Words and Actions Matter

Posted on September 5, 2026 by Brian H. Gill
Charles Forbell's 'Club Life in America: the Stockbrokers' Cartoon from Judge Magazine. (November 1929)
1920s: good times, until they weren’t.

My father grew up west of Chicago: first on a farm, then in Rockford, Illinois.

His family moving to Rockford wasn’t so much a matter of seeking a better way of life, as bad weather and worse economics forcing them off their farm.

Then they experienced what we call the Great Depression. And that’s another topic. Topics, actually.1 (You might enjoy reading what I said in footnote 1. Then again, maybe not. 🙂 )

‘You Can Do So Much More’

In the years leading up to World War II, my father was just another Irish kid in Rockford’s schools. That’s when an English teacher asked him about his plans.

He hadn’t given the matter much thought, but he did have a plan. He figured he’d graduate from high school. Then he’d get a job in the watch factory.2 After that, he’d work until he died or retired, whichever came first.

It strikes me as a good plan, given his circumstances.

The English teacher wasn’t so sure.

‘Oh, Bernard’, she said, ‘you can do so much more’.

I see her point. My father’s smart, articulate, observant, and intensely interested in everything. So am I, and I’m drifting off-topic again.

Many decades later, he told me that his English teacher’s words got him thinking about a future that didn’t include working in the watch factory.

Either way, he’d probably have included ROTC in his high school experience.3 As I said, he’s smart and observant. It’d been obvious that a major war was brewing, so getting prepped as an officer made sense.

But including college in his plans — that’s an idea he said wouldn’t have occurred to him, if an English teacher hadn’t seen more than just another Irish kid in him.

He didn’t entirely turn his back on watches, by the way. The top of a dresser in his basement study was nearly covered by pocket watches.

Actions and Outcomes

My father would probably have had a good life, if he’d followed through with his watch factory plan. But then he wouldn’t have met my mother. And I wouldn’t be here, writing about what his English teacher said. So I’m glad that conversation happened.

The point of all this, if there is one, is that what we say and do matters.

Sometimes it’s pretty obvious.

If I heave a rock toward someone’s window, for example, broken glass and an irate homeowner are a near-certain result. Telling the homeowner it was an accident probably won’t help.

Sometimes we can’t know what will happen. Not clearly.

My father’s English teacher almost certainly didn’t see that he’d have a short career as a teacher, and a much longer one as a librarian. And I don’t think anyone saw me coming. Other than God, of course, and that’s yet another topic or three.

Since what we do and say matters, I figure that saying and doing what makes sense is a good idea. That’s obvious, but it’s still a good idea.

I’ve talked about my father, responsibility, and vaguely-related stuff, before:

1 The 1929 crash had roots — as usual, it’s complicated. The investor/economic angle has been exhaustively hashed, rehashed, reheated, and served with various viewpoints as seasoning.

I’m reasonably sure that bad weather and resulting food production issues were also a factor.

That’s an idea I got from my father, back when he spent as much time as he ethically could at the reference desk, reading whatever he pulled from the shelves when he wasn’t answering questions (“Early Diagnosis, Tardy Treatment, and a Gimpy Hip” (January 25, 2025) Shock at the Reference Desk). This would have been during the 1950s, 1960s and early 1970s.

While writing this post, I looked for authoritative online resources discussing North America’s weather/climate in the 1920s. This is what I found:

With time and effort, I might find more local and regional meteorological records for the period which are both online and not behind a paywall. But weather and climate during the 1920s doesn’t seem to be a particularly hot topic, and I’m running out of time this week. Besides, I’m in my mid-70s, and don’t have the energy of a 40-year-old kid.

2 Nearly a century later, here’s what I found about timepieces and Rockford, Illinois:

3 ROTC:

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Night Watch, Paying Attention, and My Father

Posted on August 29, 2026 by Brian H. Gill
Technical drawing of a U.S. Navy World War II-tank landing ship (LST). (1959) From U.S. Navy All Hands magazine September 1959, pp. 32-33; United States Navy. Via Wikipedia.
U.S. Navy WWII LST (Landing Ship Tank), from All Hands magazine..

