The Emerging Informality: Christianity's Dire Need, Part I

[If you do not consider yourself a church enthusiast; if church is of no interest to you, then please feel free to click your way to another site. Today I will be discussing worship, Christian worship.]

There has long been much fuss in certain American Christian circles about relevance. By this is meant the relevance of Church to everyday life; the gospel to the spirit of any given age; the Christian worldview to the Sitz-im-Leben, the culture in which it is set. Of course relevance is profoundly important: If the Christian message is nothing more than the Good News that niceties are nice, then perhaps the message is not at all that relevant (or all that good). Relevance of message is everything. Of course, relevance is also psychologically important: Even for many who dwell outside the Church's walls there is perhaps no greater fear than being deemed irrelevant. For artists, writers, philosophers, scientists, architects and engineers, irrelevance is the harshest criticism that could be hurled their way; irrelevance is even far worse than being dismissed as derivative. At least the latter suggests one is part of the game, albeit without originality; the former is akin to being banished to the hinterlands. No one wants to be irrelevant. (And one need not be a genius to predict the longevity of a marriage wherein one spouse feels he or she is irrelevant.)

But let me be more specific: It is the evangelical church, in all its denominational manifestations, that is most apt to perseverate on its relevance. For evangelicalism -- by which I mean the Church's ministry of proclaiming the Gospel -- is constantly reflecting about its effectiveness in witnessing to the world. Evangelical Catholics, Episcopalians, Lutherans, Presbyterians -- it matters not which denomination -- each of these wonders about relevance, adapting a variety of church ministries to appeal to the broadest possible audience, and to appear au courant, hip and relevant. One might even safely conclude that there is in fact such a thing called the ministry of relevance.

Ironically, the Church's attempts at relevance often mean nothing more than that it has become derivative, imitative, or conformist. From hippie to holy hip-hop Christianity, from Christian coffeehouses to Christian art galleries, from The Hour of Power to the Hour of PowerPoint; evangelical Christianity is little but pastiche, and rife with marketing cliché, imitating the culture in which it exists rather than moving the culture toward something uniquely Christian. In fact, it would be safe to say that Christianity stopped producing culture, even moving culture, for the last few hundred years. Surely common folks are not storming malls to buy the latest hot Christian fad, or raiding bookstores for the newest culture-bending, zeitgeist-shaping tome. Even the enthusiastic embrace of the cinematic adaptation of C.S. Lewis' "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," exciting as it was, was naught more than the celebration of imitation: See! Christians can write too! God forbid there should be a cultural revolution afoot among Christian artists and thinkers, pushing art and letters and music to heights heretofore unseen, unknown, unheard. God forbid that the evangelical church should have another T. S. Eliot push the broader culture toward rarefied heights when instead the Church can imitate the meter of Dave Matthews or the rhyme of Eminem, duly following the culture in the power of relevance.

Perhaps the most obvious trend in the ministry of relevance can be found in Dave Shiflett's essay, "Getting Hip to Religion," in the Friday, February 24 edition of the Wall Street Journal. The subhead to Shiflett's article is telling: "New churches are offering youth a more informal faith." I will spare the reader all the details, though my will is weak, and I must share one detail, namely, that there is a North Carolina church so thoroughly au courant, so cutting edge, that it encourages its parishioners to come to Sunday worship services with their laptop computers. Why? Answer (and I quote): "During worship we recommend you instant message the speaker with questions." I ask, from my laptop, where would we be, as Christians, without that truly innovative Christian idea of informality?

Well, we might be in better churches. For it is not informality that young or even old Christians need. Every person in America is immersed in informality every day of their lives. America by definition (perhaps) could be considered a nation built on informality, on throwing off the trappings of aristocracy, and the pageantry and pace associated with royal formalism. In fact, it might be safely said that Americans have been stereotyped by their European friends as being entirely without form; discourteous, loud, iconoclastic, lacking any formal features of custom and rite. Nay, what is needed is not more informality, but an informed formality. We do not need fewer ritualistic and customary formalities, we need more; and we need to know why we need more. It is not that Christianity needs to be stripped of black tie and tails; it needs to be adorned in black tie and tails precisely because no one knows why formality is needed, or what it even is. Christians today speak of Jesus Christ as King and Lord, royal images all; and yet they pray and sing to that King as if He was as unkingly as the nearest buddy at the bar. We have dressed ourselves and our worship in street clothes, not because we are poor, and thus these are all we have or can do; but because we want to be perceived a certain way by others. It is not about God. It is about us.

What is worship? That's simple. Worship is honesty before God. That's it. Yes, it is that simple: worship is to stand before God and declare what is true about Him, honestly, candidly, and, if possible, in good form. Not that God demands His children speak to Him as subjects addressing a great King at all times. But surely the mature subjects of His kingdom would attempt to bring formalism to their worship. God is God after all. He's not your grandfather down at the local VFW.

Let me put it this way. The purpose of Christian worship in corporate settings, where the Bride of Christ gathers as one to worship the Lord, is to destroy individuality. Corporate worship is like grandiose team play, where one learns that the lone self cannot win the game. In short, corporate worship is where each of us comes to die to self. With 168 hours each week, we set aside one or two of those for worship that is not all about the self; about what the self needs, the self wants, or with what the self is comfortable. The rest of the week's hours are there for the self to indulge. But when Christians come to worship, they should come prepared to die to self, to unite as one body, kneeling at the same time, reciting the same prayers, receiving the same cup and wafer. For this is honest, and true, and, not least, it is formal: it is honest in that we are indeed not in Christ for self-fulfillment, but for the fulfillment of others, including Christ; it is true because it reflects the sacramental realities of Christianity, that Christ is preparing us as His one Bride, adorned with one faith, one baptism, and one voice; and it is formal because it can't be otherwise: unity in Christ is a practice of self-denial, and the collective worship of the expectant Bride must be formal to ensure that the self is not the focus of corporate worship, but the Bridegroom.

This is the reason liturgical churches are structured the way they are: To foster death to self, and to encourage the vivacity of the body corporate. The only deadening thing about liturgical worship that is rejectable is not the formality. It's the ignorance with which people approach formality.

Remember, there are 166 other hours of the week wherein each soul can go about fulfilling itself. But the life of the Church will be neither long nor relevant as long as relevance is nothing more than catering to the self-needs of a very narcissistic age.

Let me conclude with one anecdote and one liturgical lesson.

When I was deeply involved in a fairly mainline evangelical church, I recall once sitting in the back of the 400-member church during "Prayer and Praise," that "relevant" point in much church worship where a praise band leads the congregants through a myriad of (usually self-absorbed) praise choruses, with said choruses projected on a screen for all to see. Well, this particular church was fairly free-spirited, encouraging those who were "moved" by the Holy Ghost to stand up with hands raised if so led; or to even leap into the aisles and, apparently like King David, dance (though not naked) in holy bliss before God. Eventually tamborines and small drums (make a joyful noise) and even banners were clanged, banged and twirled in a dizzying display of expression. Of course, many folks were led to sit still, to stay low.

Well, this one particular day, while sitting with the elderly and handicapped, I noticed a curious thing. Suddenly, one and two rows ahead of us, a group of young men, clearly on holy fire, leapt to their feet, mouths filled with song, hands raised high above their heads. They were indeed enraptured with the Lord, moved by His Spirit to surrender all. Of course, none of them noticed, or heard, that the Lord must've moved them strangely, for now they blocked the view of others behind them: the handicapped and elderly could now no longer see the choruses projected on the screen. And despite the gentle remonstrances which could not be heard over the joyful noise, the young men failed to be moved by God towards what can only be called courtesy. No doubt the young men felt fulfilled in their mighty experience of God's presence.

It is this sort of chaos that liturgical worship deplores and resists. Sort of the way baseball resists the ball-hog, the show-off who needs to be first. For ball-hogs play soccer and basketball or hockey (puck-pigs); they do not play baseball, which is a very formal, even liturgical, sport. Nay, in liturgical worship the ball-hog is rendered silent and still.

When Episcopalians march into church in grand procession, why do they carry a crucifer before them, lifted high, leading the way? Is it mere empty formality? Is it mere show and excess? No, it is neither of those things. For the message is proclaimed on high: we can only approach God through the Cross. That is why, as the crucifer passes, Episcopalians bow and kneel, honestly acknowledging a wondrous fact. Just think that every facet of corporate worship is filled with such significance, with such reason and purpose! Every item and every word is pointed toward one thing: God is King, and we must treat Him as such.

At least for an hour.

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

[Part II may be found here.]

(This essay could not have been written without the inspiration drawn from Evangelical Is Not Enough, the truly beautiful book by Thomas Howard.)

Where Are You, Saint Geneviéve?

