age he was calling games himself, first in the minor leagues (briefly), then at the astonishing early age of 20 or 21, in the major leagues. This of course drew the charge that he was advancing so quickly simply because he was the son of famed announcer Jack Buck.

But as Joe Buck points out, you can either do the job or you can’t. Joe Buck could not have carved out a career as an announcer–first as a Cardinal announcer, then nationally–had he not been able to do the job.

Joe Buck came along on television after most of my days listening to or watching sports were done.

Why all this is resonates with me is that I remember Jack Buck very well. And he was a fantastic baseball announcer.

I was a Cincinnati Reds fan. I had heard three Reds radio announcers. The first was Jim McIntyre, who I listened to in 1969–when I first started listening to games–and 1970. I liked Jim McIntyre, and still mourn over the fact that he was fired after 1970. I think it was unfair. There was nothing wrong with Jim McIntyre.

After him the Reds had Al Michaels for three years, 1971-1973. Al Michaels was special. It is no surprise at all that he went on to national fame. He left after 1973 for higher pay with another team. Here’s the thing, though. The Reds were very foolish to let him get away. They could not have kept him forever–he was headed for national fame eventually–but they might have signed him for at least another three years. The Reds were penny wise and pound foolish. Al Michaels would have been glad to stay, as his own memoir makes clear. The Reds should have opened their pocketbook just a little. But as my brother pointed out a week or so ago, sometimes people in positions of authority can let you down badly. It is a lesson my brother learned early in life. I guess I should have learned that lesson when the Reds let Al Michaels get away.

The next announcer was Marty Brennaman. He was good, and won many awards, but I admit I never warmed to him as I did to Al Michaels. Al Michaels had spoiled me. Marty Brennaman stayed around a long time (1974-2019). He was paired with former Reds pitcher Joe Nuxhall, who also had been paired with Jim McIntyre and Al Michaels. Brennaman and Nuxhall made a good announcing team.

But there is a difference between good and world class.

In the summer of 1984 I was living on the west side of town. Radio reception was slightly different there. I could pick up KMOX out of St. Louis. They broadcast the games of the St. Louis Cardinals. Possibly–not sure–there may also have been an FM station in the western part of Indiana which carried the Cardinals, which I was able to access.

Anyway, I begin to hear Jack Buck call the Cardinal games with former player Mike Shannon.

That was a revelation. The insights into the game were fantastic. The personalities of the two men meshed perfectly. It is difficult to believe there could be a better broadcast team than Jack Buck and Mike Shannon.

While I remained a Reds fan, I found myself listening to Cardinals games a lot. (Of course rooting for them as I listened.) I looked up 1984 just now. I wasn’t missing much in regard to the Reds that year. They finished 70-92, fifth out of six teams in their division of the NL. The Cardinals? They were significantly better, 84-78, third out of six teams in their division. But it wasn’t the fact that the Cardinals were slightly better than the Reds, that caused me to listen to the Cardinals. The Cardinals announcers were fantastic.

I only lived at that location for a brief period. My next home was a basement apartment. If memory serves, and I think it does, I couldn’t pick up the Cardinals as easily. So my time hearing Jack Buck and Mike Shannon was relatively brief. But I never forgot them.

There is a lot about Jack Buck (and a bit about Mike Shannon as well) in Joe Buck’s book. Some of it is disappointing. I had not realized how Joe Buck came into being. There were other aspects of Jack Buck’s character which were admirable. We all come into God’s hands needing mercy through Jesus Christ. Jack Buck (b. Aug. 21, 1924–d. June 18, 2002), rest in peace.

So I was glad to read Joe Buck’s book partly because it had so much to say about Jack Buck. Joe loved his father, and it shows.

The book contains many vulgarities. Parts are very funny. It rings true almost all the time. Joe Buck can see his own faults as an announcer. He is rich and famous, but really doesn’t seem arrogant.

Sadly, his own marriage collapsed. He has two daughters whom he loves. He remarried.

It’s just me of course, but I continue to believe that collapsing marriages could be avoided if people got regenerated and converted, and got in good Bible believing churches, and adjusted their lives according to the truths in the Bible. I suppose I’m hopelessly naive.

So be warned that if you read Lucky B——, you are not reading a memoir by a guy who believes the kind of things Christians tend to believe. That didn’t keep me from getting great enjoyment out of the book.