My father, Bernard Ives Gill, was a Lieutenant J.G. on an LST during World War II. One of his duties was standing watch on the bridge. Being a rather junior officer, he often got the night watches.

On one of these, both he and the sailor at the helm were experiencing the wakeful serenity of duty. Below, the ocean streamed by. Above, stars slowly rolled around the pole as hours passed and the convoy sailed towards its destination.

Then they noticed that the stern of the ship ahead of them looked a lot bigger than it should have.

A Little Background: Signal Cables and the Captain’s Cabin

“LST” stands for Landing Ship Tank. Each LST was very roughly as long as a football field and weighed well over a thousand tons.

The things were not particularly maneuverable.

Signal cables or chains ran from the bridge to the engine room passed right by the captain’s cabin. Being mechanical connections, they made quite a racket when someone on the bridge signaled the engine room, and someone in the engine room rang the repeater to acknowledge the order.

During night watches, it was customary for slight adjustments in power needed to keep the ship in position to be carried by a runner from the bridge to the engine room as written messages. That way, the captain could have a good night’s sleep.

Back to that quiet night watch.

Oops

Both my father and the sailor at the helm hadn’t noticed that the stern of the ship ahead of them had been getting bigger. Not until they were too close for comfort.

And not until in was too late to send a runner.

The ship’s engines had to be re-set: fast!

I gather that the repeater cables rattling/clanking/banging in the captain’s cabin brought him sharply awake. Naturally, he was curious as to why the sudden maneuver was necessary.

I don’t know what happened after that. My father would only say that he was embarrassed, and that the captain wasn’t pleased.

So What?

An obvious point to this story is that situational awareness is a good idea. So is correcting mistakes, even when it’s embarrassing.

I could rattle on about war, peace, high ideals and all that. But I’ve discussed that sort of thing before:

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Ducks

Posted on August 22, 2026 by Brian H. Gill
Brian H. Gill's photo: sunset, seen from the north room window, 8:07-8:08 p.m.. (August 20, 2026)
Sunset here in Sauk Centre: no ducks, just a nice photo. (August 20, 2026)

Ducks haven’t been a major part of my life, but our paths have crossed now and again.

Once, for example, I was driving north of Moorhead, Minnesota on — I’m not sure what its name was then. These days it’s called 57th Avenue N, CSAH 22, or 40th Avenue N; depending on which stretch of pavement you’re on.

Anyway, on its way toward the Red River,the road went through a cluster of homes. It was like those housing developments that popped up after WWII. Except that the houses weren’t all alike, and there were trees.

I gather this is because folks had built their homes piecemeal. Most of them apparently liked trees, and had varying notions of what their house should look like.

It wasn’t a monument to urban design, but I liked the result. Particularly compared to what happens when a developer clear-cuts land, plops housing units on what’s left, and I’m drifting off-topic.

Just Me and Some Ducks

This particular duck encounter happened when I was still living in Moorhead. I’d been driving to Fargo and decided to take the long way, on — whatever the road was called.

I was still driving between fields, maybe a thousand feet from the houses and trees, when I saw something in the middle of the road. It was a duck, waddling deliberately down the road’s centerline.

So there I was, sharing a road with a duck. With decisions to make.

It’s not the sort of situation discussed in the Minnesota Driver’s Manual. Not specifically, at any rate. So I was on my own, without official guidance, facing a duck.

There wasn’t anyone else in sight, just me and the duck.

I stopped the car and watched the duck. And my rear-view mirror, of course: so I wouldn’t be blocking the road for someone else.

As soon as I stopped, the duck turned its head — to look at me, I’m guessing.