[Oiks! For the first time in Contratimes history, I have posted an essay that BEGAN with a dangling participle, and a funny one at that. Those of you familiar with this blog know that I am obsessed with proper grammar and spelling. Of course, occasionally I work a verbal flourish or two into my posts, experimenting with language. I am bound to get burned by such bold(!) risk-taking. Nevertheless, I will not take the risk of leaving that dangling monstrosity here for you to find. It's gone. Apologies! And to you verbal sticklers, yes, I am quite aware that I've kept a sentence fragment in line two. ]

It was one of the worst stories ever. Until Saturday.

About ten years ago, on a warm summer evening around dinnertime, while I was driving home from a day at the newspaper office, the New Hampshire Major Crime Unit vehicle, blue lights a-flashing, zoomed past me. I spun around, clicked on my radio scanner, and accelerated in hot pursuit. That the vehicle was going anywhere was big news, sent as it was from the state capital toward any serious crime. So my giving chase was proper for a staff photographer. Plus, I had a nose for big news: this just FELT like something big.

The Crime Unit team made little conversation on the radio (big news is for a while a big secret), but they made great headway on the highway. I could easily lose track of their van-like vehicle, since it was traveling at a high rate of speed with lights and sirens at the ready. So I had to rely on my own experience as a news "first responder," guessing the vehicle's route and dodging traffic lights with several high-rev rushes down side-streets. Eventually the crime squad traveled out of my paper's coverage area, being now four towns away from the center of my paper's more eastern interests. But I went ahead anyway, down windy roads, finally tucking my car right behind the vehicle's bumper. Then, rather suddenly, we came to a police roadblock. The major crime team went ahead, and I was sent packing, now more than 30 miles from where I had started.

But I didn't let it go. I sped over to the nearby shanty of a store and asked what the fuss was about. It seems that a highway worker, weedwhacking the lonely guardrails by an old, tiny, roadside quarry, was in the right place, in the right time, in the right light. For he just happened to look into the quarry's normally murky waters: there, floating 3 feet from the bottom was a naked human body, chained and anchored to the quarry's dark deeps.

Immediately I called the daily paper that covered that small town, a town on the very fringes of most newspapers. I spoke to the reporter on duty. He had not heard a thing. He'd be right down.

The story turned out to be one of abject horror. A young learning-disabled man, well-known in his sleepy little western Massachusetts town, had been befriended by some notorious, sick-minded hillbilly-types. They were townies all. For reasons still unclear, this young man was abducted by his "friends." He was chained to a radiator in an upstairs bedroom in a house these men shared. There he was held for months, hardly without food. He was burned, electrocuted, raped and sodomized repeatedly. He was fed feces. He eventually died and was hauled up to New Hampshire.

When the medical examiner submitted his report, he stated that the victim was the most tortured victim he had ever seen. If I am not mistaken, the victim had lost over 100 pounds during his ordeal. He was emaciated beyond description: he weighed about 60 pounds.

Eventually, all perpetrators were caught (one not far from here), convicted, sentenced, and sent away. One story emerged about the ring leaders, two brothers behind the scheme, who were true hicks raised in violence. In fact, a few years before the crime, upon the death of their father -- a man notoriously defiant of local laws and regulations -- the brothers and their family propped the old patriarch's corpse up on their flatbed truck, his hand fixed in a vile gesture. They put vulgar signs around him, signs mocking the town fathers; and then they drove the truck through town, past the town hall and over to the selectmen's respective homes. If memory serves me well, I think they did that for more than just one day.

Sadly, I cannot remember the murder victim's name. It is almost too disgusting of a story to want to know more, or to remember further intimate details. But it is the kind of story one thinks can only happen once; it is the sort of evil one might expect to hear about in the backwaters of the world. It is surely NOT the kind of story one expects to hear about in Paris. But read this excerpt from Saturday's Wall Street Journal, a commentary by Matthew Kaminski†:

On Jan. 20 ... 23-year-old Ilan Halimi [a Frenchman] ... went for a rendezvous with a young woman he met at his store [he sold cellular phones] and fell right into the hands of his kidnappers. ... Ilan was whisked to the cité de la Pierre-plate, a large housing project in Bagneux, a Paris suburb (or banlieue). ... In an empty third-floor apartment and later a basement utility room, he was tortured. ... Several times ... the kidnappers called Ilan's family [Jewish] and read them verses of the Quran while their son screamed in agony in the background. ... After 25 days of torture ... [l]ast week, on a Monday morning, Ilan was found naked, handcuffed, with burns and bruises over 80% of his body, stumbling on train tracks in Sainte-Geneviéve-des-Bois*, south of Paris. He died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

[Kaminski's commentary is based on a WSJ report by Nidra Poller, listed as Today's Must Read in the Contratimes sidebar.]

Evil does not really have a religious face. Religion is about the obliteration of evil, not the propagation of it. While there is evidence that Mr. Halimi's death was not religiously or even ethnically motivated, too often such crimes are in fact so motivated. But the religious that would act thusly wear the black hood of their perverted religion over their heads: they are the executioner on the gallows. They are not warring for God, but against Him.

So too are the hillbilly sickos that once lived not that far from my home. How is it that such evil lurks in the hearts of men (and women)? How is it that humans have the capacity for such perversions; and how is it that we can become inured to them, even indifferent to them?

I do remember Ilan Halimi's name. It is a name I hope never to forget.

Peace to you, dear Ilan.

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

†Excerpted from "Barbarians Inside the Gate;" Matthew Kaminski, Wall Street Journal/The Weekend Journal, 2/25-6/06, page A10.
*It is interesting that Saint Geneviéve allegedly prophesied invasions and disasters for Paris.

Addendum #2

School vacation week is over, and thus I am able to return to my responsibilities here. It's not that I haven't been out and about on the blogosphere. I have been rather busy elsewhere, involved in discussions about pacifism, sacramentalism, goddess-worship and sundry other topics. No, I have not been Gandalf warring with the Balrog, nor do I return as a White Wizard. In fact, it is more likely that I return greyer than ever.

A few notes before I return to what it is I do here. First, continuing with the Larry Summers resignation from Harvard, I want to add this detail culled from a Wall Street Journal (2/22/06) article about the matter. President Summers, or so it is reported, apparently did not win the praises of Jack R. Meyer, the former CEO of Harvard Management Corporation (HMC). According to the article, HMC manages Harvard's paltry endowment of $25 billion. Apparently Meyer was "disappointed Mr. Summers didn't stand up to alumni critics who contended that some of [HMC's] employees were too highly paid." Of course, I can understand Meyer's concerns, as the top two investment managers at HMC earned a mere pittance, with one earning in fiscal 2003 $35. 1 million and the other $34.1 million. And to think that bad Mr. Summers would not chastise critics who thought these folks were paid too much!

But for most of us here at Contratimes, we find ourselves disturbed by the realization that if we were to take the endowments of most of the towns we live in, we would not only not reach Harvard's level of endowment, we might not even reach the dollar amounts some HMC folks earn in a year.

Second, I am glad that I have shown restraint regarding the Dubai Ports Authority brouhaha that emerged ex nihilo overnight last week. My initial reaction was one of incredulity: How could Washington be so politically naive? But as I've winnowed the wheat from the chaff, I am a bit relieved to learn that not all is as scary as I heard from both ends of the political spectrum. While Dubai/United Arab Emirates may in fact be a Trojan Horse, a very westernized deception that portends disaster in the future for America; and while the whole thing is at the very least bad PR, the deal itself is not as dire as initially reported.

What is interesting, though, is the fear-mongering about Dubai by those who claim that President Bush is the master of promoting fear. What is the message of Bush's critics? Those Arabs are dangerous!!!

Peace!

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

Larry Summers Resigns Himself To Arithmetic: Harvard Minus 1

No doubt you've already heard. Harvard University President Lawrence Summers, who has been hammered with criticism from Harvard's Arts and Sciences faculty since his birth, has resigned from his post. God forbid any institution should have atop its administration a controversial, confrontational, free-speaking, free-thinking leader. But I speak from the sidelines, so perhaps I should just mind my own business.

However, as a result of this news, I cannot mind my own business, nor can I resist reprinting an essay originally posted at Contratimes in May, 2005, called "A Fifty-Million Dollar Apology For Simple Math." The original comments posted by a woman stridently supportive of Hillary Clinton's presidency are also included. Suffice it to say that my interlocutor took "umbrage" with my ideas.

Enjoy.

A Fifty-Million Dollar Apology For Simple Math

For those of you formerly riveted by the humble 2004 presidential campaign of Carol Mosley Braun, you'll recall that one of her campaign slogans was "'Take the 'Men Only' sign off the White House door." Women supporters of her hoped-for presidency applauded her vigorous support of promoting women everywhere.

Jump with me to the rather recent remarks of Harvard University President Lawrence H. Summers, who made the rather inglorious suggestion that women might have an intrinsic disadvantage for success in the hard sciences and mathematics. At the moment of his alleged misarticulation, Umbrage replaced Veritas on the Harvard emblem, as truth fell victim to indignation and outrage. For it was suggested - from on high, no less - that men and women might be different; a suggestion that threatens the sacrosanct political dogma of equality between the sexes.

