Thanks for being a subscriber.
Sorry, your subscription does not include this content.
Please contact your publisher to upgrade your subscription.
Perspective
Amses: Light in the darkness
I’m sitting five feet from a fired up wood stove, the warmest place in a house that’s been without electricity and furnace for nearly three days, the second such outage in a couple of weeks and third in less than a year. A foot of heavy, wet snow and thousands of fallen branches and broken trees have town road crews and power company linesmen out there 24/7 trying to restore some semblance of order. It will be a long time coming and will feel even longer. While my face is warm and my elevated feet toasty enough to comfortably lose the blanket I’ve been huddled under for hours, my back is still cold as it becomes abundantly clear that it will take more than a couple of hours to warm the place. Built in the 1960s as a hunting and fishing camp with hooks for several hammocks lining the beams, the house is a spectacular example of inefficiency, with vaulted ceilings, too many windows and a layout like a miniature golf course, requiring several different heating strategies. It could be worse. Without the option of burning wood we’d not be able to remain here with the interior temperature hovering in the mid-forties when we arrived home after a month away. Our lives reduced to the basics for several days, we behave like like bears or Neanderthals, concentrating on food, warmth, shelter and glorious sleep, which feels like the perfect antidote to almost everything and is not without evolutionary precedent. Fossil experts believe that our early human ancestors may have dealt with severe cold by actually sleeping through the winter. Damaged bone fossils discovered at one of the world’s most important anthropological sites in Atapuerca, near Burgos in northern Spain suggest that hundreds of thousands of years ago hominids may have followed the same strategy as cave bears, slowing their metabolism and bedding down for months at a time. According to the Guardian, based on excavations in a cave called Sima de los Huesos — the pit of bones — a similar pattern of lesions and other dings in the fossilized bones of early humans were similar to those in the bones of other animals that hibernate. Sleeping the rest of the winter ... which hasn’t even officially begun ... seems a lot less dumb than it should at the moment. There’s not much to do that’s even remotely pressing. Outside chores are buried and likely will be until April, the tangle of pine boughs that I thought needed relocation is frozen like Excalibur in the mound of concrete that slid off the roof and the water content of the snow makes shoveling an even loonier idea than a five-month siesta. When the sun appears to be going down at 2 p.m. I begin questioning whether it was ever up at all these darkest days of the year. Even the ton of snow out there doesn’t brighten things up even a little. Candles and oil lamps only add to the deeply dank atmosphere, their meager light easily absorbed by the all encompassing darkness, reducing the size of the once large space to an impoverished sphere of sickly, yellow luminosity, where we sit as though awaiting rescue. It should be an ideal time to relax or read, but I can’t seem to do either. I’m busy obsessing over the rest of the world showing up on Vermont’s doorstep. That’s when I realize the darkness extends well beyond a simple dearth of illumination, as much about the loss of hope as malfunctioning light bulbs and while I’m confident the power will return at some point, I’m not so sure now the rest of the equation will resolve, if it ever does. In a thoughtful New York Times essay, Mary Pipher, a clinical psychologist from Nebraska, writes of these darkest days of the year when, “The world is pummeled with misfortune”; a time when we’re “confronted with the darkness of wars, dysfunctional government, fentanyl deaths, mass shootings and the tragedy of climate change with its droughts, floods, fires and hurricanes.” It’s this allegorical darkness that seems to touch us all in one way or another these days. I’m reminded that climate change is already here, promising another compromised winter with threats hovering in nearly every weather forecast; marginal conditions leading to more frequent and longer lasting power outages; and stark memories of July’s catastrophic flooding never far away. But as formidable an obstacle as a warming planet can be, the crushing reality of today’s darkness shadows almost every experience we have. One recent evening we passed up several convenient Burlington parking spaces because of the adjacent sidewalk crowd, probably more unlucky than malevolent, but the Queen City’s deteriorating reputation factored into a decision to walk farther and feel safer. Shootouts in the parking garage; needle strewn gutters; and an uptick in every kind of mayhem culminating with the attempted murder of three Palestinian students left us cringing at the very real possibility that Vermont was becoming just like everywhere else. Despite the rationale being sound, I felt awful about doing it. A couple of days later, after yet another heavy, wet snowfall that mercifully leaves the power intact, we’re walking on a rare, sunny afternoon, screaming back at the taunting pair of neighborhood ravens diving in and out of sight. Although Pipher’s piece offers a brutal accounting of a shattered world, she quickly shifts focus to how we might go about creating our own light by taking in our surroundings — birds particularly — whether at the feeder or in the wild. The light flickering off the snow emphasizes our lengthening shadows as the sun flirts with dusk, dipping behind hillsides, reminding us that days grow short as we approach winter solstice. Basking in the dwindling light overlooking a wetland already frozen for the duration, I’m taken once again by the beauty of our back road and the 40 years of respite it has provided in every situation imaginable. And for the first time since the lights went out it dawns on me how incredibly lucky we are. Walt Amses lives in North Calais.
