The Maligned Emotion

Anger.

It is a powerful, almost unmanageable force in our lives and it almost always arises out of a sense of injustice, of unfairness, that the world should be different somehow, a reflection of our sensibilities, not the hard realities of granite, winds and waves, gun smoke and atrocity.  Would the world really be a better place if everyone behaved exactly the way we want them to?  Visions of the afterlife, such as the one purported in Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones, come to mind, heaven as a paradise that functions according to rules we set for it.  But would that really be a paradise? 

Last night I went to see The Grudge, playing at the Admiral Theater, a second-run house that plays yesterday's hits after they leave the multiplexes.  I was impressed.  I was also piss in my pants scared.  As a visual feast, The Grudge is a banquet.  The characters are all well developed.  I am made to care about them.  The essential theme of the film is that rage, if powerful enough, if expressed with enough violence, becomes an entity in its own right, and once you notice it, and it notices you, then there's no stopping it.  I believe that with regard to The Grudge, that also means, at a very deep, subconscious level, feminist rage specifically. 

So rage is something we fear.  We fear it in ourselves and in others because it means loss of control.  Behavior becomes hard to predict, and violence is often the result.

But anger, good, pure anger, is misunderstood.  Anger is energy for change.  Change is difficult and painful, and the precursor is anger.  Anger, being an uncomfortable emotion, moves us toward willingness to change.  Our subconscious knows that change is painful and pain is best avoided.  Anger is the emotion that convinces our subconscious that avoidance isn't working, and steps need to be taken. 

Do not fear anger.  Use it.  But don't deliberately cause pain to others for its own sake.

As Flies to Wanton Boys are We to the Gods

End Times?

You don't have to go to Fox News to hear incredibly stupid, utterly self-righteous, blasphemous, arrogant things.  Just tune into "Scarborough Country" on MSNBC.  24 hour news channels are desperate for content.  Thus Joe Scarborough, a former congressman with ex-football star good looks and a pleasant tv personality.  I've caught his program on more than one occasion, and I'm convinced that he's on Karl Rove's e-mail distribution list, since he seems to parrot right-wing talking points with the same jargon as the rest of them.  I've also seen his round-table discussions with Rabbi Shmuley Boteach (author of Kosher Sex) and Jennifer Giroux (advocate of The Passion of the Christ).  Last night's program, and I tuned in late, saw Rabbi Shmuley lambaste Giroux for blasphemy and arrogance for apparently suggesting that the Indian Ocean tsunami was a judgment from God to exact penalty for sin. 

As if this wasn't enough of an incredibly superstitious and pagan point of  view (Rabbi Shmuley was correct to call it blasphemous), Joe Scarborough himself questioned whether the tsunami wasn't yet another sign that the end times were upon us.

I'm not a theologian, and I'm a lapsed Lutheran, but my concept of God is not this.  Didn't the Greeks and Romans attribute natural disasters to the whims of fickle gods?  Shakespeare has Lear declare: "As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods--they kill us for their sport."  To me it smacks of rank superstition, of self-righteous pharaseeism that equates financial comfort and a lack of personal suffering with God's love.  "God must love me because I have a new BMW, I have a roof over my head, I have enough to eat.  God loves me more than those Californians and Floridians whom he smites with hurricanes and earthquakes.  God must love me more because I sin less."

That is presumptive, arrogant and sinful, in my opinion.  The other question that Scarborough kept asking was "if God is omnipotent, why does he allow suffering in the world?"  This is a question that has stupefied mankind for all of time.  The answer can be found in 1 Kings, 19:

11 And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the LORD. And, behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the LORD was not in the earthquake:
12 And after the earthquake a fire; butthe LORD was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.

God cares about spirituality and souls.  He is not preoccupied with physics, geology or the stresses and forces at work upon the fabric of reality.  The LORD was not in the Earthquake, nor was He in the Wave.  He was in the hearts and minds of souls who perished and those who survived. 

Here endeth the sermon for today.