Hence, yesterday, in an apparent gesture of contrition for offending good sense, President Summers announced that Harvard has earmarked $50 million for investing in the futures market of women and minority faculty recruitment, particularly in the sciences. In effect, Summers' announcement is an apology for simple math.

And here is that math:

4, four, 6-2, square root of 16, 2x=8, IV, the number of winning games needed to win a World Series, the number of seasons, the number of legs on a moose -- each of these is equal, one to another. Each are different ways of writing the number 4. Four is equal to 36/9. 2 squared equals 1/2 times 8. You get the picture.

Hence, if men and women are equal, the following MUST be the case:

Bill Clinton equals Hillary Clinton; Carol Mosley Braun equals George W. Bush; (any woman) = (any man); a woman president and a man president comprise a tautology.

See the problem? Surely Carol Mosley Braun does not. For she believes (and she campaigned for the presidency ardently on this belief, with myriad women cheering her on), that the 'Men Only' sign needs to be removed from the White House, which is non-sensical if men and women are equal. For there is nothing to gain having a woman in the White House if she is equal to a man. Why have a woman president, ever, if WOMAN equals MAN? What is gained writing 'Five minus 1' instead of '4', if both values are the same?

So then, when the Harvard president dares depart from the rudiments of simple math, or for merely doing simple math, when discussing male/female differences, it strikes me not as vicious sexism. It's good thinking.

Besides, our lives are replete with examples that contradict Man=Woman. Remember "Men are from Mars; Women are from Venus?" Remember that men are "less in touch with their emotions than women?" Remember that men NEVER ask for directions?

Admittedly, these are anecdotal, but when anecdotes can be heaped as high as mountain peaks, one might begin to suspect such anecdotes amount to a pile of evidence. Men are exactly what compared to women when it comes to using a TV remote? Women are what compared to men when it comes to working in the kitchen? Men are what compared to women in nearly every TV commercial regarding parenting, or going to Circuit City, or buying a Hemi-powered Dodge Durango? Men and women are what when it comes to pornography? Women are what compared to men when depicted in HBO's "Sex and the City"? Oh, that's right. Men and women are different when compared one to another.

What do nearly ALL American women in politics believe about themselves? They believe that they bring an INTRINSICALLY different perspective to the public square than that possessed by men. Does anyone believe that Hillary Clinton believes her sex plays no part in her political views? Does anyone believe that feminists concede their perspectives are the same as those of Jimmy-John and Danny-Don Swampson from Boonstoon-on-Blackwater, Alabama?

Understanding that men and women are intrinsically different requires not one credit hour of study at Harvard University. (An NPR report a few years back featured a study that indicated men intrinsically navigate large spaces better than women, while women navigate smaller spaces better than men; with said differences rooted in evolution, with men as hunters and women as home-keepers. Where's the outrage?! I also recall studies suggesting that men perform the mental operation of viewing abstract 3-D objects [mentally, mind you] better than women.)

But it need not matter what studies show us, because every day we have women, conservative and liberal, reminding us how different they are from men. Conservative women, however, truly believe in those differences, are comfortable with them, and largely hold no animus or jealously that men do some tasks better (and some worse). Liberal women, by contrast, shout about equality, writing essays and tracts about the glass ceiling and corporate identities, and yet constantly remind us in that very act of protest that they see things, feel things, and think things in a different - and (allegedly) better - way than the men whose positions they want. In short, their very cries for equality prove they are not equal.

Really, Mr. Summers is right: Math is a problem for women.

At least some of them.

©Bill Gnade 2005/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved


Jami said...

judging by you, logic is a problem for some men. you say, in essence, that if two things are equal, then this other condition should not be met. that is, there should never be a man in the white house either if men and women are equal.

but this is all silly wanking no self-respecting woman should bother with. i agree that men and women are different, with different strengths and weaknesses. these vary from person to person so much, that we should just judge either a man or a woman on his or her qualifications.

hillary has 'em.


contratimes said...

Jami,

Thanks for your comments, and thanks for dropping by.

I don't know what you are saying: Is there something I've said that is illogical?

You are absolutely right in your assertion that I think there should be no MAN in the White House if women and men are equal: If a woman is a good president, then why ever have a man serve in the White House if he and she are equal? I am completely consistent in my thinking.

I have not in any way spoken illogically. In fact, the only illogicality we can find is in those who insist that men and women are EQUAL, and yet insist that a woman SHOULD BE and/or MUST BE in the White House. But you've already stated that you think that men and women are different, and therefore NOT equal, and thus you validly deduce that it would be great if a woman were president. Having a woman serve in the White House would be DIFFERENT than if a man served, proving that men and women are NOT equal.

The problem lies in the understanding of equality. Equality should mean "equal worth". Instead it means "interchangeable" or even "identical." But men and women are VASTLY different. And each man and woman is VASTLY important and valuable, equally so, but even that falls short. Why? Because "equal value" implies that we can divine "how much" men and women are worth. Moreover, I think men and women are equally immeasureably valuable; infinitely worthy. But I do not think that men and women are physically, mentally, spiritually, or even intellectually identical, interchangeable, OR equal, in the common sense use of that word. In other words, I believe in psycho-sexual diversity between the sexes, and not the bland, insipid, monotonous consciousness which deadens so much of the romance, intrique, mystery, diversity and complexity that exists between men and women these days.

As for Hillary, she is neither smart enough nor kind enough to be president. I am not saying that because she is a woman. I am saying that because it is true.

Now I KNOW you don't agree with me on that, but at least I've been honest with you.

Again, thanks for coming by. It means a lot to me that you would share your thoughts, particularly when you think I have a problem with logic.

But I must say you came right at me with a gross yet popular stereo-type: I am, to you, just another one of those dumb men.

Peace to you, always.

Well, there you go. Good luck to Harvard, though it seems to me the school should be blushing crimson.

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

Lost Boys Of The Infinitely Gentle Warrior God

Some of my readers know that I am a Christian. Many of you, however, might not know that small fact; perhaps most don't even care. Nor might any of my readers care that I define myself as a "Neo-Orthodox Catholic Episcopalian," though, if I may say so, such a description did once befuddle, to my amusement, the wife of a Unitarian minister (he was my friend). "What could you mean by that?" she asked, confusion strewn across her face. I smiled, leaving her to guess. Why be explicit?

Yesterday I happened upon a C-Span broadcast of Book TV. The guest was Wheaton College professor and C. S. Lewis scholar, Alan Jacobs, who was speaking in Cambridge, MA about his newest release, The Narnian: The Life and Imagination of C. S. Lewis. I caught only the last few minutes of his talk. In answer to the final question posed to him about how C. S. Lewis might confront the postmodern zeitgeist and what Lewis means to us today, Jacobs answered something like this:

Lewis would still bring his erudition and talent to the world of ideas, but he no doubt would have had to educate himself differently than the staid, monochromatic education he received in post-Victorian, Oxonian England. The world, after all, is now a far more diverse place, particularly in Oxford. But he would still speak about virtue, about its timeless and wondrous power; and he would share his intellect and faith without condescension or abuse, never suggesting that his interlocuters were dumb, stupid or blind. But most of all, he would speak to the world about faith like a lover praises his beloved; he would present with elegance and gentility the immeasurable glories of Christianity, boasting of its incomparable beauty. For it was beauty that caught Lewis' breath; it is the beauty of virtue and grace that permeates his writings, which imbues every fiber and tendril, every hue and shade, of Narnia.

Lewis has long been an inspiration to me. I recall the first time I went to a Christian bookstore as a high-school senior. After poring over titles and the names of writers who meant nothing to me, I landed on a collection of essays called The Joyful Christian, by Mr. Lewis. Only a few of my readers would know that I had never heard of Lewis, that my childhood and my education were not what one might call literary or cosmopolitan, or even one whit cerebral. I merely landed on Lewis the way a gull lights upon the shore of a far-inland pond, tossed there by hurricane winds. And when I approached the check-out counter with my selection, the proprietor of the little shop earnestly said to me, giving all due care to my nascent Christian soul, "You don't want to read that. It's awfully heady."

I won't lie to anyone and say that my forays into Lewis' thought were done so with great ease or facility. Far from it. But he spoke to me like few writers have; and his prose stirred yearnings and longings buried deep in my breast. For in my heart I knew what kind of Christian I wanted to be (even, perhaps, the kind I already was); and Lewis, as Aslan's ambassador, called me forth.

