Left of the Dial

The Sanctity of Marriage

One of the few things that gives me at least a tiny bit of comfort is knowing that Ken Starr is going to burn in a lake of fire for all eternity. 

Not sure what the fact that I derive comfort from that says about the state of my own soul, of course. 

Better Than the Beatles

If not bigger. 

One Home Many Hopes

So Left o' the Dialian DT has a lil' brother who helped found the following project. 

After hearing about it, I asked if I could post the info here, since studies have shown the average LotDian has a heart more than three times the average size. And because all they're looking for is ten bucks--that's about two trips to Starbucks, or one fairly cheap happy hour. And you get a better return than the market, at least, so far this century. Top Management and I have already chipped in. So check it out, yo: 

This is a campaign called “One Home Many Hopes,” organized to ask people to consider donating $10 in an effort to raise $20,000 in 30 days.

”One Home Many Hopes” is a charity Jon Tapper, who owns a Public Relations firm in Boston called Melwood Global, helped put together last year after a good friend of his was moved to action by the poverty he saw in Mtwapa, Kenya.

In short, there is an orphanage, Mudzini Kwetu, which takes care of 35 girls, all of whom were rescued from the Mtwapa streets, where they searched through trash piles for food. Mudzini Kwetu not only gives these girls a home they didn't previously have, it has also given them a childhood.

So the gist is that we're trying to raise a lot of money - $20,000 - in tiny donations by November 23. People can become a part of it by visiting http://www.raceto20k.org/ to make a donation; as well as telling friends, families and colleagues about the effort.

They can also visit http://www.onehomemanyhopes.org/index.html to hear and learn more about this amazing organization.

There is absolutely no overhead for this charity -- every last penny you give you will go directly to the girls.

Thanks to everyone who considers participating.

Rocket Fuel in Our Drinking Water

I had planned to write more today about the largest welfare bill in history. For instance, did you know that President Ronald Reagan once said: 

''If you had a stack of $1,000 bills in your hand only four inches high, you'd be a millionaire. A trillion dollars would be a stack of $1,000 bills 67 miles high.''

Really takes the breath away, does it not? And that's pretty much the amount of cabbage they're debating up on the hill today. And that cash money's all coming from you and me, folks. Good times! 

I also thought about writing about the new spider web that appears in my car each morning and what a disconcerting way that is to start the day. 

And I've been meaning to write about my reappraisal of Wilco. 

But then I read this. And I think, to use a term my friends on the right enjoy using, that this goes beyond policy debates. I think the people who make these decisions have entered into the realm of Evil. 

I wish I were kidding. You read that headline and you think it must be from The Onion. 

If only. 

EPA won't limit rocket fuel in U.S. drinking water

WASHINGTON (AP) — The Environmental Protection Agency has decided there's no need to rid drinking water of a toxic rocket fuel ingredient that has fouled public water supplies around the country.

EPA reached the conclusion in a draft regulatory document not yet made public but reviewed Monday by The Associated Press.

The ingredient, perchlorate, has been found in at least 395 sites in 35 states at levels high enough to interfere with thyroid function and pose developmental health risks, particularly for babies and fetuses, according to some scientists.

The EPA document says that mandating a clean-up level for perchlorate would not result in a "meaningful opportunity for health risk reduction for persons served by public-water systems."

The conclusion, which caps years of dispute over the issue, was denounced by Democrats and environmentalists who accused EPA of caving to pressure from the Pentagon.

"This is a widespread contamination problem, and to see the Bush EPA just walk away is shocking," said Sen. Barbara Boxer, D-Calif., who chairs the Senate's environment committee.

Lenny Siegel, director of the Center for Public Environmental Oversight in Mountain View, Calif., added: "This is an unconscionable decision not based upon science or law but on concern that a more stringent standard could cost the government significantly."

The Defense Department used perchlorate for decades in testing missiles and rockets, and most perchlorate contamination is the result of defense and aerospace activities, congressional investigators said last year.

