"Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."
--Matthew 25:40 (KJV)
On Tuesday, we elected our first non-white President. Racism is still alive and well in the US, but, at last, we as a nation have overcome it at least to the extent that a candidate can run based on vision and qualifications without skin color being a hindrance. And, though I'm not especially fond of either of them, Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin proved that gender may no longer be an issue with voters anymore, either. (Neither won, true, but Hillary came remarkably close, and the importance of Palin's being a female VP nominee on the ticket not usually associated with gender equality should not be understated. I just hope they'll both crawl back into whatever holes they came out of and allow less divisive female candidates to step forward in the near future.)
Happily, Elizabeth Dole's campaign for re-election was shot down after her inexcusable attacks on Kay Hagan's religion. (Unfortunately, neo-McCarthyist Michele Bachmann was re-elected, but you can't win 'em all. I imagine her calls to investigate anti-American sentiment in Congress will continue to fall on deaf ears.)
In Colorado, a ballot measure was shot down that would have legally defined a fertilized egg as a human being. I'm no proponent of abortion (though it is far from an important issue when it comes to me deciding who gets my vote as it is nothing more than an inflammatory wedge issue that will never be resolved), but this idea seems extreme for even the most hardcore pro-life activists.
However, equal rights for all suffered two major blows this week. First, there is the obvious: passage of Proposition 8 in California, which stripped same-sex couples of the right to marry. I may be mistaken, but this is the first instance I'm aware of where a right has been granted to a minority group, then the validity of that right has gone to a vote before a populace still not comfortable with that minority. I'm not sure whether to be more disgusted with so many not seeing this as discrimination, pure and simple, or the amount of time and money donated by churches and Christian groups that could have (and should have) been spent on those who need help. Jesus never told us to get involved in politics; He maintained a very hands-off approach during His life. But He did tell us to help the needy, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, etc. I may be mistaken, and the hundreds or thousands of "Yes on 8" signs I've seen locally may be made of rice and were donated to soup kitchens, but I doubt it. This is why great leaders throughout history have cautioned against the power of organized religion, even the religions in which they themselves believed. The role of the church is to do God's work, not to legislate.
Why am I not as concerned about the votes on the same issue in Florida and Arizona? The right had never been granted there. It's still wrong, but those situations pale in comparison to California's current situation. California judges determined the state constitution did not specify a reason to not allow same-sex marriage, and granted the right to an institution called "marriage" to same-sex couples. Then it was taken away by a vote, because God forbid that judges, who are appointed to interpret the law and rule on complex legal issues because they know the law better than the vast majority of voters, actually do their job. Then they're "activist judges" who "rule from the bench." Unless, of course, you agree with them. Funny how that works, isn't it?
It may sound like hyperbole, but the situation reminds me most of the plight of Jews leading up to World War II. I'm not referring to the Holocaust, which is the darkest moment in human history, but the string of injustices perpetrated as the Nazis took power. Rights that had previously existed were slowly eroded away. Restrictions on what jobs a Jewish man could hold, or what hours he could be outside, or requirements that he wear a yellow Star of David--these seemingly minor acts of discrimination took place over time. And the rest of the population, for the most part, kept quiet. Anti-semitic sentiment was strong, so why would someone defend a group that was hated by most people (including, likely, themselves)?
But that's the thing: it's easy to defend your own rights, or rights you agree with. It's more important to defend those you may not be comfortable with, so long as they do not interfere with the rights of other people. I seriously doubt that homosexuals in the US will be exterminated, but any erosion of rights is unacceptable.
The ballot measure in Arkansas which prevents adoption by unmarried couples is, simply put, stupid. Yes, it's discrimination. But it shows how incredibly dense and hypocritical people are who wish to strip away rights. The intent is clearly to keep same-sex couples (who can't be married under Arkansas law) from adopting. The proponents of the measure made no bones about this in their advertisements and arguments. Yet, to circumvent a 2006 ruling by the Arkansas Supreme Court, it is carefully worded to bar all adoptions by unwed couples. All of this, ostensibly, is to protect children. And I can't help but see how stupid the logic is. "Let's protect kids by keeping them away from potentially loving parents, and keep them in state custody, where they're more likely to be abused and molested, commit crimes, and have serious emotional problems." And, "Let's make it harder to adopt, so more unmarried teenage mothers will turn to abortion." I don't like using such a derogatory word, but I'll say it again in this case: stupid. Hopefully, the Arkansas Supreme Court will shoot down this law born in ignorance and intolerance within a couple of years. (I'm not sure how quickly the court system operates there.)
Maybe one day, we will be able to overcome all discrimination. Unfortunately, it seems like there is always a new target for hatred.
06 November, 2008
05 November, 2008
Toward a colorblind society
"It's a whole new world, baby! It's a whole new world!"
--Ben Burns (Richard Roundtree)
The first record of an African slave being sold in what would become the United States occurred in 1619. Though the Declaration of Independence of the United States stated that "all men are created equal" in 1776, the Founding Fathers deadlocked on the issue of slavery and, in the Constitution in 1787, postponed it for 20 years, for the next generation to deal with. Slavery was finally abolished in the US in 1865 (68 years longer than intended) with the passage of the 13th Amendment. The Civil Rights Act and 24th Amendment of 1964 ensured full voting privileges to African-Americans.
And, on November 4, 2008, the United States of America for the first time elected an African-American to lead the nation as its President. Almost 2.5 centuries to be freed. One century to be equal under the law. And barely one generation to achieve the highest office in the land.
Even if you disagree with his politics, even if your head is so far up your butt that you still believe the BS smear tactics that he's a socialist Muslim terrorist who wants to take your guns, give away your money, and dismantle the state of Israel, take a moment and reflect on this. Be happy for the man and what he represents even if you disagree with him or even don't like him.
