If Christians Acted like This…

If Christians reacted to every slight and every bit of humor at their expense the way these Muslims have, they would have killed off the rest of the world by now.

I thought I had a lot more to say about this, but the matter has skyrocketed since I started this post, and frankly, enough has been already said by better than I. I will say this much though: western cultures do not really understand the Muslim cultures even fractionally as well as they think they do. And it goes the other way as well. There is no other way to categorize the response to these cartoons than as over reaction. If the Danish publishers understood the offense they were causing, they likely would have elected not to publish them. And if the Muslims protesting that publication so violently really understood the mindset that led to that publication, they probably would still have been offended, but they would not have taken their protests so far.

The best analogy I can think of is of someone telling jokes at a dinner party. Let’s say this person has decided to joke about the mentally retarded, and, unknown to him, one of his listeners has a retarded child. If he knew, it’s likely he wouldn’t make the joke; but even if he did, should the rightfully offended father pull out a gun and shoot him for it? No, at the most, he would coldly tell the man how distasteful the joke was, and more than likely the joker would apologize and that would be that. The relationship would be strained, perhaps, but it’s unlikely there would be violence. The father knows this guy was just making a joke, but it was too personal to be funny. If he was telling fat people jokes, or dumb blond jokes, or lawyer jokes, he would be laughing along with the rest. Likewise, the Muslim community needs to let the rest of the world know that they do not consider this humorous – it’s too personal, too sacred to them. But destroying property and killing people is not the way to express it. They are only strengthening the cultural divide, and nothing good can come of that.

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What Exactly Are They Selling?

My wife gets a lot of catalogs. You know the drill, you buy one thing on line, you get on the mailing list, and they send (more likely, sell) that mailing list to dozens of other resalers, who in turn pass it along again. When I was single, I used to actively cull these mailings, telling them to remove me, but the wifey actually likes getting catalogs. So now, we get a half dozen or more a day. And she actually browses the things almost on the same basis. As a result of this habit, she picked up on something I never would have noticed myself, buried in a catalog clearly geared towards housewives.

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Merry Christmas!

Christmas Tree

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it as such; and if you do not, my best wishes for whatever holiday you do celebrate this season! May you have joy in your life, and peace, and love .

 

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Perpetuating the Lie

Each Christmas season, I am boggled by the great lengths people go to to “prove” the existence of Santa Claus. Everyone over the age of 8 knows he isn’t real. The closest you can honestly come to saying he actually exists is that he is the embodiment of the spirit of good will and generousity. Except for the fact that there is no actual embodiment. He’s a symbol, a phantasm, an imaginary figure. No matter how rooted in fact the legends of his origins are, the simple truth is no such person exists. There are no flying reindeer. Santa Claus is a lie, and every year we try to convince someone, somewhere, of something we don’t really believe ourselves.

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Better ways to spend your money?

It had to be a thrill, but $20 million of a thrill?

I’ve had as many fantasies as the next guy about what I would do if I had the money to do whatever I wanted, but this wouldn’t be on the list. I know another person who spends $15,000 an hour flying old Russion MIG’s (to say noting of the costs of getting out to where you can fly the things) … also not on my list. But I will say this much, these guys aren’t letting it stagnate – their money is flowing back into the economy (well, someone’s economy), and helping to keep those wheels turning. It’s better to spend it, no matter how frivilous it may seem to some, than to die with it in the bank, collecting dust.

So what would I do with $20 million to burn? Once I settled into a modest new home, andsaw to my wife’s sustenance should I die, I would invest enough to live off the interest (a tiny fraction of this would suffice with all debts cleared). Then I think I would look for ways to get rid of it. I’d probably set up a coporation to enable me to do freelance work – no sitting on the duff for me. the rest, it would just have to find a home; I just couldn’t imagine living the “high life,” and I don’t suspect it would suit me that well anyway.

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Defending the Faith

Those who would have “Intelligent Design” taught in schools will have their day in court soon. Their detractors have had their say all over the Net as well, and it looks like the debate will rage on for some time. I seriously doubt it will end with this case.

I have no problem with faith. I am a person of faith myself, and hold my own beliefs quite strongly. But I think both sides of this argument are hurting their own causes going at this debate the way that they are.