The Pentagon could face liability if EPA set a national drinking water standard that forced water agencies around the country to undertake costly clean-up efforts. Defense officials have spent years questioning EPA's conclusions about the risks posed by perchlorate.

The Pentagon objected strongly Monday to the suggestion that it sought to influence EPA's decision.

"We have not intervened in any way in EPA's determination not to regulate perchlorate. If you read their determination, that's based on criteria in the Safe Drinking Water Act," Paul Yaroschak, Pentagon deputy director for emerging contaminants, said in an interview.

Yaroschak said the Pentagon has been working for years to clean up perchlorate at its facilities. He also contended that the Pentagon wasn't the source of as much perchlorate contamination as once believed, noting that it also comes from fireworks, road flares and fertilizer.

Benjamin Grumbles, EPA's assistant administrator for water, said in a statement that "science, not the politics of fear in an election year, will drive our final decision."

"We know perchlorate in drinking water presents some degree of risk, and we're committed to working with states and scientists to ensure public health is protected and meaningful opportunities for reducing risk are fully considered," Grumbles said.

Grumbles said the EPA expected to seek comment and take final action before the end of the year. The draft document was first reported Monday by the Washington Post.

Perchlorate is particularly widespread in California and the Southwest, where it's been found in groundwater and in the Colorado River, a drinking-water source for 20 million people. It's also been found in lettuce and other foods.

In absence of federal action, states have acted on their own. In 2007, California adopted a drinking water standard of 6 parts per billion. Massachusetts has set a drinking water standard of 2 parts per billion.

God Angrily Clarifies 'Don't Kill' Rule

Religion 101.

God Angrily Clarifies 'Don't Kill' Rule

SEPTEMBER 26, 2001 | ISSUE 37•34

NEW YORK—Responding to recent events on Earth, God, the omniscient creator-deity worshipped by billions of followers of various faiths for more than 6,000 years, angrily clarified His longtime stance against humans killing each other Monday.

"Look, I don't know, maybe I haven't made myself completely clear, so for the record, here it is again," said the Lord, His divine face betraying visible emotion during a press conference near the site of the fallen Twin Towers. "Somehow, people keep coming up with the idea that I want them to kill their neighbor. Well, I don't. And to be honest, I'm really getting sick and tired of it. Get it straight. Not only do I not want anybody to kill anyone, but I specifically commanded you not to, in really simple terms that anybody ought to be able to understand."

Worshipped by Christians, Jews, and Muslims alike, God said His name has been invoked countless times over the centuries as a reason to kill in what He called "an unending cycle of violence."

"I don't care how holy somebody claims to be," God said. "If a person tells you it's My will that they kill someone, they're wrong. Got it? I don't care what religion you are, or who you think your enemy is, here it is one more time: No killing, in My name or anyone else's, ever again."

The press conference came as a surprise to humankind, as God rarely intervenes in earthly affairs. As a matter of longstanding policy, He has traditionally left the task of interpreting His message and divine will to clerics, rabbis, priests, imams, and Biblical scholars. Theologians and laymen alike have been given the task of pondering His ineffable mysteries, deciding for themselves what to do as a matter of faith. His decision to manifest on the material plane was motivated by the deep sense of shock, outrage, and sorrow He felt over the Sept. 11 violence carried out in His name, and over its dire potential ramifications around the globe.

"I tried to put it in the simplest possible terms for you people, so you'd get it straight, because I thought it was pretty important," said God, called Yahweh and Allah respectively in the Judaic and Muslim traditions. "I guess I figured I'd left no real room for confusion after putting it in a four-word sentence with one-syllable words, on the tablets I gave to Moses. How much more clear can I get?"

"But somehow, it all gets twisted around and, next thing you know, somebody's spouting off some nonsense about, 'God says I have to kill this guy, God wants me to kill that guy, it's God's will,'" God continued. "It's not God's will, all right? News flash: 'God's will' equals 'Don't murder people.'"

Worse yet, many of the worst violators claim that their actions are justified by passages in the Bible, Torah, and Qur'an.

