What are we fighting for?” Country Joe’s Vietnam-era protest anthem echoes into the present as the U.S. edges closer to another Middle East war. From Vietnam to Gaza to Iran, the justifications change but the logic remains—fear, honor, revenge, and national ego. An essay on how old wars never really end; they just find new names.

From the ruins of ancient Greece to the rubble of modern wars, the hubris–nemesis complex still haunts us. When pride hardens into certainty and power silences doubt, downfall follows. This essay explores how arrogance becomes pathology—and why humility remains humanity’s last defense against self-destruction.

Why does your brain cling to bad news? Why do worries feel so real—even when nothing's happening? This new post explains how our minds evolved to protect us, but sometimes go into overdrive. Understanding this is the first step toward peace.

David McCullough He squeezed through the line and said with a gentle smile, “Excuse me,” sterling blues looking up an inch or so at me. Well-coiffed white hair, thick arched eyebrows, wearing a blue sportscoat, his wife followed him, also well-coiffed and in a simple classic gray dress. The crowd, bending around the corner and down the block had come to see him talk. It was October 2015. He and his wife disappeared into the foyer of the small college town theater. In minutes

U.S. leaders are doubling down on secrecy after war plans were leaked via a Signal chat. A look at the fallout, denial, and blurred lines of power.

Trump’s fearless, unfiltered leadership was on full display in the Oval Office showdown with Zelensky. Bold or reckless? You decide.

Democrats struggle for substance and direction, contrasting classic liberalism and progressivism at a political crossroads.

Shakendra stuck her hand out to shake, all 5 foot 2 of her and said, “Mr. Gee, you been the best white teacher I ever had. Sorry I been so  bad this year. But… you been real.”  We both chuckled at the inside joke of being real. During the course of the long school year and in my class made up of adolescents, whenever I’d get too wordy, someone would suggest to, Keep it real.  Wally Gable, the class loudmouth, would say, “Mr. McGee there you go again talking college. We are ba

My friend’s older sister died. I rang him up at his Connecticut home.  Rich, melodic, ”Hello.”   “It’s McGee,” I said.  “Hey.” I got to the subject. “I heard Val died. I'm so sorry.”  Pause…. “I appreciate it. Thanks. She died on the 29th. She’d been sick and had a recurrence. I got a chance to go out there and spend some time with her before it happened,” he said. “She’d become a Buddhist. She didn’t complain about her situation,   accepting it all it seemed .”  “I always li