I’m sitting five feet from a fired up wood stove, the warmest place in a house that’s been without electricity and furnace for nearly three days, the second such outage in a couple of weeks and third in less than a year. A foot of heavy, wet snow and thousands of fallen branches and broken trees have town road crews and power company linesmen out there 24/7 trying to restore some semblance of order. It will be a long time coming and will feel even longer.
While my face is warm and my elevated feet toasty enough to comfortably lose the blanket I’ve been huddled under for hours, my back is still cold as it becomes abundantly clear that it will take more than a couple of hours to warm the place. Built in the 1960s as a hunting and fishing camp with hooks for several hammocks lining the beams, the house is a spectacular example of inefficiency, with vaulted ceilings, too many windows and a layout like a miniature golf course, requiring several different heating strategies.
It could be worse. Without the option of burning wood we’d not be able to remain here with the interior temperature hovering in the mid-forties when we arrived home after a month away. Our lives reduced to the basics for several days, we behave like like bears or Neanderthals, concentrating on food, warmth, shelter and glorious sleep, which feels like the perfect antidote to almost everything and is not without evolutionary precedent. Fossil experts believe that our early human ancestors may have dealt with severe cold by actually sleeping through the winter.
Damaged bone fossils discovered at one of the world’s most important anthropological sites in Atapuerca, near Burgos in northern Spain suggest that hundreds of thousands of years ago hominids may have followed the same strategy as cave bears, slowing their metabolism and bedding down for months at a time. According to the Guardian, based on excavations in a cave called Sima de los Huesos — the pit of bones — a similar pattern of lesions and other dings in the fossilized bones of early humans were similar to those in the bones of other animals that hibernate.
Sleeping the rest of the winter ... which hasn’t even officially begun ... seems a lot less dumb than it should at the moment. There’s not much to do that’s even remotely pressing. Outside chores are buried and likely will be until April, the tangle of pine boughs that I thought needed relocation is frozen like Excalibur in the mound of concrete that slid off the roof and the water content of the snow makes shoveling an even loonier idea than a five-month siesta.
When the sun appears to be going down at 2 p.m. I begin questioning whether it was ever up at all these darkest days of the year. Even the ton of snow out there doesn’t brighten things up even a little. Candles and oil lamps only add to the deeply dank atmosphere, their meager light easily absorbed by the all encompassing darkness, reducing the size of the once large space to an impoverished sphere of sickly, yellow luminosity, where we sit as though awaiting rescue.
It should be an ideal time to relax or read, but I can’t seem to do either. I’m busy obsessing over the rest of the world showing up on Vermont’s doorstep. That’s when I realize the darkness extends well beyond a simple dearth of illumination, as much about the loss of hope as malfunctioning light bulbs and while I’m confident the power will return at some point, I’m not so sure now the rest of the equation will resolve, if it ever does.
In a thoughtful New York Times essay, Mary Pipher, a clinical psychologist from Nebraska, writes of these darkest days of the year when, “The world is pummeled with misfortune”; a time when we’re “confronted with the darkness of wars, dysfunctional government, fentanyl deaths, mass shootings and the tragedy of climate change with its droughts, floods, fires and hurricanes.” It’s this allegorical darkness that seems to touch us all in one way or another these days.
I’m reminded that climate change is already here, promising another compromised winter with threats hovering in nearly every weather forecast; marginal conditions leading to more frequent and longer lasting power outages; and stark memories of July’s catastrophic flooding never far away. But as formidable an obstacle as a warming planet can be, the crushing reality of today’s darkness shadows almost every experience we have.
One recent evening we passed up several convenient Burlington parking spaces because of the adjacent sidewalk crowd, probably more unlucky than malevolent, but the Queen City’s deteriorating reputation factored into a decision to walk farther and feel safer. Shootouts in the parking garage; needle strewn gutters; and an uptick in every kind of mayhem culminating with the attempted murder of three Palestinian students left us cringing at the very real possibility that Vermont was becoming just like everywhere else. Despite the rationale being sound, I felt awful about doing it.