"To be honest, there's some contradictory stuff in there, okay?" God said. "So I can see how it could be pretty misleading. I admit it—My bad. I did My best to inspire them, but a lot of imperfect human agents have misinterpreted My message over the millennia. Frankly, much of the material that got in there is dogmatic, doctrinal bullshit. I turn My head for a second and, suddenly, all this stuff about homosexuality gets into Leviticus, and everybody thinks it's God's will to kill gays. It absolutely drives Me up the wall."

God praised the overwhelming majority of His Muslim followers as "wonderful, pious people," calling the perpetrators of the Sept. 11 attacks rare exceptions.

"This whole medieval concept of the jihad, or holy war, had all but vanished from the Muslim world in, like, the 10th century, and with good reason," God said. "There's no such thing as a holy war, only unholy ones. The vast majority of Muslims in this world reject the murderous actions of these radical extremists, just like the vast majority of Christians in America are pissed off over those two bigots on The 700 Club."

Continued God, "Read the book: 'Allah is kind, Allah is beautiful, Allah is merciful.' It goes on and on that way, page after page. But, no, some assholes have to come along and revive this stupid holy-war crap just to further their own hateful agenda. So now, everybody thinks Muslims are all murderous barbarians. Thanks, Taliban: 1,000 years of pan-Islamic cultural progress down the drain."

God stressed that His remarks were not directed exclusively at Islamic extremists, but rather at anyone whose ideological zealotry overrides his or her ability to comprehend the core message of all world religions.

"I don't care what faith you are, everybody's been making this same mistake since the dawn of time," God said. "The Muslims massacre the Hindus, the Hindus massacre the Muslims. The Buddhists, everybody massacres the Buddhists. The Jews, don't even get me started on the hardline, right-wing, Meir Kahane-loving Israeli nationalists, man. And the Christians? You people believe in a Messiah who says, 'Turn the other cheek,' but you've been killing everybody you can get your hands on since the Crusades."

Growing increasingly wrathful, God continued: "Can't you people see? What are you, morons? There are a ton of different religious traditions out there, and different cultures worship Me in different ways. But the basic message is always the same: Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Shintoism... every religious belief system under the sun, they all say you're supposed to love your neighbors, folks! It's not that hard a concept to grasp."

"Why would you think I'd want anything else? Humans don't need religion or God as an excuse to kill each other—you've been doing that without any help from Me since you were freaking apes!" God said. "The whole point of believing in God is to have a higher standard of behavior. How obvious can you get?"

"I'm talking to all of you, here!" continued God, His voice rising to a shout. "Do you hear Me? I don't want you to kill anybody. I'm against it, across the board. How many times do I have to say it? Don't kill each other anymore—ever! I'm fucking serious!"

Upon completing His outburst, God fell silent, standing quietly at the podium for several moments. Then, witnesses reported, God's shoulders began to shake, and He wept.

Stephen Colbert’s The Wørd: Priceless

So my second-favorite Catholic had a piece last night which was great, even by his standards: 

Folks, everybody knows I’m a huge fan of market forces.  It’s always bugged me when people say you can’t put a monetary value on human life.  Of course you can!

That’s why I demand ransom for the release of my summer interns.  Pay up, mom and dad!

Well, it turns out there is an exact monetary value of human life.  It is a number calculated by government actuaries based on risk assessment and payroll figures that is used to decide whether life saving regulations are worth paying for.  For example, let’s say there’s proposed legislation that will require inspecting possibly tainted Chinese shrimp.  And, let’s further say that regulation would cost $100 million, and if you don’t inspect the shrimp, 100 people could die at a seafood restaurant.

Now, if you value…if you value those 100 people at a million dollars each, the benefit is equal to the cost, so the regulation’s worth it.  But, if you value them at less than a million dollars each, well, the cost outweighs the benefit.  Now, I happen to think—and this is just me—I happen to think tainted shrimp adds an element of danger to the appetizer course.  It’s like skydiving with cocktail sauce.

