Listening From Afar

The photo of this moose appeared on page 1 of the local daily yester- day under the banner, "All Ears." It was a perfect title. And it remains a perfect title for how I feel about returning to this blog after a significant hiatus: I want to listen. 

Perhaps you have something to say. Anything?

Peace.

Bill Gnade

(see related moose story at In The Pantry)

On Politics: When The Man Deceives: A Video For Destruction (Part 1)

A couple of weeks ago, during a conversation I was having with someone I love, I completely caved in: I crumbled under peer pressure. It is not the sort of thing I confess lightly; there is an element of shame to it all. But confess it I must, because I was lying, not only to my interlocutor, but to myself. 

The topic was Mr. Al Gore. I had made the point that Mr. Gore has built something of a mythology around his life's work: he has pointed out dangers that threaten us all, and yet he, blithely and blindly, is part of those very dangers. If Al Gore warns us of global warming, he does so from the Cannes Film Festival, the yacht-littered theater orgy of the world's richest and most indulgent polluters. If he warns us of corporate control of information, he does so without telling us that he sits† on the boards of Google and CurrentTV, both of which "control" more information in an hour than Rupert Murdoch "controls" in a month or perhaps even in a decade. And if he warns us of the great threat that unreason has on our culture, he does so in a manner that can only be described as fallacious. 

In short, Mr. Gore is a dangerous man. 

But it was exactly that assertion which I denied. I had made a fairly decent case about Mr. Gore's hypocrisy without once referring to his negative and harmful influence on the culture at large; but those listening to me construed that I was averring that Mr. Gore was a man capable of doing much harm. Alas, as quickly as a cocksure disciple slinking past an accuser in a Jerusalem street, I denounced my own convictions. 

Surely, there is no pride in such cowardice. 

Mr. Gore, 1992, Waxing Eloquent About Saddam Hussein

Contratimes readers will know that I have spent much time pointing out that the current war in Iraq is not four-and-a-half years old. It is at least 16 years old. There has not been one second since Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait that the United States has not been in political and military strife with Iraq. Moreover, easily forgotten is that it was the Clinton administration that ramped up sanctions and military operations against Saddam Hussein from 1992 through January 2001 (when Messrs. Clinton and Gore left Washington). Lastly, it was during the Clinton administration, and due to Mr. Clinton's perceived abuses of Iraq, that Osama bin Laden issued his infamous 1998 fatwa, the one that led to the 9/11 atrocities. And the media, by and large, are silent about these issues: the media, nearly all of whom are, to some degree, Clinton fans and Gore idolizers, will not permit themselves to see what they helped create.

Now comes an incredible video from YouTube (originally broadcast on C-Span). The time is September 1992. Mr. Gore is the Democratic nominee for vice president; he's on the campaign trail. The video captures him at his pedantic, professorial, condescending best. But what is the topic? That's right: George H. W. Bush, Bush the First, was NOT TAKING SADDAM HUSSEIN SERIOUSLY ENOUGH. Bush the First was capitulating; Bush was weak and duplicitous; Bush was trying to appease a terrorist.

Of course, Al Gore and Bill Clinton would be tough and bold; they would sanction and subdue Saddam Hussein; they would finish the job that should have been completed in the First Gulf War.

In other words, Bill Clinton and Al Gore would stir up a hornet's nest.

I beg you: Watch the video yourself, and then write to me of my cowardly denials. And then write to the world, and tell them that you do not know Al Gore. 

Peace.

†Google is not merely a search engine: Google is also GMAIL, Google News, Blogger and YouTube. Mr. Gore also serves the board of Apple Inc.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved. 

Note to readers

There are some technical problems here that have made it very difficult for me to post. Also, I am sure some of you notice the extremely slow loading time of this site; I do not, yet, understand why this is happening.

Sorry for the inconvenience.

Oh, and happy Father's Day.

Gnade

Rosie Sheen Sheehan

Rosie O'Donnell's view has been obscured by the top brass at ABC, and now she will have to find a different vista from which she can divine truth, and dispense her happy bromides. Curiously, a Rosie cohort, Charlie Sheen, is apparently seeing some sort of light at the end of his nose: He admits he might be wrong about the conspiracy-laden 9/11 film, "Loose Change." The good news is that he might have doubts; the bad news is that Rosie, who has also touted the film, has not had such doubts. Change comes slow, no doubt, and change, like wits, can even sometimes come loose.

Stepping into the news to eclipse all this is Cindy Sheehan, the indefatigable anti-war protester who has, apparently, finally tired out. She is heading back to California to reconnect with her remaining children. News has it that she is selling her land (Camp Casey, named for her fallen son) near President Bush's ranch in Crawford, Texas.

It is hard not to pity Ms. Sheehan. Her own words (found here in her "resignation letter"), which are very much worth reading, are filled with pain. Perhaps the most telling line is the one about her son, who died -- freely -- while serving the American armed forces in Iraq. Ms. Sheehan writes simply, "I failed my boy and that hurts the most." [emphasis mine]

Ms. Sheehan has admitted something to us all in her resignation letter posted at The Daily Kos. She has admitted that the most painful thing is not the Iraq War or partisan duplicity or partisan betrayal. The most painful thing is not even the death of her son. The most painful thing is that she feels she let him down by buying "into the [American] system."

One can only grieve for Ms. Sheehan, for it seems she has not yet had the chance to really grieve. Her cause, her passion, and her many minions kept her, or so I believe, from truly addressing her deepest sorrows. Today, she is finally returning to California to try to restore relations with her surviving children, to try to regain the things she has lost. But what things are those, one might ask, if not the very things that are most valued in the system known as America?

If I was a friend of Ms. Sheehan's and I received a letter from her like the one she posted at The Daily Kos, I would be concerned that my friend was contemplating suicide. I am not her friend, and yet I am still concerned. For it is clear that she feels she failed. If her greatest pain comes when she considers that her failures led to her son's death, then she is not really blaming America or war or Iraq or Democrats or Republicans or even Casey for his death, she's blaming herself.

That is too much for any mother to bear.

Ms. Sheehan strikes me as exhausted and disoriented. Someone needs to get her home, hide her from the world, and give her lots of silence. She should stay away from TVs and radios and newspapers and the Internet; she should be given lots of love, hot tea, and pampering. She needs a long holiday from the world and, perhaps most importantly, her own persona needs to be exorcized. Her resignation letter proves that she teeters on the edge of sanity. Her words are those of a martyred messiah, a snubbed prophet. She sees things better than the rest of us; she knows more than America. That sort of inflated sense of self is not healthy. It is the very stuff of craziness. It is the sound of exhaustion, of collapse.

May God give her the healing and peace she seeks. Let us all pray.

Peace to you.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

(A related Contratimes essay, "Weapons of Miss Direction", which addresses Ms. Sheehan's quasi-gnosticism, can be found here.)

Faithless In Fashion

It all might be due to the easy trendiness of atheism these days, with Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins recently dominating certain booklists with their seemingly trenchant criticisms of all things theological. How else to explain my sudden and shocking waking in the deep dark of last night with the following statement breaking sweet dreams' synapses in the core of my normally happy brain?

If there is no God, then I hate this universe.

What could the oracle mean?

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

[Addendum, 5.26.07: Since this post has inspired a decent discussion on atheism in the comments thread, I think it relevant to refer readers to my essay, "The Existence of God: A Letter To Christopher Hitchens," dated September 20, 2006. I believe it is essential reading for any serious inquiry into the existence of God. I am not suggesting that it is a prerequisite for joining the discussion here. ALSO, I think it should be noted that Luke Buckham, who comments frequently at Contratimes, is more than a mere internet friend. Luke and I know each other in the real world; we have had numerous face-to-face, heart-to-heart discussions, some over beer, some over burritos, and some while standing in a dry river bed. Hence, Luke and I might write here (and elsewhere) to each other differently than we might write to other correspondents. And, though I know we try to avoid doing so, we may occasionally make references to things NOT SAID in online conversations.