But I was far more a lost boy of Neverland than I was a warrior for the Narnian King. My acceptance into a Christian college was achieved by my begging the assistant dean of admissions for a chance, a chance that was granted with the caveat that I immediately be placed on academic probation. Even then, success came slowly; I recall being mocked by my dormmate, a freshman of high standing who was given the school's highest scholarship honors, when I mispronounced "piety" (a new word for me, at least in conversation, I had found in Plato's Euthyphro), which I thought must sound like "deity." And when I say scoffed, I report something vicious and mean; there was no charity in that moment of injury (which still bleeds, at times). I would shake off, often, many other blunders of mind and speech, embarrassing myself in moments of over-reaching, but I managed to graduate with near perfect grades in my two majors, theology and philosophy. Not bad for a lost boy who graduated near the very bottom of his high school class, wits dulled by self-abuse, indifference, and nary a night off the streets.

This post is not about idolizing Lewis, though he is one of my many mentors in the faith. This is not even really about my faith, nor is it about the distinct grace bestowed upon me by Jesus the Christ. My life is about that grace and faith. But when I write occasionally at Contratimes about the mystery that saved me from hitchhiking to an early death, I pray that I honor the example set for me by my elders: that there is incomparable beauty in the Christian faith; that even if false, even if mere fantasy, it is more beautiful than the most articulate truth. Give me the lie that is Christianity over the vulgarity of irresistible accuracy. I am smitten by the Prince who is both rich and raggéd; I am saved by the love of King for His peasants; I am delivered by the King who comes as pauper, dying to save the Queen he thought he'd never see again. This lost boy may still be lost, but I am lost in beauty, a beauty which is my home.

Forgive me if I have failed to act here in a way commensurate with my alleged commitment to grace and beauty, and to the kind King who adores His Bride. After all, I am not of pure pedigree. Much of me remains uncouth, unwashed. Still guilty of over-reaching, I live the baptism which purifies; the purgatory which lifts the dross to the surface. Beneath that surface may there someday be found a heart of gold; the gold that walks on golden streets where lost boys are found.

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

[Note: This essay was inspired by two things. First, I want to thank Brad at Broken Messenger (what a great name) for his work which touched my heart. Second, I was contacted this morning via email by an old college roommate, a genius of a man, now a doctor, husband, father. He and I have not seen each other face-to-face, one-on-one, for nearly 15 years. But in college he ministered to me like few men have, with all grace, patience, and steadfast love. In intellectual might I was Watson's shoelaces to his Sherlock Holmes; the stall-mucker to his Secretariat; the comma in the paragraph of his prose. PJD listened to me, with never a derisive word, and he wordlessly pushed me beyond what I thought I could be. Among male college friends he stands with CBS (the meteorologist), JSW (the poet-prosecutor), CS (the inimitable financial advisor), BD (of ESPN fame), JS (the banker), NS (the philosopher woodworker), JC (the bassoonist), JV (the psychologist), BW (my first roomie) and the late MS. But it was a gift of God that PJD was standing next to me when I was derided for mispronouncing "piety." To him, and all these gentle Christian men, I bow in thanks.]

A Nobody Talks About Somebody

There is no way I can explain why I am no fan of Bill Maher's, the sardonic host of HBO's Real Time. Perhaps I am jealous of his Cornell degree in English, or that he dated Ann Coulter (but that she allegedly dated him and Bob Guccione, Jr., the Penthouse heir-apparent, gives me sudden pause). Perhaps it's because he is popular and I am on the very fringes of pop-culture (please note that my new sidebar link to Technorati shows that, among blogs, mine is ranked 274,404th, proving that I must be a household name in at least one home; sadly, it is not my home). [Addendum, 7 June 06: There is more on Ann Coulter here. And it should be announced that Contratimes is now ranked at 107, 095 out of 43.3 million blogs, or in the top .2 percent of blogs tracked by Technorati. But I am still a nobody.]

Recently Bill Maher was feted, so to speak, in a very gracious article by Katrina Rollins published at Frontpagemag.com. The article's title speaks loudly: "Bill Maher: Patriot." In Ms. Rollins' piece, she lauds Mr. Maher for clearly understanding politically-correct anxieties, particularly as they inhibit security screening techniques such as "profiling;" and that such political-correctness makes all Americans vulnerable to terrorism. According to Rollins, Maher "gets" what the enemy is, its nature; as he also "gets" America's inability to protect itself with the absurd and ineffective security measures employed throughout the country. (Ms. Rollins' piece, I should point out, focuses on Maher's book, When You Ride Alone, You Ride With Bin Laden.)

I am, however, surprised that Mr. Maher would be deemed a "patriot," particularly when he is generally so overtly critical of most, if not all, things conservative. I have no doubt he is a patriot, a lover of his fatherland. But I am surprised that he would win this appellation from Frontpagemag.com. Perhaps there is something I do not know about the conservatism endorsed by Frontpagemag.com.

Here is a quote from Maher's Tuesday interview on MSNBC's Hardball with Chris Matthews (bold added for emphasis):

Look, you know, Chris, you don't have to sell me on Dick Cheney being a bad guy, and just to go back to what you mentioned before, about the connection between Iraq and 9-11 -- to me, that was always a much bigger lie than the one that most people focused on, which is weapons of mass destruction. Weapons of mass destruction, we know they cherry-picked the intelligence, yada-yada-yada. But we also know that the Clintons and a lot of other Democrats, a lot of people on the other side of the aisle always thought that maybe Saddam had weapons.

To me, that was not the most egregious lie. But a connection between Iraq and the people who did that to us? That was the bigger lie, and that‘s the one that Cheney kept pushing. I don't have the quotes before me, but I remember they were very carefully crafted, so the beginning of the sentence started out talking about 9-11 and the terrorists, and the end of the sentence was always, and if we could strike them at the very geographical base where they come from. So he conflated the two (events) and the truth is, that if Saddam Hussein, as bad as he is, was in power right now, he would be a bulwark against terrorism, just the way we put rotten dictators in the communist era on the throne, so that they would be bulwarks against communism. Saddam would never have allowed a rival power base like Zarqawi in his country.

One wonders how Frontpagemag.com now feels about their accolade of Maher, considering that Ms. Rollins' piece pre-dated Maher's Hardball interview. That Maher believes Hussein would be a "bulwark," a bastion of resistance, against terrorism, is sad, suggesting that Hussein would be a force of good, against terrorism, if we had simply let him be. Let us ignore that Maher's beloved Bill Clinton signed into law the Iraq Liberation Act in 1998 calling for regime change, a law inherited by Mr. Bush. Let us ignore that it was Osama bin Laden in his 1998 fatwa against the West who made Iraq a central part of his later attacks on America. Let us ignore that it was Democrat Senator Jay Rockefeller who told us, from the Senate floor, that Hussein was an imminent threat; let us ignore all these things and ask ourselves a question: Does anyone really believe that Cheney is responsible for allegedly misleading us about Iraq?

Yes, of course, Bill Maher does, and one can only conclude that Mr. Maher was not listening,† was not paying attention. That's usually the case with the smart ass in class: he's too busy straining to make a wisecrack for him to listen to what is actually being said. Of course, he's a millionaire wise guy with his own show, along with several fairly popular books. He, I admit, is somebody, a patriot par excellence.

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

†Compare Maher's Hardball quote with this from Rollins' article: Maher also recognizes the absurdity of the “American abuse of power” charges: “No country with comparable power ever trod so gently on the rest of the world, something foreigners [and many Americans, he should add] often pretend they don’t know…. Name another nation that could conquer the world, but chose not to.”

Secretary Of Defense

If there's one good thing that came out of Triggergate, it is this photo collage. I thank my blogging friend emaw_kc for lifting my spirits by sharing it on his blog. However, Mr. emaw_kc might be right–that the collage is in poor taste. But I don't always walk about in rarefied air. Occasionally I stoop to pick up a penny or turn my ear to a joke shared between common men. Propriety in these matters is for the tender and the persnickety. I shall laugh here, with alacrity. It is worth more than a few pennies.

A Shooting Explained In Cartoons

I have a theory, and when I have a theory I am more dangerous than Dick Cheney with a 28-gauge shotgun at sunset. Way more dangerous. But today I am going to connect some dots, dots that reach into the War on Terror, the Danish cartoons that have incited riots, and the common belief that the Bush Administration is rogue and threatening. I hope I will not strain myself as I reach from dot to dot, and I pray I will not stretch your credulity.

Let us begin with stark political facts. Over the last few weeks even the most pro-Democratic Party pundit would have a hard time defending the claim that the Democrats have had great success of late. The failure to have a meaningful showing in either rather recent US Supreme Court nomination hearings is surely baneful for Democrats; the failure to get any meaningful gain in Democrats' posturing around "domestic" wiretapping, misnamed as that is, by the Bush Administration; and failure to get any meaningful gains regarding the Party's constant complaining (like a harridan?) about the Iraq War; all these combine to make the Party look out of touch. And the recent absurdities uttered by former VP Al Gore, and the gratuitous grandstanding at the Coretta Scott King funeral by former President Jimmy Carter, portend bad days for Democrats.