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No California Dreaming Here

I’m not sure why this song stuck with me over the years, but whenever the weather begins to turn, I find California Dreaming rattling around in my head. I suppose I once enjoyed the tune, but it’s been rattling around so long in there, it has become something like a force of nature to me. It’s there, and it’s constant, but I can’t really say I like it or dislike it anymore. It’s just there. The funny thing is that I couldn’t disagree more with the basic theme of that song. The singer is essentially grieving over the coming of winter, and wishing he was in California, so to avoid it. Me, I love the winter, and I love the Autumn even more.
I’m not the only one (see: BookLust: Fall in Love, Yet Again…). There is just something about the turn of hot, oppressive summer into cool and blustery fall. I even like the grey and rainy days. I feel like a different person – like all the things that were a great burden have suddenly grown light, and huge load has been lifted from my spirit.
Perhaps it has something to do with my metabolism. I remember mentioning to a fellow once that I liked the cold, and he answered back, “No one likes the cold! You just like feeling comfortable when the rest of us are freeezing.” He had a point – it’s miserable to be cold. But that’s just it, I don’t get cold very easily. Thirty degree temperatures are shirt-sleeve weather to me. When it drops in the twenties, I’ll put on a light jacket, and only break out my heavy coat when it gets into the single digits. As the cold weather progresses, I get more and more acclimated. In the summer, it’s just the opposite. I get a little accustomed to the heat, but I am never truuly comfortable, and I sweat like a pig. My best guess is that my body converts it’s fuel into heat more than other people’s do. It sure doesn’t convert it to energy, I could use more of that. But staying warm is rarely my problem, at least if I’m awake.
It’s beginnning to look and feel like Autumn in these parts, and I, for one, am happy for it. I feel alive again, after a long hot summer.

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Pied Pipers and Lemmings

The Democratic primaries for the NYC mayoral race took place this week, and it reminded me of an aspect to modern American culture that I am finding increasingly alarming. Remember when it used to be said, “may the best man win?” That’s nonsense now, the current mantra is “may the best spoken” win.
Our modern pipers step up on their stages and bandstands, and boldly play their tunes – generally strident, aggressive songs with bold melodies and an upbeat rhythm. Their hired accompanists stand around them, and dance and clap to the beat; before long a group of sycophants and clingers-on are singing along…often louder and more stridently than the main act. The growing crowds attact bigger crowds, until critical mass is reached…and whoever gets the most people to dance along, wins the election. Lyrics are inconsequential, as long as they resonate properly with the tune. Content is inconsequential, as long as it’s politically correct and contains all the current popular buzzwords and catch phrases.
Even more frightening to me personally, is our tendency towards this kind of intellectual laziness does not limit itself to politics. Heaven forbid we actually truly find out about a candidate, or vote on a wholistic view of issues rather than the current hot topic. Double-forbid we should actually research anything else we hear. We blithely accept what is presented on scientific issues, religion…pretty much everything. All it takes is someone with a clear, confident voice to stand up and start declaiming, and that person will have a following. Get enough followers repeating what they say, and it is generally accepted as The Truth.
In one of the most brilliant twists of irony I have ever seen, some people have awakened just enough to this effect to angrily rise up and shake their fists at “The Media.” It’s their fault for presenting only the fluff and the drama! I have to ask, how about we take some responsibility ourselves? It’s not The Media’s fault that we only tune in to what we want to hear, rather than what we need to hear. They are making their living off of it, they really have no choice but to cater to our choices. And we get what we ask for. Just like we get the politicians we deserve.

