T. Smith: An Old Man Leafing Through a Print Album,
Next to His Young Wife (1786-12)

I doubt that there could be a better allegory of what's happening in this country than the illegal, unpermitted destruction of the whole East Wing of our White House to construct a wholly unnecessary trailer trashy gilded ballroom for billionaires to gather in and gloat. While, by the end of this month, 4/5th of the people receiving food assistance in this county will lose it due to Repuglican indifference. Every damned thing this administration uninterested in administering anything attempts goes sideways and screams indecency. I experienced an emotional low point in the absurdity this writing week, wanting to turn off the endless insults to my patience and intelligence. I've seen stupid before, but never on this scale. I'd heard of indecency before, too, but these clowns recalibrate that scale. too. I feel a little reassured that the pathology predicts that our incumbent's Self-Saboteur Syndrome can't rest until it utterly destroys its host. He's aching for the retribution his mommy and daddy couldn't give him, and for the public humiliation that not even three of the more skilled wives could provide.

I persisted, anyway, in my personal fool's-quality Decency mission. I considered what Win and Lose look like through this prism. I insisted that I experience more than a mere A Decent Night every night on four or five hours of sleep. I plumbed the Origins of Decency and admitted that I've mostly been Cheerleading for Decency in this series. I ended this writing week admitting my sense of Despair. Even the dedicated Cheerleader sometimes experiences hopelessness and knows that it can't help but show through the performance. Thank you for following along and witnessing my personal struggle to promote Decency, the one essential element in our society's periodic table.

——

Weekly Writing Summary

Win
“Decency doesn’t rise to the bait that indecency always hides its hook within.”
This Decency Story tells of a competition featuring only one competitor who always loses. Competition doesn’t define Decency’s Win.

Decency might be rewarded only rarely, and it may require facing criticism and disappointment, but it endures for its own sake rather than for external recognition. It cannot be accurately measured by popularity or in competition, but rather by staying true to itself. Indecent actors seek to undermine and attack decency, treating it as a competition, but their hostility ultimately proves self-defeating. Decency demands patience and resilience from its practitioners, resisting urges to retaliate or lower standards, and ultimately succeeds by not competing in indecency’s contest.


Jean-Baptiste-Siméon Chardin: The Attributes of the Arts and the Rewards Which Are Accorded Them (1766)

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Lose
“…with ample domain to rule with Decency if I chose.”
This Decency Story speaks of a sense of plenty unknown to the indecent. Decency depends upon nurturing a deep sense of sufficiency.

This Decency Story contrasts the decent, who feel a sense of sufficiency, with the indecent, who often operate from a perception of scarcity. Those overwhelmed by a feeling of lack may justify indecent actions as necessary, while those who feel safe seem to behave more thoughtfully and decently. Effective problem-solving sometimes requires being willing to lose or listen to minority opinions rather than pursuing narrow wins. Competition can erode decency, especially when winning becomes all-important. I reflect on a peaceful protest, noting the powerful camaraderie that comes from collective decency and the empowerment found in mutual respect without needing to demean others.

Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes: Por Temor no Pierdas Honor [Do not lose honour through fear] (1816–19)

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A DecentNight
“I will have experienced more than A DecentNight’s sleep, I guess, but A DecentNight nonetheless.”
This Decency Story questions the concept of A Decent Night’s sleep, concluding that there are other ways besides sleeping to achieve a nightly Decency.

In this Decency Story, I push back against my doctor’s suggestion that I join a sleep study, believing four to five hours of nightly sleep to be normal enough for me, despite warnings about possible sleep apnea. While The Muse notices my snoring and possible sleep disturbances, I feel no negative symptoms and steadfastly refuse to even consider sleeping with a vacuum cleaner strapped to my face. Instead, I defend my nightly routine as Decent enough—waking early, enjoying solitary contemplation and writing, time with my cat, and using the early hours for thoughtful leisure. Despite acknowledging other treated health issues, I insist on keeping these hours sacred, valuing the freedom night provides for my creative and reflective practices.