A couple of days later, after yet another heavy, wet snowfall that mercifully leaves the power intact, we’re walking on a rare, sunny afternoon, screaming back at the taunting pair of neighborhood ravens diving in and out of sight. Although Pipher’s piece offers a brutal accounting of a shattered world, she quickly shifts focus to how we might go about creating our own light by taking in our surroundings — birds particularly — whether at the feeder or in the wild.
The light flickering off the snow emphasizes our lengthening shadows as the sun flirts with dusk, dipping behind hillsides, reminding us that days grow short as we approach winter solstice. Basking in the dwindling light overlooking a wetland already frozen for the duration, I’m taken once again by the beauty of our back road and the 40 years of respite it has provided in every situation imaginable. And for the first time since the lights went out it dawns on me how incredibly lucky we are.
Walt Amses lives in North Calais.
Editorials
Editorial: Be right, make enemies
The stakes are high for all parties taking sides in the Hamas-Israel conflict. The members of Vermont’s congressional delegation have certainly been leaning in a direction of a cease-fire and an end to the bloodshed for good. Israel has said it will not stop. And now the U.S. pledge to maintain support through aid is feeling messy. So messy, in fact, that those individuals taking a firm stance are more than likely alienating members of their base. U.S. Rep. Becca Balint, who is Jewish, has been pushing for a peaceful solution as well as condemning acts of antisemitism that have arisen as a result of the heated conflict. In the U.S. Senate, Peter Welch has been urging a cease-fire and peace talks. Bernie Sanders has taken the fight to a different level — one that may cost him votes in the future. Sanders is Jewish and spent time in Israel as a young man. He has drawn criticism from some of his former supporters for not calling for a cease-fire in the conflict. Sanders said recently that he wants a humanitarian end to the conflict. First, he urged conditions on any aid provided to Israel. In a commentary in the New York Times three weeks ago, when the issue was coming to a head, Sanders concluded by writing, “Over the years, people of good will around the world, including Israelis, have tried to address this conflict in a way that brings justice for Palestinians and security for Israel. I, and some other members of Congress, have tried to do what we could. Obviously, we did not do enough. Now we must recommit to this effort. The stakes are just too high to give up.” Then Sanders called for President Biden to cut proposed aid to Israel by $10.1 billion in a letter that called the Israeli military’s actions in Gaza a “mass atrocity” that the United States is complicit in. “Israel’s military campaign will be remembered among some of the darkest chapters of our modern history,” Sanders wrote in his letter. “And it is being done with bombs and equipment produced and provided by the United States and heavily subsidized by American taxpayers. Tragically, we are complicit in this carnage.” Sanders also asked Biden to support the humanitarian cease-fire resolution the United States recently vetoed in a meeting of the U.N. Security Council. “Long-term, I don’t know how you can have a permanent cease-fire when Hamas has made it very clear that that’s not what they want or believe in,” Sanders said. “And at the same time you have Netanyahu and his right-wing government wanting to continue the war. So I think it raises false hopes.” Then, when the aid vote came, Sanders was the lone member of the Senate Democratic caucus to oppose advancing a $10.5 billion supplemental foreign aid measure on, expressing opposition to the bill’s unconditional military assistance for the Israeli government. “I voted NO on the foreign aid supplemental bill today for one reason,” he said in a statement. “I do not believe that we should give the right-wing extremist Netanyahu government an additional $10.1 billion with no strings attached to continue their inhumane war against the Palestinian people.” “Israel has the absolute right to defend itself against the Hamas terrorists who attacked them on October 7,” Sanders added. “They do not have the legal or moral right to kill thousands of innocent Palestinian men, women and children.” This week, Sanders introduced a resolution in Congress to investigate Israel’s “indiscriminate bombing campaign in Gaza.” His stance has infuriated some of his former supporters and allies. But Sanders wants accountability. According to his statement, the resolution was introduced a resolution under Section 502B© of the Foreign Assistance Act “to force a debate on the indiscriminate bombing being carried out by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s right-wing government.” Sanders points out that the Foreign Assistance Act prohibits security assistance to any government “which engages in a consistent pattern of gross violations of internationally recognized human rights.” Section 502B© of this law allows Congress to request information on a country’s human rights practices — such requests are privileged, allowing the sponsor to force a floor vote on the requesting resolution. If the resolution passes, the Department of State must submit the requested report within 30 days, or all security assistance to the country in question is cut off. After the report is received, Congress may then enact changes to condition, reduce, or terminate the security assistance in question. Both the initial vote to request the information and any subsequent votes to alter security assistance are privileged and require a simple majority for passage, according to the statement. “The scale of the suffering in Gaza is unimaginable — it will be remembered among some of the darkest chapters of our modern history. This is a humanitarian cataclysm, and it is being done with American bombs and money. We need to face up to that fact — and then we need to end our complicity in those actions,” Sanders said. With no end to the conflict in sight, Sanders may just be posturing for the sake of posturing. History will look back on this time, indeed. It likely will assign blame on many nations, including us. It will also will reveal the carnage of sacrifice — in body counts and politics.