It is appropriate to give some credit for the book to Michael Rosenberg. The title page says the book is by Joe Buck “with Michael Rosenberg.” He has done an excellent job in helping Joe Buck find his written voice. It never occurs to either that some words are considered vulgar for a reason, and should be avoided. But greater writers than Joe Buck and Michael Rosenberg often make the same mistake.

When Joe Buck was just 21, already he was doing St. Louis Cardinals games on the radio. He was criticized by the media critic Dan Caesar at the St. Louis “Post-Dispatch.” Mr. Buck quotes part of the article, which says that being Jack Buck’s son is why Joe Buck was there, and that Joe Buck had not paid his dues. Then we read what happened over the next few weeks.

‘It was hard to read that in the only paper in my town, as a twenty-one-year-old. I felt like I got torpedoed before I even got started. I was so devastated that I actually cried.

‘A few weeks into the season, Caesar criticized me again. Then he asked for an interview.

‘I said, “Dan, you have my permission to just make up my quotes. I’ve got nothing to say. So if you want to make it up, I’m giving you free rein.”

‘He said, “Well, what does that mean?”

‘”It means I’m not interested in talking to you. You’re going to write whatever you want. You haven’t even really given me a chance. So just make it up. Go ahead.”

‘He asked me if he could take me to lunch to try to talk it out. We met at some restaurant at the mall. I told him: “I realize I’m being sensitive. I realize I’m my dad’s kid. But give me a chance. Let me do it and then tell St. Louis if I’m good or not good.”

‘And you know what? He did. He gave me a chance. And we got along great after that. But I kept that first article in my wallet for many years.’ (p. 76)

Giving a writer permission to make up whatever quotes he wants is a unique way to deal with criticism you feel is unfair. I got a huge kick out of that. But it seems to have worked. I also was fascinated to hear about Joe Buck carrying the article in his wallet for many years.

This book will not be for everyone. There are many vulgarities–the title gives us fair warning. But if you remember Jack Buck, as many Midwesterners will, this might be a book you will want to read. It is inexpensively priced on the Internet. I found my used paperback copy for $5.20 total, in early February, at Amazon. Doubtless similar prices can easily be found.

Today I want to discuss “Lark Rise to Candleford” and Lark Rise to Candleford.

That’s not as nonsensical as it may seem at first glance. “Lark Rise to Candleford” (with quotation marks) represents the BBC TV series (2008-2011) by that title. The unquotation-marked (to create a much-needed new word) Lark Rise to Candleford represents the trilogy of books on which the TV series was loosely based.

I heard of the TV series before the books. By putting our heads together, my sister and I have remembered how we–she–found the TV series. She had gotten a few DVDs at the library, for viewing at home. She thought “Lark Rise” was a movie rather than a TV series. It turned out not to be a movie.

When my Aged Parent was living, in the last years of her life we watched a DVD most nights. We were always on the lookout for things that appealed to both of us. We tried the “Lark Rise” TV series. It didn’t go over as well with my mother as it did with me, and we didn’t continue watching. I don’t think my mother watched even the entire first season, before we bailed on it.

However, I enjoyed the series a lot, and when my mother passed, I tried the series with my sister. This time things went better, as my sister enjoyed it also, and together we ended up watching the entire four years’ worth, 40 episodes, over a period of not quite five months.

Somewhere along the line I belatedly figured out that it might be a good idea to read at least one of the books on which the TV series was based. With the help of my friends at AbeBooks, I found and ordered an inexpensive Penguin edition entitled Lark Rise to Candleford. That is the general title of the the three book series written by Flora Thompson. All three books were included in the Penguin edition–about 520 pages total.

The books are memoirs. They are Lark Rise (1939), Over to Candleford (1941), and Candleford Green (1943). The TV series, needless to say, has increased the fame of the books. Which is a very good thing, because the books deserve to be read and remembered.

The books and TV series are quite different. The books inspired the TV series, but only loosely. If someone tried to follow the books closely, it would be possible to make an excellent documentary, but not a series of 40 shows (mostly 58 or 58 1/2 minutes each).

The moving force behind the series was a man named Bill Gallagher. He recognized that one could use the books as inspiration, and could create characters which would sustain a TV series year after year. He was correct. We owe him a thank you.

