Welcome to the Twilight Zone and "Russian experiments in life after death."

Photos: Lenin's Mausoleum, 1989, from my collection. Indoor photography was not allowed, to put it mildly.

If it's really strange reading you're looking for, may I suggest this review in The Nation of a book by Anya Bernstein called The Future of Immortality: Life and Death in Contemporary Russia. The review begins with cryogenics and then really leaves the tracks.

The Collective Body: Russian experiments in life after death, by Sophie Pinkham

... This practice (of life-extending blood transfusions) has its origins in a truly utopian and egalitarian, if even more biologically suspect, experiment. Aleksandr Bogdanov, a prominent early Bolshevik and science fiction writer, investigated the rejuvenating properties of blood transfusions in the 1920s, though he soon died after exchanging blood with a tubercular student. As anthropologist Anya Bernstein discusses in The Future of Immortality: Remaking Life and Death in Contemporary Russia, Bogdanov’s hope was not merely to prolong the lives of individuals; he envisioned a sanguine communism in which all were granted an equal share of society’s collective health through blood exchanges.

You only thought you knew why the USSR failed.

“All social doctrines … all the social utopias humanity has tried to achieve have stumbled up against the short-breathedness of man,” (Anastasia) Gacheva tells the crowd. “The utopias stumbled on man’s deepest misfortune, which is his mortality. Mortal man cannot be made happy. This is why communism did not succeed.” Needless to say, this is a novel diagnosis of communism’s failure. It wasn’t the command economy, the Cold War, or growing popular resistance that brought the Soviet Union down but rather the failure to achieve eternal life. Until all people unite in the common cause—the struggle against death—the world will be rife with conflict, whether or not the state professes itself a utopia.

I'm headed back to reread this essay, this time with a couple belts of vodka.

Dear antifa: Can you include these teetotaling medical researchers in your next action?

Origins of the word (teetotalism) are interesting, indeed, but in this time of health fascists and killjoys, we turn to a fellow who understands the concept of "risk."

David Spiegelhalter, Winton professor for the public understanding of risk at the University of Cambridge, said the data showed only a very low level of harm in moderate drinkers and suggested UK guidelines were very low risk.

“Given the pleasure presumably associated with moderate drinking, claiming there is no ‘safe’ level does not seem an argument for abstention,” he said. “There is no safe level of driving, but government do not recommend that people avoid driving. Come to think of it, there is no safe level of living, but nobody would recommend abstention.”

Tell you what: you folks abstain, and then there'll be more of the good hootch left for me.

And by the way, to the health fascists: go forth, eat shit and ... that's right, die.

No healthy level of alcohol consumption, says major study, by Sarah Boseley (The Guardian)

Governments should consider advising people to abstain entirely, say authors

Even the occasional drink is harmful to health, according to the largest and most detailed research carried out on the effects of alcohol, which suggests governments should think of advising people to abstain completely.

The uncompromising message comes from the authors of the Global Burden of Diseases study, a rolling project based at the University of Washington, in Seattle, which produces the most comprehensive data on the causes of illness and death in the world.

Newspaper columnist Terry Cummins and his thoughts about finality.

2015.

I've been remiss in failing to post this link to a recent column by longtime newspaper contributor Terry Cummins, who was an assistant principal at Floyd Central during my years there, and later became a frequent customer at the Public House.

Simply stated, he's an amazing guy who keeps fighting through reversals that would have felled a lesser spirit. Terry just keeps on keeping on.

His ending here is a tad ambiguous, but he was back writing in today's paper. All the best to him.

CUMMINS: Thoughts about finality, by Terry Cummins (Tom May Anthology)

There was no escape from the long weekend, filled with disturbing and agonizing thoughts. After a pet scan on a Friday, I would receive the report on Monday morning that would answer my question — will I continue living or not? If this won’t get your attention, nothing will ...

On dying (2): "Supporting a terminally ill loved one."

It is a noteworthy yet unremarkable achievement to have attained the age of 56 without ever thinking much about this topic. More than anything else, serendipity deals the cards in life, and I've been damned lucky. There have been mercifully few instances of my having to face up to facts when a friend or loved one has received a terminal diagnosis.

Our friend and colleague Lloyd Wimp did. Lloyd's been gone almost six years, and when I think back to the period preceding his death, it was me who remained in denial, not him. This recognition informs me rather forcefully that perhaps a burden of improvement lies within me

As this insightful and very useful article makes clear, there is no concise television movie script to follow when it comes to support, and circumstances will vary. Ultimately, in life or death, we humans learn by doing. It's a strange thing, but there it is.

Terminal illness: Supporting a terminally ill loved one, by Mayo Clinic Staff (Mayo Clinic)

When terminal illness affects a loved one, it isn't always easy to know how to react. Find out how to offer support and deal with grief.

On dying (1): A new book about FDR's last months.

We can argue these points forever, but the fact remains that in 1945 the Red Army occupied the territories in eastern central Europe subsequently slated for duty as Soviet satellites, and given an ongoing war with Japan (and general Patton notwithstanding), there was little the United States could have done about it short of continuing military operations against the USSR.

Did Roosevelt's failing health have anything to do with any of this? I don't think so.

Stalin specialized in fostering delusion in the minds of wishful thinkers. Did Ronald Reagan's creeping dementia hasten the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the belated "end" of World War II? It's probably irrelevant, because by this juncture, Mikhail Gorbachev had assumed the role of wishful thinker.