Now, the Environmental Protection Agency uses numbers like this to decide whether to regulate things like pollution.  And five years ago, they estimated that a human life was worth $7.8 million, but recently they lowered that to $6.9 million dollars.  

That’s right, under the Bush administration, human life has become a million dollars cheaper.   
 This…this is great news. Because the lower the value of human life, the less it pays to protect it with regulations.  That might be why last week the EPA chose not to regulate greenhouse gases.  It’s just not worth it with human life at such bargain basement prices.

But we can get those prices lower.

By devaluing life, they’ve made it less likely to regulate water and air quality.  And the worse the water and air quality get, the less life is worth living, which further devalues life, which makes it even less likely to regulate water and air quality.  It’s like the circle of life.  

And that’s great, that’s great.  You see, while they may have lowered the value of a person, the EPA has given us something worth a lot more.  Because a human life: $6.9 million; gaming the system to protect industry from safety regulations: Priceless.  

Stuff of Life

Just Outside the Big Tent

So. Some discussions on here last week would seem to indicate that things I think are incredibly obvious are perhaps only obvious if you’ve been so tremendously fortunate as to be reading Left of the Dial for some time. Which means when I unexpectedly get linked to and consequently get a couple hunnert new readers, they don’t realize my blistering snark is just a shield I put up to keep the world from realizing what a scared little boy I am deep down inside.

Or something like that.

Anyhoo, here’s a piece I first posted nearly two years ago, but mayhap it bears repeatedly every now and agin, albeit with minor tweaks because our fambly situation has changed slightly and, hey, I’m theoretically two years better at this bloggity thang.

It can be lonely being me.

I know what you’re thinking. How on earth can I, the idol of millions…thousands…hundreds? Okay, scores. Well, dozens. All right. One. The Boy idolizes me. I’ll take what I can get.

Anyhoo, how can I be lonely when my house is never less than seemingly packed to the rafters? It’s because I don’t fit in anywhere.

Now, I’m used to that. I didn’t fit in with my family much growing up. All four of my siblings were a year apart but then I was the youngest, three and a half years younger than brother John, a mighty big gap at that age. They were into sports. I was into reading and music. They were cool. I was a geek. They worked hard in school. I refused to do homework and, on one memorable occasion, simply refused to take a test.

(That one blew Dad’s mind. Looking back on it now, I can see why. But, I mean, seriously, who the hell cared what Uruguay’s major exports were? Other than Uruguayans and those who wanted to import stuff from Uruguay? At the age of thirteen, I most certainly did not fit into any of those categories.)

Later, my remarkable propensity to avoid doing work actually led the Dean of Students at my college to explain that I wasn’t allowed to come back the next semester, largely owing to the 1.2 GPA I’d achieved—that remarkable number translates to three C’s and two F’s for those keeping score at home. The dean "suggested" I take some time off and decide if I really wanted to be a student. After working two jobs, one of them literally digging ditches, something to which I was very much not physically suited, and taking three classes at a branch of UConn, even knowing the credits wouldn’t transfer, and being cut off from all my high school and college friends, I thought, oh yeah—I really, really want to be a college student.

But I digress. My point being that none of my college friends failed out of college. None of my high school friends failed out of college. And my siblings damn sure didn’t fail out of college.

I’ve never had a friend who liked Shostakovich. Or one who really dug Miles. Or Sonic Youth.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I’m on some desert island friendically. I’ve had friends who loved the Beatles and Bruce Springsteen and U2. I’ve had plenty of friends who love Monty Python and Batman and Scrubs and going for long drives where you try to get lost and then try to find your way back home again.

But I’ve never had a friend who quite clicked totally. Hell, I’ve never even met someone who did, much less liked them. Although, obviously, if I had, they would have liked me. I mean, that goes without saying, right? Right.