At the founding of our nation, Barack Obama would likely have been forced to work as a slave on a cotton plantation. A century ago, he would've been a marginal citizen on the outskirts of society. And now, he will lead our nation to what I hope will be better days.
We have not erased the sins of the past. This can never happen. But, as a nation, we have proven that we no longer simply pay lip service to the notion of equality, and even the capital of the Confederacy can vote for a man based on his qualifications rather than his skin color. We still have a long way to go toward equality for all (as the hotly-contested and likely lost battle for marriage rights in California proves), but this is a milestone. Dr. King's dream may never be fully realized in an imperfect world such as we live in, but the distance covered in just 45 years is a testament to the progress we can make when we refuse to accept inequality.
This is your moment, Barack Hussein Obama, 44th President of the United States of America. And, more, it belongs to everyone who believes the world can be a more egalitarian place.
--Ben Burns (Richard Roundtree)
The first record of an African slave being sold in what would become the United States occurred in 1619. Though the Declaration of Independence of the United States stated that "all men are created equal" in 1776, the Founding Fathers deadlocked on the issue of slavery and, in the Constitution in 1787, postponed it for 20 years, for the next generation to deal with. Slavery was finally abolished in the US in 1865 (68 years longer than intended) with the passage of the 13th Amendment. The Civil Rights Act and 24th Amendment of 1964 ensured full voting privileges to African-Americans.
And, on November 4, 2008, the United States of America for the first time elected an African-American to lead the nation as its President. Almost 2.5 centuries to be freed. One century to be equal under the law. And barely one generation to achieve the highest office in the land.
Even if you disagree with his politics, even if your head is so far up your butt that you still believe the BS smear tactics that he's a socialist Muslim terrorist who wants to take your guns, give away your money, and dismantle the state of Israel, take a moment and reflect on this. Be happy for the man and what he represents even if you disagree with him or even don't like him.
At the founding of our nation, Barack Obama would likely have been forced to work as a slave on a cotton plantation. A century ago, he would've been a marginal citizen on the outskirts of society. And now, he will lead our nation to what I hope will be better days.
We have not erased the sins of the past. This can never happen. But, as a nation, we have proven that we no longer simply pay lip service to the notion of equality, and even the capital of the Confederacy can vote for a man based on his qualifications rather than his skin color. We still have a long way to go toward equality for all (as the hotly-contested and likely lost battle for marriage rights in California proves), but this is a milestone. Dr. King's dream may never be fully realized in an imperfect world such as we live in, but the distance covered in just 45 years is a testament to the progress we can make when we refuse to accept inequality.
This is your moment, Barack Hussein Obama, 44th President of the United States of America. And, more, it belongs to everyone who believes the world can be a more egalitarian place.
03 November, 2008
Vote
"Those who stay away from the election think that one vote will do no good: 'Tis but one step more to think one vote will do no harm."
--Ralph Waldo Emerson
If you're 18 and a registered voter, go and vote. Regardless of what you think about any candidate or issue, do it. If you're not registered, take care of this now rather than later, so you can vote next time.
And, even though it may seem like a pain in the butt, get as much information as you can on those obscure local issues and candidates. Those are the ones that will affect you the most.
Just don't do what I found out last week my father does: vote for candidates in races about which you're totally ignorant based entirely on the sound of a person's name. If you really don't know and can't find out anything about the candidates for an office no matter how hard you try, skip that section of the ballot. It might sound hypocritical of me to say that, but an uninformed vote can be more dangerous than no vote at all. If you don't believe me, look at the strange case of Judge Elizabeth Halverson in Las Vegas.
--Ralph Waldo Emerson
If you're 18 and a registered voter, go and vote. Regardless of what you think about any candidate or issue, do it. If you're not registered, take care of this now rather than later, so you can vote next time.
And, even though it may seem like a pain in the butt, get as much information as you can on those obscure local issues and candidates. Those are the ones that will affect you the most.
Just don't do what I found out last week my father does: vote for candidates in races about which you're totally ignorant based entirely on the sound of a person's name. If you really don't know and can't find out anything about the candidates for an office no matter how hard you try, skip that section of the ballot. It might sound hypocritical of me to say that, but an uninformed vote can be more dangerous than no vote at all. If you don't believe me, look at the strange case of Judge Elizabeth Halverson in Las Vegas.
Changing channels
"I can see by your eyes friend you're just about gone
Fifty-seven channels and nothin' on"
--Bruce Springsteen
It's a truism that, the more channels become available, the fewer shows are actually worth watching. I consider myself someone who watches too much TV, though I probably watch a good deal less than most. And there's this weird tendency for shows I like to get canned prematurely and be replaced by trash like Are You Less Stupider Than the Biggest Loser Making a Deal? So what am I watching (more or less) currently?
Pushing Daisies: This is, far and away, the best show on TV. Sure, if Arrested Development and Deadwood were still around, it might be second or third, but there's nothing that even comes close to the strange tale of Ned the Piemaker, who can bring back the dead with a touch (and the caveat that he cannot touch them again, or they die) and his true love, Charlotte Charles, who he can never touch since he previously brought her back from the great beyond. It's gorgeously produced, flawlessly acted, intelligently written, and never predictable. And I'm not saying this because, somehow, it's somehow losing in the ratings to the waste of an hour that stole the name of the classic show Knight Rider.
The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and The Colbert Report: It's a sad statement about mainstream news programs when a self-proclaimed "fake journalist" and an over-the-top pretend pundit are the ones asking the important question. But no matter. Even if the news wasn't full of moronic "human interest" (to whom?) stories aimed at 6-year-olds and features that broke on Yahoo! News a week earlier, it would be worth staying up to see these two programs, since they're two of the most consistently funny shows in history, with an excellent balance of the subtle and the absurd.