It paused, then turned again, so it faced the grass growing by the road. I couldn’t hear it quack, but saw its bill open and close. Then the duck did a quick about-face and scooted for the left side of the road, with a brood of ducklings racing after it.

Within seconds, mama duck and her ducklings were out of sight in the tall grass.

I waited a few moments, making sure there wasn’t a straggler still in the grass to my right, and then drove on.

Animals

I’m none too fond of mosquitoes, ticks, and leeches. But by and large I like animals, and think they should be treated humanely. That’s something I didn’t need to change when I became a Catholic. I’ve talked about animals, priorities, and somewhat-related matters before:

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Voting, Voter Resources, Faith, and Me

Posted on August 15, 2026 by Brian H. Gill
😉 “I Voted”: another election, another sticker. 😉

It was a bit past one when I voted in Minnesota’s primaries this Tuesday. Two of the three election judges were checking off other voters when I got there.

Verifying that I was a registered voter went smoothly. I gave my name, the election judge saw that I was me, and that was that. Sauk Centre is a small town, and I’ve lived here — probably longer than you’ve been alive.

Voting is something I’ll do again, come November. To the extent that it gets me out of the house and occasionally lets me chat with folks, I enjoy the process.

It’s also part of acting as if what I believe matters. I’ve been talking about that for quite a while, off and on, including this, from about a decade back:

“…Being a good citizen, contributing to the good of society and taking part in public life, is part of being Catholic: or should be. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1915, 2239)

In my country, that includes voting intelligently: thinking about issues and candidates, voting for whoever and whatever is best; or likely to do the least damage, in some cases.

Panel from Wiley Miller's 'Non Sequitur', referencing television content before an election. (September 6, 2015))

This isn’t a ‘political’ blog, so I won’t be claiming that one candidate walks on water, or that another is a spawn of Satan; or claim that God votes a party ticket.

I occasionally share what I think about immigrants, private property, and other ‘political’ issues. Depending on what part of which post you look at, I could be pegged as conservative or liberal….”
(“Love, Neighbors, and Voting” (October 1, 2016))

Deciding who and what to vote for: that’s where voting stops being a pleasant break in routine and starts being a less-than-pleasant civic duty. Or would, if I did the heavy lifting involved in that task.

This time around, as usual, I brought along a cheat sheet my wife had drawn up. We’re both very ‘Catholic’, and she’s both less emotional and more informed about candidates and issues: particularly the local and regional ones. I trust her judgement.

I’m taking it easy — easier than usual — this week, so I’ll just sketch out how being a Catholic affects being a citizen, share an updated link list of resources, link to what I’ve said about this sort of thing: and call it a day.

Faith and Citizenship

Rembrandt's ink sketch: 'Jesus and the adulteress'. (ca. 1639-41)

Being a Catholic and a citizen is very simple, and incredibly difficult.

I have to think that every human being is a person, with a share of humanity’s “transcendent dignity”. That’s everybody — NO EXCEPTIONS. Age, health, who our ancestors are, what we’ve done: none of that makes someone a non-person. We’re all, each of us, a person: someone made “in the image of God”. (Genesis 1:26–27, 2:7; Catechism of the Catholic Church, 355-357, 361, 369-370, 1700, 1730, 1929, 2258-2283)

Like I said, simple. And, at least for me, very difficult.

Basically, my obligation is to love God, love my neighbors, and see everyone as my neighbor. Always. (Matthew 5:43–44, 22:36–40; Mark 12:28–31; Luke 6:31, 10:25–27, 29–37; Catechism, 2196)

Getting back to voting, that’s part of how my native culture works.

Voting, responsibly, is part of our public life. Or should be. Since I’m a Catholic, that makes it an obligation. Along with recognizing humanity’s solidarity and respecting authority. Within reason. (Catechism, 1778, 1915, 1897-1917, 1939-1942, 2199, 2238-2243)

Voting Responsibly: Resources

Image: cover of USCCB's 'Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship'. (Copyright 2007, 2011, 2015, 2019, 2023)

Good news, the USCCB (United States Conference of Bishops) provides a pretty good set of resources, explaining why voting for the candidate with the nicest haircut may not be a good idea.

