Images Of Dead Fetuses Are Just Becoming So Much Scenery

Driving past the local planned parenthood today, it occurred to me that I have become desensitized to the graphic photos of aborted fetuses that pro-life advocates are constantly posting in front of the building. I'm pretty sure this isn't good for their cause.

The pro-life movement is a mess. Aside from reveling in making my kids look at gory photos as we walk to the park, their message is  inextricably woven into their religion, and correlating (incredibly silly) views on homosexuality, condom use, and stem cell research; this is too bad, because there are actually salient ethical arguments to be made for many pro-life positions: no blown up images of mutilated babies or religious silliness required.

Of course, these ethical dilemmas are for individuals to consider before making a choice that is ultimately theirs. There are too many variables and too many individual considerations to be made regarding the termination of pregnancies for one sweeping, national ban to make sense.

For a good example of the kind of nuances and individual considerations that create a need for national access to safe, legal abortions (and the inability or unwillingness of certain pro-lifers to appreciate such considerations), check out this piece over at Alternet entitled, 'What Happened When I Yelled Back at "Christians" Calling My Wife A Murderer'.

Excerpts:

"After extensive testing at a renowned Boston hospital three weeks earlier, we were told our baby had Sirenomelia. Otherwise known as Mermaid Syndrome, it’s a rare (one in every 100,000 pregnancies) congenital deformity in which the legs are fused together. Worse than that, our baby had no bladder or kidneys. Our doctors told us there was zero chance for survival."

 and,

"I’m not a religious person and I’ve never believed in heaven or hell. But there is a hell on Earth. Hell is sitting next to the person you love most and listening to her wail hysterically because her heart just broke into a million pieces. Hell is watching her entire body convulse with sobs because she’s being tortured with grief. For as long as I live and no matter how many children we have, I will never forget that sound. And I vowed to do everything in my power to make sure she’d never make it again."

here's the dad confronting the activists:



That's some powerful stuff, and is pretty revealing--and pretty damning--of the simplistic, subtle-as-a-hammer approach of many pro-life activists.

There is a solid argument to be made that abortion becomes an increasingly immoral choice as a pregnancy progresses. It is also clear that rationalizing away what is occurring during an abortion--especially later on in pregnancy--as the simple removal of 'unwanted tissue' is intellectually dishonest. But holding up gruesome images in front of planned parenthood, or comparing abortion to a national holocaust--or to slavery--isn't an appropriate way to frame the debate. Ethically, the argument about abortion should be more closely tied to the argument about whether or not folks should be able to choose euthanasia, or have euthanasia chosen for them if they are not able to make that choice themselves. A gigantic framed image of Jesus doesn't insert anything into the argument. If the pro-life movement were serious about their issue, they would untangle it from their religion, their views on gay marriage and stem cell research, and would focus on prevention by advocating better sex education in schools, the empowerment of women, and the eradication of poverty and homelessness. Give people more options, and they're less likely to get stuck in bad situations.

Determining what points in a pregnancy should correlate with what laws (if any) is very difficult. So is weighing the well-being of all parties involved in such a decision. Answering these ethical questions are tough, and thus are not likely to be solved by tormenting women with shouted insults and creepy visuals as they make a tough decision that only they will have to live with for the rest of their lives.

cross posted at Daily Kos.

Creative Genius

My sons each won first place for their grade in the costume contest held during their school's Fall festival this year. My oldest son dressed up as Max, the psychotic bunny from the Sam & Max adventure games, and my youngest son dressed up as Brendan, the young monk from the wonderful animated film The Secret Of Kells.

Verra Cool.

Lodo, The Secret Of Kells might be up your alley. There are no talking animals, but based upon the way some of the animals in this film behave, you wouldn't be surprised to find out that they could talk:



Sam & Max:



I think it speaks well of our school's principal--she judged the contest--that she didn't give the prize to one of the countless Bat Men, Iron Men, or Princesses, and instead decided to reward creative, left-field, homemade costumes. What a good way to encourage individualism and self-confidence.

The photo alone warms the heart...

'Bill Murray in GHOSTBUSTERS Fatigues; Script Finally Approved!'