Good Eats: Alton Brown is a god. He's like Mister Wizard for adults, teaching the basic hows and whys of cooking (with emphasis on the science), while making silly jokes and pop culture references throughout. If you've never seen this, you have been deprived.
South Park: Matt and Trey can still be just as funny as they were ten years ago. Funnier, even. South Park is an equal-opportunity offender that satirizes anything and anybody. Trouble is, it's become quite hit and miss over the past few years. When it's on, it's really on, but when it's off (as in the recent 2-parter "Pan-Demic"), it's impossible to stay awake to see the whole show.
Curb Your Enthusiasm: I thought Larry David's semi-autobiographical show was canceled, especially after last season's finale. But it apparently will be back next year. I just hope the Blacks will be returning; Leon may be the funniest character introduced on the show.
Hell's Kitchen and Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares: It's obvious they bleep out a lot of non-offensive words to make these seem edgier, and they're heavily padded hour-long shows with a half-hour's worth of content, but they're still pretty entertaining. The British version of Kitchen Nightmares is far superior, but I think they only made three or four episodes and BBC America airs them constantly.
Jeopardy!: Even disregarding how the show is a little more dumbed-down every year, it's still the only quiz show that actually challenges its contestants. I could do without the Clue Crew, though.
Family Guy and American Dad: I never thought I'd say this, but American Dad is actually much funnier than Family Guy now. A constant string of pop culture references can get old. I've got zero hopes for all of them after The Cleveland Show debuts, since Seth McFarlane is already stretching himself thin, and proved with that godawful Rob Corrdry show (The Winner? I don't even remember.) that he can't do three shows, or they all suffer.
Simpsons and King of the Hill: Both of these are on their last legs (KOTH is actually finally getting the axe), and hit their peaks years ago, but they're still occasionally funny.
Cities of the Underworld: It's amazing to know what's underground in many of the cities and regions of the world. My only complaint is that it sometimes tries to cover too much in an hour.
Jurassic Fight Club: A smart, mostly accurate, science show about dinosaurs that always culminates in the goriest fights you can see on basic cable. It sometimes fudges things like the sizes of the animals, but it's the best dinosaur show since the original Walking with Dinosaurs.
Monsterquest: This one can be more hit and miss than even South Park. Usually, it's a fun watch, even if most of it is likely BS. Sometimes it really seems to be scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to ideas: my God, there are bears in Alaska? What will we ever do? We're going to have to totally rethink life on this planet now that we know there are bears in Alaska! Someone call up Sarah Palin and tell her to get her helicopter ready.
Mythbusters: Sure, the science isn't always the best, and they tend to come to conclusions that aren't necessarily supported by the outcome of the experiments. But who cares? They blow up stuff!
I don't follow any of these religiously, and there's other shows I see occasionally (I didn't list any news shows aside from the two on Comedy Central, nor did I list stuff like True Blood or Sesame Street that other members of my household follow but I would pass on). But that's the gyst. Since the seasons for these shows are so staggered throughout the year, I suppose it really isn't that much TV.
I'm not being especially deep today, but spending most of yesterday trying to figure out the local candidates' positions (a real headache when there's only one incredibly crappy local paper and one far-right leaning crappy regional paper) has kind of sapped me of any desire to be anything but superficial for the moment. Deal with it.
Fifty-seven channels and nothin' on"
--Bruce Springsteen
It's a truism that, the more channels become available, the fewer shows are actually worth watching. I consider myself someone who watches too much TV, though I probably watch a good deal less than most. And there's this weird tendency for shows I like to get canned prematurely and be replaced by trash like Are You Less Stupider Than the Biggest Loser Making a Deal? So what am I watching (more or less) currently?
Pushing Daisies: This is, far and away, the best show on TV. Sure, if Arrested Development and Deadwood were still around, it might be second or third, but there's nothing that even comes close to the strange tale of Ned the Piemaker, who can bring back the dead with a touch (and the caveat that he cannot touch them again, or they die) and his true love, Charlotte Charles, who he can never touch since he previously brought her back from the great beyond. It's gorgeously produced, flawlessly acted, intelligently written, and never predictable. And I'm not saying this because, somehow, it's somehow losing in the ratings to the waste of an hour that stole the name of the classic show Knight Rider.
The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and The Colbert Report: It's a sad statement about mainstream news programs when a self-proclaimed "fake journalist" and an over-the-top pretend pundit are the ones asking the important question. But no matter. Even if the news wasn't full of moronic "human interest" (to whom?) stories aimed at 6-year-olds and features that broke on Yahoo! News a week earlier, it would be worth staying up to see these two programs, since they're two of the most consistently funny shows in history, with an excellent balance of the subtle and the absurd.
Good Eats: Alton Brown is a god. He's like Mister Wizard for adults, teaching the basic hows and whys of cooking (with emphasis on the science), while making silly jokes and pop culture references throughout. If you've never seen this, you have been deprived.
South Park: Matt and Trey can still be just as funny as they were ten years ago. Funnier, even. South Park is an equal-opportunity offender that satirizes anything and anybody. Trouble is, it's become quite hit and miss over the past few years. When it's on, it's really on, but when it's off (as in the recent 2-parter "Pan-Demic"), it's impossible to stay awake to see the whole show.
Curb Your Enthusiasm: I thought Larry David's semi-autobiographical show was canceled, especially after last season's finale. But it apparently will be back next year. I just hope the Blacks will be returning; Leon may be the funniest character introduced on the show.
Hell's Kitchen and Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares: It's obvious they bleep out a lot of non-offensive words to make these seem edgier, and they're heavily padded hour-long shows with a half-hour's worth of content, but they're still pretty entertaining. The British version of Kitchen Nightmares is far superior, but I think they only made three or four episodes and BBC America airs them constantly.
Jeopardy!: Even disregarding how the show is a little more dumbed-down every year, it's still the only quiz show that actually challenges its contestants. I could do without the Clue Crew, though.