Lastly, I think it's only polite (and balanced) to refer readers to Luke's essay against theism posted at Luke's website, "O Machine." The title of his polemic is "SHARP WORDS, part 1: Are you an atheist?" Thanks. BG]

AnAlogy Gore-alogy: Fun With Al

As a preview to Al Gore's forthcoming book, The Assault On Reason (see my essay here), I thought it would be fun to see how readers complete the following sentence:

Al Gore writing about reason is like _______________.

OR, readers could finish this sentence:

Al Gore lecturing us about the assault on reason is a bit like ________________.

(For a few examples, you can look at the end of my essay posted Saturday, May 19, 2007.)

Invite your friends! Pass the word.

Blessings and blissings!

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

Reason Is Not So Fooled: Al Gore's New Book

I am back, and I am mad as fire ants on skin. Actually, I am merely back.

Let me ask you a few questions. If I write a book entitled Freedom From Hate: Rejecting intolerance, bigotry and prejudice, and the psycho-social constructs that protect them, wouldn't you expect me to be free of hate, intolerance, bigotry, and the psycho-social constructs that protect them? If I write a book called Loosed At Last: Self-delivery from addiction, would it be imprudent of you to ask whether I was the one photographed last week puking with Christopher Hitchens outside Circa Tabac?º What if I pen the best-selling Regular As Sunrise: 10 sure steps to overcoming diarrhea? Would it be proper of you to presume that I did not write that fine book while sitting at a desk in my bathroom?

Just asking.
_______________

If the writer of Ecclesiastes is correct, that there is a season for everything under the sun, then there is a time for scoffing, for sarcasm. A friend of mine once said that she could not embrace Christianity because there was not a single reference in the whole Bible to God laughing. One wonders what she meant: the Bible has several references to God laughing at idols, scoffing at vanities, mocking false and phony gods. In other words, there is a time for scoffing, and the time is now.

You may have already garnered from my many essays about Al Gore that I am incurably Algore-aphobic. I am very discomforted by the over-crowding inside Al Gore's head. But that is the least of my phobias. I am much more phobic that Al Gore is presenting himself to the world as deity.

Surely you have heard that Mr. Gore is about to release a new book called (I am not making this up), The Assault on Reason. No, this is not autobiography, nor is it a confession or tell-all foisted upon the world to generate sympathy for his reckless rhetoric, his own sins of the mind. Those of us paying attention find just a hint of delight, an almost arthritic mirth, in the irony of it all: Al Gore is going to pontificate on the world's flight from reason. We giggle, but with some pain: our joints rattle and grind, joints battered by years if not decades of twists and sprains and hyper-extensions earned while fighting the fallaciousness of mass hysteria, even mass opinion.

Let us recall for the moment that Al Gore's film, An Inconvenient Truth, is from credits-to-Oscar one long fallacy: the film unrelentingly confuses or, if not confuses, conflates correlation and causality in an almost insouciant non causa pro causa polemic. Of course, this is not to suggest that the conclusion is right or wrong; Mr. Gore may be infallibly correct in his conclusion that humans† are killing the planet and that the need for green living is of moral imperative. But his method is utterly irrational. His method is an assault on reason. Even his appeals to "most scientists" or "scientific consensus" are fallacious, as is his appeal to experts; both are fallacies, the former, the fallacy argumentum ad populum (or consensus gentium, the appeal to majorities), the latter, the appeal to authority.

In 1987, I had the pleasure of hanging out with Al Gore at a house party held on the edges of a tiny New Hampshire town. He was just beginning his bid for the White House; the twenty or so folks gathered in the kitchen and living room were remarkably interested in his words. But they were not sufficiently interested to give him the Democratic nomination in 1988, nor were they overly awed by him. My impression then (vague as it is now), was that the only person sufficiently awed by Mr. Gore was Mr. Gore himself.

Alas, I find he has not changed at all over the last 20 years. I also find that his current fans are giving him a pass. But since I am not a fan (nor am I at all current), he does not pass my way without receiving a jeer and a tomato (both the jeer and the tomato, by the way, are certified organic and totally carbon neutral; the jeer is also free-range). My incredulity slips into sarcasm at the idea: Mr. Gore has come to the rescue; he is going to enlighten us all to the true value and blissfulness of reason. He shall demonstrate logical perfection; he will rise above the profanum vulgus and model proper thinking. But one look at his unintentionally hilarious essay on economics from 2006 will give you a sense of Mr. Gore's vast skills in clear thinking. Perhaps my reference to that essay is unfair; perhaps lucidity is not one of reason's predicates. Perhaps muddied and abstruse prose is the crown jewel of reason. Perhaps.

The Gore Advantage

The advantage to writing a book called The Assault on Reason (TAR) is that the author instantly presents himself as the Most Reasonable Human. For surely the man who writes such a book could not be the most assaultive force on reason, could he? No, he could not. He can only be reason's protector, exemplar, purifier. He must be reason's very template.

And this is proven (I use the word the way Mr. Gore uses it) by TAR's description at Amazon. I would be remiss not to demand that you read it. Please! Go check out this most-reasonable description of this important bulwark against anti-rationalism. It is eye-opening: you will be aghast at your own benighted reasoning skills. A light will shine in your darkness, I am sure.

I just pray that the light shining in your darkness is not a bullet coursing through your incredulous head. I hope that, instead of inflicting any injury upon your lovely self, you will turn toward the light through derisive laughter. It is surely where and how I must turn. Laughter, for me, is the only reasonable alternative to suicide.* A high school friend of mine published next to his yearbook picture a veiled dig at the interminable laughter of a girl he thought he loved. He wrote, "Laughter is the air release of all one fears." But my friend was wrong. Laughter is not the release of all one fears. It is the release of all one hates. I either laugh at Al Gore or I kill myself; I either open my mouth and release my hatred or I open my cranium some other way in order to let out what I loathe. And I do loathe "Al Gore"; I hate him.ª But I do not hate Al Gore the man, the gentleman I met in 1987 or the man that holds his wife's heart. I do not hate the Al Gore loved by God. No, I hate Al Gore the commodity, the product. The merchandised. And the only passage to sanity I can find is one that demands -- for a season -- derision, mockery, scoffing, laughter. I laugh at Mr. Gore, at his absurd over-reaching.

(OK. Let me grant that there's nothing more irrational than for me to critique a book I have not yet read. I admit it is hard to read a book that is not yet even in print. But I am not sure it is unreasonable of me to make a wild prediction: In his new book, Mr. Gore is not going to be elucidating his many intellectual mistakes. Nor do I expect his book to consist of one long string of apologies. And I also do not expect Mr. Gore to admit that he is, of all people, quite eminently dis-qualified to write this book. This is a book that is, above all else, committed to promoting Al Gore.)

Al Gore's book is, like so many deeds and screeds of too many today, mere psychological projection. Mr. Gore is going to point out the sins of others not knowing (apparently) that such sins are his own. (I am reminded of what I wrote to Open Ide, a cowardly visitor to this site a few weeks ago.) And the only sins any one of us is truly expert in is the sins that are indeed our own. The Assault on Reason is a child's game of distraction: Look! What's that behind you?! Mr. Gore hopes you will ignore what is in front of your face, just so he can slink away, unchallenged, but nonetheless beloved for his commitment to "dialogue," to "reasoned conversation."