People barely mentioned in the books, become complete people with distinct personalities in the TV series.

This offends me not at all. The TV series stands alone, as very enjoyable and sometimes moving. The trilogy of books stands alone, as very enjoyable and sometimes moving. (Is there is an echo in here?)

Flora Thompson, the writer of the books, was born in a tiny hamlet. When she wrote her memoirs, she changed the name of the narrator to Laura. (Flora/Laura. Get it?) She was looking back on a way of life that was dying out. She wanted to tell what it had been like, honestly, but with affection for the world that she was born into.

She was born Dec. 5, 1876, and died May 21, 1947.

So her childhood and youth was spent in the late 1870s, the 1880s and the 1890s in rural England. It was a different world. We get a feel for that in the TV series, but we feel it most fully if we go a step further and read the books. I am very glad I didn’t stop at the TV series. The books are incredibly informative, moving, and humbling.

Flora/Laura lived in a hamlet which consisted of about 30 cottages and an inn (p. 17). People were poor, but there was no poverty of spirit. They worked hard, and made do. There is no pretense that they were angels.

There were twelve children born to the Timms family, of whom six lived beyond childhood. (In the TV series, Timms becomes Timmins.) Laura was the oldest. Next was her brother Edmund, with whom she had a close bond.

Laura obviously was intelligent, and she instinctively loved books. She describes herself as “A born looker-on” (p. 447), and clearly that is true. She was watching, storing up memories. She could not know that one day she would write books which would be loved and respected by countless people. A Gipsy told her fortune once, and said, ‘”You are going to be loved by people you’ve never seen and never will see.”‘ This fortune turned out to be true. By leaving us these three books, Flora Thompson has indeed earned the love of many people.

Flora Thompson was not the only member of her family to have a gift for writing. Her sister Betty Timms would eventually write a well-known children’s book entitled The Little Grey Men of the Moor.

The TV series is very well acted, often with thought-provoking plots that keep us guessing and thinking–and rooting. We get to know the people very well. Each viewer will have his or her favorites, no doubt. I certainly had mine. I will not name them here. We come to care about the people.

I am glad I saw some of the TV series first, before I read the books. Most people I think would do well to start with the TV series first. If you like that, try the books. If your library does not possess the TV series “Lark Rise to Candleford,” inter-library loan will be able to obtain it for you. If you like it enough to buy it, the entire series can be purchased on ebay for under $40.00. But don’t make so expensive a purchase until you have sampled the series. It will not be everyone’s cup of tea.

The entire book trilogy can be purchased for a pittance. Today I saw the one-volume edition for sale for $3.89 plus free shipping, sales tax extra. That includes all three books of the trilogy.

There is a biography of Flora Thompson, which I have not read. But I have ordered it, and I look forward to reading more about the born looker-on who has given us three valuable books, and who has inspired an excellent TV series. Gillian Lindsay wrote the biography, entitled Flora Thompson, The Story of the Lark Rise Writer.

As we come to the last paragraph of the first book of the trilogy, we learn that the bigger outside world would impinge on Lark Rise in a most astonishing fashion.

“Gallipoli? Kut? Vimy Ridge? Ypres? What did they know of such places? But they were to know them, and when the time came they did not flinch. Eleven out of that tiny community never came back again. A brass plate on the wall of the church immediately over the old end house seat is engraved with their names. A double column, five names long, then, last and alone, the name of Edmund.” (p. 246)

This is a gut punch to the reader.

I suppose it is just me, but this enrages me. World War I was a war in which England and its dominions should not have been involved. (Nor should the U.S.) But like most wars, it was “a rich man’s war, a poor man’s fight” (sometimes said of the U.S. Civil War). The leaders of England and the countries associated with England, quite up to the typical average of leadership insanity, led their people into a ridiculous slaughter for no sensible reason. The price was paid by the poor people of Lark Rise–eleven men!–including Laura’s beloved brother.

Edmund, we learn from Wikipedia, died at Ypres in 1916. Edmund had been able to do a lot of traveling in his life, just as he had wanted to do as a boy. When he fought in World War I, it was as part of the Canadian army. His earthly travels ended at Ypres.

Don’t fret, things can always get worse. Flora Timms grew up and eventually married and became Flora Thompson. They had three children, a girl and two boys. Their youngest son, Peter, died in World War II.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

The Depression–roughly 1929 through 1939–in the United States had wide ranging consequences for many people, of course. One mostly forgotten consequence is that many thousands of U.S. citizens wanted out. And the Soviet Union looked like the place to be.