Jan Saenredam: Night, or Woman Sleeping by the Fire (1595)

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Origins
“I might have been fooling myself then.”
This Decency story considers Decency’s Origins.

This Decency Story considers the difficulty of defining where decency comes from, with theories ranging from innate human nature to religious or philosophical roots. I describe Decency as both passionately sought after and mourned when absent, with doubts about whether it can be taught or remains situational. I try to tie the concept to societal functioning, wealth, and leadership, suggesting that Decency might be essential yet unevenly distributed, making it difficult to obtain. I ponder the authenticity of anyone’s own decency and whether freedom depends on it, expressing skepticism about whether those who lack shame can ever truly attain it.


Félix Vallotton: La manifestation (1893)

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Cheerleading
“…I have no particular influence with The Gods…”
This Decency Story finds me reflecting on my role as Decency’s Cheerleader.

In this Decency Story, I liken my role to that of a Decency cheerleader, focusing on encouragement and morale rather than directly influencing outcomes. My task has been to inspire hope and spotlight Decency, even when my personal faith wavers or the odds seem poor. I often find this supportive stance exhausting since it largely depends on forces beyond my control, highlighting the limits of influence while reinforcing the value of persistent encouragement. Ultimately, my mission here might be to help others believe in the possibility of Decency, regardless of immediate results.


Jack Gould: Untitled [band and cheerleaders] (1958)

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Despair
“…I have no particular influence with The Gods…”
This Decency Story doesn’t have an ounce of Decency left in it. It considers what’s left after Decency disappears.

In this Decency story, I contend that despair, not indecency, truly opposes Decency, with Decency serving as a foundation for hope. As Decency fades—particularly in the current political and social climate—despair takes over, creating a vacuum in which both sides suffer increasing desperation. Lawlessness further reveals and spreads this desperation, resulting in cascading missteps and mounting catastrophes. Chaotic media cycles add confusion, inhibiting understanding and justice, primarily driven by a failing administration’s attempts to obscure its failures, which they recognize better than anyone else does or could. I feel beset by anxiety, isolation, and a lack of self-determination amid societal collapse, but remain aware of efforts—internal and external—to restore Decency and hope, even as uncertainty looms. This story was a rare glimpse into my deepest fears!


Eduardus Jacobus: Despair (after 1698)

——

I've Been Flagging Recently.
Many decades of authenticity training have left me little more capable of honestly representing my internal state. Apparently, I assimilated my earliest training, received long before I understood that I was being trained by people who, as far as I ever knew, never understood that they were training anybody, in FIFO fashion: First In, First Out. My subsequent heartfelt studies took their place behind what I'd previously learned and so remained almost irrelevant. I knew, or I thought I understood, what I'd later learned, but in practice, nobody would notice that I'd ever experienced anything different. I can hide my feelings with the best of them. I can deny the obvious on an Olympic scale, if there were such a competition. Still, I'm not ignorant of the differences between what I espouse and what I actually practice. I notice the differences, even when (perhaps especially when) I notice them. I feel powerless to intervene in the moment before I express the contradictions in actions. I suspect that this amounts to humanness, however inconvenient it might seem. It might be that nobody ever gets better than some grade of hypocrisy. I tend to disappoint myself first, long before the dedicated forces set to disappointing me ever find me. The present situation is explicitly not excluded.

Your Cheerleader has been flagging, needing some talk therapy or (shudder) medication. I have been sticking to my long-established ritual, just as if nothing's changed when everything seems to have shifted. I have continued publishing my stories, however irrelevant, and have persisted in convening my PureSchmaltz Zoom Chat every Friday morning. Please stop by and reassure me. I've been flagging recently. Zoom Chat LInk: Fridays 10am PDT!

©2025 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Decency, #PureSchmaltz