But Al Gore writing to us about reason is a bit like my lecturing Fabio on hair care. Al Gore promoting reason is not unlike Madonna promoting chastity. It's like Bill Maher telling the pope to cool down his opinions. It's a bit like Rosie O'Donnell advising Steven Wright on paradox, or Paula Abdul coaching Melinda Doolittle on how to be more vocally dynamic. It's a bit like George W. Bush giving tips to William Safire on how to pronounce nuclear (which, as we know, is just a variant spelling of unclear), or Eddie Van Halen telling André Segovia to be more subtle, or Anna Nicole Smith appearing at Fatima and urging women to remember her temperance.

In other words, Al Gore's book should be a failure before it even hits the editor's desk. Instead, it will be wildly successful.

Laugh your way to light. It's the season.

Peace and true mirth.

ºI mean this as a joke, of course. I do not know if that was Mr. Hitchens partying with me in Soho. But I do recall smashing rounds with a British atheist.

†Christianity has unflaggingly agreed with Mr. Gore since time immemorial, but with a twist. Humans are not going to destroy the planet. Humans already have destroyed the planet.

*I mean this facetiously, really.

ªMy hate is purely a rhetorical device.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

Better An Honest Grief

It is not writer's block. That sort of thing assumes a writer has something to say, to pass along. The metaphor implies obstruction of an otherwise glorious flow of verbiage; it implies a log jam interrupting the normal flow of a sure and powerful river.

What is it called when the river itself is empty, dried up? Writer's drought? What if there is nothing to block, no flow to impede? Or what if the writer's well is filled with dust? What do we call that?

I have nothing to say. At least, I feel like I have nothing to say. The Virginia Tech shootings were my last real reason to craft anything resembling an essay, a poem, something literary. How sad that I should only find a muse in grief. But is that even true? Did I find inspiration in sorrow and tragedy?

Perhaps. But today I've found something else in my gnawing gut; I've a belly full of disgust. I am sickened by the transitions. We humans, or most of us, seem to move from issue to issue, tragedy to tragedy, searching for smooth segues from bit to bit, from pod to pod (as news/documentary items are called on "Current TV"): We want something. We move from pod to pod like rats from switch to switch; we will electrocute ourselves for a new bit of bitter cheese. And I recoil at the thought that we are DONE with Virginia Tech, or Don Imus, or 9/11. That we have "moved on," emotionally, intellectually, spiritually. That we are hunting for the next big distraction, the next Beltway sniper or car chase or racial slur or outrageous political misstep. We look through blogs and news feeds; we grope about, snickering as we dismiss x and y and z; we take hold of A, and we write or film or opine in harried insistence that we have to say something, we have to move the debate, to push the national conversation. We must have A, we must shape it just so; and we shape it so we can have, as quickly as possible, B.

I walk through bookstores, I scroll through blogs and search engines; I sift through news pages and flip through YouTube clips or newsreels and I see nothing but words: words and words and words. We jam words into every void, every crevice. Windbag thinkers tell us that bad speech is fought with more speech; advertisers jam words into scoreboards and dashboards and every readable surface on the planet. We have so many words offered as answers we cannot see that words serve as cataracts to our eyes: we cannot make out the form of the questions that we ever even asked. There is just a dull, hazy light, double, triple vision: two moons in the night sky in our waning, aging light.

What is the solution to Don Imus' alleged racial slurs? Words. What is the solution to Seung-Hui Cho? More words. What to do with Iraq, Harry Reid, Rosie O'Donnell, Bill O'Reilly, Randi Rhodes, poverty? Words and more words. What is the solution to the estrangement of man's existence from his essence? Words. Declarative statements. No question marks.

My word.

Immediately after 9/11, TV networks went days and days without running any advertisements. Why? What purpose did that serve? Did it suggest that to hawk one's wares in sight of thousands of dead people was too tawdry, too decadent and heartless and rapacious and mercenary? How many dead people DOES it take for the networks to stop advertising, two, three? Why 5,000, 4,000, 3,000? What is the magic number necessary for a nation to stop and grieve properly? Who sets that number? What number tells us we can move on?

And how long must I wait before I can write about anything other than all that has preceded this moment? How long, really, do I have to forget the martyrdom of Peter or the destruction of Jerusalem or the Black Plague or the desolation of the American Indian or the savagery of the fur trade or the decapitation of infidels or the garroting of babies or gunshots in a classroom, before I can call myself au courant?

Yesterday I wept at a funeral for one of my dearest friends. Afterwards, as I approached my friend's now-empty house where a luncheon was to be held in her honor, I stopped to talk to Barbara, another friend who had moments earlier eulogized (so boldly, so elegantly) our dead friend. In the midst of our gentle, teary conversation, I said, "Better an honest grief than a dishonest joy." I shocked myself with the sentence, having no idea where it came from, or why exactly I had said it. But in a moment's pause both Barbara and I knew that it fit the moment perfectly; it was the very summation of her wonderful eulogy and what we were searching for on the shoulder of Lookout Hill Road.

Better an honest grief than a dishonest joy.

It is the sort of sentence one might find in Bartlett's, if only its author were noteworthy. It is also made up of mere words. It is more words, words that blind like tears, the cataracts of grief flowing over cheeks, pouring from the dulled eyes that search for a friend who is now a question mark.

Sometimes the only word we want to hear is not a word at all.

Peace.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

Watch Out For The Death Blow!

A simple truck driver did more than disturb -- and distort -- this morning's commute in Oakland, California. He dealt a fatal blow to those 9/11 conspiracy theorists who believe that fires in the World Trade Center could not have "melted" steel.

That such foolishness is contradicted by countless blacksmiths everyday does not stop such theorists' wild fantasies. But maybe James Mosqueda's close scrape with death will quench the flames burning in the hearts and minds of far too many souls who stubbornly refuse to believe the simple truth, namely, 9/11 happened exactly the way they saw it happen. When Mr. Mosqueda and his 8,600-gallon gasoline tanker crashed beneath an overpass in Oakland, the result was the undeniable melting of massive steel girders and the collapse of one of Oakland's vital thoroughfares.

Not that the steel actually melted; it just weakened enough to lose its strength and collapse after three hours of raging fury. Which is, of course, identical to the official statement regarding the WTC towers: the fires, along with the brutality of two planes traveling hundreds of miles an hour slicing through both buildings, weakened the structures enough to render them incapable of supporting their own weight.

But, as I said, we only needed to talk to a blacksmith about steel to come to conclusions the 9/11 theorists could not, in all their scientific inquiries, discover for themselves.

Perhaps we will now learn that Mr. Mosqueda wasn't driving at all; witnesses saw a grey-headed middle-aged man from Texas leap from the tanker into what looked like a Washington, D.C. motorcade. It is reported that three hours later, using a reconfigured cell-phone from inside Air Force One, some person called another phone at the Oakland underpass, which triggered a series of thermite bombs to detonate.

It's all just to throw the conspiracy theorists off the trail.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

My Name is ?

It is a simple judgment: I had enough of their not worshiping me. I could not take their idolatry; I abhorred their indifference to my glory. I stood in silence, I stood in scoffing silence scoffing, and they did not see me; they did not obey my laws. I said, "How long will you not notice me? How long will I not be the center of your attention, the life of your dead parties, the talk of the dining commons?" My patience has been tried, and your hearts have been hardened by youthful lusts, and licentious distractions, and jammed with gods and goddesses primped in all forms of promiscuity. How long shall I wait for you to humble yourselves; when shall you turn from your sinful days and trust funds and your Christian vacuity? What do I have to do with your perversions, your petty conversions, your pet conversations iced with gossip poured over lazy lips?