Christmas In Florida

Merry Christmas to All and a Happy New Year too. 

Travel wasn't so bad yesterday.  We were two hours late getting out of O'Hare because our plane from Indianapolis, which was supposed to land and take us then to Florida, developed mechanical problems, and had to be fixed.  After the plane landed two hours late, we then had to wait for American Airlines to find a third flight attendant, which was, blessedly, done rather quickly.  All in all, I was luckier than some who had their flights canceled or their luggage lost.  Currently I'm in rainy, wet southern Florida, sitting in my dad's den, typing this entry while it downpours outside, and thankful that I'm here. 

I hope you all got what you wanted for Christmas.  Since I have no desire, getting what I wanted was irrelevant.  More to the point are the new years' resolutions.  I'd like to finish the novel that I've been slaving away at for two years now, and get it in good enough shape to send out, show around, generally promote with an eye toward publishing.  That's number one.  I'd like to lose an additional 20-30 pounds until my 46 inch waisted slacks hang on me like the 48 inch slacks do now.  And after that, pay off my VISA bill, on which is the charge for the very computer I'm typing on at this moment.  A great machine.  I certainly do not regret that purchase. 

Well, it's time to sign off.  I've got a few days off down here to do nothing and lounge and play golf.  Maybe I'll get some writing done.  I'll check back with you all in a few days.

It's Gregoire by 10

The eyes of the nation and the world are focused on our fair state situated in the upper left-hand corner of the country as we deal with the closest gubernatorial election in the history of the United States.  Out of 2.8 million votes cast, the Democrat, Christine Gregoire, pulled ahead yesterday by a mere 10 votes. 

But that's not the whole story--the rest of the story comes from the partisan bickering that has droned on and on since the recounts began.  This has consisted primarily of GOP bluster about fraud and calls for Gregoire to concede, even though Rossi's margin of "victory" was less than one percent--well within the margin of error for any count of 2.8 million.  After all, those tactics worked in 2000--when Republicans hectored Gore to concede, calling Democrats who joined with them "statesmen."  Gore caved.  Gregoire has not.  And I believe the rest of the Democrats country wide are getting a little vicarious thrill out of her persistance.  The shock & awe tactics the Republicans used to shame Democrats out of their manual recounts in 2000 no longer work.  Like the hijackings of September 11, 2001, these methods only work against a foe who is complacent and not expecting them.  But the Democrats are awake now and we know how to respond.  So,  bravo Christine Gregoire, keep modeling appropriate response to the rest of the country as the GOP fumes and blusters and sputters with hyperbole.  May you prevail.

Shut Up and Go Away

Just shut up and disappear.  Fade into the background.  Do not trouble us with your presence.  Live like an earthworm, below the surface, where the rest of the world knows you're there in a vague sort of way, but does not have to actually be confronted by the sight of you.

These are the lessons being taught at Trinity Christian Academy.  Since when does speech equal behavior?  This is what has always bothered me about don't ask, don't tell, too.  Somehow, voicing an opinion that being gay is good is tantamount to a "gay act."  Military men and women can be cashiered for no other reason than being linked by association with other gay people--by going to a gay establishment, for example, marching in a pride parade, going to a rally, a picnic, or a kd lang concert.

In the Trinity Christian case, one of their most talented students was essentially "shunned" for no other reason than hosting a website which discussed homosexuality.  How does that equate to "behavior?"  Perhaps we don't know the whole story, perhaps when confronted, the student disclosed that he had actually engaged in sexual behavior of the physical, rather than verbal or written, variety.

The Christian religion in America has a long tradition of shunning those who express their individuality, who do not conform, so this is nothing new. 

What have they done in this case?  They have treated an extraordinary individual in a most deplorable, traumatic way.  They have given a very talented young man a memory of injustice to take with him for the rest of his life. 

Oh, but doesn't it feel so good to judge, and condemn and expell?  Rather than examine my own sins and failings, I can transfer all the bilge I feel towards myself and project it on someone else--especially a youngster who doesn't have the experience or strength to defend himself. 

