Aristotle discusses eleven virtues:

Courage
Temperance / moderation
Generosity
Magnificence
Magnanimity / forgiving of insult / highmindedness
Right ambition
Good temper
Friendliness
Truthfulness
Wit
Justice

Virtues are acquired through habituation.

The four requirements for virtue in an action are that the actor:

(a) know what he is doing

(b) intend the action for its own sake

(c) take pleasure in the action

(d) take the action with certainty and fairness

When we raise kids, we teach virtue ethics. Through repetition, and ultimately, we hope, habituation, we teach kids to act virtuously, with high character, and therefore morally.

What are the magic words, Rory?

“Thank you.”

We don’t teach children that saying “thank you” is a duty that all rational actors inescapably impose on themselves because a world in which everyone says “thank you” to everyone else is a world in which humans are more likely to flourish (Kant-Rawls). Similarly, we don’t teach children that it is important to say “thank you” because when doing so more happiness is created in the listener than cost incurred by the speaker (Bentham-Mill). Too many words. Instead, we tell children only that “You should say thank you because that is what splendid people do. And you want to be splendid.” Aristotilian virtue ethics are economical in this way. Well-suited for tired parents. We pull long-winded deontological and consequentialist explanations from our back pockets and use them only after children begin to retort “Well, what if I don’t want to be splendid?”

We used to call this sworking.  Sorta working.

Very funny.

https://fivethirtyeight.com/features/purple-america-has-all-but-disappeared/?ex_cid=politicsnewsletter

President Trump’s victory over Hillary Clinton was among the narrowest in history, and the country is deeply split on his job performance so far. But if you feel like you hardly know anyone who disagrees with you about Trump, you’re not alone: Chances are the election was a landslide in your backyard.

More than 61 percent of voters cast ballots in counties that gave either Clinton or Trump at least 60 percent of the major-party vote last November. That’s up from 50 percent of voters who lived in such counties in 2012 and 39 percent in 1992 — an accelerating trend that confirms that America’s political fabric, geographically, is tearing apart.

Of the nation’s 3,113 counties (or county equivalents), just 303 were decided by single-digit margins — less than 10 percent. In contrast, 1,096 counties fit that description in 1992, even though that election featured a wider national spread.¹ During the same period, the number of extreme landslide counties — those decided by margins exceeding 50 percentage points — exploded from 93 to 1,196, or over a third of the nation’s counties.

. . . .

November’s election was an exclamation point — or perhaps a flashing danger sign. Legions of big counties were won in a landslide (by at least 20 points): The counties containing Ocala, Florida; St. Cloud, Minnesota; Utica, New York; Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania; and Charleston, West Virginia, were Republican routs for the first time in a generation. Meanwhile, San Diego County, California; Montgomery County, Pennsylvania; and Henrico County, Virginia — all GOP landslide counties in 1988 — became Democratic landslide counties in 2016.

Those examples prove that communities can change allegiances over time. But most places just aren’t budging — in fact, they’re doubling down. In an increasing number of communities like Baldwin County, Alabama, which gave Trump 80 percent of its major-party votes, and San Mateo, California, which gave Clinton 80 percent, an entire generation of youth will grow up without much exposure to alternative political points of view. If you think our political climate is toxic now, think for a moment about how nasty politics could be 20 or 30 years from now.

Robert likes to review the higher education offerings from time to time. One can dream . . .

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deep_Springs_College

Theodore Payne Wild Flower Hotline.

Listen Here!

http://theodorepayne.org/education/wildflower-hotline/

Lots of wind and rain and hail, might as well paint!

Very cool.

There are a couple experts on the Shackleton expedition right here in the Pierce household. Here’s the documentary video.

Here’s the ad that Ernest Shackleton ran in the newspaper looking for crew. To which he received 5000 responses.

Perhaps we should take a moment to remind ourselves of some relevant political history.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saturday_Night_Massacre

The Saturday Night Massacre was the term used by political commentators^[1] to refer to U.S. President Richard Nixon‘s dismissal of independent special prosecutor Archibald Cox, and as a result the resignations of Attorney General Elliot Richardson and Deputy Attorney General William Ruckelshaus on October 20, 1973, during the Watergate scandal.^[2][3]

History

A.G. Elliot Richardson appointed Cox in May of that year, after having given assurances to the House Judiciary Committee that he would appoint a special prosecutor to investigate the events surrounding the Watergate break-in of June 17, 1972. The appointment was created as a Career Reserved position in the Justice department, which meant (a) it came under the authority of the Attorney General, and (b) the incumbent could not be removed for any reason other than “for cause” (e.g., gross improprieties or malfeasance in office). Richardson had, in his confirmation hearings before the U.S. Senate, given the explicit promise not to use his authority to dismiss the Watergate Special Prosecutor, unless for cause.

When Cox issued a subpoena to President Nixon, asking for copies of taped conversations recorded in the Oval Office and authorized by Nixon, the President initially refused to comply. On Friday, October 19, 1973, Nixon offered what was later known as the Stennis Compromise—asking the infamously hard-of-hearing Senator John C. Stennis of Mississippi to review and summarize the tapes for the special prosecutor’s office. Cox refused the compromise that same evening and it was believed that there would be a short rest in the legal maneuvering while government offices were closed for the weekend.

However, on the following day (a Saturday) Nixon ordered Attorney General Richardson to fire Cox. Richardson refused, and resigned in protest. Nixon then ordered Deputy Attorney General William Ruckelshaus to fire Cox. He also refused and resigned.^[4][5]

Nixon then ordered the Solicitor General, Robert Bork (as acting head of the Justice Department), to fire Cox. Both Richardson and Ruckelshaus had given personal assurances to Congressional oversight committees that they would not interfere, but Bork had not. Although Bork later claimed that he believed Nixon’s order to be valid and appropriate, he still considered resigning to avoid being “perceived as a man who did the President’s bidding to save my job.”^[6] Nevertheless, having been brought to the White House by limousine and sworn in as Acting Attorney General, Bork wrote the letter firing Cox.^[7] Initially, the White House claimed to have fired Ruckelshaus, but as The Washington Post article written the next day pointed out, “The letter from the President to Bork also said Ruckelshaus resigned.”

On November 14, 1973, federal District Judge Gerhard A. Gesell ruled that the dismissal of Cox was illegal, in the absence of a finding of extraordinary impropriety as specified in the regulation establishing the special prosecutor’s office.^[8] Congress was infuriated by the act, which was seen as a gross abuse of presidential power. The public sent in an unusually large number of telegrams to both the White House and Congress.^[9][10] Less than a week after the Saturday Night Massacre, an Oliver Quayle poll for NBC News showed that for the first time, a plurality of U.S. citizens now supported impeachment of Nixon, with 44% in favor, 43% opposed, and 13% undecided, with a sampling error of 2 to 3 percent.^[11] In the days that followed, numerous resolutions of impeachment against the president were introduced in Congress.