|Evanston mural, by Shawn Bullen|
Bees can see ultraviolet light. Betcha didn’t know that. Their eyes—and bees have five of them—process wavelengths humans can’t, meaning bees can literally see colors that people can’t imagine, detecting patterns on flowers beyond human perception.
If we were to consider the entire spectrum of electromagnetic radiation, with big loping radio waves at one end, and frantic tiny gamma waves at the other, the range that people can see—visible light—is a small section. We exist in a sea of information we don’t know is there.
No shame in that. Everybody doesn’t see something. Most things. And when I step back from the American political scene— like the restful, stay-at-home vacation last week—it’s a blessed relief to focus on other concerns. I tracked the impeachment of Donald Trump out of the corner of one eye, and didn’t watch a second of the proceedings.
So much buzzing. So much noise and frantic activity. Very hive like, although that’s an insult to bees, famous for their industry and courage: stout-hearted warriors “in their waxen kingdoms,” as Virgil calls them in “Georgics.”
I didn’t watch the impeachment because I already saw, in stark relief, what House Democrats were laboriously trying to establish: Trump withheld military aid to Ukraine trying to blackmail its president into announcing a sham investigation into Joe Biden and his son. That isn’t a murky mystery. The facts are right there. Trump himself admitted it.
Yet none of this is perceived by Trump supporters. Point directly at the treachery and they stare blankly, as if gazing into empty space. Or they see a mirage: Bill Clinton spinning his relationship with Monica Lewinsky, as if that’s somehow relevant. They look at Donald Trump and see a Christ-like figure. “The Chosen One” in former Secretary of Energy Rick Perry’s term
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