Family Guy and American Dad: I never thought I'd say this, but American Dad is actually much funnier than Family Guy now. A constant string of pop culture references can get old. I've got zero hopes for all of them after The Cleveland Show debuts, since Seth McFarlane is already stretching himself thin, and proved with that godawful Rob Corrdry show (The Winner? I don't even remember.) that he can't do three shows, or they all suffer.
Simpsons and King of the Hill: Both of these are on their last legs (KOTH is actually finally getting the axe), and hit their peaks years ago, but they're still occasionally funny.
Cities of the Underworld: It's amazing to know what's underground in many of the cities and regions of the world. My only complaint is that it sometimes tries to cover too much in an hour.
Jurassic Fight Club: A smart, mostly accurate, science show about dinosaurs that always culminates in the goriest fights you can see on basic cable. It sometimes fudges things like the sizes of the animals, but it's the best dinosaur show since the original Walking with Dinosaurs.
Monsterquest: This one can be more hit and miss than even South Park. Usually, it's a fun watch, even if most of it is likely BS. Sometimes it really seems to be scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to ideas: my God, there are bears in Alaska? What will we ever do? We're going to have to totally rethink life on this planet now that we know there are bears in Alaska! Someone call up Sarah Palin and tell her to get her helicopter ready.
Mythbusters: Sure, the science isn't always the best, and they tend to come to conclusions that aren't necessarily supported by the outcome of the experiments. But who cares? They blow up stuff!
I don't follow any of these religiously, and there's other shows I see occasionally (I didn't list any news shows aside from the two on Comedy Central, nor did I list stuff like True Blood or Sesame Street that other members of my household follow but I would pass on). But that's the gyst. Since the seasons for these shows are so staggered throughout the year, I suppose it really isn't that much TV.
I'm not being especially deep today, but spending most of yesterday trying to figure out the local candidates' positions (a real headache when there's only one incredibly crappy local paper and one far-right leaning crappy regional paper) has kind of sapped me of any desire to be anything but superficial for the moment. Deal with it.
02 November, 2008
How about a little fire, Scarecrow?
"[L]et me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself -- nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance."
--Franklin Delano Roosevelt
I wasn't going to bring this subject up again so soon after the last post. But the sometimes random tendencies of the thought process led me back to it. I was thinking of how unfortunate it is that there are so few Republican comedians who are funny, and it sort of brought me to a man I've not thought of in almost two decades.
Back in the 1980s, when I was a young boy with a mullet that Billy Ray Cyrus would envy, I regularly attended the youth group at my church. We did quite a lot of things together, from summer camp to concerts. And one concert was a sold-out performance at a rather respectably-sized venue by a Christian comedian named Mike Warnke. His material wasn't worth writing home about (the only joke I can remember now is one about the duty of ushers being "ushing"). I can't go so far as to say I think it was bad; it was just quite unmemorable. But he was pretty hot stuff among evangelical Christians at the time, many of whom, unfortunately, insulate themselves from the rest of the world just as badly as they do today. (I've not abandoned the core of what I believed then, but tried to dispense with many of the trappings, particularly traditions that have no basis in the teachings of Jesus. Secular rock music is not evil, for example, because something as transcendentally great as the guitar solo in "You Shook Me All Night Long" is proof positive that there is more to existence than what is readily apparent.)
Warnke's big draw was that he had been a former high priest in a satanic cult in the 1960s, and he was saved while serving an especially eventful tour in Vietnam. He told unimpressive jokes, but also warned about the evil ways into which he'd been drawn as a young adult. He was accepted as an expert in the field, and there was an unhealthy fear of satanic cults around that time (and not just among Christians, either), so he got quite a bit of work, and raised quite a bit of money for his outreach programs. His discussions were disturbing, to say the least. One detail that stands out was his description of being called in to consult for local law enforcement when they found a dead baby, who'd been ritually sacrificed and had his skull removed from his head, that was found in a garbage bag. I believe his exact phrase was, "You don't know how evil these people can be until you've looked into the face of a dead infant that is flattened because there's no skull to support it."
For almost a month, I had trouble sleeping. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the image in my mind. I re-developed a fear of dark places that I'd grown out of years earlier. More, I lived in constant terror of the devil and his earthly servants, who constantly, I thought, watched for the slightest infraction against God's commands, waiting impatiently to tear us limb from limb and use our corpses in their depraved rituals.
I really wonder now if I blocked it completely out of my head. I'm not exaggerating when I say that, about a month or so afterwards, I simply didn't think of it at all, even as traumatic as it had been, until yesterday.
I'll admit, as an adult, and particularly as a parent, the idea of a mutilated baby corpse is still one hell of a disturbing mental image. But I've grown up. Yes, I still collect G.I.Joe figures and watch cartoons, but I'm mostly an adult. I no longer believe in the devil as an actual being, only as an abstract representation of our own dark sides, and I recognize the "hellfire and brimstone" sermon for what it is: a form of terrorism.
I can hear the response now: "What?!? How dare you use that word?" The simple fact is, Mirriam-Webster defines terrorism as "the systematic use of terror especially as a means of coercion." And what is terror? It is fear. As in fear tactics. Coerce? Again, from Mirriam-Webster: "to achieve by force or threat." So, he was using fear, or terror, of such a supernatural evil to coerce people into believing. And, well, it worked. He might not have been blowing up people on a large scale (or period), but it's the same basic tactic on a much smaller, more personal, scale.
(I'm not saying this to diminish the destruction or loss of life committed by Al Qaeda and other terrorist groups, nor would I ever condone this sort of behavior. It's evil, pure and simple. But the terrorist modus operandi, using fear to influence others to acquiese to your wishes, is a technique in the toolbox of men like Mike Warnke and Dick Cheney, even if they don't resort to actual violence. Well, except when Cheney is supposedly hunting ducks.)