I wrote poetry. I wrote plays. I was an English major. I never said a word. And yet I was writing a story you could not read. My poems and plays made you uncomfortable; mere words made you fear. How much fear now? I send mail express -- Ismail Ax to NBC -- and yet I leave you with question marks. ? is my name and ? is my legacy. Today, in the grave you will desecrate, I laugh last, and my laugh lasts in your questions asked too late.

This is my grade, my passing grave. I have written something none of you could ever dare to write. Now you all have read it.

Note what I say as I enter your room, Professor: "Good morning! How are you?" It's the first time you heard that, no? I'll show you some irony. Hot irony. And now listen to this, and this, and that, and that, and that. And that!

You have emptied my heart's chambers. I empty them into yours, and yours empty in liquid-who-cares on the forensic details of your bookbag. I will be your god this hour, if it be the last thing I do. I know when the term ends. And so does this gun. You will worship in this moment, pronouncing my name in perfect punctuation.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

Cho Seung-Hui: Who Are We?

[Tonight (4.18.07) I amend this post with this preface because I see that a lot of people are seeking, searching, looking. Some of you, like me, may even be groping: How do I make sense of a ruthless massacre like the one that happened at the seemingly peaceful, bucolic Virginia Tech? I have spent much of my time since Monday morning wondering - with much fear - whether it is possible that there is no answer to the question. What if there is no reason at all?

I wonder, though, if we can permit ourselves to accept that the reason might be utterly simple, and singular in scope: Cho Seung-Hui created this all entirely on his own. This tragedy is not God's fault, nor is it the fault of college administrators, overly-cautious psychologists, timid law enforcement officials, or obtuse neighbors. This is something crafted by one person: A man willed something, and it came to pass.

Since I cannot promise any sort of answer here, I can at least direct you toward my own struggles with the problem of evil (see here). Though my struggle is admittedly one fought on Christian terms, I nonetheless believe my struggle can serve as a guide to those who find themselves doing battle in terms that are not one bit religious. My approach is actually more philosophical than theological, though both disciplines, I believe, have more to say about evil than any natural or social science which by definition precludes even the notion of evil.

But whatever you do or wherever you go, I bid you peace, comfort, and solace as you seek to find meaning in a world that shouts meaninglessness at us everyday. My belief is that what the world so often shouts is not at all true.]

You might have come here for comfort, for some understanding or trenchant analysis. I am sorry to disappoint. There is nothing this heart can really give.

_______________

The media, like the rest of us, chafe at the bit of real time. We want answers to simple questions, and we want them right now. We want to know why vision is always 20/20 when viewed in the Slow-motion Afterwards; and we want to know everything. We crave omniscience so we can explain; we crave explanations so we can console ourselves with pithy little phrases, like "isolated incident," "mental illness," "random violence," and "it can't happen to me."

While waiting for hard facts detailing the shootings at Virginia Tech, we are also tempted to ramble on about causes and solutions: We do not know the disease, but perhaps we can all chatter on about prevention. We do not know the problems, but let us posit some answers. This is our wont in the media, and in our consumption of media. And it is all so very entertaining: Let there be no dead air between breathy, vapid sound-bites for fear of losing viewers and listeners.

Of course, the big speculation -- THE BIG PROBLEM -- that filled much of the TV dead air between facts and figures delivered all too-slowly in the Virginia Tech shootings, is that the campus police and administrators are somehow to blame: The school should have been in lock-down immediately. You know what is being said -- we need a terrorist threat-level alarm system every time something bad happens (anywhere). That I have heard nary a word how a lock-down would not have helped is hardly surprising: we need answers, and we need to blame something.

(Think of the preposterousness of it all: VT should have locked down a 2600-acre campus -- over 4 square miles -- wherein 26,000 to 28,0o0 people work, live, study and stroll. Imagine the size of such an enterprise: taking a 2 mile by 2 mile urbanized area and containing it all within a protective blanket. Keene, NH, considered a city by New England standards, has 25,000 residents. Alas, we are hearing commentary suggesting that when Keene has a shooting within its borders, the entire city should be locked down. Instantly.

And then think of a methodical murderer with a plan: He will hide inside a building, wait for lock-down to be announced [he reads it on his own cellphone, perhaps]; he waits a few minutes to ensure that classes are underway and pedestrian flow into the building is low; he chains closed various exits; and then he begins his terror. Such a scenario gives one an immediate sense of how a lock-down actually creates a false sense of security; and how such false security lowers one's suspicions. Besides, the lock-down merely means that the shooter is now locked down with everyone else. He IS a VT student after all, and would be whisked toward protection like any other student.)

But we are all about finding something, ANY thing, to blame. The shooter himself apparently blamed "rich kids" and "debauchery" for his rage (and anyone paying attention to the zeitgeist over the last 30 years knows that rich kids are stereotyped by every sector of American culture). Some will blame video games. Some will blame guns. Others will blame race, or the isolation that too often comes of it.

The fact is that we all might be to blame. I replied to an email last night regarding the VT shootings that Americans -- and westerners in general -- no longer love their neighbors. Alas, we don't even know them. I will not enlarge upon that at this moment, but I will note this: An MSNBC reporter TODAY stood outside the Centreville, VA home of the 23-year-old shooter, and said that the neighborhood was clearly "middle class" (in contrast to a rich kid's neighborhood) and that, though neighbors had seen the shooter's family, none of the neighbors seemed to know a thing about the family (which had been living there for at least a dozen years). In fact, the reporter -- surprised, at least in tone -- shared that none of the neighbors seemed to know any of the others at all. And this in a middle class neighborhood where the very walls of each home were shared one house to the other.

In other words, the VT murderer was raised (mostly) in a tight-knit community of complete strangers.

Sounds like America. Sounds like the world.

There must be a simple explanation.

Peace.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

The Human Heart -- Who Can Understand It?

Right? You Can't Make This Stuff Up Indeed

An anonymous comment was posted here this morning, though the person who penned it hid behind a pseudonym, Robert Throckmorton (the comment seems to have come through a server in Ames, Iowa, caucus country). And the comment suggested that I was paranoid and full of something like digested hay for thinking (see my essay here) that the Imus story was much bigger than race and sex (and that these were even distractions). The issue, I augured, was that this is about who will be the next president. (And I augured even more than this.)

Let me remind readers that Don Imus constantly referred to Hillary Clinton as "Satan." As wrong or as unfortunate as this may be, Mr. Throckmorton thinks that I am paranoid for thinking that Ms. Clinton benefits -- supremely -- from Don Imus' silence.

Now note this: Ms. Clinton is going to speak at Rutgers on Monday. Yes, I know. Paranoid delusions on my part.

This is all about winning -- for Ms. Clinton. She is, in her own words, in the presidential campaign "to win." As if there is any other option. So, desperately seeking affirmation and the prize, Ms. Clinton is going to steal the limelight -- steal it from a Rutgers women's basketball team, from Al Sharpton, from Don Imus and from Barack Obama. No doubt Ms. Clinton can exploit commiseration to great effect, for she -- all female -- has also been the victim of Don Imus' sexism. That this whole story used to be about a runner-up basketball team whose achievements were overshadowed by the easily ignorable comments of an old white guy is worth noting, particularly since it is no longer about that at all, proving, at last, that it never was. Surely Ms. Clinton has heard that the Rutgers team has accepted Mr. Imus' apology, and that they'd like to move on and get on with living -- and on with the celebration the team still richly deserves. But that has no place in her campaign, for the limelight she is going to steal is about to be rather large and rather bright: the media presence at Rutgers will be so overpowering that it will be hard not to believe that Ms. Clinton already is president. Perfect.