A Moral Way For You To Spend Two Hours

 Sam Harris gives a lecture on his new book, 'The Moral Landscape':

Follicles In Retreat

I caught myself messing around with my hairline this morning. I was trying to comb a little bit of hair up in the tip-top of my crow’s peak into just the right position to disguise just how far away from my eyebrows it has traveled. This was all happening just below the level of consciousness at first, because I was barely awake. but then I caught myself; What are you doing?, I said to my reflection, and then--in defiance of my vanity--parted my hair in a way that showed as much forehead as possible. Then I covered it up again.

I remember a day when I would laugh to myself (and sometimes with others) when a middle aged man with a comb over walked by; and now here I was, standing in front of my bathroom mirror following the exact same impulse that guides the toupee-d man. As is so often the case, I realize that the vulgar things that bother me so much about other people are the vulgar things that bother me the most about myself.

I first noticed my receding hairline after looking at a photo my wife had taken of my son and I playing with hot wheels on the floor of our kitchen. ‘Hey honey!’ I said, pointing at the shiny round spot on my head in the picture, ‘Isn’t this one of those ghost orbs?’.

I have always had a crow’s peak. I just hadn’t been monitoring its Sherman-esque march across the Carolinas of my scalp. After discovering the bald spot--it looks like the barren crop-circle in your backyard where the inflatable pool had been all summer--I compared an old picture of myself to what I saw in the mirror; My hairline had morphed from a wide, smiling U, to a narrow, anorexic looking V.

I accept that the hairline is going, and that the pattern that is evolving will eventually leave a small, fuzzy island atop my forehead. It’s humbling to know that no amount of cool can prevent the inevitable effects of time on the body, and is worth considering that even David Byrne at some point has probably wondered whether or not hair-in-a-can is actually as fake looking as they make it look in the movies.

It doesn’t matter how art-house you are, baby. When it goes, it goes.

Late Week Bowie Infusion...

Guest Blogger: 'In Defense Of Doubtatarianism (I think)', by The Elegant Ape

 In my office I sit between two true believers.

On my right is a snake handling, world is five thousand years old, man coexisted with dinosaurs, seamless garment sort of chap.

 

On my left is show me or blow me, all superstition and voodoo claptrap, what kind of fifth century idiot are you?, all the worlds ills can be traced to organized region teeth grinder.

 

Both make impassioned and heartfelt cases.

 

When I was young and full of sap I definitely fell into the atheist camp. As well as the anarchist camp, the narcissist camp, the whatever would get me laid camp (i was once a vegetarian once for six long months). Then gradually under the cover of darkness slipped into the agnostic camp.

 

There I remained peacefully until the birth of my son.

 

I am willing to admit I have prayed before. There were a handful of times when I was in the military that I prayed with a fervor that would have made a Baptist blush. But prayer for the sake of saving your own ass seems self serving and sensible. When the boats sinking you throw everything overboard.

 

But I pray for my son.

 

That he will be safe on the bus. That the other kids will like him. That he will be bright and happy.  That his fever will break. I do it automatically with out forethought or planning to it's efficacy . 

 

Doubt is the true human condition. It's universal. I look at absolute belief in anything as something that warrants scrutiny and caution.

 

So today I state without fear of contrition that I am a rock-ribbed doubtatarian.

(I think.)

 

*

 

You can read more of  The Elegant Ape's stuff here.

One Nation? No Thanks.

I have been very, very, very, very, critical of the tea party movement. Downright mean at times. Because of this, I thought it might be appropriate--indeed, called for--for me to comment on the One Nation rally that took place in front of the Washington Monument this past weekend.

Mostly, I was ambivalent.

Now, ostensibly I agreed with a lot more of the worldview represented at One Nation than I did at Glenn Beck's 'you can't spell Jesus without U.S.' orgy. But I still didn't care for it, because it rests on the same faulty populist notion that what is true is what is popular. One person, one vote. 80 million Elvis fans can't be wrong. The reactionary One Nation affair seemed to be based on the principle that if the organizers could only get a million more people down to the national mall than Glenn did, they would win.

Boo. That's not how it works.

As much as I love crowds, I hate mobs, and think there can be a fine line between the two. I don't want us all to get along if 'getting along' means mediocrity and relativism. As long as our head-butting doesn't come with a body count, it is a necessary and wonderful part of a functioning democracy. Conflict breeds creation, and any group with freedom and equality as its goal should have a certain amount of inner-tension that keeps everyone honest. Pep rallies are fine for what they are, and there have been many times in human history where it has been necessary for folks  to march, form coalitions, and give grandiose speeches; but that can't be all there is to it. I don't want to be a part of a movement whose entire platform can be summarized on the face of a bumper sticker. I also don't want to be a part of a movement that lacks an ability to look at itself skeptically, and to laugh at itself, and that's exactly the kind of organization progressives will build if they  ape the tea party too much.