Now, there are two very significant assertions made hourly by Democrats in America, and they are: America is less safe as a result of President Bush's invasions in Iraq and Afghanistan; and the Bush Administration is the most arrogant and secretive administration in history. These two ideas are repeated so often, mantra-like, they may as well be planks in the DNC platform. But there are two other assertions that have been made so often they are no longer even uttered, becoming footings in the foundations of Democratic mythology: Dick Cheney is always in hiding, and he is the de facto President of the United States.

It is easy to be fooled, but not as easy as it is to fool. Comedian, political author and pundit, Bill Maher posited for our rumination the following on Hardball with Chris Matthews on Tuesday:

Look, you know, Chris, you don‘t have to sell me on Dick Cheney being a bad guy, and just to go back to what you mentioned before, about the connection between Iraq and 9-11 -- to me, that was always a much bigger lie ... That was the bigger lie, and that's the one that Cheney kept pushing. I don't have the quotes before me, but I remember they were very carefully crafted, so the beginning of the sentence started out talking about 9-11 and the terrorists, and the end of the sentence was always, and if we could strike them at the very geographical base where they come from [ie. Iraq].

It would be easy to laugh at Maher, not because he is funny, but because he is not. Most snarky critics of the VP suggest - daily - that the VP is always in hiding, passing through America incognito. And yet they are the first to suggest that the VP sold us on the Iraq War, which would be hard to do if he's constantly in seclusion, ostensibly lying to us in absentia. But somehow Maher places the responsibility of connecting Iraq and 9/11 squarely on Cheney. Obviously Maher is not alone.

Each of us has heard the jokes and snark: Cheney, knowing what he knows now, would still shoot Harry Whittington; America has found the weapon of mass destruction--Dick Cheney; Cheney loads, aims, fires, and then ask questions later, blaming the victim. It is all typical boilerplate, inextricably linked to convictions that Cheney is arrogant, secretive, the de facto president and responsible for the War. Come to think of it, the portrait sketched of Cheney is suggestive of a cartoon character.

And cartoons do indeed play a part here. For it is my conviction that the reason many of America's most progressive newspapers refuse to print Danish cartoons critical of Islamic extremists' perversions of orthodox Islam has nothing to do with the noble protection of Islamic sentiments. It is not an effort to bring peace between warring civilizations; nor is it the praiseworthy act of placing love of one's neighbor over the love of one's right to free expression. For there is no way in hell that America's greatest defenders of speech would be so cavalier about speech.

What is going on here is subtle: the liberal establishment would like to discover anything that proves their thesis that Americans are less safe in the wake of Bush foreign policy. And it has discovered such a thing in the cartoons: America, even Europe, is so unsafe the press is even fearful of printing cartoons. Rather than things improving under Bush, things have deterioriated dramatically. Simple cartoons place us in peril! Cartoons like Dick Cheney, who created this whole war in the first place.

Triggergate is a media distraction from many things. One ignored facet of the cartoon riots is that the riots prove there is a real enemy out there; but not one provoked by American policies or actions, but by pure European values. All this media-hype steers us away from looking at what makes radical Islam radical, filled with radical hate for the West. How unfortunate. But the distraction is even more thorough, for the American press is going to worship this shooting event as a divine revelation, a miraculous vision that proves, without a doubt, everything they've tried to prove for 5 years: that "Cheney is in charge," that both President and VP are "above the law," fudging intelligence (such as fudging the details of the shooting) and manipulating the media; that both men are tyrants that shoot first and ask questions later.

That is what this is about. Politics. Not truth.

Lastly, for those who believe that the VP would have been better served to announce the shooting immediately, I offer the following:

David Gregory (in a parallel, parodied universe): Several White House officials are expressing concern tonight that Vice President Cheney's initial reaction to having shot Mr. Whittington was self-serving. Even NBC's Jay Leno got into the act, joking last night that Mr. Cheney's first reaction to the mishap was to run over to Harry Whittington and ask for his cell phone. According to Mr. Leno, Cheney called Fox News' Brit Hume and told him that he was completely responsible for the shooting.

Actually, Contratimes' witnesses of the shooting report that Cheney, after shooting at the flushed quail, rushed over to the fallen Whittington, his eyes searching left and right, up and down. My sources tell me that Whittington, aware that Cheney was in a panic, gingerly rolled over onto his side and reached behind his back. "You looking for this?" Whittington asked Cheney. The two men locked eyes, and Cheney offered a small grin. Whittington, though in pain, then flipped Cheney the bird.

[By the way, at least one Democrat suggests that Cheney intentionally delayed the report to inflate the story, knowing that the inflated story would steer the media away from problems in the White House, the War on Terror, and sundry other problems. See the seventh comment, made by David Porter, at the Democratic National Committee's Blog.]

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

Triggergate Reloaded

I know that I overdid it yesterday, but my immersion in the Dick Cheney shooting is not without intent: I want to point out how easy it is to churn out fodder for readers of any ilk. It is easy to ridicule, as easy as it is to flatter and blindly praise. Dick Cheney is no friend of mine, nor is anyone in the White House (including the press corps). But the frenzy around this story, entirely media driven (the media are ticked off!), is worth noticing with eyes wide open.

This is how distorted things are: Right now, as I type, radio talk show host Jim Braude of the Eagan & Braude show on 96.9 FM in Boston, has opined, with passion, that a local murder, where a British citizen kills his wife and daughter with one shot in their beautiful Massachusetts home, is LESS important, by far, than an accidental non-lethal hunting accident which involves the Vice President of the United States. Considering that the British citizen and young husband fled the country, returning to England; that he went through an extradition hearing (he waived extradition); that Scotland Yard was involved; that this is considered LESS important than an accident is a sorry bit of news. Add to this the national and international fascination with the "Entwistle Murders;" that Mr. Entwistle is the new Scott Peterson, and one discovers a story that is powerful, disturbing and wildly relevant: What is leading young, good-looking men of moderate success to kill their way out of their wedding vows?

Further Triggergate scandal-mongering is imminent, now that Dick Cheney is finally going to speak formally to a reporter about his misdeed. But the scandal is not that Cheney is speaking; it's that he is now speaking the wrong way. For instead of speaking to every reporter in the press pool, he is speaking (the shock!) exclusively to Fox News' Brit Hume. Shame, shame, shame.

Right now, former VP-candidate John Edwards, speaking via telephone on the Eagan & Braude show, has just said that the accident is "typical," typical of the sort of secrecy with which the Administration serves this country. (Edwards also just said that he believes that the Democrats need to assume the "moral leadership" of this country. It's all about morals, you see.)

Oiks! John Edwards, right now: "I don't believe in the same country as the country George Bush believes in."

So, this is the lesson: there are indeed TWO Americas, Bush's and Edwards'. Hence, I can understand why someone like Edwards takes umbrage with charges that his criticisms of a sitting, war-time President are unpatriotic, for Edwards is not criticizing America, he's criticizing that "other" country, the country that George Bush believes in. Edwards' country is the real America. It is there that his patriotism resides.

Talk about a unifier!

David Gregory and Dick Cheney

(When: at a press conference in the not-too-distant future. In light of recent frustrations voiced by NBC White House correspondent David Gregory about the White House's infuriating reticence regarding the Dick Cheney shooting, Vice President Cheney himself issues a public statement. Contratimes was there.)

Vice President Cheney (VP): Ladies and gentlemen of the press, Good Morning!

Everyone in attendance: Good morning!

VP: First, I will offer a complete statement on the events of February 11, 2006, surrounding the accident in which I shot a dear friend and fellow hunter, Harry Whittington. I will take your questions after I have finished my --

David Gregory (DG): Mr. President! Mr. President! I --

VP: As I said, David, I will answer your questions in a moment. First, let me begin by saying how deeply sorry I am all this has happened. I wish Harry a speedy and complete recovery. Mrs. Cheney and I are sleepless with grief over this matter ...

(At this point, the Vice President offers a thorough explanation of the incident, including the strong sidelighting due to the low sun as sunset approached, the thickness of the brush from which the quail flushed, and his reaction to the bloodied friend, whom he thought he had initially killed.)

VP: Please realize that Mr. Whittington initially appeared gravely wounded. The profusion of blood, and the situation of being miles from a hospital, compounded our initial reactions; it was difficult to ascertain whether Mr. Whittington was going to survive. As a result of that uncertainty, based at it was on the direct hit and Mr. Whittington's age, it was decided, among all of us in the Administration, that no public notice would be made until Mr. Whittington's next of kin were notified, and not until relations could meet him at the hospital. Had we prematurely announced details of the mishap, we did not want -- and you all know how this can happen -- we did not want the hospital to become a media staging area, a media circus, so to speak, that might hinder Mr. Whittington's family from being at his side due to an aggressive media presence. Once it was determined that Mr. Whittington's life was not in jeopardy, and once his most intimate relations were able to be with him, we made details available to the press. Lastly, it is our contention that only Mr. Whittington and his family had the sole legal right to inform the public as to his medical condition. We let him and his family control the release of many of the details about the incident.