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Race vs. Class in America

There has been a lot of flap about the holes in the evacuation plans of New Orleans, and aid reaching those who have been stranded there. The stories are horrific, there is no other way to put it. The shortfalls in the planning for such a disaster and implementation of aid are very real, and I for one won’t try to excuse them. But more and more I keep hearing things like, “it’s just because they are poor and black,” and ,”if these were white folk, they would have help by now.” The truth, I suspect, is that the failures in relief have nothing to do at all with who these people are. It’s who they are that got them in the position of in the first place – anyone who had the resources to get out did so. Those who had no where to go, or no means to escape, were stuck. Of course it was the poor of the city. Being the deep south, where the large majority of the poor are “people of color,” of course it was the poor and black who were stuck in such dire straights.
I truly believe that reducing this problem into mere racism is overly simplistic, and, in the end, counterproductive. It’s not nearly so much about race as it is about class, and class issues are endemic to the human race – as much as we like to believe we are progressing, the progress is miniscule. Racism does exist, and the obvious correspondance between racial divides and social divides make it seem more like racism than it really is, but we aren’t going to get rid of “racism” until we get rid of the ingrained belief that because a certain class of people are doing better than others, they must naturally be better.
Here’s a perfect example. I was having a conversation with an aquaintance about an Indian fellow we both knew. My aquaintance had an awful lot of derogatory things to say about this person’s “people,” until I finally told him to shut up, and that I had no use for those who judged someone by the color of their skin. He essentially said, “nice knowing you,” in response; nothing would so much as dent his bigotry.
The kicker is this guy is only of second generation immigrant extraction himself. He is Italian, proud of it; his parents came here from Italy. Now, I remember very well the day when Italian immigrants were considered the lowest class riff-raff imaginable…they were the dregs of the area, and commonly referred to as WOP’s (which was a dealy insult at the time). You would think this guy would have compassion on new entrants to the country based on how his own parents were treated – but no, he’s as bad or worse. His parents’ generation worked hard, learned to fit in, and mostly overcame the stigma. No doubt, the SE Asian community eventually will too. But the disdain has nothing at all to do with race or country of origin, not really – it’s the fact that they are different, and mostly poor. The ones that aren’t poor are treated like they must have cheated somehow, and “stole” their prosperity from those more deserving. They haven’t clawed their way up the social ladder – yet.
Now African-Americans are something of a special case. I still believe that most of the disdain leveled towards them is class-based rather than racial. But, as a race, they have been given a very raw deal in this country. Brought in as slaves, then cut loose generations later with absolutely no idea how to function as free people, it is no wonder that a great many have not been able to escape the cycle of poverty they are trapped in. The disdain they are treated with only makes it harder to break free of it.
Only when we get our noses out of the air and accept that poverty and lack of opportunity do not make a human being less valuable will we even begin to settle this issue. It will be a long time coming.
Edit 9/4/05: Seems I’m not alone in this opinion; Ursula, a blogger currently living in the UK, but formerly of the US, agrees with me that this is a class issue, and her race puts more weight on her opinion than mine does. I might also say she puts it more eloquently than I as well.

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In the Wake of Disaster

It’s difficult to wrap one’s mind around the kind of disaster that struck the Gulf Coast in the form of hurricane Katrina this week. To me, it’s like an unexpected punch to the gut…you are shocked, staggered, gasping for breath; and wondering, “where did that come from?”
It reminds me of September 11th; I feel much of the same sense of awful shock. I live 24 miles from NYC as the crow flies, and I could smell the remnants of Trade Center burning for a week after that event. Ash floated from postcard-perfect azure skies into my parking lot, and every speck of it made me ask, “Was that a bit of someone’s personal effects?”, or worse, part of their very persons. I walked around feeling like a zombie, shell-shocked, for months… though I know very well, for me at least, life went on as it always did, and I personally put the same face on every day that I always had.
And life will go on for me just the same after Katrina. It won’t for many thousands who made their homes down where she struck. They expect the city of New Orleans to be uninhabitable for months. That’s an entire city! It’s difficult to reconcile the scope of such a disaster with my own life. I’m not one to feel a false sense of guilt over it, but some part of me wants very much to understand, and in sympathy to a great many people’s loss, feel a little bit of it too. But it only can be a little bit – because the human soul simply can’t contain that much grief. When tragedy falls on us personally, something remarkable kicks in, and enables us to cope…but only with that part we have to bear ourselves. When it falls on someone else, those of us watching cannot bear it. We can only let a little in, and hopefully, if we can, ease the other’s burden to some small degree. But we can’t feel what they feel, not ever.
So, in my small way, I grieve over New Orleans, and the rest of the devasted area. In practical terms, there isn’t a whole lot I can do for those folks, but my heart goes out to them. Some money will go out to them too, though it seems like a pitifully meager response. Yet, I saw on my way home from work today a lemonaide stand kind of thing, with a big sgn over it saying “Louisiana Tea.” Two kids stood behind it, and in the front was another sign saying, “Help us help a little.” Indeed…a lot of a little is still a lot.

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