Of course, no one dare suggest that Ms. Clinton is going to exploit the misfortunes of a group of women who have accepted an apology. After all, it may be the case that the Rutgers team has given Imus some sort of absolution, but that does not mean all other women have to follow their example: Other women can still hold a grudge against the I-man.

It's funny. I have been apologetic to Contratimes readers for speculating beyond the prima facie evidence of this whole story. Clearly my paranoia is rooted in some shallow soil. The soil of reality.

But I may still be wrong.

Alas! One more paranoid tidbit: Hillary Clinton, according to the report cited above, has had a longstanding open invitation to speak to the "The Eagleton Center for American Women and Politics" at Rutgers. Can anyone say "motive?" I can.

Odd that I should have been speculating that the machinery behind Don Imus' sudden fall was larger than Al Sharpton. I now see why.

I wonder, Mr. Throckmorton, what you see.

Peace.

(Still experimenting, so bear with me.)

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati tags:
Don Imus, Racism, Rutgers Basketball, Al Sharpton, Language, Censorship, Hillary Clinton, Reparations, Sexism, Bigotry, CBS, MSNBC, Presidential Politics, Barack Obama, Charles McCord, Bernard McGuirk, Al Sharpton, Sid Rosenberg

Humbled, Gladly, By A Comment

I would like to direct readers to a comment made today by a Contratimes reader, Brady, who lives in Switzerland. I cannot tell you how humbling it is for me -- humbling in a good and right way. This is not to say that I am not humbled by every comment posted here, for I am: I am truly honored by others' care. It was just that this one struck a very important chord, one that is pleasant and sustained.

I have indeed speculated wildly over the past few days. I have my reasons; perhaps I will share them in the next day or two. But I cannot help but agree with Brady: my speculations (in general) weaken my credibility, and they surely weaken my spirit.

Let me just put it this way: right now, I am experimenting.

Thanks to each of you for enduring this (hopefully) brief phase.

Peace.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

Imus, Hate, Reparations And Public Profits: More To Think About

Please, forgive me as I play the fool. But there is so much about the Don Imus story that is important, it is hard to be silent.

As you know, I have already speculated that this Imus "scandal" is largely about presidential politics: key political figures running for the White House can only benefit if Imus is silenced; or, should he return, if he is finally and firmly marginalized as an irrelevant, racist crank. I have also posited that the gang mentality we have seen emerge in such a short time, one utterly deaf to Imus' actual remarks, has been fomented by interested political players behind the scenes. I have further admitted that I am merely speculating; but I am also inferring from the intensity of the furor and the speed of Imus' fall, that surely he did not merely get fired because 10 young women basketball players were offended. There were "bigger" players at work here, ones that even made Imus lose his usually cocky posture.

Now, here's something we all need to think about. Al Sharpton said of all this, in defense of his own noble role in bringing Imus to justice, that America needs to stop those who, using public airwaves, profit from peddling racism and sexism. Please note this with all due attention. Why? Because in the wake of the Imus outrage both MSNBC's and CBS's advertisers began to withdraw from Imus' show; in firing Imus, CBS was willing to forego the apparent $20 million a year he tossed into CBS's coffers. (Please, just for a moment, I want you to follow the money.)

The significant thing for us is that Imus was fired; both MSNBC and CBS agree in action that neither network can nor will profit from the racist, sexist sarcasm and satire of Mr. Imus. But in light of the fact that countless pro-firing commentators, some of whom are staffers of both MSNBC and CBS, keep pointing out that Imus has a long rap-sheet of prior offenses, the firing of Imus appears to be a tacit admission by these networks that they have been, for a long time, profiting from a racist, sexist crank. So, here's the rub: If it is wrong for these networks to continue to profit from a man who clearly has been acting inappropriately for perhaps decades, was it not wrong for them to profit from Imus in the past? If so, does this not then follow: That all the revenue earned by MSNBC and CBS from the Imus show is profit drawn from the purveying of racism and sexism on the public airwaves? Is not the profit already gained from Imus' show dirty, racist, sexist money?

Moreover, does it not then behoove CBS and MSNBC, contrite and deeply moral as they clearly are, to both make reparations, that they pay back the money garnered through racist and sexist programming to those who have been most victimized by such programming?

Alas! I do not see how this argument can be contradicted or denied: MSNBC and CBS must make reparations. Total and complete. For Al Sharpton and his colleagues have made their case, and the firing of Imus proves that the networks agree with that case.

But, let us pause for a moment. For I have one more thing to note, and it is this: If Al Sharpton and others do not seek reparations, if they do not seek damages from toxic and racist radio (and TV) the way some have sought damages from toxic tobacco, can we not infer that simply removing Imus' voice was the only thing some interested parties wanted? Can we not infer that no one seriously believes Imus has been a purveyor of racism and sexism, or that two networks profited from his evil? I don't see how we cannot: If Imus has been a racist and sexist for decades, then all (or most, or even some) of his profits are a result of peddling hate and bigotry. Hence, the profits associated with him have guilt all over them; they represent a debt to victims, not a dividend to shareholders. If no one goes after this money for reparations, then no one is really serious about the charges aimed at Mr. Imus.

Alas, what an ugly door two networks have opened: either they have opened the door to a major lawsuit, or they have opened the door to speculation that this was all about silencing Imus so that he would not stand in the way of someone's bid for the White House. Yes, I believe it is that sort of huge either/or we are talking about here.

Unless, of course, this is all some big publicity stunt. If that is the case, we're all damned.

But, in the end, I admit that I am only speculating. As Imus might say of me, I am a "bald-headed stooge," a "weasel," a "crazy person."

No doubt I am bald, crazy, and a person.

Peace.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati tags:
Don Imus, Racism, Rutgers Basketball, Al Sharpton, Language, Censorship, Hillary Clinton, Reparations, Sexism, Bigotry, CBS, MSNBC, Presidential Politics, Charles McCord, Bernard McGuirk, Al Sharpton, Sid Rosenberg

How So Big, And Why Does This Stuff Matter?

There is a code of conduct here at Contratimes. It is my code, my internal set of standards. It is a code of temperance, of restraint. It is what I have freely chosen to be and to do: I am not given to rants, screeds, and vitriol. Guests are always treated fairly, and with deep and abiding respect. But I do not expect others to behave according to my own rules.

The Imus controversy (largely an American story) and what I have just said are curiously connected, I believe. Here's why.

Did you know that there is a brouhaha across the Internet about the establishment of blogging rules? Perhaps you didn't. And perhaps you did not know that part of the discussion has been around disallowing comment threads on blog sites. Too much freedom, I guess.

Let us step back to November 19, 2004. That was the day John Kerry, who had two weeks earlier lost his bid to become America's president, emailed his supporters. In that electronic missal he wrote the following to his friends:

"You moved voters, helped hold George Bush accountable, and countered the attacks from big news organizations such as Fox, Sinclair Broadcasting, and conservative talk radio."

Note what he intimated -- that his campaign fought against "big news" outlets like Fox News, Sinclair Broadcasting, AND conservative talk radio. These three things John Kerry listed as the banes of his crusade. Notice that he did not say that his White House bid was thwarted by the Republican National Committee or President Bush or by American voters.

Don Imus, as you all should know, is/was a premiere radio talk-show host with a stellar production team and an A-List guest roster. His show was a veritable Who's Who of American pop iconography; his guests were drawn from all levels of media and political importance. And, as you also must know, Mr. Imus, described by many as a wonderful interviewer, blended his interviews with mockery and scoffing and innuendo. He was constantly baiting guests to indict themselves; he was always looking to create scandal, or some sort of incrimination; or to spot some kind of blunder or tic that he might use against his guest. And he did this almost always in a way that was playful and often not-so-playful. His manner was usually engaging, and very lucrative. But most of all, he was looking for a laugh.