Unfortunately, having heard today that Mr. Whittington's health has deteriorated on the very day his condition had earlier improved, we have learned that our confidence in our initial announcements was overly optimistic. Now, for your questions.

DG: Mr. Vice President, with all due respect sir, your statement appears to have 'control' written all over it. Are you at all aware of how this statement appears to the American people, that you are trying to control how this shooting is reported?

VP: David, I have stated the facts plainly, and you have before --

DG: The facts, yes, but the facts according to whom? With all due respect sir, the source of the facts is you, and you are, or so many Americans feel that you are, known to prefer a private, opaque administration. Do you not see how your words today reinforces Americans' view that you want to control this story?

VP: Well, David, as you have just heard, I have tried to control this story by no other means than by being transparent and truthful. There is nothing I am hiding or reluctant to discuss, though I am reluctant to discuss ad infinitum what I've already presented as the facts in the case --

DG: That, sir, is fine, but you are evading the question, which is whether you had been drinking on Saturday afternoon --

(The transcript abruptly ends here)

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

The Spinning Zone

I am pleased that as I listen to Bill O'Reilly's radio show right now, I hear he has made the same case that I made this morning: that the media will not approach the Al Gore speech in Saudi Arabia with the same sort of vigor as they will the Dick Cheney shooting.

Let's take a quick look at today's Washington Post. First, we have media commentator Howard Kurtz suggesting that Harry Whittington, who was shot by Mr. Cheney, was injured by buck shot (which is an aggressive pellet for killing large mammals). That Mr. Whittington was shot by size 7 1/2 bird shot seems irrelevant, considering the sensation Mr. Kurtz is intent on making. Next, there is the column by Eugene Robinson, Col. Jessep Goes A-Hunting, which begins with this: "I told you people Dick Cheney was dangerous." Mr. Robinson clarifies our muddy vision with the additional descriptive that Cheney is "trigger-happy," and "out of control" (and all this in the first few sentences). Then Post blogger Joel Achenbach needed to bring us even more clarity, enlightening us about "Dead-eye Dick" and the Hamilton/Burr duel; at the same time Dan Froomkin weighs in with his "Shoots, Hides, and Leaves" (original title!). Not to be outdone, the Post's editors give us today's lead editorial, "When The Veep Shoots Someone." All this about an accident which, according to The New York Times, was not a reportable event according to Texas Law, being a non-fatal hunting accident.

Moreover, note that all this was posted by the Post while everyone was under the impression that the wounds were not life-threatening. However, minutes ago it was reported that some bird pellets have injured Mr. Whittington's heart, leading to a heart attack. Imagine the news-cycle now.

Lastly, in all of the garment-rending going on about the slowness by which the media were informed, it should be noted that The New York Times printed five --five!!-- letters to the editor. That's some turnaround for a public that's left in the darkness (or so it goes, on and on)!!

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

Addendum

Some problems have arisen here, so please forgive some of the bad links and other such C-grade mishaps associated with my sidebar. I am working on a few changes here. Be patient.

One new thing is an addendum to this site. There I will be posting poems associated with essays that appear here. The first poem, "Large Members Only," is linked to Saturday's essay, Let Us Be Slaves No Longer: An Appeal To Men. It is a raw look at sexuality and addiction, and the culture which perpetuates degradation and exploitation.

Peace.

Two Vice Presidents, Two Different Stories

This is a post about the news. It is not a post praising the Vice President of the United States, Dick Cheney; nor shall he be damned here. Yes, of course, I know that the VP shot a man over the weekend while hunting quail at a private ranch in Texas. Yes, of course, I realize that the VP is now fodder for media griping and Comedy Channel mockery. But I am not interested in any of that. I am interested in what's been reported about the incident.

Let me set it up: At around 5:30 pm (the sun sets around 6:10 in Texas on this date) Saturday afternoon, VP Cheney shot a man who was in the brush 90 feet away. Cheney was using a 28-gauge shotgun (the second smallest, after the .410) with bird shot shells (the least potent). Pellets hit the man, Harry Whittington, a 78-year-old lawyer, who, according to eyewitness statements, had failed to inform the hunting party that he was approaching through the brush in a manner or direction that was out of protocol. The victim was taken to a local hospital; he is out of intensive care and is in a private room, with wounds to head, face, neck and chest. One relative described the victim's injuries as looking like "chicken pox."

OK. That's about it. But a scandal is brewing. You see, the speed with which the Washington press corps learned of the event was too slow, coming in dribs and drabs, full of adumbrations. The press corps is steaming that a Corpus Christi, TX paper (small time, to the press corps) was the first to report the incident. And now, vengeance, which will manifest itself in reminders of White House arrogance; and that there is a conspiracy afoot, namely that Cheney was drunk and the delay was about concealment.

But perhaps the New York Times offers us the most important line in all of this "controversy," found in paragraph 17 of its page 1 story: "There is no requirement to report nonfatal hunting accidents in Texas, said Lydia Saldana, the communications director for the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department." It seems, then, that if we are talking about strict legalities here, the VP's story is even more transparent than one might believe, dependent as we are on news media to inform us on such matters.

Here's another interesting report, from the New York Daily News. That paper reports that Cheney was hunting illegally:

Vice President Cheney had no license to kill - quail, that is.

After the White House reluctantly conceded yesterday that it sat on the blockbuster news that Cheney shot a hunting buddy Saturday, the veep's office revealed he didn't even have the proper $7 stamp on his hunting license to shoot quail in Texas.

"The staff asked for all permits needed, but was not informed of the $7 upland game-bird stamp requirement," Cheney's office said in a statement last night.

Although he was hunting illegally when he blasted Austin millionaire Harry Whittington, Cheney will get off with a warning from the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department ...

Compare this with the New York Times (¶18, 19):

...Mr. Cheney's office said that a member of his staff had asked the Parks and Wildlife Department for all the necessary permits for the vice president to go hunting in Texas and had paid $140. But [Cheney's office] said, the staff member was not informed of the need for an additional stamp, costing $7, to allow hunting of upland game birds. ... Mr. Cheney has now sent a $7 check to the department.

Please take note of the difference between the two New York papers' reportage. The Daily News suggests that Cheney was hunting completely illegally (he was not, unless he shot at quail); the Times points out that he was indeed properly licensed to hunt, though without the proper stamp for a specific bird. That the State of Texas is fine with Cheney paying $7 after the fact is telling. But readers should be deeply saddened by the shoddy, manipulative and provocative journalism of the Daily News (and the rest of the media joining that sort of agitation).

***

Only days ago another Vice President shot something: he shot the rest of us in the head. Vice President Al Gore said at an economic forum in Saudi Arabia that after 9/11, the Saudis living in the United States were "indiscriminately rounded up, often on minor charges of overstaying a visa or not having a green card in proper order, and held in conditions that were just unforgivable. ...Unfortunately there have been terrible abuses and it's wrong. I do want you to know that it does not represent the desires or wishes or feelings of the majority of the citizens of my country."

I am glad that Gore wanted the Saudis to know that such actions don't represent the desires of most Americans. But I'd be even happier if Mr. Gore had told his Arab audience that he was lying. Moreover, as others have pointed out, it must be recalled that Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 9-11 posited for leftists' lust for such things that President Bush after 9/11 was overly kind and generous to Saudis in America. Facts be damned: it's the target that matters, and that target is President Bush.

If there is anything that upsets me in the Dick Cheney shooting incident, it is this: that the White House has now done something that removes media attention away from the real news, which is that former presidents and one notable vice president are undermining a sitting president.

Shame on Al Gore. He is a threat to our security, our freedom, our peace. His words are a "terrible abuse." And yet he gets away with this, carrying with him a very dated license from a vice presidency that was as insipid as, well, Quayle.

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

(For a great, terse essay on Gore, read John Gibson's My Word posted yesterday.)

Let Us Be Slaves No Longer: A Plea To Men

I wept last night, several times. You see, I was watching television, which is not usually my habit (particularly on a Friday night), and I found myself weeping as I watched the 2006 Winter Olympics opening ceremonies, particularly when the 9-year-old Italian girl sang the Italian national anthem; or when Pavarotti closed the show with transcendence. The pageantry and pyrotechnics were brilliant; and the Peace Dove, formed by white-clad humans scaling a vertical netted wall, was mindblowing (though the dove looked a bit hawkish, if you ask me). But I also wept when I jumped to another program, 20/20, during a segment by John Stossel that included footage of the killing of African elephants. I cannot tell you how this vulgarity slays me. It is an abuse unconscionable. (I am not referring to bonafide hunting of elephants as a vital natural resource by indigenous peoples.)

I am glad for channel-changing remote controls.