The first thing to cross my adult mind was skepticism. If there was really a large satanic cult stealing the skulls from infants in the 1980s, why was this the only time I'd heard of it? I follow the news, and have seen quite a few shocking stories of violence, but never anything like this before or since. And why, if he himself had been involved in human sacrifice, as he'd claimed, had he never turned himself or his conspirators in?
Thank God for the internet. Barely a few seconds of typing led me to many sources that informed me that this man had been soundly debunked in 1991 by a Christian magazine called Cornerstone. Turns out pretty much everything he said was total BS. Not only was he a fraud, having been a shy nerd in college and not a drug-addicted satanic murderer, but he'd co-opted other people's stories from Vietnam to make his own stint there sound more dramatic. He'd collected donations for outreach programs that didn't even exist (while drawing a salary in a tax bracket sure to require him to pay more taxes under Obama). He'd also been married four times, and physically abused his wives. In short, he lied and wasn't practicing what he preached. (Hmm.... This is making me think of that one Islamic fundamentalist who talks about the US being evil, but still wears a Rolex. Maybe the terrorism remark is more apropos than I originally thought.)
Instilling fear is never an appropriate course of action for civilized people, regardless of their religion. It doesn't matter what the desired outcome may be. A wise green man once said, in his final film appearance that was worth watching, "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering." We can learn a lot from Yoda (up through 1999, at least--after that, it's just silliness); as a commentator on the human condition, he never steers you wrong, even if he isn't a human and he doesn't really exist. Fear will lead to suffering every time, be it directly or indirectly, intentional or not. Can we ever trust the words of a man who claims to be working to save souls by scaring children? He may have succeeded in getting me to walk what he thought a straight line for a while, but is it worth traumatizing a 12-year-old kid? Has he ultimately done more harm than good, with his public humiliation destroying his credibility? How many now feel bullied into believing in God and reject what they once accepted as a result of this sort of preaching?
Fear is paralyzing. Anyone who's ever been afraid of the monster under the bed knows this. Fear on a spiritual level keeps one from growing. And spiritual growth is essential, or one is just an automaton of sorts, following commands without ever pondering them.
And, I suppose, it eventually comes back to politics, with the campaign of a once noble and respectable leader lately resorting to playing on fears of a terrorist boogieman who either will kill us all if we vote for the other guy, or who the other guy is secretly pallin' around with. By using fear as a weapon, he becomes what he is trying to scare us against. It's sad and disgusting, and yet pitiful, that McCain, a man I would've without hesitation voted for over Gore in 2000, has sunk to such a level.
Of course, everything I said about fear, well, it doesn't apply to Batman. Because he's wicked awesome.
--Franklin Delano Roosevelt
I wasn't going to bring this subject up again so soon after the last post. But the sometimes random tendencies of the thought process led me back to it. I was thinking of how unfortunate it is that there are so few Republican comedians who are funny, and it sort of brought me to a man I've not thought of in almost two decades.
Back in the 1980s, when I was a young boy with a mullet that Billy Ray Cyrus would envy, I regularly attended the youth group at my church. We did quite a lot of things together, from summer camp to concerts. And one concert was a sold-out performance at a rather respectably-sized venue by a Christian comedian named Mike Warnke. His material wasn't worth writing home about (the only joke I can remember now is one about the duty of ushers being "ushing"). I can't go so far as to say I think it was bad; it was just quite unmemorable. But he was pretty hot stuff among evangelical Christians at the time, many of whom, unfortunately, insulate themselves from the rest of the world just as badly as they do today. (I've not abandoned the core of what I believed then, but tried to dispense with many of the trappings, particularly traditions that have no basis in the teachings of Jesus. Secular rock music is not evil, for example, because something as transcendentally great as the guitar solo in "You Shook Me All Night Long" is proof positive that there is more to existence than what is readily apparent.)
Warnke's big draw was that he had been a former high priest in a satanic cult in the 1960s, and he was saved while serving an especially eventful tour in Vietnam. He told unimpressive jokes, but also warned about the evil ways into which he'd been drawn as a young adult. He was accepted as an expert in the field, and there was an unhealthy fear of satanic cults around that time (and not just among Christians, either), so he got quite a bit of work, and raised quite a bit of money for his outreach programs. His discussions were disturbing, to say the least. One detail that stands out was his description of being called in to consult for local law enforcement when they found a dead baby, who'd been ritually sacrificed and had his skull removed from his head, that was found in a garbage bag. I believe his exact phrase was, "You don't know how evil these people can be until you've looked into the face of a dead infant that is flattened because there's no skull to support it."
For almost a month, I had trouble sleeping. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the image in my mind. I re-developed a fear of dark places that I'd grown out of years earlier. More, I lived in constant terror of the devil and his earthly servants, who constantly, I thought, watched for the slightest infraction against God's commands, waiting impatiently to tear us limb from limb and use our corpses in their depraved rituals.
I really wonder now if I blocked it completely out of my head. I'm not exaggerating when I say that, about a month or so afterwards, I simply didn't think of it at all, even as traumatic as it had been, until yesterday.
I'll admit, as an adult, and particularly as a parent, the idea of a mutilated baby corpse is still one hell of a disturbing mental image. But I've grown up. Yes, I still collect G.I.Joe figures and watch cartoons, but I'm mostly an adult. I no longer believe in the devil as an actual being, only as an abstract representation of our own dark sides, and I recognize the "hellfire and brimstone" sermon for what it is: a form of terrorism.
I can hear the response now: "What?!? How dare you use that word?" The simple fact is, Mirriam-Webster defines terrorism as "the systematic use of terror especially as a means of coercion." And what is terror? It is fear. As in fear tactics. Coerce? Again, from Mirriam-Webster: "to achieve by force or threat." So, he was using fear, or terror, of such a supernatural evil to coerce people into believing. And, well, it worked. He might not have been blowing up people on a large scale (or period), but it's the same basic tactic on a much smaller, more personal, scale.