Tim Tzouliadis tells us, for example, that in the first eight months of 1931, more than 100,000 Americans applied to go to the Soviet Union (p. 6). Of course not all those applications were accepted, but it showed how frustrated were American citizens. The three principal reasons listed on the applications were 1/unemployment, 2/disgust with conditions here, 3/interest in the Soviet experiment (p. 7).

This is information we get in the first few pages of Tim Tzouliadis’ history, The Forsaken: An American Tragedy in Stalin’s Russia (2008).

The U.S. was having problems, at the same time that the Soviet Union had figured out how life should be organized. Let’s go there! What could possibly go wrong?

Only everything, of course.

And wrong is exactly how it went, with much suffering and many deaths. The Soviet Union was an equal opportunity destroyer. The destroyed their own people chiefly, but go over there to earn a living and to try to help them build the socialist paradise, and they will destroy you too.

Tim Tzouliadis has written an important book on a mostly forgotten segment of history. He was born in Athens, but raised in England. Apparently he is English, but obviously with some kind of Greek flavoring. He is basically a documentary filmmaker and television journalist. He was born in 1968, so he is still a relatively young man, now age about 54. Well, that sounds young to someone like me.

The Americans who made it to the Soviet Union had made a decision which would ruin their lives at best, and cost many of them life itself.

As one reviewer noted, it’s a depressing story as well as disturbing. What deepens the sadness is that American officialdom turned a blind eye to the misery of the Americans in the Soviet Union. Over and over again, we read passages similar to this one:

“The subject of the Americans executed in the Terror, and those still imprisoned in the Gulag, became one of the unspoken taboos of the wartime alliance, although both the disappearance of the Americans and the deaths inflicted within the Gulag were known at the time in the highest levels of the American government. But of this sensitive issue, never a word was spoken publicly.” (p. 234)

This was not a glitch, not a bug–it was a feature of the U.S. attitude toward the unfortunate Americans caught up in the Soviet system.

The willful naivete of our leaders, their willingness to ignore the truth, is off the charts. Leading the pack were ambassador to Russia Joseph Davies, U.S. Vice President Henry Wallace, and of course the cheerful gravedigger of Western civilization President Franklin Roosevelt. Even George Kennan failed to act with wisdom. We read,

“George Kennan’s belated recognition of the coercion used to strip Americans of their citizenship and his idea of publicizing their existence was, in retrospect, their only hope for salvation. But no such publicity was ever attempted, and Kennan was unwilling to act alone. Just like the others, he remained silent.” (p. 134)

At one point some American diplomats in Russia were disturbed at the blindness of Joseph Davies. What happened?

“Shocked at the apparent naivete of their new boss, the American diplomats met secretly in Loy Henderson’s rooms to consider a mass resignation in protest. Had they actually done so, perhaps subsequent events might have taken a different course, but at the critical moment the officials lost their nerve and stayed silent, reasoning that Joseph Davies would be in Moscow for only another year or possibly two, and they would wait it out.” (pp. 115-116)

The American singer Paul Robeson also revealed the true dimensions of his character. Robeson kept silent about the unjust execution of Ignaty Kazakov.

‘His guilty verdict and swift execution prompted an argument between Paul Robeson and his young son, who had since been moved to the Soviet diplomatic school in London. With a child’s instinct for justice, Paul Robeson, Jr. understood very well that the charges had been fabricated, and he accused his father of inaction: “We all knew he was innocent, and you never said a word.” In his memoirs, Paul Robeson, Jr., wrote that a few days later his father had explained how “sometimes great injustices may be inflicted on the minority when the majority is in the pursuit of a great and just cause.” (p. 98; italics in Mr. Tzouliadis’ text).

For Robeson, the end justified the means. Which is exactly opposite to biblical morality, which tells us to get to a good end by using a good means. (Romans 12:21)

All this reminds us that Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn always wanted people to speak out with the truth. The truth kept the pressure on the Soviet leaders. But to be willing to speak the truth, one has to be ready to accept the consequences for speaking the truth. It is easier to keep silent. This prompts me to suggest two things:

1/Yes, the elite leadership of the U.S. lacks wisdom and backbone. They have been bringing disaster to the U.S. for a very long time. But . . .