Here’s the thing. I’m about as left-wing a liberal as they come. I’m not just pro-environment (polls consistently show that the overwhelming majority of even Republicans are greener than the Democratic party, never mind their own party), I actually used to work for an environmentalist lobbying group; that’s right, I was one of them annoying folks what showed up at your door at dinner time to tell you how polluted your local river was and can I have some money to help fix it? (And I got it too—and, interestingly, the batting average got way higher the less wealthy the neighborhood; you didn’t need to tell these blue-collar joes their river was polluted since they’d been fishing it for fifty years and had seen the difference.)

I’ve never gotten stoned, never even seen the majority of drugs and yet I’m all for the legalization of them, believing our drug policy is unbelievably asinine, does nothing but hurt innocents and enriches the evil and powerful and all stems historically from a big business playing on racism to achieve their own nefarious ends. I’m for incredibly strict gun control. I’m against any kind of censorship.

I believe there’s not one compelling case to be made for the death penalty, ethically, morally, economically or practically, and at least a half-dozen strong cases against it. I’m for affirmative action, believing that the American Dream isn’t achievable if we don’t all start from the same point and that, alas, at this point in our history we’re still not close to all being there yet.

I’m for higher and progressive taxation believing not just that the more you have the more you owe morally but in addition that the more you benefit economically from others also being raised up. I’m in favor of gay rights which, really, just mean making sure they have the same rights as any other American and not special rights as is sometimes erroneously and maliciously claimed. If I’m leaving any major issues out, it’s probably safe to assume I’m with my liberal brethren on that too.

Except for one. I’m pro-life. I’m all about the civil liberties and who’s more in need of protection than those who can’t protect themselves?

And if you think being a fan of Shostakovich and Sonic Youth can get lonely, it’s nothing compared to being a pro-life Democrat.

All of my liberal friends are pro-choice. All my pro-life friends are conservatives. And the thing is, it’s easy to find pro-choice conservatives: the worst of both worlds, as that means they’re wrong about absolutely everything. The one thing—the one damn thing—their party gets right and that’s the issue they depart on. Never fails. People, man.

This means that I know whenever I post anything other than a cute story about the kids, I’m almost guaranteed to bore or piss off a goodly percentage of Left of the Dial’s regular readers. Pal Dave asked me if that ever makes me nervous. It doesn’t exactly make me nervous but it doesn’t make me happy either. I guess maybe it bums me out a little, but hey. There’re worse things. It is what it is and I yam what I yam. What can I say? As Van the Man said, and Paul Westerberg later echoed, it’s too late to turn back now. (Here we go.)

So. If you sometimes wonder why I’m such a curmudgeonly bastard, maybe this is at least part of the reason. It’s because I don’t really fit in anywhere and never have. There are lots of folks with whom I agree on this, that or t’other thang, but no one in this entire world I match up with perfectly.

Well, except, of course for Top Management. We may and do live pretty damn near the poverty line. But at least there’s one person in this whole wide world who gets me, gets how I can be down with most of the Greenpeace agenda and yet against Planned Parenthood, how I’m with Alito on Roe v. Wade yet wish he weren’t such a lying bastard and wish he hadn’t gotten confirmed because, in general, I think our Supreme Court justices shouldn’t be lying bastards who’ll say absolutely anything to get a gig as this jerk clearly is and clearly did. She groks how I’m all for stem cell research but against embryonic stem cell research even though I’ve got two kids who it’s not inconceivable (no pun intended) could benefit from that research. She understands that our pro-life acquaintances are too religious for my tastes and that our liberal friends are so tragically misguided on this one.

So it’s just the two of us. Which means it’s still kinda lonely sometimes. But at least we get to be lonely together. And since there’s nothing else I’d rather do than be with her, even if it means we’re being lonely together, that’s okay.

So if there’s anyone out there who doesn’t have someone to be lonely with, there’s my Christmakwanzakah Wish for you—that you find someone you can be lonely with. Having someone huddling in the bunker with you makes everything bearable. And sometimes a whole, whole lot better’n that.