His strength, really, was that he was one of the few members of the media who would say what so many people wished they could say. When he called Vice President Dick Cheney "a war criminal," many people agreed. When he scoffed at John Kerry for bungling an apology for a bungled joke, listeners were screaming at their radios in approval (or, at least, I bet many did). There were few people who had been invited to Imus' show who did not get their persona demystified; and that was Imus' ultimate gift to American culture: he took the mystique and aura and artifice out of celebrity and wealth. He was, and is, an American iconoclast. Pure and simple.

That does not mean you must like him. You need not approve of him or send him flowers. I am merely pointing out what he is, and why he is liked. He is an incredibly smart and shrewd man; he has built something of an empire around demystifying New York's idols and America's broadest pretensions. He is a satirist, a lampoon artist, a crank. He is an H. L. Mencken with a microphone; a misanthrope with a mission. And yet he is a misanthrope who is on the cutting edge of philanthropy and change, and he has raised hundreds of millions of dollars for charity, and has increased listeners' awareness of environmental toxins, deficient military death benefits, pediatric cancer treatments and autism (to name a few).

Is it wrong to ask why all the umbrage and outrage, why all the moral high dudgeon, after Mr. Imus' unfortunate use of the word "hos" to describe a college basketball team? Why does it seem that so many people have lost perspective, their sense of proportion? How did this story get so big, and big so quickly?

Let me make a few guesses.

First, it has to do with what is happening in presidential politics. The big new name on everybody's tongue is Barack Obama. No one is thinking Al Sharpton when thinking of the first African-American president (and let it be known that Al Sharpton does not think Barack Obama has done enough for African-Americans to be president). And we all know that John Kerry is out of the picture; his final moment came, really, right after his botched joke last fall, when he appeared on Don Imus' show and utterly made a fool of himself, with Imus hanging up on him. Add to this mix the popular and well-known New York senator, Hillary Clinton, and you've got something really, really interesting.

You see, Imus had/has a lot of clout, and everybody knows it. His show drew considerable media attention; what was said on his show in the morning often became news later in the day. After John Kerry blew his "if-you-don't-do-well-in-school-you-end-up-in-Iraq" joke, the first place he made a public statement was on the Imus show, and everyone was listening. Sen. Chris Dodd announced his 2008 bid for the White House on Imus in the Morning. And let it be observed that Imus was and is a huge supporter of the African-American Tennessee politician Harold Ford, Jr.; Ford has made frequent appearances on that show.

Now, I ask myself this one question: Who would love to work vengeance upon Don Imus? Well, for one, John Kerry, for Imus utterly humiliated him; and this after Imus had said -- repeatedly -- that he was a Kerry supporter in the 2004 elections. It follows logically that nearly anyone else who hoped for Kerry to win in 2004, and run again in 2008, would have it out for Mr. Imus. But the person who most has to gain from Imus' silence is Hillary Clinton, for we all know how much Don Imus despises the Clintons (for, I believe, their essential betrayal of him after his controversial appearance at Radio and TV Correspondents Association Dinner at the White House in 1996). It is evident that Imus would have supported ANYONE but Hillary for the White House; and since he has shown the ability to support African-Americans, it is very likely that he would have lent his support to Barack Obama.

What I am saying is this: Knowing (at least through Imus' own comments over the years) the history of Don Imus and the Clintons, there is ample evidence that the Clintons would love to see Imus suffer, even to slip into silence. It is my guess, and it is only a guess, that the Clintons have played a major part in generating fury over this incident. Remember, this thing went big really quick, and Imus came out in a big, panicky apologetic way in a hurry. How does this happen? How does this happen to a man who is a giant, a legend? And how could he stagger so, and how could he even lose hold of what was the actual context and intent of his offending words?

And you have to ask yourself one more question: How does this happen to a man who uses language that one cannot call right-wing, or conservative, or even religious? No, this is a man who speaks the language of America. This is a man who has asked that charges of war crimes be brought against the President of the United States. This is a man who has called for the immediate withdrawal of troops from Iraq. This is a man largely secular and even humanistic in speech and behavior. How is it that HE, of all people in the media, is suddenly gone?

Second, related to this is the prominent figure Al Sharpton: He has attached himself to this whole thing for two reasons. The first is to put himself back into play, for he is being out-noticed by Barack Obama. Second, some have used this moment (see "Too Little, Too Late?" here) to force Mr. Obama to play his hand (and he has now played it), to make Mr. Obama prove that he is one of the race-conscious reactionaries that compose much of the Democratic Party. Are you with us? is their question. And, as you can guess, this sort of thing works well into Hillary Clinton's hand: if Obama joins with Sharpton he may look like a race-extortionist, and if he doesn't, he looks weak on racism and insufficiently sensitive to black issues.

So, what does this all have to do with a "code of conduct?" Well, a lot, really. If you have listened at all to Al Sharpton and many of the other chattering chins bewailing Don Imus' remarks, you will hear something like this: Don Imus abused the federally regulated public airwaves. Even the Rutgers University President, Richard L. McCormick, mentioned the public airwaves in his formal statements:

"It is unconscionable for anyone to use the airways to utter such disgraceful, disgusting, and racist remarks and to show such disregard for the dignity of human beings who have accomplished so much and deserve great credit."

That this reference to the public airways/airwaves is so frequent means only one thing: The left in this country is intent on stopping talk radio, particularly conservative talk radio. And, related to this, the left is intent on limiting discussion on blogs. Why the latter? Perhaps because commenters can throw bombs -- with links leading people away (to truth?) or astray -- on others' blogs without being challenged. That, perhaps, is just a small part of it. Yes, these same folks could disable -- like I can -- the comments portion of their blogs, but the rules some are seeking go beyond comments. This is all about control (in the guise of decency).

And it is really, really about suppressing speech. And remember, even if Don Imus is using public airwaves, his critics are suggesting one thing: free speech is guaranteed, but not everywhere, especially on the air.

All in all, this is about fulfilling what John Kerry said needed to be done: Activists need to shut down Fox News (and Fox News is indeed effectively marginalized in many quarters), Sinclair Broadcasting, and talk radio. The assault on talk-radio is now in full swing.

In short, this is about YOU. I don't care whether you are pro or con, left or right, blue or red. This is about a leftist assault on free speech; on discussion, debate and, yes, even the possibility of anarchy. The right-wing in America has never been this aggressive, this righteous, this cocksure of its moral standing. Never. It is the left-wing that is trying to bring about what it believes YOU MUST HAVE TO BE SAFE and COMPLIANT.

Read this article, or this (Google censoring websites for communist governments), if you doubt me; or read Al Sharpton's statement "that this is only the beginning," or Keith Olbermann's interview with Jesse Jackson.

Lastly, let me say this. If Imus, a man in the highest places moving among America's elites, a man who speaks language you would never hear in church, if he is ousted from his job because he said a poor and ugly joke, how much more in jeopardy are those who DO NOT SPEAK the language of this culture, who do not conform? If Imus can be pilloried for saying a pop-culture word like "hos", how much more the person who believes homosexuality is sinful? How much more the person who believes that abortion is murder? How much more the person who believes global-warming theory is scientifically suspect? How much more the person who disagrees with the zeitgeist?