(I'm not saying this to diminish the destruction or loss of life committed by Al Qaeda and other terrorist groups, nor would I ever condone this sort of behavior. It's evil, pure and simple. But the terrorist modus operandi, using fear to influence others to acquiese to your wishes, is a technique in the toolbox of men like Mike Warnke and Dick Cheney, even if they don't resort to actual violence. Well, except when Cheney is supposedly hunting ducks.)
The first thing to cross my adult mind was skepticism. If there was really a large satanic cult stealing the skulls from infants in the 1980s, why was this the only time I'd heard of it? I follow the news, and have seen quite a few shocking stories of violence, but never anything like this before or since. And why, if he himself had been involved in human sacrifice, as he'd claimed, had he never turned himself or his conspirators in?
Thank God for the internet. Barely a few seconds of typing led me to many sources that informed me that this man had been soundly debunked in 1991 by a Christian magazine called Cornerstone. Turns out pretty much everything he said was total BS. Not only was he a fraud, having been a shy nerd in college and not a drug-addicted satanic murderer, but he'd co-opted other people's stories from Vietnam to make his own stint there sound more dramatic. He'd collected donations for outreach programs that didn't even exist (while drawing a salary in a tax bracket sure to require him to pay more taxes under Obama). He'd also been married four times, and physically abused his wives. In short, he lied and wasn't practicing what he preached. (Hmm.... This is making me think of that one Islamic fundamentalist who talks about the US being evil, but still wears a Rolex. Maybe the terrorism remark is more apropos than I originally thought.)
Instilling fear is never an appropriate course of action for civilized people, regardless of their religion. It doesn't matter what the desired outcome may be. A wise green man once said, in his final film appearance that was worth watching, "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering." We can learn a lot from Yoda (up through 1999, at least--after that, it's just silliness); as a commentator on the human condition, he never steers you wrong, even if he isn't a human and he doesn't really exist. Fear will lead to suffering every time, be it directly or indirectly, intentional or not. Can we ever trust the words of a man who claims to be working to save souls by scaring children? He may have succeeded in getting me to walk what he thought a straight line for a while, but is it worth traumatizing a 12-year-old kid? Has he ultimately done more harm than good, with his public humiliation destroying his credibility? How many now feel bullied into believing in God and reject what they once accepted as a result of this sort of preaching?
Fear is paralyzing. Anyone who's ever been afraid of the monster under the bed knows this. Fear on a spiritual level keeps one from growing. And spiritual growth is essential, or one is just an automaton of sorts, following commands without ever pondering them.
And, I suppose, it eventually comes back to politics, with the campaign of a once noble and respectable leader lately resorting to playing on fears of a terrorist boogieman who either will kill us all if we vote for the other guy, or who the other guy is secretly pallin' around with. By using fear as a weapon, he becomes what he is trying to scare us against. It's sad and disgusting, and yet pitiful, that McCain, a man I would've without hesitation voted for over Gore in 2000, has sunk to such a level.
Of course, everything I said about fear, well, it doesn't apply to Batman. Because he's wicked awesome.
31 October, 2008
Physician, heal thyself
"Before you accuse me, take a look at yourself."
--Bo Diddley
I've always been sickened by the tendencies of some Republicans to use faith as a weapon. (I'd say the same about Democrats if this were truly on both sides, but I can't think of any example of this behavior from a Democrat.) I'm not sure when it began, but, at some point, the Republican Party tried to make its brand synonymous with "Christian," implying that the Democrats, their opposition, were, by default, "atheist." They've driven this home to voters through use of wedge issues like abortion, which is an issue that will never, ever, ever, ever be truly resolved, but which doesn't fail to get out the vote from a certain group of Christians who are led to believe it's their moral duty to protect unborn babies... but somehow okay to never provide for their education, and to send these kids to die in unnecessary wars when they grow up.
This year, it's been especially bad, and not just in the most obvious spot of that guy with the same middle name as that other guy's last name, you know, the one we found hiding in a hole and executed. I learned about a little back-and-forth between the two candidates running for US Senate from North Carolina, of all places. I was born in North Carolina, and raised there and in Virginia, and am proud to be a Southerner. I still argue with ignorant "Yankees" that the cause of the Civil War wasn't as simple as history books make it seem (that Lincoln outlawed slavery and the bunch of jackholes who made up the South left the Union because they loved slavery so much). It doesn't mean I think slavery was anything short of one of the darkest deeds this nation ever perpetrated (it's a toss-up for worse when compared to our treatment of the folks who were here first), or that I condone racism at all. But oversimplifying it to demonize one side doesn't do any services to those who want to learn from the mistakes of the past.
I have digressed. Here are links to the two ads, the one from Elizabeth Dole and the response from Kay Hagan. (Go ahead and watch. I'll wait here.)
I'm not sure which sentiment is stronger in my mind: the desire to pimp-slap Elizabeth Dole or to call Hagan personally and say, "You go, girl!" It's one of the lowest attacks I've seen, answered by one of the classiest and yet most scathing counterattacks. If Democrats had stood up for their beliefs and acted like this twenty or thirty years ago when Republicans were busy convincing voters that they were atheists who wanted to force you to abort your babies, we might not be in quite the mess we're in now, politically speaking.
Face it: In over two centuries, we have never had a president who was anything but a Christian. We've had one Catholic president; the rest have been Protestant. There has only been one candidate who had a chance at either the presidency or the vice-presidency who wasn't Christian (Joe Lieberman, who is Jewish).