Now I just gotta work on getting her to appreciate Miles. Or at least Shostakovich. Sonic Youth, I’m thinkin’, is a bridge too far. But one can always hope. After all, what are the odds I’d have found her in the first place? And what are the odds that she’d be so perfect and yet still have this one weird blind spot and fall for me? If that can happen, just about anything can.

JAGs: Waterboarding Is Torture

Senator Patrick Leahy from Vermont isn’t just a big Batman fan—although he’s that too. He’s also the chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee. Which is why he received this letter from four former JAGs:

Dear Chairman Leahy,

In the course of the Senate Judiciary Committee’s consideration of President Bush’s nominee for the post of Attorney General, there has been much discussion, but little clarity, about the legality of “waterboarding” under United States and international law. We write Because this issue above all demands clarity: Waterboarding is inhumane, it is torture, and it is illegal.

In 2006 the Senate Judiciary Committee held hearings on the authority to prosecute terrorists under the war crimes provisions of Title 18 of the U.S. Code. In connection with those hearings the sitting Judge Advocates General of the military services were asked to submit written responses to a series of questions regarding “the use of a wet towel and dripping water to induce the misperception of drowning (i.e., waterboarding) . . .” Major General Scott Black, U.S. Army Judge Advocate General, Major General Jack Rives, U.S. Air Force Judge Advocate General, Rear Admiral Bruce MacDonald, U.S. Navy Judge Advocate General, and Brigadier Gen. Kevin Sandkuhler, Staff Judge Advocate to the Commandant of the U.S. Marine Corps, unanimously and unambiguously agreed that such conduct is inhumane and illegal and would constitute a violation of international law, to include Common Article 3 of the 1949 Geneva Conventions.

We agree with our active duty colleagues. This is a critically important issue - but it is not, and never has been, a complex issue, and even to suggest otherwise does a terrible disservice to this nation. All U.S. Government agencies and personnel, and not just America’s military forces, must abide by both the spirit and letter of the controlling provisions of international law. Cruelty and torture - no less than wanton killing - is neither justified nor legal in any circumstance. It is essential to be clear, specific and unambiguous about this fact - as in fact we have been throughout America’s history, at least until the last few years. Abu Ghraib and other notorious examples of detainee abuse have been the product, at least in part, of a self-serving and destructive disregard for the well-established legal principles applicable to this issue. This must end.

The Rule of Law is fundamental to our existence as a civilized nation. The Rule of Law is not a goal which we merely aspire to achieve; it is the floor below which we must not sink. For the Rule of Law to function effectively, however, it must provide actual rules yhat can be followed. In this instance, the relevant rule - the law - as long been clear: Waterboarding detainees amounts to illegal torture in all circumstances. To suggest otherwise - or even to give credence to such a suggestion - represents both an affront to the law and to the core values of our nation.

We respectfully urge you to consider these principles in connection with the nomination of Judge Mukasey.

Sincerely,

Rear Admiral Donald J. Guter, United States Navy (Ret.)

Judge Advocate General of the Navy, 2000-02

Rear Admiral John D. Hutson, United States Navy (Ret.)

Judge Advocate General of the Navy, 1997-2000

Major General John L. Fugh, United States Army (Ret.)

Judge Advocate General of the Army, 1991-93

Brigadier General David M. Brahms, United States Marine Corps (Ret.)

Staff Judge Advocate to the Commandant, 1985-88

Pretty much says it all, doesn’t it?

It’s really not complicated. We prosecuted both Nazis and Japanese after World War II for waterboarding Americans. It was illegal then. It’s illegal now.

It’s not complicated.

Balancing

Just read this today and since I'm quite sure very few of my regular readers would have stumbled across it, I thought I'd post it here. Normally I'd excerpt it, but there's really no way to do so and still do it justice.

My Friend Peter
By: Ian Welsh

Peter was the kindest man I ever met. I moved into his old house one winter in the early nineties. Rent was $235/month, there was a shared kitchen and showers and 7 tenants. On the ground floor lived the landlord - Peter, and his Japanese wife.