2/I think it is way past time we stopped blaming our elite for our problems. They are what they are, and they cannot change. A skunk is a skunk is a skunk. It is way past time we ordinary citizens, Christians and conservatives, grew up, accepted responsibility for ourselves, recognized reality as existing, and began to try to find a path to semi-sanity. If we love truth, we will find a way to honor God by our behavior. Leaving the reins in the hands of sociopaths (or are they psychopaths?) is not responsible behavior on our part.

Mr. Tzouliadis’ dedication is very appropriate. The italics are his:

“For the innocent who lost their lives of every nationality“

There are almost always a few survivors, no matter how disastrous an historical event. There were American survivors of the American adventure in the Soviet Union. Mr. Tzouliadis has done the research, has found the survivors who were able to leave a record, and has given them a voice. It is encouraging to note that a great many people have heard him. For example, on Amazon, 315 people have left a rating for The Forsaken, and the average vote was 4.8 out of 5–a very high approval rating.

So while the truth may be covered up for a while, it just sits there like a bump on a log, and when somebody diligently uncovers the truth, as Mr. Tzouliadis has done, the truth still resonates with some of us. We’re not dead yet.

The Forsaken is very moderately priced on the Internet. Today I saw a used hardcover copy available at AbeBooks for $7.00 total, shipping included (a few coins extra for sales tax).

The Forsaken is one of those books which reminds us of the somewhat paradoxical truth that the more we learn, the more we realize we don’t know much. Learning about the forgotten miseries of Americans trapped in the Soviet Union almost a century ago is a reminder of how little we know. This has its bright side: if we want to learn from history, we will always have job security. There is always so much more to learn. Thanks to Tim Tzouliadis for exposing one tiny corner of my ignorance.

Thomas Sowell is a black economist who defends the free market. He is a serious scholar and has written more than 40 books. He was born on June 30, 1930, and so he is currently 91. Some of us consider him a national treasure.

My favorite of Thomas Sowell’s books–I have read only about eight of the 40 plus–is A Man of Letters. I discuss it at full chapter length in my upcoming book, Books I Have Loved, scheduled for publication within six or eight months approximately if the creeks don’t rise.

Today, however, I want to discuss another of Dr. Sowell’s books which made a huge impression on me. It was first published in 1995, but is as timely today as when first written. The book is The Vision of the Anointed: Self-Congratulation as a Basis for Social Policy.

In Vision, Dr. Sowell shows how the self-congratulating moral blindness of liberals is destructive of their ability to deal with reality honestly. Sound like a topic which might be useful for our current day? The book was published 27 long years ago, but we need its insights now more than ever.

Somewhere–it may even be in this book–Dr. Sowell says that we are entitled to our own opinions, but that we are not entitled to our own facts. We are not permitted to make things up. In our current day, that truth no longer seems to be true. Much of the left seems to be creating their own “facts,” without reference to truth and reality. They seem comfortable with such a state of affairs, and since they hold most of the power in the country, the rest of us have to take note and plan our strategy accordingly.

Probably the best way for me to proceed, is simply to quote passages from the book. So I’ll just basically put Dr. Sowell to work, and hope he doesn’t send me an invoice for services rendered. Call it white privilege in action.

All italics are Dr. Sowell’s.

The vision of the anointed–the liberals–has consequences in social policy. Dr. Sowell is writing not just to see inside the mind of the anointed, but rather his book

“is also an empirical comparison between the promised benefits of policies based on that vision and the grim and often bitter consequences of those political and judicial decisions. In short, the purpose is not simply to see what kind of world exists inside the minds of a self-appointed elite, but to see how that world affects the world of reality in terms as concrete as crime, family disintegration, and other crucial social phenomena of our times.” (p. x)

“Today, despite free speech and the mass media, the prevailing social vision is dangerously close to sealing itself off from any discordant feedback from reality.” (p. 1)

It is important to note that the leftist vision

‘is a prevailing vision–which means that its assumptions are so much taken for granted by so many people, including so-called “thinking people,” that neither those assumptions nor their corollaries are generally confronted with demands for empirical evidence. Indeed, empirical evidence itself may be viewed as suspect, insofar as it is inconsistent with that vision.’ (p. 2)

The liberals’ quest

“is not for reality but for a vision. What does the vision offer that reality does not offer?