And, yet, the biggest scare tactic used in this presidential election is the lie that Barack Obama is a Muslim. How many times does a man have to specifically say he is Christian before people will believe him? Call me insane, but anyone who claims to be of any religion gets the benefit of the doubt in my book, until he does something to prove otherwise. If he were secretly a Muslim extremist, why doesn't anyone realize that he should be facing Mecca and praying during many of his public appearances? Does Jesus Christ have to come down from Heaven himself and endorse Obama for people to just take him at his word? There are things you can doubt about either candidate (and both have stretched the truth), but it scares me that there are still people who don't believe the man who seems likely to be our next president on something as basic and personal as his religion.
(And don't get me started on the mass of hypocrisy that is Sarah Palin. Maybe later, but I could go on about her for several pages, and don't feel like it now.)
On the other hand, it worries me just as much that there are still people who believe this is a Christian nation, that we have some grand role to play. No, we're a bunch of people living in a particular geographic area, violently and dishonestly stolen from the natives who were here first, upon which a country was founded by a wide variety of Christians, deists, and atheists, where we are supposed to enjoy and respect certain freedoms, one of those being the freedom to believe whatever you want. One's opinion of a politician should not rest entirely on what his or her religion is. I won't argue that one can't consider the underlying moral teachings of that religion, but most religions agree on the basics and, barring a sudden, unexpected return to the Thuggee worship of Kali, we're unlikely to encounter one that's too different in the moral teachings from Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, or any of the other religions practiced in the US.
About two weeks ago, former Secretary of State Colin Powell restored eight years worth of lost respect in my eyes. It wasn't that he endorsed the guy I'm voting for. He could've said that Obama was incompetent and endorsed McCain, but I would think he was a great man (that I happen to disagree with) if he had still said what he said about the attacks on Obama:
[I]t is permitted to be said such things as: "Well, you know that Mr. Obama is a Muslim." Well, the correct answer is: he is not a Muslim. He's a Christian. He's always been a Christian. But the really right answer is: What if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer is: No, that's not America. Is there something wrong with some 7-year-old Muslim-American kid believing he or she can be President?
It's nice to know there are still some people out there who recognize that people who disagree shouldn't hate one another. And that attacks on faith are not only wrong, but not acceptable Christian behavior.
--Bo Diddley
I've always been sickened by the tendencies of some Republicans to use faith as a weapon. (I'd say the same about Democrats if this were truly on both sides, but I can't think of any example of this behavior from a Democrat.) I'm not sure when it began, but, at some point, the Republican Party tried to make its brand synonymous with "Christian," implying that the Democrats, their opposition, were, by default, "atheist." They've driven this home to voters through use of wedge issues like abortion, which is an issue that will never, ever, ever, ever be truly resolved, but which doesn't fail to get out the vote from a certain group of Christians who are led to believe it's their moral duty to protect unborn babies... but somehow okay to never provide for their education, and to send these kids to die in unnecessary wars when they grow up.
This year, it's been especially bad, and not just in the most obvious spot of that guy with the same middle name as that other guy's last name, you know, the one we found hiding in a hole and executed. I learned about a little back-and-forth between the two candidates running for US Senate from North Carolina, of all places. I was born in North Carolina, and raised there and in Virginia, and am proud to be a Southerner. I still argue with ignorant "Yankees" that the cause of the Civil War wasn't as simple as history books make it seem (that Lincoln outlawed slavery and the bunch of jackholes who made up the South left the Union because they loved slavery so much). It doesn't mean I think slavery was anything short of one of the darkest deeds this nation ever perpetrated (it's a toss-up for worse when compared to our treatment of the folks who were here first), or that I condone racism at all. But oversimplifying it to demonize one side doesn't do any services to those who want to learn from the mistakes of the past.
I have digressed. Here are links to the two ads, the one from Elizabeth Dole and the response from Kay Hagan. (Go ahead and watch. I'll wait here.)
I'm not sure which sentiment is stronger in my mind: the desire to pimp-slap Elizabeth Dole or to call Hagan personally and say, "You go, girl!" It's one of the lowest attacks I've seen, answered by one of the classiest and yet most scathing counterattacks. If Democrats had stood up for their beliefs and acted like this twenty or thirty years ago when Republicans were busy convincing voters that they were atheists who wanted to force you to abort your babies, we might not be in quite the mess we're in now, politically speaking.
Face it: In over two centuries, we have never had a president who was anything but a Christian. We've had one Catholic president; the rest have been Protestant. There has only been one candidate who had a chance at either the presidency or the vice-presidency who wasn't Christian (Joe Lieberman, who is Jewish).
And, yet, the biggest scare tactic used in this presidential election is the lie that Barack Obama is a Muslim. How many times does a man have to specifically say he is Christian before people will believe him? Call me insane, but anyone who claims to be of any religion gets the benefit of the doubt in my book, until he does something to prove otherwise. If he were secretly a Muslim extremist, why doesn't anyone realize that he should be facing Mecca and praying during many of his public appearances? Does Jesus Christ have to come down from Heaven himself and endorse Obama for people to just take him at his word? There are things you can doubt about either candidate (and both have stretched the truth), but it scares me that there are still people who don't believe the man who seems likely to be our next president on something as basic and personal as his religion.
(And don't get me started on the mass of hypocrisy that is Sarah Palin. Maybe later, but I could go on about her for several pages, and don't feel like it now.)
On the other hand, it worries me just as much that there are still people who believe this is a Christian nation, that we have some grand role to play. No, we're a bunch of people living in a particular geographic area, violently and dishonestly stolen from the natives who were here first, upon which a country was founded by a wide variety of Christians, deists, and atheists, where we are supposed to enjoy and respect certain freedoms, one of those being the freedom to believe whatever you want. One's opinion of a politician should not rest entirely on what his or her religion is. I won't argue that one can't consider the underlying moral teachings of that religion, but most religions agree on the basics and, barring a sudden, unexpected return to the Thuggee worship of Kali, we're unlikely to encounter one that's too different in the moral teachings from Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, or any of the other religions practiced in the US.