I lived there three years. They were thin, cold years for me. Sometimes I was employed - as a bike courier; a dispatcher, a mover; a baker; a painter, or anything else I could find. Other times I scrabbled from day job to day job, helping anyone who needed it for cash on the barrelhead. There were some grim months on welfare; some trips to the food bank, even a few meals at the soup kitchen. I was rousted a couple times by rent-a-cops as “undesirable” (read: looking like a bum.)

My clothes were threadbare, and I would look in the mirror and I could already see myself at fifty, living the same hand to mouth, job-to-job life.

Through it all two people helped me; two people stuck by me and never made me feel worthless. One of them was Peter. Peter let me work a lot of my rent off with jobs around the house. I painted this or that, under careful suprvision I did plumbing work; I shoveled snow; and I laid bricks. Peter taught me how to learn - he’d show me how to do something, tell me to “do it right, and take your time, because if you do it fast first you’ll never ever do it right.” And those months when I was late on rent; those months when I was mortified to be on welfare - he cut me slack and he never made me feel small.

Peter was old. He had been born in Germany. And he had fought for Hitler.

He liked to talk about his life; and quite a life it had been. He’d been a spy for the CIA after the fall, till the day his handler cut him loose when he was fleeing from what would become East Germany pursued by Soviet troops. “Not willing to risk an incident” said his handler. “Not willing to keep spying for you,” said Peter. He had been a stage manager; had been Volkswagen’s chief North American tester; had been a translator and had broken codes, among many many other things.

Peter said, and I believed, that his family had been opposed to the Nazis. His father was a VP in Siemens and when Peter was caught, at a youth camp, listening to Allied broadcasts, he was able to save his son and have him assigned as an aide to a prison camp (no, not that type of prison camp) commandant. While there Peter got himself in more trouble and wound up in the camp jail for a couple of days. The cells in that camp faced each other, with a row of bars in between. The prisoner across from him was gypsy man and they spent two days playing cards and talking. At the end of it, the prisoner said, “today I will be hung as a partisan. You seem like a good man so I want to ask you if after the war you will go tell my people.”

Peter agreed, and the gypsy continued. “They think I am a partisan leader - someone other than I am. I haven’t told them I’m wrong. What I want you to do, after the war, is go tell my people that I died for this man.”

As the war ground on, the Germans began to run into severe manpower shortages. Young teenagers Peter’s age were drafted and sent into occupation duties, where they served alongside older veterans. Peter was drafted and sent to France.

He said there was very little real resistance in the district he was in (or, as far as he could tell, most of France) - just one sniper they chased in desultory fashion and never caught - the chasing mostly involving staying absolutely silent and still at night while waiting for a muzzle flash to aim at.

One day he went through a French hospital town. Because it was used to care for injured soldiers it had never been bombed. While there he and a comrade saw Allied bombers overhead. The French pointed up and said “look, our planes!” Peter screamed at them to get into the bomb shelters, but most of them didn’t. After all, they were their planes. Peter and his friend got in - then the bombs started falling. A lot of the French who had wondered at their planes didn’t survive that day.

He also went through Dresden the day after the bombing. But he never described what he saw there to me.

I asked Peter why he left Germany and emigrated to Canada. His reply was “everyone pretended they didn’t know what had been going on. We all knew. I couldn’t live there anymore.”

I lived with Peter for 3 years and when I left he told me two things - one was a piece of advice on living life “never do the same job for more than 5 years, Ian, you won’t be happy if you do.” (He was right, as I found out the hard way. Wisdom, they say, is learning from other people’s mistakes. I’ve never been wise).

The second thing he said was “my family has a custom where ever year we pick out someone to help and do so for the entire year, and sometimes longer. We know we do harm all the time. It’s not balance. But we hope it makes up.”

But it wasn’t just one person. I never saw Peter act meanly, or unkindly. I never saw him treat anyone but with dignity. I never saw anyone who needed a kindness Peter could give who didn’t get it.

That man, who fought for Hitler, might have been the best man I’ve ever met.