We also need to be mindful of the fact that we live in a society that doesn't appreciate the benefit of pain and hard work as much as it used to; If something is not entertaining, we aren't having it. While gathering together with like-minded folk to support a common issue, we need to be sure that we aren't simply feeding into our need to be amused, to be in a constant state of orgasm, to always be eating a cookie. Not everything needs to operate like a game show or a sports contest.


I support the welfare state as it was originally conceived. It allows for personal growth, bolsters pluralism and egalitarianism, and allows the citizenry to deepen their experience and expand their culture. It also puts a parameter on chaos. Life is chaotic. Left unregulated, there would be no one to stand up for the minority. The strong would take from the weak...or, rather, the vicious would take from the principled. But we don't need the herd marching in lockstep. We need thinking folk with deep understandings of various aspects of our collective situation presenting evidence to us, teaching us,arguing with us, and nudging us in the right direction.

Besides, rallies and protests--with a few notable exceptions--are typically exercises in futility. They are energy burning enterprises that lead their participants to feel as if they have done something substantial when in fact they have not. The way to change isn't to hold signs in front of federal buildings and to stick your head into a partisan sound chamber where no alternative information can penetrate: the way to change is is through the betterment of individuals, and the infiltration of institutions. Rallies can be okay. The One Nation rally was okay...Glenn Beck's rally was okay too. What is not okay is treating morality and national politics as if it were a cheerleading competition: 'If we can get more people on this side of the auditorium to shout louder than the people on the other side of the auditorium, everybody gets healthcare! Yaaaayy....'

Rallies and protests should be to our intellectual and moral lives what twinkies are to our diets.

The welfare state can create an even playing field upon which everyone has the same opportunity to better themselves from, even though their success is not guaranteed. It is a thing worth defending, understanding, and vocally supporting. But it can't be defended by a giant Styrofoam finger alone. Being part of the rabble is easy. Engaging in rigorous research, debate, and observation is hard.

It's hard, but it's the better path. Better to be a thorn in the paw of humanity than another pair of marching boots.

Little Spencer's First Science Test...

on the fridge, right where it belongs. Way to go buddy!

A Much Appreciated Gesture

Over at his Better Living blog, Mark Daniels has written a post entitled 'Note from a Former Atheist and Current Sinner/Saint to My Atheist Friends'

it reads as follows:

"It’s not too late to make a fresh start with God."

Take it from one who has wandered from God time and again, God does give fresh starts.

Don't believe there is a God? I was once there myself. I was an atheist. But something (or Someone) incited me to dare to believe. I found myself willing to believe, though I couldn't explain that willingness rationally, in spite of the fact that such belief ran counter to my penchant for utter empirical rationalism and complete self-sufficiency. God, loving and powerful, has been turning my surprising willingness to believe into a deepening trust (faith) in the God made known in Jesus Christ ever since.

If I go to a great movie or a cool restaurant with tasty fare or if I read a book that changes my perspective on things, I don't keep that stuff in. I tell people about them. The same thing is true for my faith. I fell in love with Jesus Christ, God-enfleshed, thirty-plus years ago and I've found God to be incredibly faithful, my relationship with him exhilarating, challenging, and comforting.


Please, consider being willing to believe in God. Just tell the God you're not even certain is there that you're willing to believe and then see what happens.

Then, be prepared to be as surprised as I was and have remained for over thirty years, by all the fresh starts that come your way. Really."

as one of Mark's atheist friends, this is how I replied:

"I can't tell you what a heartbreaking, near-insanity inducing process my attempt to maintain and regain faith was. The farther I get away from it, the better and healthier I feel.

The shift in worldview has been painful and overwhelming at times, but now--as a secular humanist--I feel much more justified (and less defensive) in my beliefs. I also feel a lot more compassion for my fellow man, and have found myself just being good--for goodness' sake--much more often.

I don't know whether or not there's a god, but if there is, I can't imagine that god objecting to where I'm at right now."

Even though the prospect of returning to the Christian religion seems akin in my mind to returning to an emotionally and physically abusive relationship, I deeply appreciate the concern for my well-being and eternal welfare. As Penn Jillette remarks in his oft-used youtube video on the subject of proselytizing, 'how much do you have to hate somebody to believe that everlasting life is possible and not tell them that?'

