The Monthly Salon: January
Happy New Year, and all that
Greetings to all of you as 2023 dawns. I wonder what it will bring. This time last year I was putting the finishing touches to my covidian ebook The Vaccine Moment, and feeling bleak about the future. Looking back now, I sometimes have to remind myself that the covid years really did happen and were not some kind of bad dream. It would be nice to think that it was all an abberation and could never happen again, but as you all know by now, I suspect otherwise. On the bright side: whatever 2023 brings, it’s not starting as badly as last year did.
I don’t usually do new year’s resolutions, but this year I’ve committed myself to giving up alcohol for at least the next 365 days. I’m putting this on the Internet so that wavering in public will be harder. So far though, I’m finding the commitment liberating. Over the years I’ve given up, at various times, TV, meat, dairy products, social media, flying, writing and having a job, as well as refusing to get on board at all with credit cards, mortgages, investments, smartphones or anything that can listen to me and send the results to an algorithm. I hasten to add that this does not make me any kind of ascetic. But in a glutted, greedy culture, I have found that refusal offers a cheerful kind of freedom.
Anyway: welcome to our first monthly discussion salon of 2023. Following the successful experiment last month of opening these up to my free subscribers too, I’ve decided that from now on I’m going to do the same thing every other month.
As ever, this is a space for you to reflect on anything you like. If you need a steer - though don’t feel you should - you might want to tell us if you’ve read anything interesting lately. Over the last few weeks I’ve read a number of usefully insightful essays here and there: on the new demonisation of beauty; on how the old leftist desire to abolish the family refuses to die; on Russia’s new ‘privatised digital control grid’ (bad news for any culture warriors who think Putin will save them); on the ‘new secular clerisy’ here in Ireland, who are busy building a woke religion to replace that of the Catholic church; and on how control of language equals control of culture.
I appreciate that this is not really a list of light reads, and that tradition demands rugged optimism at this time of year. Maybe somebody else can help with that. Fire away.
I quit drinking in August 1986, shortly before my 33rd birthday. I was drinking pretty heavily in that period of my life, although never every day. But, it was becoming a problem. One morning I woke up with a slight hangover, having not imbibed overmuch the prior evening. Laying there, I thought about the bar I had visited, and how I almost did a really stupid thing. Rare good judgment prevented a disaster.
Then, I heard a very distinct voice speak to me. It was not my usual inner voice that said things like, "I am going to find that guy who scratched my car and kill him!" No. This voice came from without, and was very soft and gentle, like that of a young woman or perhaps a child. Whichever it was, the voice
clearly said, "The party is over, Jim. The party is over." That was the whole message, and I knew what it meant. I resolved to quit drinking that day.
A few weeks later, I began doubting my experience, and tried to drink again. I had two beers, then stopped. I realized that something dramatic had occurred, and I simply had lost the desire. It never returned.
Friends were amazed at my decision to quit drinking, and offered their congratulations. I accepted, but perhaps under false pretenses, because I have never been particularly proud for having quit. I cannot really accept responsibility for the decision, because I don't believe it was mine. As gentle as the voice was, it brooked no dissent. I wasn't being asked.
Of course, I have wondered since if I actually heard anything that morning, or whether it was simply a figment of my imagination. It may well have been. All I can say for sure is that it was one of the realest experiences I have ever had, and that it resulted in a most profound change in my life. For that I am grateful.
I have been working on giving up my 'need' for information. I am pulled in the direction of the computer to get my fix. I know that to keep up with the information I want to have I could read maybe every two weeks. I may have to make a two week break (or longer) to see what happens and to really know how this addiction is affecting me. So far I have been cutting down, deleting some sources of info, reading less of what comes to my inbox. I have been studying St. Augustine's 'Confessions' which is helpful as he always had a push/pull between outside stuff and inside stuff.