About two weeks ago, former Secretary of State Colin Powell restored eight years worth of lost respect in my eyes. It wasn't that he endorsed the guy I'm voting for. He could've said that Obama was incompetent and endorsed McCain, but I would think he was a great man (that I happen to disagree with) if he had still said what he said about the attacks on Obama:
[I]t is permitted to be said such things as: "Well, you know that Mr. Obama is a Muslim." Well, the correct answer is: he is not a Muslim. He's a Christian. He's always been a Christian. But the really right answer is: What if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer is: No, that's not America. Is there something wrong with some 7-year-old Muslim-American kid believing he or she can be President?
It's nice to know there are still some people out there who recognize that people who disagree shouldn't hate one another. And that attacks on faith are not only wrong, but not acceptable Christian behavior.
30 October, 2008
About the title
"I just found out there's no such thing as the real world
Just a lie you've got to rise above" --John Mayer
"Crisis of faith" is a term that, so far as I can ascertain, has no hard-and-fast definition. Usually, it's used when one doubts their entire belief system--essentially, what the character of Satan was going for in the book of Job. I've heard some (admittedly, not too many) people argue, though, that any questioning of one's faith is a crisis of faith. If this is true, then many of us go through a constant crisis of faith. I'm of the mind that one's faith in anything or any concept must be constantly called into question, and withstand the self-scrutiny. Faith of any sort is a belief in something that cannot be empirically proved or disproved. If it cannot stand up to doubt, then it is weak faith.
Faith is also a crossover country artist who had some decent Shania Twain-esque hits, but is doomed to eternally burn in hell for what she did to "Piece of My Heart." (Okay, I joke, but I think there's a good chance Janis Joplin will kick her ass when she gets to the Pearly Gates.)
I don't claim to have infinite faith by any means. (I'm not even sure whether that'd be a good thing.) The title refers to a DC Comics 12-issue maxi-series from 1985 called Crisis on Infinite Earths. The premise was anything but simple. For about fifty years, characters like Superman and Batman had been running around in the DC Universe, and DC Comics had acquired other companies that owned other heroes (like Blue Beetle and Captain Marvel) who were in separate worlds. In the 1950s and 1960s, they had "created" a second world, where more modern versions of the characters existed. They could still hop over to "Earth I," where the "Golden Age" (1940s) versions of themselves lived. And there were other universes, such as a reverse world where good was evil, the universes where the non-DC heroes lived, and our own world. By the 1980s, it was confusing, especially when Batman had inexplicably gone from the Adam West TV version of himself to the more realistic, driven version almost overnight, or where Superman had learned that dozens of other survivors from Krypton lived, including Supergirl, Krypto the Superdog, Beppo the Supermonkey, and who knows what else.
To clean house, DC staged a huge crossover, where a superdupervillain was destroying all the worlds in existence, and, to save the remaining worlds (read: the ones we'd actually seen in comics previously), all these disparate realities had to be combined into one world with a new timeline and continuity. This meant some details that had become issues could be fixed: the second Robin could now be a reformed street punk instead of having the same circus origins as the first, and Superman could be "powered down" so that he no longer flew through the sun every Saturday to clean his cape. A lot of characters died. In most cases, this meant they had never existed in the new world. Supergirl was among those who fell, and George Perez's cover for issue #7 (Superman screaming while holding the body of his dead cousin) is probably the masterpiece by this giant in the field.
I think that's right, more or less. Truth be told, the story wasn't especially memorable. The series was more important for what it was than for the story it told. I don't feel like looking up a plot synopsis, because it made my head hurt years ago, and thinking about it makes my head hurt now.
Following Crisis, the late 1980s and 1990s were fertile ground for new exploration of these characters. Their past history may or may not have existed, and DC allowed the use of "retcons" (retroactive continuity) into the mix. If something that had come before didn't work, or needed to be changed, change or ignore it. (The Jason Todd Robin getting an entirely new backstory is an obvious example of this policy.) Bad for the people who sit in their parents' basements trying to write Wikipedia entries on a character's history, good for people who might wonder exactly how Robin could've fought in World War II and still be a teenager.
Unfortunately, as much as I love comics, and the superhero genre in particular, I don't read anything from DC anymore (aside from the occasional title from their non-DC Universe imprint for mature readers, Vertigo). Rising prices and an insistence upon "edgy" stories from both major publishers, as well as their all but cutting out any stores but dedicated comic shops, have led to the average reader being much older than he used to be. (I'm not going for a sexist term, but the average reader of superhero comics has always been male, which is unfortunate as well.) The industry is dominated by the so-called fanboy, who is more concerned with tight continuity, shock value, and the status quo than in reading a well-formed story with broad appeal. (Oh, and big guns. And boobs. Can't forget the boobs.) And, so, both DC and Marvel are made up of monthly ongoing titles that have become little more than filler in between the massive epic crossovers, of which there are usually at least two per publisher each year. DC has been especially loopy, spending the past three or four years (and who knows how far into the future) undoing Crisis on Infinite Earths in a neverending series of crossovers with names like Infinite Crisis and Countdown to Final Crisis. When the guys in charge don't realize what a moronic concept the Superhorse was in the first place and bring him back, it's time to get out of the pool.
(At this point, who cares anymore? Go back to stories about Batman beating thugs over the head or Superman foiling Lex Luthor's latest plot, and can the cosmic garbage. I hate when there are stories about these massively powerful godlike beings wreaking havoc with existence, yet, somehow, guys like Batman and Spider-Man can save the world.)
So, long story short, I was aiming for a cheap, hopefully catchy, pun. Though making sense out of many different, seemingly opposing, schools of thought wouldn't be a bad goal to shoot for.
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