I agree with Penn, and interpret the witness of Mark Daniels, and all of those other wonderful religious people in my life as an act of love. A willingness to engage in good faith talk about important existential issues--that could certainly cause some social and internal comfort--is a wonderful show of respect. The best way I can think of to reciprocate that expression of respect and love is to return the favor.

I've documented my ascent (or descent, depending on your perspective) from religion here, here, here, and here. It's been a long process that began with an attempt to give God credit for the good things that happen to some while giving him an out for allowing so many inexcusable things to happen to others. This issue--among a handful of others--led inevitably to a view of God that was very close to that of Harold Kushner's: A God that is good, but is not omnipotent. Some other considerations brought me farther away from that point to a deism of sorts, and from there, I landed at atheism as kind of a default state. Realizing that I would now have to create my own value system without the aid of the revelations of a good god, I have adopted the life stance of secular humanism. Things seem to be working out so far. Not being forced to defend claims about things that I couldn't possibly know has been helpful, and it's been a great relief to no longer have to serve as the christian God's spin doctor for some of his less than attractive traits.

All of that as it is, I'm glad that there are people out there who love me and are concerned for my well being. I return their love. I also offer up for their consideration the thought that a life lived for it's own sake, without the need to make and defend unsubstantiated claims, with an awe for the vastness and complexity of 'life, the universe, and everything', a focus on loving your neighbors, your family, yourself, and your community, and with a desire to leave the world just a little better off than it was when you found it, is a worthy enterprise.

As someone much more famous than myself once said, 'there is grandeur in this view of life'.

My Top Five Favorite Movies Of All Time

My top-five favorite films of all time, for no other reason than I am a nerd and I like to make top five lists.

5. Wonder Boys:



It's Michael Douglas's portrayal of the world weary, mildly amused, and reverse-writer's-blocked Grady Tripp that keeps me coming back to this movie. I think it's his best performance by far. I've always been attracted to the existential crisis; be it triggered by mid-life or some other stimulus, and everyone in this movie is in crisis. To one extent or another, they all seem to get that life is a very dry joke--without the guarantee of a punchline--that is being played on them; It's encouraging to see how they all muddle through.

This movie gives me hope that people can sustain a sense of meaning into later life.

4. The Princess Bride:



'You killed my father, prepare to die'
'Have fun storming the castle!'
'You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.'
'Anybody want a peanut?'

If you've seen this movie, I don't have to explain its awesomeness to you. It's the best movie to watch when you're in bed with the flu, and it's also a film that you are obligated by all that is right and good to show to your kids while they are still young.

3. Melinda & Melinda:



I’ve always wanted to write an essay about Woody Allen’s films, but I can’t, because I wouldn’t be able to avoid gushing. He’s a genius. He’s the great moralist of our time, and the modern heir to Shakespeare. See? I’m gushing. It’s unattractive.

While Annie Hall is widely considered the Woody Allen film, I think Melinda & Melinda best captures his mature philosophy. It's also really funny, and has one of the best closing scenes of any movie ever.

2. The Big Chill:



I was 12 years old when Jurassic Park came out. I had just read the book in one excited evening about a week or so before, and was totally psyched to see the movie. The movie was pretty good, even though there were some major deviations that were important an inexcusable to my 12 year old mind. One of the things that most impressed me about the whole affair was Jeff Goldblum's performance as Ian Malcolm. I thought he was really cool. He was brilliant, mischievous; you got the sense that he always felt like he was getting away with something (that is actually a trait that runs through a lot of Goldblum's performances). I decided Goldblum was my favorite actor, and set about watching all of his movies. I liked the way he...uh...enunciated. I actually intentionally mimicked his style of talking, consciously trying to adopt his conversational tics. I was pretty successful at this, and still possess trace elements of Goldblum in my day to day speech.

I got around to The Big Chill in my early twenties. I was working at a book store, and starting college. I was already married and had a young son. I was still a kid, but life--and the choices I had made--were working hard to change that. I guess that's probably why the movie resonated with me so much. Another brilliant Goldblum performance helped, but there was also that theme of grown people coming to grips with the fact that the world had at least as much (if not more) to say about the order of things than their particular utopian fancies did. It's a movie about rigid reeds learning to be flexible reeds, so as not to snap in the current of the stream. I should also mention, the music in this movie is phenomenal.