“What a vision may offer, and what the prevailing vision of our time emphatically does offer, is a special state of grace for those who believe in it. Those who accept this vision are deemed to be not merely factually correct but morally on a higher plane.” (pp. 2-3)

When liberals assume mean-spiritedness among those of us who disagree with them, they are not using debating tactics. Rather,

“People are never more sincere than when they assume their own moral superiority.” (p. 3)

“the vision of the anointed is not simply a vision of the world and its functioning in a causal sense, but is also a vision of themselves and of their moral role in that world. It is a vision of differential rectitude. It is not a vision of the tragedy of the human condition: Problems exist because others are not as wise or as virtuous as the anointed.” (p. 5)

The anointed grow to adulthood unaware that

‘evidence might be relevant to checking out the sweeping assumptions of so-called “thinking people.” Many of these “thinking people” could more accurately be characterized as articulate people, as people whose verbal nimbleness can elude both evidence and logic. This can be a fatal talent, when it supplies the crucial insulation from reality behind many historic catastrophes.’ (p. 6)

My personal word for such people is articulunes–articulate lunatics.

“The prevailing vision of our time–the vision of the anointed–has shown an extraordinary ability to defy evidence.” (p. 7)

You will be “shocked–shocked” to learn that the real goal of government in regard to sex education

“was to change students’ attitudes–put bluntly, to brainwash them with the vision of the anointed, in order to supplant the values they had been taught at home.” (pp. 19-20)

Values and behavior are crucial.

“Although the poverty rate among blacks in general is higher than that among whites in general, the poverty rate among families headed by black married couples has for years been consistently lower than the poverty rate among white, female-headed families, the latter living in poverty about twice as often as black intact families. . . . In short, race makes less difference than whether or not there are two parents.” (p. 58; the ellipsis is mine)

“The family is inherently an obstacle to schemes for central control of social processes. Therefore the anointed necessarily find themselves repeatedly on a collision course with the family. . . . the preservation of the family as an autonomous decision-making unit is incompatible with the third-party decision making that is at the heart of the vision of the anointed.” (p. 62; the ellipsis is mine)

‘As late as 1950, 72 percent of all black men and 81 percent of black women had been married. But the 1960 census showed the first signs of a decline that accelerated in later years–as so many other social declines began in the 1960s. This new trend, beginning a century after Emancipation, can hardly be explained as “a legacy of slavery” and might more reasonably be explained as a legacy of the social policies promoted by the anointed, especially since similar social policies led to similarly high rates of unwed motherhood in Sweden, where neither race nor slavery could be held responsible.’ (p. 81)

“it is so easy to be wrong–and to persist in being wrong–when the costs of being wrong are paid by others.” (p. 136)

“What is crucial is that the very possibility that the benighted may be closer to the truth, even in a given area, is simply not taken seriously by the anointed. Verbal preemption makes it unnecessary for those with the prevailing vision to have to face such a possibility.” (p. 189)

‘What is at stake for the anointed in their discussions of public policy issues is their whole image of themselves as people whose knowledge and wisdom are essential to the diagnosis of social ills and the prescription of “solutions.” To believe that their knowledge and understanding are grossly inadequate for what they are attempting–even if everyone else’s knowledge is also grossly inadequate for such ambitious social engineering–would be to bring their whole world crashing down around them. They must believe that they know–and that they know better than others.’ (p. 204)

These few quotes barely scratch the surface of the insights given to us in The Vision of the Anointed. It is a book which calmly but unflinchingly looks at the moral vision of the people who are certain that they deserve to tell us all how to behave. Facts which indicate otherwise should be ashamed of themselves.

As important a book as this was in 1995, perhaps it is even more important today. The power, arrogance, intellectual dishonesty, ignorance, and numbers of the anointed have grown significantly since 1995. These people aren’t going away, and they are never going to admit they are wrong.

Fine. What about if the rest of us just decide to live in the real world, and see what happens? It might be fun. It can’t be worse than living in the pathetic, dishonest world of the anointed.

The best price I could find on the Internet this morning for The Vision of the Anointed: Self-Congratulation as a Basis for Social Policy was $9.27 plus $3.99 shipping at Amazon. Sales tax will add a bit more. At approximately $14.00, this book is a great bargain.