But something else really tore me up last night. Something that caused me to rend my garments; to rend my heart. It is the sort of demonic reality that should set the world afire with outrage. I am referring to slave trading, sexual slave trading. I urge my readers to watch PBS's Frontline documentary Sex Slaves; and I urge you to help fight the abuse of women (and children) in a trade that is, in fact, only a few mouse clicks away from this site. In fact, I urge you men, particularly, who, like me, struggle with even the casual visit to porn-sites on the WWW, to at least fight the darkness by refusing to click on a JPEG or MPEG that will cost a woman her soul. For it is all linked: prostitution, pornography, abuse: it is all part of the degradation of womanhood, of personhood, and, perhaps most of all, motherhood.

Men, lest we forget, are also victims of sexual degradation, in myriad ways. Battered women come in all forms: many of us are married to them, our wives having been victimized by fathers or brothers or former boyfriends (the worst culprits, usually), or the culture that begs women to throw their virtues to the wind. But we also, as men, know our own exploitation: We are told everyday in advertisments, books, magazines and porno-promos that sex is ALL we really want; that we are nothing but sex objects too, hungry with lust; that THEY know what we really, really need.

My conviction is that we men must stop the demand for the consumption of women by refusing to participate it in any form. Moreover, I believe we men must begin, perhaps in grand over-reaction, to honor women, elevating them if we must, by viewing their bodies, not as playgrounds, but as cathedrals, as sanctuaries, as temples of holy life. We must stop the tyranny, even if that tyranny turns a profit through increased ad revenue, circulation, retail sales, or web-traffic.

I confess that I am guilty. I have looked at photographs (many!) that are indeed indecent, photographs presented in ostensibly up-scale magazines like Playboy, Penthouse, or some such proper website. I apologize to the women that I've exploited, unwittingly perhaps, with each mouse click. I stand ashamed.

But I will fight nonetheless for the souls of women. I cannot express to you the horrors under which many women (and children) are living right now. As one woman said, a former sex slave, she did not know "that there could be places on this earth that could be so evil. ... I kept waiting for one of my clients (pause) to help me. ..." There are women abducted and sent to foreign soil, chained in rooms, serving up to sixteen men a day, sexually, perversely, in abject decadence worse than Dante's lowest tiers of hell. Governments and legal authorities turn blind eyes towards these obscenities; men and women participate in luring and trapping vulnerable girls in schemes that are nothing short of sick.

I weep today, and I pray my tears are not for show, are not in vain. There is no hope for this planet if we do not honor women; if the womb is reduced to a commodity. I beg you to pray for me, and all earnest men, that we will fight, genuinely, for the glory of mother, daughter, sister, wife; that we will honor our wives; that we will heal our women; that we will heal ourselves, by refusing to countenance this evil any longer. Let us stop the evil; humans are not objects for sale.

Men, wake up and repent with me. We are needed.

©Bill Gnade 2006/All Rights Reserved.

[I have written a poem addressing the struggles men face with sexuality and pornography which is available here. Please note that the poem is unflinching in its use of language. I wrote the poem several years ago, and it was presented in workshop at a writers' conference at Colgate University. The leader of the workshop skipped over it for less controversial material. It's not that bad, but it is serious.]

The Most Vile President In History

I've been semi-delirious of late (no, it is not a Super Bowl hangover), so I apologize for some of my gaffes here. Yesterday I posted the wrong link to a female Muslim's op-ed regarding the "Danish Cartoons," sending readers instead to a very male Muslim's essay. And I have made some rather daffy spelling errors, like "reek havoc" instead of the less olfactory "wreak havoc;" or positing "school bus" as one word. Oh, well. I remain just a few millennia away from perfection. (Here's a good religious question: If there is a God, and if there is a heaven, will any of us be perfect in the afterlife, even if we believe, as some of us do as Christians, that our sins are forgiven through Christ's sacrifice and resurrection?)

***

At the very competent and informative blog, The Grape's Vine, blogger "Kannafoot" opined about the Coretta Scott King funeral held on Tuesday. I am not really interested in that event, though I will point the reader to James Taranto's interesting comments, which, I believe, take most of the political bite out of that funeral celebration. What I am interested in is something emblematic in a comment posted by one of Kannafoot's readers. The comment comes on the heels of Kannafoot's expressions of disappointment that several speakers, notably Rev. Joseph Lowery, chose to use the funeral celebration of Mrs. King as an excuse for political grandstanding. I quote that comment in full:

"And there's a difference between that and pimping off her name in the State of the Union address, I suppose. The Bush example is vastly more heinous than your charge as Bush used that same address to push for more wiretapping and it is an acknowledged fact that the FBI bugged Coretta King's bedroom. Bush knows no shame whatsoever and remains the most vile President in this country's history."

Now, I would point the reader directly to the President's State of the Union Address. This is what President Bush said in his first paragraph the other night:

"Thank you all. Mr. Speaker, Vice President Cheney, members of Congress, members of the Supreme Court and diplomatic corps, distinguished guests, and fellow citizens: Today our nation lost a beloved, graceful, courageous woman who called America to its founding ideals and carried on a noble dream. Tonight we are comforted by the hope of a glad reunion with the husband who was taken so long ago, and we are grateful for the good life of Coretta Scott King."

In light of President Bush's appropriate and apolitical introduction to his speech, I offered my own comment at The Grape's Vine:

"[The commenter's] remarks are unfortunate, for they represent the sort of unreasoned bomb-throwing that is killing dialogue in the West. Mr. Bush's speech was written well before Ms. King's death, and yet it behooved him, as a citizen and as president, to mention her passing. Had he not, no doubt [the commenter] would have found further proof for his claim that Mr. Bush is vile. How kind.

Moreover, Bush did not use her life and death as some sort of justification for his policies; for calling for social and economic change. Mr. Bush merely mentioned, with gentlemanly gratitude, that a wonderful woman had died. There was as much exploitation in that gesture as there is in this sentence."

I do agree with many commentators who found former President Jimmy Carter's remarks offensive, delivered as they were at the same funeral while George W. Bush sat politely (with class) listening from his seat on the podium:

"It was difficult for them [MLK and Coretta] then personally with the civil liberties of both husband and wife violated as they became the target of secret government wiretaps."

Odd that this sort of comment is not deemed vile. Talk about "pimping" off a deceased woman's name as the Grape's Vine commenter accused President Bush of doing! Yikes!

My point in all this has nothing to do with either presidents Bush or Carter's comments, or Mr. Lowery's comments, around Mrs. King. What I want to make clear is that their is a viciousness that embraces obtuseness in many of President Bush's critics. For the critics of Mr. Bush who think he "pimped" Mrs. King's name in his State of the Union speech have got to be intentionally obtuse; they have chosen to be dumb, for there is no way in hell (sorry) that any intelligent and honest reader can divine any pimping in President Bush's remarks. Yet, it takes no skill, really, to divine that Mr. Carter and Mr. Lowery were indeed tossing political barbs at the sitting President of the United States. This is not a matter of values; this is a matter of intellectual honesty, about choosing to use one's brain in an honest manner. It is scary that humans can willingly lie to themselves. But humans do lie to themselves; nay, all humans lie to themselves at some point. And that is what's truly vile.

As for Mr. Carter's remarks regarding wiretapping, let us remember that it was the Democrats who eavesdropped on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. President Carter might have wanted to be a little more circumspect before he reminded the country of the many Democrats who feared Dr. King and his message.

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

Newsflash: Cartoons DO Influence Behavior

The cartoon is NOT about Mohammed. It is not even a depiction of Mohammed. It is a representation of extremist perversion of the prophet: Mohammed is not a suicide bomber, nor does Allah countenance that kind of brutality. Islam is about "submission," but it is not about submitting to God through fear or threat of injury. That sort of spiritual abuse is what is depicted in the cartoons that have set people rampaging.

Thus is my opinion on the now infamous political cartoons printed in Danish and Norwegian newspapers that have fomented Muslim outrage. Unfortunately, it is outrage built on misunderstanding, on obtuseness. It is a rage that lacks nuance. For this is not about disrespect for Mohammed, but about respecting him properly as a religious leader who must have known that force never produces obedience and compliance. For the Mohammed the Danes know is a man of wisdom and goodness; he is not a bombmaker, nor is he a fatalist. Thus, their caricature of "Mohammed" was not a caricature of the prophet at all. It was a rebuke against religious distortion.

One commentator stated that the cartoons represent "provocative and arrogant European disdain for Muslim sensitivities about the prophet Muhammad." He is wrong. It is about appreciating the REAL Muhammad, and not the one who kills children on a school bus.