Frustrating news, the USCCB’s website isn’t entirely stable. They may have reasons for changing the URLs of resources and not updating their own pages to reflect the changes, but — well, that’s my problem.

These links were valid on the afternoon of August 13, 2026:

Faith Matters, Or Should

Louis M. Glackens' cartoon in Puck: 'The Yellow Press'. William Randolph Hearst as a jester tossing newspapers with headlines such as 'Appeals to Passion, Venom, Sensationalism, Attacks on Honest Officials, Strife, Distorted News, Personal Grievance, Misrepresentation' to a crowd of eager readers, among them an anarchist assassinating a politician speaking from a platform draped with American flags; on the left, men labeled 'Man who buys the comic supplement for the kids, Businessman, Gullible Reformer, Advertiser, and Decent Citizen' carry bags of money that they dump into Hearst's printing press'. Puck (NY) (October 12, 1910)
Problematic news isn’t new. (1910)
See “Truth, Beauty, and the Evening News” (June 15, 2024)

There. I’ve found valid links to arguably-useful voter resources, and outlined how my beliefs affect how I try to act.

Now it’s time for me to say I’ve talked about this sort of thing before, and share links you can follow — or not, although I think you’d find some of it interesting:

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AI, “Magnifica Humanitas”, Thomas Aquinas, and Me

Posted on August 8, 2026 by Brian H. Gill
Dik Browne's 'Hagar the Horrible:' 'It may be the end of civilization as we know it.' (February 25, 1973)
Dik Browne’s “It may be the end of civilization as we know it.” (February 25, 1973)

Pope Leo XIV’s “Magnifica Humanitas” (on safeguarding the human person in the time of artificial intelligence) came out in May.

I didn’t expect it to be a fast read, and I was right. In English, it runs to nearly 38,000 words, not counting footnotes.

I still haven’t read it, but have glanced through the thing. Now I’ve started reading, a bit at a time, equipped with a marker: and coffee.

Early on, I ran into these thoughts:

“…Technology should not be considered, in itself, as a force antagonistic to humanity. On the contrary, it has formed part of our history since the beginning as ‘a profoundly human reality, linked to the autonomy and freedom of man.’ [Benedict XVI, Encyclical Letter Caritas in Veritate (29 June 2009), 69: AAS 101 (2009), 702.]…

“…’Never has humanity had such power over itself.’ [Francis, Encyclical Letter Laudato Si ‘ (24 May 2015), 104: AAS 107 (2015), 888.] New technologies open up a horizon extending in directions that are imaginable but not yet fully predictable. This complicates the assessment of their potential impact and the long-term effects they may have on both the dignity of individuals and the common good….”
(“Magnifica Humanitas” — on safeguarding the human person in the time of artificial intelligence, Pope Leo XIV (May 15, 2026)) [emphasis mine]

Telephone, Television: Technological Terrors??

Ford Beebe, Saul A. Goodkind, George Plympton and Basil Dickeyvia's malevolent marauding mechanical monster from 'The Phantom Creeps'. (1939) via David S. Zondy's 'Tales of Future Past' http://davidszondy.com/futurepast/
(‘EEK! New technology!!
“The Phantom Creeps” (1939:))

I’ve seen quite a few new technologies become widely used; and, for some, feared.

In my youth, telephone service was becoming as widely available as the Internet was a few years ago. Quite a few years, actually.

I don’t think anyone really said ‘kids these days don’t communicate, they just sit around for hours, talking on the telephone’. But misgivings about the newfangled tech were common enough for that to be a joke.

Television was another new technology threatening the very foundations of civilization. I’ll freely grant that much of the programming wasn’t what I’d watch. But I don’t think that everything would have been beer and skittles, if only we hadn’t been exposed to “I Love Lucy” and “Leave It to Beaver”.