1. Planes, Trains, and Automobiles



This movie is wonderful. I could watch it over and over. It mixes sentimentality and comedy in perfect measures. Every performance is perfect. The final scene still makes me cry. Whenever I need a boost, or just want to unwind, this is one of the first places I go.


So that's my list. I'd love to see yours.

They Seldom State It Directly...

Jacob Weisberg has a profile of the tea party movement over at Slate that I am highly sympathetic to.

Excerpt:

"Nostalgia, resentment, and reality-denial are all expressions of the same underlying anxiety about losing one's place in the country or of losing control of it to someone else. When you look at the surveys, the Tea Partiers are not primarily the victims of economic transformation, but rather people whose position is threatened by social change. Because racial bias is unacceptable both in American political culture and in an individualist ideology, Tea Partiers don't say directly what Pat Buchanan used to: that moving from a predominantly white Christian nation to a majority nonwhite one is a bad thing and should be stopped. Instead, their resistance finds sublimated expression through their reality distortion field: Beck's claim that Obama "has a deep-seated hatred of white people"' or Dinesh D'Souza's Newt-endorsed theory that Obama is a Kenyan Mau Mau in mufti, or the prevalent Tea Party opinion that policies like Obamacare and the stimulus are merely mechanisms for transferring income from the middle class to the minority poor and illegal immigrants—i.e., socialism. Of no previous movement has Richard Hofstadter's depiction of populism as driven by "status anxiety" been so apt."

It was brought to my attention lately that I have been cruel in my caricatures of the Tea Party. I have to own that. I have been cruel. I have been condescending, I have stereotyped, I have mocked, I have scorned. I have also shivered at the weird undercurrents of Tea Party concern, and creepy revolutionary language. Don't get me wrong; I don't think there will be a revolution (no one can stay that excited for that long), but it's still creepy. The Tea Party movement strikes me as hysterical and paranoid. They seem to be in the thralls of a compulsive, mass twitch. The Tea Party, to me, is just another utopian group that wants to tear everything down and start again from scratch. Life tends towards chaos. The welfare state (the safety net) seeks to put parameters on that chaos.

If I could replace the omnipresent (and now somewhat trite sounding) Gandhi quote, 'Be the change you wish to see in the world', it would be with the lesser known--but more apt--observation from Kurt Vonnegut that reads as follows:

"Another flaw in the human character is that everybody wants to build and nobody wants to do maintenance."

To Burn Or Not To Burn?

So, I want to be clear about this whole National Read A Koran Day.

I don't think there's anything special about the Koran. I don't think religion deserves respect. I don't respect religion. I think these people are fucking idiots.

The only reason I proposed this event was because I dislike the idea behind book burnings. Period. I think book burning is fascistic. I think it's totalitarian. I think it should be allowed, but I don't like it.

I don't like religion either, by the way. I think it softens the brain and waters down the spirit. It's dishonest, and it's trite. It's a cultural atavism whose adaptive value is running out, and I'm glad*.

I'm pretty sure you all understood where I was coming from with this idea, but I've seen a good number of folks (including our president) use this issue as a way to reinforce the idea that religion should not be challenged or disrespected. I just wanted to make sure I differentiated myself from these namby-pamby religious accomodationists and cultural relativists.

I am absolutely a proponent of blasphemy, and irreverence towards religion. I am also absolutely in favor of freedom of expression, and completely support a person's freedom to burn books.

But book burning is an ugly, fearful, and frankly stupid activity.

You'd think the more authoritarian personalities in our culture would catch on by now that they're not going about these things the right way. Burning and banning and protesting books only makes assholes like me more curious about them.

Now, if fundamentalist Christians really want to suck some of the air out of Islam, they could take a page from the new atheist playbook and actually READ the book, and then apply the weapon of reason and skepticism to it.

But of course, that would be a very dangerous approach for them to take...


my brother, cousin, and I outside of a fundamentalist church in West Virginia. You have to appreciate their straight-forwardness. They don't mince words:
* Don't get me wrong: I know plenty of wonderful, decent, upright, and intelligent religious individuals, but I also know plenty of wonderful, decent, upright, and intelligent folks who use drugs and alcohol. My proposition is that it isn't their religion (or drug use) that makes these folks good. My proposition is that they make themselves good.

National Read A Koran Day

So, there's a guy in Florida who is getting a lot of press for a little Koran burning event that he is planning.