There is an intellectual blindness, even hubris, to all this. I heard a reporter suggest last night that this all represents the West's inability to understand the Arab World. British religion commentator Karen Armstrong opined that "I think it was criminally irresponsible to publish these cartoons. They have been an absolute gift to the extremists - it shows that the West is incurably Islamophobic. It sends a very bad message." Both viewpoints are wrong. The former is wrong largely because it ignores the much more credible and obvious point: Islam refuses to understand the Western world (even refusing to assimilate and integrate in those countries to which Muslims have immigrated, with France and Denmark serving as examples, in part). The latter is wrong because Ms. Armstrong misunderstands the cartoons: they are not Islamophobic at all. They are critical of hate, the hate that is believed Mohammed would not endorse. Furthermore, it is the Islamofascists who are phobic, fearful of the weakness of their control over others (particularly those of us in the West) and the potential weakness of their faith.

Denmark's Prime Minister Anders Fogh Rasmussen called the whole issue "a growing global crisis." Interesting. It's a "global" crisis. Not an American one, or a French one, or a Christian one. It's a global crisis. And Rasmussen wondered if the world's governments could rise up and stand strong against it. Wow. Alarmist? Perhaps.

Here's a related op-ed by the New York Times that was subsequently shredded in this telling editorial by a Rocky Mountain News columnist. But here is the most interesting op-ed of the day, written by a female Muslim. Engaging stuff. I hope you find them all interesting.

(I am under the weather, so forgive this hasty post.)

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

Left Cold In America: The Super Bowl

What should have been a celebration of America's most popular team sport, a unique combination of rugby, soccer (Euro-football), and warfare (think of the ball as a bomb to be detonated inside enemy headquarters, for points), turned instead into an obese, bloated display of American––and English––idols at last night's Super Bowl. The National Football League (NFL) is a wonderful franchise, bringing a fantastic product to American fans during the regular season from coast-to-coast, only to ruin that product at its premiere, season-ending event.

Please, I am not a killjoy, nor am I a sore loser. Congratulations to the Pittsburgh Steelers (helped, as they were, by that Third Team, the Officiating Stealers, in the worst officiated game in history). Nor am I a prude, all shrivelled and malcontent, finger-wagging at the young people having a good time. I will just wag my finger at the Rolling Stones, who surely have proven the falsity of the old adage: Rolling Stones do gather moss, lots of moss. Paint it black, indeed, mascara black. Mick Jagger thinks he still can't get no satisfaction? What about us? Mick might find what he's been looking for by simply leaving the stage--for good. And surely all would agree that no one proves more definitively that Rock-and-Roll is for young people than do Mick and Keith. After all, Rock-and-Roll at one point in its history was about rebellion. It still is: it's about rebelling against the Rolling Stones. What, pray tell, are the Stones rebelling against, good taste? (One wonders what edited lyric the Stones might draft that declares "Shut me up! You'd make an old man go..."?)

But if Wild Horses still can't drag Mick away, Clydesdales sure dragged the Stones out of the "best in show" spotlight. There were no great commercials, but the one stand-out commercial that represented the best in values was the heartwarming, sweet, Budweiser tribute to pride, family, youth, dreams--and passing things on to the NEXT generation--as a young horse is given a little help from those who preceded him.

Violence off the field and on the commercial spots was indeed thematic, though I confess, I was breathless with laughter one time, because it caught me off guard: "My cell phone ... has a crime deterrent feature." Sorry. But that ad was too surprising, and too simple, not to compliment with a laugh for its cartoonish look at male one-upsmanship. It was clear that the restrained competition that preceded the men's entry into that clubhouse locker room had finally reached breaking point. I just didn't expect the point to break quite like that.

It really was a Stupor Bowl though, perhaps even a Torpor Bowl. It suggests so much that is true of many though certainly not all Americans. We are not all consumed by lust for babes, beer or brutishness. We are not all dulled to inanity by consumption; dulled to be idolaters of our own successes. We do not bow to the (rather funny) "Magic Fridge." Most of us hate college frats or frat-boy humor. The Torpor Bowl would have outsiders think America's sports holiday is mere permission to display our staggering emptiness.

As a sporting event, this Super Bowl, and many of its predecessors, was empty. It is as if middle America runs the NFL perfectly well until the playoffs, and then Madison Avenue takes over the party and it all becomes a gratuitous pomp-fest on a Hamptons' summer evening. Unlike Jesus' miracle at Cana, where the best wine comes out last, the Super Bowl is the dessert that makes one wish for appetizers.

What America's Bowl Game needs is an injection of youth; of innocence. The 60's rebels and (former ?) potheads now in charge need to look beyond their own self-interests and reject Super Bowls that celebrate English bad-boy rock in the heart of Motown. American culture is not so anemic that it requires U2 (2002), Paul McCartney (2005) or the Stones to make a missions trip to the United States' big game. I'd give anything to see a half-time show displaying that true American phenomenon, the college football marching band; for there is really nothing cooler, or uniquely American, than a great half-time repertoire given by the best marching bands. Rock-and-roll is not connected to the heart of football as are these wonderful bands. Bring the crème de la crème--the very best marching bands--to the Super Bowl, and give us something intrinsically American. But as it is, Madison Avenue will soon have David Beckham entertaining us during an American football half-time break.

It is hard these days to find things that make me proud to be an American. Clearly my pride is rooted in things not portrayed in most of the media. I am disappointed that the Super Bowl is a thing that makes me ashamed. After all, it is supposed to be a game. What should I expect?

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

Rejoice And Weep: A Mixed World In A Super Bowl

"Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn."

It is the morning of the Super Bowl in America. Snow falls in Detroit; in New England, heavy rains and amazing warmth prompt some to wonder about global warming. Indeed, it does feel like winter has yet to make an appearance in many parts of the eastern United States; it does feel strange, even worrisome.

Today is a good one for wondering. I wonder why oil prices jump in America's northeast on news of a massive cold snap or winter storm, but they do not tumble during perhaps the warmest January on record. I understand markets--most of the time. But this has me stumped.

And I wonder about the news, the news all around, that seems so dire, tragic, sad. A tragic attack of homosexuals in a New Bedford, MA bar ends even more tragically in Arkansas, where the gun-toting, hatchet-wielding, swastika-tattooed 18-year-old perpetrator was shot twice in the head by police after he killed a woman and a police officer in that state. TV interviews of his friends about his hate-filled website and vicious behavior right after the initial attack prove that we do not really love our neighbors as we should, for to a person all gave the young man glowing reviews about his "tolerance," though a few admitted that he had a "temper." Contratimes' flag flies half-staff today in New Bedford, and Arkansas.

In a fury of religious reaction a few European embassies are ransacked and burned in the Middle East. It seems a couple of political cartoons incited mobs to wreak havoc on Western symbols, making it clear that the West's tenuous relationship with the Islamic world has little to do with America's ambitions for Iraq. We weep for peace. Most likely we weep in vain. Read this from the AP:

In the West Bank town of Hebron, about 50 Palestinians marched to the headquarters of the international observer mission there, burned a Danish flag and demanded a boycott of Danish goods.

We will redeem our prophet Muhammad with our blood!" they chanted. Mahmoud Zahar, leader of the militant Palestinian group Hamas, told the Italian daily Il Giornale the cartoonists should be punished by death. "We should have killed all those who offend the Prophet and here we are, protesting peacefully," he said....

A South African court banned the country's Sunday newspapers from reprinting the cartoons.

You know it's bad when the West and its friends refuse printing political cartoons. Just think of how terrifying the Taliban, I mean, the American Christian Right is, storming buildings and smashing cars and threatening death everywhere. President George Bush is the real terrorist. Islam is all about peace.

In Egypt thousands mourn over the drowning of perhaps thousands. We mourn with those who mourn.

At least there are going to be good commercials debuted during tonight's Super Bowl. At least.

As for global warming, I have little to say. I did have an interesting conversation not long ago with an atmospheric chemist from MIT. He and I met at an inn where our families had gathered for a quick ski vacation. At some point during our conversation he stated that if there is indeed a legitimate warming trend contingent on increased atmospheric gases, science has no way of ascertaining whether the trend was due to emissions from the distant past or the last 10 years. "For all we know we might be experiencing a brief warm-up due to the Industrial Revolution, or from something even earlier."

I am still picking up here and there references connecting global warming with hurricanes. Unfortunately, NOAA seems to have a different take on the volatility of the ATLANTIC hurricane season (tropical storm numbers globally are actually down, I believe, skewing the predictions of alarmists). But what does Noah know?

But it is ridiculously warm outside; it is a horrid time to own a ski area in New England. However, I picked up an interesting tidbit only yesterday while watching a program on the history of downhill skiing. During a segment on the 1940s construction of Vermont's Mad River Glen, one founding member recalled that the mountain received so much snow its second year it couldn't open. The following year, however, the mountain did not open till February for lack of snow; and the following four or five years were so snowlessly bad that businesses and inns around the mountain went bankrupt or shut themselves down.

The science of global warming is not rocket science. Rocket science is easy by comparison.

Go Patriots!

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes - All Rights Reserved.

[Photo: Early spring, Harrisville, NH, 2005.]