This may be the biggest media story of my lifetime. No kidding. And let me be perfectly clear about my own position on this: I am not an Imus fan. Yes, I have listened to his show -- a lot. Much of what I do here is in response to something I have heard on his show, something I disagreed with on his show. I doubt very much that Mr. Imus would like me; he might very well find me a loser (and, in many ways, I am). And let me be clear about what I think of the phrase "nappy headed hos." I hate it. It is an ugly expression, and, even if it was not racially charged when Imus said it, it now is -- forever. "Nappy" has now become a racist term (and it wasn't last week).

It is infuriating to hear people suggest that this is a "teaching" or "learning" moment in American culture. It is infuriating because it is so token, so shallow, so small-minded. Why is this moment a learning moment, when countless other moments -- from "Hymie Town" to "white niggers" to hip-hop misogyny to the rants of Louis Farrakhan denouncing interracial marriage -- how have these NOT been learning moments?

There is more to all of this Imus stuff than meets the eye, I am afraid to say. And I am, in some way, afraid to say it.

Peace to you, all of you, friend and foe alike. We are supposed to be in this together.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati tags:
Don Imus, Racism, Rutgers Basketball, Al Sharpton, Language, Censorship, Hillary Clinton, Charles McCord, Bernard McGuirk, Al Sharpton, Sid Rosenberg

The End Of Reason: The Mad Are In Charge - The Firing Of Don Imus

[update: This post was written in haste. I have emended it at 5:29 pm EST]

Breaking news is sometimes breaking. Sometimes it is broken.

Moments ago I heard on the radio that Don Imus has now finally lost his radio program. CBS has fired Mr. Imus. It is broken news. Desperately broken. And to think he has been fired for calling one women's basketball team "cute."

I wonder, have you ever read Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged? If you haven't, you are missing one of the most prescient books ever written. In brief, the villains of Atlas Shrugged, all with the noblest intent, steal the wealth of those who actually produce wealth. By the latter I mean that there are indeed folks who generate enormous wealth -- for themselves and others. Exxon-Mobil, for example, is a wealth producer, as is General Motors or Ford Motor Company or Microsoft. For all of these companies generate massive payrolls; they employ hundreds of thousands of people.

Compared to these wealth-makers, there are indeed those who are essentially the parasitic villains who resent and envy the success of those who, practically speaking, are infinitely capable of making wealth for others, of turning healthy profits. Such parasitic villains protest and legislate and gesticulate to much public notice; and they succeed in extorting wealth from the wealth-makers and, finally, forcing the wealth-makers to withdraw from society. The result? The parasites die helplessly and desperately, for they do not know how to make money for themselves.

In the Ayn Rand sense, Al Sharpton is an economic parasite: he, and his minions, have forced a wealth-producer out of business. For Don Imus generates massive wealth for many people; not just for him and his aides, but for the company he worked for and those companies who advertise their wares on Imus' program. Millions and millions of dollars, doled out in payrolls, health care, and property taxes, are produced by Mr. Imus and his work. From the books peddled by Mr. Imus and the music he has promoted, Don Imus has proven that he contributes enormously to the economic vitality of many.

On top of that, Mr. Imus generates massive amounts of cash for all sorts of charities. He has raised hundreds of millions of dollars for all kinds of incredibly important causes.

Al Sharpton is exactly the opposite of Mr. Imus. Mr. Sharpton is an extortionist and hanger-on; he is economically parasitic. He does not generate wealth. None at all.

Even Shame has turned his back on all of this.

This, believe it or not, is not the end of Don Imus. He is too big to be lost in this controversy. The losers here are going to be race relations in America, and Al Sharpton.

But the biggest loser is freedom. For now.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati tags: Imus, Racism, Sharpton, Don Imus,
Rutgers Basketball, Language, Censorship, Charles McCord, Bernard McGuirk, Al Sharpton, Sid Rosenberg

The End Of The Imus Controversy? He Called Them "Cute"

To those of you who are paying attention to the Imus/Rutgers controversy, I must ask this question: Is not the story already over?

Let me point out something I noted earlier today: During the moments of great offense when he besmirched the Rutgers women's basketball players, Imus called the OTHER basketball team, the University of Tennessee Lady Vols (the women's team that defeated Rutgers for the NCAA national championship) something that was not one whit racial. He called them "cute."

Why make this point? Because if you look at the UT Lady Vols team photograph, you will see that seven of the eleven teammates are of African-American descent. How, then, is Imus being racist if he finds one predominantly black team cuter than another? Does his "cute" remark not immediately re-frame the whole issue: that Imus was talking about a masculine-looking, tough-looking team that was facing a cuter, more feminine team? It's hard to think otherwise, especially since he affirmed what Sid Rosenberg, Imus' guest sports commentator, said during Imus' offending moment: that when he (Rosenberg) saw the Rutgers team step out onto the court he thought they looked like "the Toronto Raptors", you know, a MEN'S professional team. All this, as is well-noted, was done amidst laughter and adolescent goofiness.

Not that any of this absolves Imus of the fact that he hurt people with his words; that his words were ill-chosen, mean, and degrading. But many of his words are demeaning; nay, most of them are. But that is his whole gag: as I said before, he and his team are the bawdy bad-boys holding court on America's loading dock; they are the loudmouth bullies at the back of America's bus. Imus "hurts"† me nearly every hour he broadcasts; he berates many of the values I hold dear. His "Jesus God" profanation occurs dozens of times per show, and it offends my religious faith. But can I divine that he is ruthless at heart, or that God is damning him? I am not in a position to divine that at all. Sadly, many people are suddenly able to damn Mr. Imus to hell; and yet, in the midst of it all, they do not notice that he called the national champions "cute". They hear only what they want to hear. They cannot hear his compliment and, because of their hair-triggered hearts, they cannot possibly understand the context of Mr. Imus' words.

My sense, in light of Mr. Imus' efforts at reconciliation, is that he is an inherently decent albeit flawed human being. But I am also very flawed; I am more flawed than anybody else. So I will not damn him. It is not what I am permitted to do.

Peace, always.

†I am not so fragile.
©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati tags: Imus, Racism, Sharpton, Don Imus,
Rutgers Basketball, Language, Censorship, Charles McCord, Bernard McGuirk, Al Sharpton, Sid Rosenberg

On Culture: The Four Essential Contradictions Of The Don Imus Story

[Let me get right to it. You already know the story at hand. I do not usually condone Don Imus' use of derogatory language in general, so I do not condone his use of such language in the particular issue dominating the news. His work is fraught with ridicule, mockery, and iconoclasm. He and his team are the crude guys hanging out on America's loading dock during coffee break; they are the bullies in the back of the bus. Sometimes even the dopey bullies can be funny; and sometimes they are not. I will not now analyze what Mr. Imus said or meant, though I think there is much to be said about the context of his remarks. Instead, I want to note the nearly invisible things I have seen and heard in the last 48 hours.]

Contradiction #1: Self-disrespect and outrage

Yesterday, while the Reverend Al Sharpton was interviewing Don Imus during Sharpton's radio program, Mr. Imus referred to himself, facetiously, as a "cracker." The context of Mr. Imus' self-referential remarks came at the close of the interview.

Immediately Mr. Sharpton interrupted his guest. He wanted listeners to understand that Mr. Imus was using the term "cracker" on his own, that he, Sharpton, had not called Mr. Imus any such thing. To this Mr. Imus responded that he was using the term of himself.

Suddenly Mr. Sharpton got very, well, officious. Here is the exchange in total (quoted from the show's transcript):

IMUS: ...I am willing to participate and look into my heart, first to try to talk to these children, these young women and then to try to make this better and to try to somehow heal what I've done because I really do understand the horrible damage that I have done to these young women because I know even a couple of them are from tough neighborhoods and there's already jealousy and resentment in their neighborhoods and they already -- and now they have some old cracker on the radio calling them some sort of name and they have to deal with that and so I have ...