As a person who believes in the freedom of speech and expression, I think he should be able to do this without any fear of retribution.

But as a person who believes in the freedom of religious expression, and a freedom from fear of persecution for private, benign beliefs, I think this guy (and the ridiculous amount of press he has received) needs to be countered. This guy in Florida doesn't speak for America. This guy in Florida doesn't speak for Florida.

Because of this, I would like to invite you all to participate in this event. If you have a Koran, on October 2nd, read it. If you don't have a Koran, buy one (or borrow one) and read it on October 2nd. Read it skeptically. Read it searching for truth. Read it anyway you want to. Just read it. And invite as many friends as you can to participate in this event.

Personally, I am an atheist. I have a problem with religion in general. But, I also firmly believe that if there is a book out there that someone or some group wants to burn, then I should be reading that book.

So, please join me. This is the United States Of America. We don't burn books here. We read them.

Please show support for this event by joining us on Facebook. Click here.

"Don't give up so easily..."

This guy inspires me.

Fall Is Flirting With Me

I'm hoping that God decides to smash the east coast with another weak hurricane so we can have some more of this beautiful, breezy weather up here in Ohio...

Labor day weekend has been beautiful to me. Fall is my favorite season, and this weekend was all about hinting at its inevitable arrival. There was a slight chill. The leaves on the trails that my family and I hiked were just a little crisp, and the wind was getting worked up; a little enthusiastic, just as I like it. I burned a CD full of Nick Drake songs.

If you ask me, the best weather is the kind where you're not sure whether or not it's cold enough to wear a jacket for whatever events you may have planned. You think about it. You open up your closet and look for your favorite light jacket. You take it out, maybe even try it on. Eventually you decide to pass, and set out without it. When you're out and about (wherever you are), you say to yourself or whoever is with you: 'I probably should have brought my jacket!'

That's the best weather, if you ask me.

So, the kids start school tomorrow. It was a good summer. Life makes sense to me right now, although it doesn't always. I've been thinking about learning French, in the hopes that in about a year or so I'll be fluent enough to take my family on a vacation to Paris and at least be able to talk to the locals. When I travel, I don't like to go to the tourist spots. I like to find some random place and just exist. We usually choose some random macguffin for our vacation destinations. On our first trip to Chicago, our only item on the agenda was to see the Man Eater's of Tsavo. Our only goal the first time we went to New York was to see if those hot dogs were as good as we heard they were (they're better in Chicago). Next year we're going to Rhode Island to see where H.P. Lovecraft is buried. After that, we'll just hang out. Hanging out in a new city is always the best.

So, that's all. Fall's on the way, and it makes me almost manic with enthusiasm for life. I want to create in Fall. Poetry makes more sense in the Autumn than it does at any other time of year. In the Fall, I want to visit old graveyards and listen to folk music. I want to catch acorns with my kids, and get lost walking in the woods. I want to take hayrides, eat toasted almonds and run around in corn mazes. I want to stay up too late by a big bonfire, fall asleep in my lawn chair and smell smoky--like I just stepped out of Hell--the next morning.

When all of the leaves are dying, I feel most alive.

From the 'Songs That Helped Me Feel Like a Human Being When I Was a Teenager' Files:

Government Is a Tool; It's Not Your Daddy.

Michael Tomasky recently wrote a good essay for The Guardian that suggests a better way to view the relationship we have with our government.

Excerpt:

"The two problems here are, first, that while they (tea party supporters) think they owe government nothing, they actually owe government a great deal. If they're small business people, they depend on the freight rails and the roadways and the utilities and the regulation of interstate commerce and the laws that keep their crooked competitors from undercutting them and the courts' abilities to enforce those laws. Without question the government is an annoyance in their lives in dozens of ways. But they don't see any of the good, only the bad. If you tote it up, the government helps them a lot more than it hurts them, and if they think not, let them go open a hardware store in downtown Mogadishu and see how that works out.

The second problem is the one I saw manifest at that dinner that night. Everybody in this country isn't like you. Yes, you worked hard to get where you are. But the vast majority of people work hard. Some have good luck, some have bad. Some stay healthy, some get sick. Some make only wise decisions, some make an unwise one. Some benefit from free-market oddities and inequities, some lose. And yes, some, because of history or birth circumstances, started the race at a starting line several paces back from the one where you started. Part of citizenship, a crucial part of citizenship, is standing in their shoes for a few moments – as they must stand in yours, and understand your point of view too."