The stakes are high for all parties taking sides in the Hamas-Israel conflict. The members of Vermont’s congressional delegation have certainly been leaning in a direction of a cease-fire and an end to the bloodshed for good.
Israel has said it will not stop. And now the U.S. pledge to maintain support through aid is feeling messy. So messy, in fact, that those individuals taking a firm stance are more than likely alienating members of their base.
U.S. Rep. Becca Balint, who is Jewish, has been pushing for a peaceful solution as well as condemning acts of antisemitism that have arisen as a result of the heated conflict. In the U.S. Senate, Peter Welch has been urging a cease-fire and peace talks.
Bernie Sanders has taken the fight to a different level — one that may cost him votes in the future. Sanders is Jewish and spent time in Israel as a young man. He has drawn criticism from some of his former supporters for not calling for a cease-fire in the conflict. Sanders said recently that he wants a humanitarian end to the conflict.
First, he urged conditions on any aid provided to Israel. In a commentary in the New York Times three weeks ago, when the issue was coming to a head, Sanders concluded by writing, “Over the years, people of good will around the world, including Israelis, have tried to address this conflict in a way that brings justice for Palestinians and security for Israel. I, and some other members of Congress, have tried to do what we could. Obviously, we did not do enough. Now we must recommit to this effort. The stakes are just too high to give up.”
Then Sanders called for President Biden to cut proposed aid to Israel by $10.1 billion in a letter that called the Israeli military’s actions in Gaza a “mass atrocity” that the United States is complicit in.
“Israel’s military campaign will be remembered among some of the darkest chapters of our modern history,” Sanders wrote in his letter. “And it is being done with bombs and equipment produced and provided by the United States and heavily subsidized by American taxpayers. Tragically, we are complicit in this carnage.”
Sanders also asked Biden to support the humanitarian cease-fire resolution the United States recently vetoed in a meeting of the U.N. Security Council. “Long-term, I don’t know how you can have a permanent cease-fire when Hamas has made it very clear that that’s not what they want or believe in,” Sanders said. “And at the same time you have Netanyahu and his right-wing government wanting to continue the war. So I think it raises false hopes.”
Then, when the aid vote came, Sanders was the lone member of the Senate Democratic caucus to oppose advancing a $10.5 billion supplemental foreign aid measure on, expressing opposition to the bill’s unconditional military assistance for the Israeli government.
“I voted NO on the foreign aid supplemental bill today for one reason,” he said in a statement. “I do not believe that we should give the right-wing extremist Netanyahu government an additional $10.1 billion with no strings attached to continue their inhumane war against the Palestinian people.”
“Israel has the absolute right to defend itself against the Hamas terrorists who attacked them on October 7,” Sanders added. “They do not have the legal or moral right to kill thousands of innocent Palestinian men, women and children.”
This week, Sanders introduced a resolution in Congress to investigate Israel’s “indiscriminate bombing campaign in Gaza.” His stance has infuriated some of his former supporters and allies. But Sanders wants accountability.
According to his statement, the resolution was introduced a resolution under Section 502B© of the Foreign Assistance Act “to force a debate on the indiscriminate bombing being carried out by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s right-wing government.”
Sanders points out that the Foreign Assistance Act prohibits security assistance to any government “which engages in a consistent pattern of gross violations of internationally recognized human rights.” Section 502B© of this law allows Congress to request information on a country’s human rights practices — such requests are privileged, allowing the sponsor to force a floor vote on the requesting resolution.
If the resolution passes, the Department of State must submit the requested report within 30 days, or all security assistance to the country in question is cut off. After the report is received, Congress may then enact changes to condition, reduce, or terminate the security assistance in question. Both the initial vote to request the information and any subsequent votes to alter security assistance are privileged and require a simple majority for passage, according to the statement.
“The scale of the suffering in Gaza is unimaginable — it will be remembered among some of the darkest chapters of our modern history. This is a humanitarian cataclysm, and it is being done with American bombs and money. We need to face up to that fact — and then we need to end our complicity in those actions,” Sanders said.
With no end to the conflict in sight, Sanders may just be posturing for the sake of posturing. History will look back on this time, indeed. It likely will assign blame on many nations, including us. It will also will reveal the carnage of sacrifice — in body counts and politics.