The "G" Word

The History Channel has compiled a documentary entitled Rwanda: Do Scars Ever Fade?, a retrospective on the genocide that claimed almost a million lives in 1994.  This program is a grim and unflinching look at how the world ignored the systematic slaughter of innocents; how the world, just one generation removed from the horrors of the death camps, forgot the fundamental lesson of the Holocaust and allowed it to happen again. 

Genocide is perpetrated by people.  And in Rwanda, it was neighbor against neighbor.  This documentary follows the story of two men, Ezekiel and Pierre.  Pierre is a Tutsi, and Ezekiel is a Hutu.  They grew up together as neighbors, and knew each other all their lives.  During the genocide, Ezekiel murdered Pierre's brother and helped throw Pierre, bound, into the river to drown.  Pierre's bonds came undone and he survived, but the rest of his family did not. 

Ezekiel has since become a born-again Christian and has repented his crime.  And here's where the story gets very interesting.  Now he wants forgiveness from Pierre.  In a public hearing, Pierre does forgive Ezekiel, but in a heartwrenching confession to the camera, Pierre states that he forgave for reasons other than a softening of his heart, but rather because he could not continue to live in his community if he did not forgive--forgiveness was expected, demanded by the community, and because he still feared Ezekiel. 

Imagine living next to neighbors who had been responsible for murdering your entire family.  An uneasy peace exists now--but it seems volitile, inflammable, a potent mixture of hate awaiting only a spark to bring it roaring back to vivid life.  The omnipresent vigilance against danger one would have to withstand.  It would be the life of prey, of the hunted, the persecuted and the damned. 

Conversely, imagine trying to reintegrate one's humanity with the horrors one perpetrated.  How losing oneself to mob violence is an irrevocable loss--what could possibly atone for it?  How does one live with oneself?  Like Lady Macbeth's damned spot, would the blood on one's hands ever fade?

Seattle Policeman Scrapes Bottom

About a week after the planes hit the two towers, on a Seattle street, an officer tried to stop a suspect fleeing in a Cadillac by hanging onto the door and being dragged several yards before his partner put a bullet into the head of the car's driver.  The inquest found no fault on the part of the policeman who shot the driver.  For a full rundown on the case please see the Seattle Weekly site.

Now, by and large, I'm against the police shooting African-Americans to death.  It happened to a friend of mine in Los Angeles, when a policeman shot him by mistake at a Halloween party, thinking that the gun my friend was holding in his hand was real, rather than a plastic replica. 

However, the case of Officer Neubert suing the shooting victim's mother in civil court reaches new lows of bad behavior by those entrusted to protect society, and gives the Seattle Police Department a bad name.  Under various theories of tort law, when you give permission to someone to drive your car, then your insurance coverage extends to that person.  So far, so good.  However, no insurance policy underwrites intentional acts.  Otherwise, you could set fire to your own home and hope to collect on your fire insurance.  Putting your foot down on an accelerator while a policeman is hanging onto your door is an intentional criminal act, one which would not be covered by your mother's insurance policy.  An injured person also has a duty to mitigate damages.  Mitigation of damages in this case might include something like, oh, I don't know, letting go of the door.  However, the police officer did not let go of the door, he hung on, because it was his intent to apprehend the offender and arrest him.  Thus, hanging on was an intentional act that failed to mitigate damages. 

This case does not belong in any civil court.  If a policeman is injured in the line of duty, it is up to the state to compensate him for his damages, not to seek damages in a civil court.  To allow this case to go forward would be to harm public policy.  We all know that hyperbole is far more frequent in civil matters than it is in criminal ones--just look at Officer Neubert's testimony.  Calling it a hate crime.  For God's sake.

This case should be dismissed in order to preserve the fundamental trust the public has with its police force.  Policemen are routinely required to testify in criminal matters.  If they are allowed to testify with these kinds of hyperbolic flourishes where does it end?