The Internet — I’ve talked about that before, and I’ll admit a bias.

I like being able to access more information, faster, from archives I’d never have been able to reach in my youth.

Some folks misuse this technology, but I don’t miss the days when swindlers used the want ads instead of online markets. It’s different now, but not significantly different.

These days, AI — artificial intelligence — is among the top favorite new bogeymen.

Over the last few years, I’ve read that it’ll destroy creativity, take our jobs, puree our brains and generally make everything icky.

I’m not convinced.

On the other hand, my oldest daughter and I have exchanged words over some of the more egregious and inept efforts to use AI while cranking out alleged art. And that’s another topic or two. Or three, or — Actually, it’s a lot of topics.

Basically, I see AI as a new technology: one which each of us can use to help or hurt others; or decide not to use at all.

Tech Isn’t the Problem

Detail, Gentile da Fabriano's 'Coronation of the Virgin,' gable painting, right inner panel, showing St. Thomas Aquinas.' (ca. 1400)

The point is, each of us decides what we do — or don’t do — with technology.

It’s sort of like how St. Thomas Aquinas saw animals that can hurt us.

“In the words of Augustine (Super. Gen. contr. Manich. i): ‘If an unskilled person enters the workshop of an artificer he sees in it many appliances of which he does not understand the use, and which, if he is a foolish fellow, he considers unnecessary. Moreover, should he carelessly fall into the fire, or wound himself with a sharp-edged tool, he is under the impression that many of the things there are hurtful; whereas the craftsman, knowing their use, laughs at his folly. And thus some people presume to find fault with many things in this world, through not seeing the reasons for their existence. For though not required for the furnishing of our house, these things are necessary for the perfection of the universe.’ And, since man before he sinned would have used the things of this world conformably to the order designed, poisonous animals would not have injured him.”
(“The Summa Theologica,” First Part, Question 72. The work of the sixth day; St. Thomas Aquinas (unfinished at his death in 1274)) [emphasis mine]

“…Now action is properly ascribed, not to the instrument, but to the principal agent, as building is ascribed to the builder, not to his tools. Hence it is evident that use is, properly speaking, an act of the will….”
(“The Summa Theologica,” First Part of the Second Part, Question 16. Use, which is an act of the will in regard to the means; Article 1; St. Thomas Aquinas (unfinished at his death in 1274)) [emphasis mine]

Seems to me that St. Aquinas gave each of us credit for having brains: and that using our brains, or not, was a choice each of us makes. Is that a drastic oversimplification? Yes. But I think it covers an important point.

One takeaway from these excerpts is that learning at least the basics of being “an artificer” before using tech is a good idea. So is learning self-awareness, and that’s a truckload of topics I don’t have time for this week.

Make that energy and focus. I’ve had the same seven days I get each week. Well, not the same days, but the same duration.

Time to wrap this up.

Using Technology Wisely: Or Not

WiNG's photo of the Beijing Television Cultural Center fire. (February 9, 2009) via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.
Common sense and safety protocols put on hold: Beijing. (2009)

I don’t think AI is a completely safe, foolproof technology.

No technology is so safe and foolproof that someone can’t misuse it. Even something as basic as fire, something we’ve used for well upwards of a million years, is a problem when someone goofs.1

I see AI as just another technology: a tool which each of us may use, misuse, or ignore. Considering AI’s potential, ignoring it seems — silly, at best.

Using AI wisely? That’s why I’ve been dabbling with the freebies available, and will keep reading “Magnifica Humanitas”: a few paragraphs at a time.

I’m in no hurry with the latter, since one of my daughters said she’d seen many informed commentaries on the encyclical letter back in May and June. One of these days I should learn more about her corner of social media. And that’s — you guessed it — another topic.

San Francisco’s BART. (1972)

I’ve talked about AI, technology, and why I’m not in a blind panic before:

1 Fire; among our first technologies, and still not ‘safe’:

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