Meanwhile, issues of presidential health have resurfaced during the reeking 2016 presidential debacle. Shall we have a discussion of whether Tim Kaine or Mike Pence is capable of carrying Harry Truman's jockstrap?

If so, you can count me out. I'm investing in booze futures as a hedge against the coming stupidity. Either way, you'll all be getting exactly what you deserve -- good and hard.

Did F.D.R. Know He Was Dying? Did Anyone? by Lynne Olson (New York Times)

HIS FINAL BATTLE
The Last Months of Franklin Roosevelt
By Joseph Lelyveld
Illustrated. 399 pp. Alfred A. Knopf. $30.

 ... Roosevelt’s cover-up of his failing health in the 1944 campaign was an egregious deception of American voters and helped contribute to a climate of cynicism about politicians that has fed today’s demands for transparency by candidates, including the public airing of details about their health and finances. By refusing to confront the possibility of his dying, Roosevelt also left behind a hornet’s nest of problems for others. He failed, for example, to brief his new vice president, Harry Truman, about such critical issues as the development of the atomic bomb and the West’s unraveling relationship with the Soviets.

Lelyveld offers several explanations for Roose­velt’s silence, including the rationale that he was no different from earlier presidents in his “arms-length relationship” with his vice president. In fact, thanks to his grave illness, Roosevelt was in a very different position. His reluctance to acknowledge that fact ended up making life extremely difficult for his unprepared successor, who was forced to make crucial decisions about both the atomic bomb and the Soviets in the first few months of his presidency.

There’s also the continuing controversy about whether Roosevelt’s obvious frailty impaired his judgment at Yalta ...

Suddeath: "Darkness doesn't last, unless you let it."

Following a long stint at the News and Tribune, reporter Daniel Suddeath accepted a position as editor of the Glasgow Daily Times in October of 2015.

Daniel and I seemingly are destined to disagree on many fronts, and we continue to do so. However, the commentary linked here is fine writing on the most difficult of topics, death. It is catharsis as a writer, and more importantly, as a son and a friend.

In fulfilling the task of the essayist, it also is instructive and beneficial for the reader. Read it, and I think you'll agree.  

A very good job, indeed. May your loved ones rest in peace.

Darkness doesn't last, unless you let it, by Daniel Suddeath (Glasgow Daily Times)

It's that dreary stretch of winter when most of us sane folks who can't stand the winter chill begin dreaming of the freshness of spring and warmer weather.

I was especially glad to see 2015 go, as it was one of the roughest years of my life. My father died somewhat unexpectedly in November, and his passing came just a few days after I received the news that one of my best friends from my former post in Southern Indiana had taken his own life.

Actually, listening to Cappuccino bloviate is like confronting death.

I'm told that Monday evening's council revival meeting, with Fr. Coffey presiding, came about because our ever-calculating 1st district councilman demanded procedural penance for acquiescing to the body's previous resolution about Indiana's Religious Freedom Restoration Act.

McLaughlin allows Coffey to talk continuously for 2.5 hours in "travesty" of a council meeting.

I wonder why the word "homophobic" springs to mind?

At any rate, for me, being forced to listen to Coffey preach for two and a half hours far exceeds uncertainty about death in terms of potential discomfort, which brings us to this.

For Believers, Talking to Atheists Is Like Confronting Death, by Natalie Shoemaker (Big Think)

... Tom Jacobs from Pacific Standard writes that atheists are not well-liked among believers. Derek Beres says that in his conversations with believers, they think atheists are arrogant, while Jacobs says that others believe that non-believers don't have any morals. However, a recent study published in the journal Social Psychological and Personality Science provides a reason for this antagonism: "Among believers, the mere contemplation of atheism can arouse intimations of mortality."

In a brief video at essay's end, former Massachusetts Congressman Barney Frank offers advice to atheist politicians: "Don't call yourself an atheist. It freaks religious people out." It's a video worth watching.

Health fascists were teetotalers even then.

Circa 1912. Thanks to Randy, via Gabe; images are explained here: I Am Death (From the Vaults of RAP blog).

"Death and the Civil War."

The trailer aptly summarizes the narrative, but the documentary's two-hour length seemingly detracts from the initial utility of viewer shock at the war's appalling carnage and the public's sorrow, anger and confusion over its toll. The repetition becomes numbing, but in the end, perhaps this is the central point. Translated into a present day five-year increment, the Civil War's mortality curve would suggest over seven million deaths -- so many that perhaps even political campaigns suddenly might become relevant.

"Sunlight For A Moonlight Man."

My ambivalence about sports is deeply rooted. There's love and hate in fairly equal measure, and yet this long read by Tom Dinard produced tears over coffee this morning, perhaps because the story reaffirms life itself, with or without baseball.

The Baylor family has its own one-game Yankee pitching appearance story much like Stefan Weyer's, but more closely resembling the fictional Moonlight Graham's. According to legend, my father's uncle supposedly hurled a major league inning or two for the Yankees in the late 1920's. That he was a minor leaguer loosely attached to the Yankees in spring training at the time is probable, albeit not beyond dispute. Unfortunately, a half-century of diligent baseball research on the part of statistics fanatics has failed to yield any evidence that his moment came in a genuine regular season game.

Dinard's piece is worth the time: Sunlight For A Moonlight Man.