The thing that is so surprising about certain folks' polarized views about what government can be used for is that it is so short-sighted, and seems to indicate a certain amount of self-distrust. Every relationship need not be of a parent/child nature. Government is a tool; you can use a hammer to bash someone's head in, sure, but most often, hammers are used productively. To drive in nails. To build.

Now, the skill level of the craftsman using the hammer is a completely different matter, but we need to be more conscious of false choices that certain members of the media (whose job security depends on you accepting their premise) present us with. It's not 'Government is the Savior versus Government is Cthulhu', as Glenn Beck would have you believe. It's 'Can government assist us in this task, or can it not?'

Trust me; my choice structure will be much more useful to you than Glenn Beck's will (although it may put Glenn out of a job).

Rabelais Himself Couldn't Have Written A Better Character...

Kanye West represents the best kind of self-aware excess and self-conscious American Braggadocio. He's an epicurean genius, and this is the best snapshot-profile of him that I've read.

promo for the new album:

Changing the Currency

I don’t like the way certain segments of our population have deified the so-called ‘founding fathers’ of this country. This is not a new complaint, I know, but expressing this sentiment is new to me.

The founding fathers were men. They had some good ideas, and they had some bad ones. They had honorable and decent characteristics, and they had some that were a little on the shady side. So it goes. Their writings should not be sacred. Our constitution should not be sacred. Nothing is sacred.

It’s not bad that nothing is sacred. It’s the truth; saying ‘nothing is sacred’ isn’t going to do some bugaboo to the good ideas that are our self declared national rights. Actually, as George Carlin so artfully verbalized in his last HBO special, even our rights are illusory.



We have no rights, and nothing is sacred. Or rather, we have no intrinsic rights, and nothing is intrinsically sacred. The rights we have are the ones that we win for ourselves on a day to day basis, and we make things sacred by declaring them to be so.

While I will win rights for myself, and encourage others to win rights for themselves, I think there are too many sacred things in our culture. Sacred things are unquestionable things. Sacred things are not supposed to be changed. Sacred things are deemed to be sacred by something other than reason, and things that are deemed outside of reason are dangerous because they are not susceptible to the influence of reason. The doctrine that ‘we find these truths to be self evident’ is a faith assumption. That God has given us these inherent rights. This is not true, because there is no evidence to support the existence of a God, and there is no evidence to support the assumption that God has given us anything. Rights are things that are won. They are coaxed. They must be vigilantly guarded. The assumption that there is something divine underpinning our rights leads to complacency and an assumption that ‘in the end, the truth will out’.

That may be true, but the truth that outs will be the truth, not necessarily what your nationalist faith assigns the truth to be.

I want reason and skepticism to underpin our national values. I don’t like the sacred aura that hovers over the constitution, and I don’t like the sacred aura that hovers around the founding fathers. Thankfully it’s becoming increasingly acceptable to openly question religion in the United States. I wonder how far along we’ve come in our willingness to allow our secular dogmas to be questioned?

This proposal may be whimsical, but I have a suggestion for undermining the nationalist religion of ‘the founding fathers’. It may be perceived that I am merely substituting one religion—American Jingoism—for another—my own secular humanism—but I don’t think so. There may have been a time where our national religion was necessary to preserve unity and to move the country forward. I don’t think this is the case anymore. Reason leads me to believe that if we are to survive (and thrive) as a people, we’ll have to embrace reason—and humanism—more fully than we have in the past. The national religion of the past isn’t spawning patriotism and progress anymore. These days, it spawns nativist reactionaries and fat, spoiled, over-privileged protest movements. We can take from the past—we don’t have to build from scratch—but we need a new story arch.

So, onto my small, whimsical suggestion:

I think we should change the faces that we put on money. The people we honor on our currency should be representatives of where we hope to go as a people, rather than representatives of where we have been. Romanticizing our leaders by building monuments for them, and by memorializing them on money only feeds our national atavism. As we move forward, I think we should look towards the arts & sciences for guidance.

Here are my recommendations. I’d love to see yours.

On the 1 dollar bill: Carl Sagan
On the 5 dollar bill: Louis Armstrong
On the 10 dollar bill: Dr. Seuss
On the 20 dollar bill: Kurt Vonnegut
On the 50 dollar bill: Bob Dylan
On the 100 dollar bill: Woody Allen

what do you think?

cross posted at Daily Kos.