SHARPTON: The term "cracker" you used on yourself. I didn't call you that.

IMUS: Yes, I know.

SHARPTON: I'm sure some of your supporters will be on TV today saying I called you that.

IMUS: No ...

SHARPTON: And I would appreciate it if you would respect your own race on my show. [my emphasis]

Amazing.

Tuesday morning, on NBC's Today show, in an interview involving Matt Lauer and Messrs. Imus and Sharpton, Mr. Imus said that the "context" of his remarks needed to be heeded and understood. Besides, he added, the words he used were not uttered in malice or vindictiveness; they were meant humorously. More importantly, he continued, the words were words borrowed from Mr. Sharpton's own black community; the word "ho", not only originating in hip-hop but even elevated to a word of distinction, is used viciously and hatefully by [many, not all] black men throughout America.

Mr. Sharpton interrupted Mr. Imus, saying that he speaks against such injurious language no matter where it is spoken; no matter who is speaking it. [Mr. Sharpton made similar remarks in the transcript cited above.]

Now, let me point out the obvious: the word "nigger" and the word "ho" are considered by all of us to be deeply offensive. Mr. Imus only used the latter; I have never heard him use the former. But I hear nearly daily -- if I watch a black comic perform on TV or if I listen to most hip-hop -- African-Americans use these hateful and degrading terms. Of course, they are used by African-Americans, and are used as self-reference or in reference to other African-Americans.

But, and here's the point, one cannot find any evidence that Al Sharpton is out in the "hoods" trying to stop people from using this offensive language. He is not advocating boycotts of radio stations that play abusive hip-hop songs; he is not protesting outside comedy clubs where black men call themselves "nigger." Recently, on Inside the Actors Studio with James Lipton, I heard guest Chris Rock use -- to much laughter by many whites in the audience -- the word "nigger" several times. But I ask you this: If Al Sharpton is willing to reprove Don Imus for disparaging his own race, why is Mr. Sharpton not reproving Chris Rock for the same offense (and nearly every hip-hop artist on the planet)? Where is Sharpton's outrage at those who daily and constantly disrespect the very race they share with Mr. Sharpton?

Contradiction 2: We all, fall, down!

Yesterday, during the Rutgers University press conference called to address Don Imus' remarks, RU Women's Basketball coach C. Vivian Stringer said the following, and I quote from a transcription I made off of a YouTube video clip:

"You know it was amazing because, less than twenty four hours after they [the team] had accomplished so much, and when we should have come back to Rutgers, to have all people exalt and speak of all of the things that they had accomplished and all the hopes and dreams that they gave to so many young girls and to young people, and to people everywhere, all of you, about what it meant to work hard, they came back to this. We have all been mentally, physically and emotionally spent, so hurt by the remarks that were uttered by Mr. Imus.

"But you see, we also understood a long time ago that, you know what, no one can make you feel inferior unless you allow them, that we can’t let other people steal our joy, we’ve always understood that, for a long, long time....

"...We had to experience racist and sexist remarks that are deplorable, despicable and abominable, and unconscionable, and it hurts me. ... you know ... I was a victim of racial discrimination, but you see I had a father and a mom, and a group of people who stood up for me ... and my dad ...said, 'Vivian, if you don’t stand up something you’ll fall for anything.'

"So as I felt what Mr. Imus said, I experienced this not only as a coach and as a mom to them, but as a person who had also experienced the same and I hurt, yes, and I’ve cried, and I’ve been angry, and disappointed because I don’t understand all that and yet to a great extent I do." [my emphasis]

Later in the press conference, one player stood up and shared how, instead of coming home to fanfare at the teams' outstanding season, players came home to scandal and controversy. She said that her entire holiday weekend was centered around Don Imus' hurtful words.

Please note, then, Contradiction #2, for it is subtle: C. Vivian Stringer's message to her team, that NO ONE CAN STEAL YOUR JOY, or NO ONE CAN MAKE YOU FEEL INFERIOR UNLESS YOU LET THEM, has not been heeded, not by the RU team or by Ms. Stringer herself: Some hack radio guy has ruined what should have been an exultant moment -- AND THEY LET HIM DO IT!

Imus' remarks were foolish, and, yes, even offensive -- clearly. But his words DID NOT determine Ms. Vivian's reaction -- she did. She need not let his words hurt her, but she did. She could have stood tall, like her father said; instead she chose to fall, fall into hurt, sadness, anger, and tears. In other words, she empowered Imus by giving him more than he deserved; and, like Ms. Stringer, everyone else is giving him more than he deserved. One wonders who went out of his or her way to tell these girls about what some white guy said -- in coarse and crude jesting -- about them on the radio. Did that person not realize that the very reporting of Imus' sin would steal the team's joy? Egads! Instead of holding press conferences and parades in celebration of the team's achievements, the president of Rutgers, and the coach herself, have chosen to ignore that achievement so they can focus attention on everybody's injuries! For shame. How dare these people encourage their students to be so weak and easily influenced! To hell with Don Imus; who cares what he says?! Get on with living, get on with knowing joy! Celebrate, don't fixate. Stop licking your wounds. Stand up and stop falling down every time somebody says something stupid.

Contradiction #3: What about that other team?

Take a look at any photo of the Rutgers University womens' basketball team. This is the team Imus jokingly referred to as "nappy-headed hos". Despicable as that phrase is, it is clear -- any photo proves this -- that he was wrong. Note, also, that the team is not all black; two of the players are white. Now, I ask you to look at the team photo of the University of Tennessee women's basketball team, the OTHER team in all of this: This is the team that defeated Rutgers for the national title. Note that the majority of them are African-Americans.

Now, I ask: What did Imus say about the OTHER team, the one from Tennessee, during his commentary when he misspoke about the players at Rutgers? Yes, that's right. He called them "cute." In other words, he called a MOSTLY BLACK TEAM CUTE.

No one has said a word about that. Of course, Imus can only be a racist.

Contradiction #4: Forgive first, then stone

When asked by NBC's Matt Lauer whether he, the Reverend Al Sharpton, a man of Christ, would forgive Mr. Imus his many sins, Mr. Sharpton said that he would. But, he added, that would not stop Imus from being punished.

We should all pause at this dulling remark, because it is disgusting. For the one person who is indeed doing the punishing is Al Sharpton. Anyone knows that if a thing is forgiven, it is forgotten. Specifically, what Al Sharpton's forgiveness must mean is that he cannot seek to punish Mr. Imus. Imus could still be punished -- by others. But Al Sharpton, if he truly does forgive, has therefore chosen to free Imus of any charges he, Al Sharpton, may wish to bring forward.

Mr. Sharpton, in defending his position, mentioned that he visited a man convicted and imprisoned for stabbing him. Mr. Sharpton said that he told the man that he forgave him, but that his forgiveness could not stop the sentence from being carried out; punishment must continue. And Mr. Sharpton is absolutely right, punishment will continue. But the punishment cannot and will not be at the hand of Mr. Sharpton, for he has forgiven the man. The state does the punishing, and if that state should forgive Mr. Sharpton's attacker, his punishment will cease.

Let me enlarge upon this a bit more. If I forgive some friend a $2000 debt, I do not then attempt to collect it anyway. If I as a parent forgive my child for breaking my favorite vase, I do not then spank that child. There are no doubt times I forgive a friend his sins that are not sins against me; I tell friends all the time that I forgive them for being sinners. But I do not tell them that my absolution will stop OTHERS from seeking their due. When my child breaks someone else's vase, I cannot forgive her -- fully -- for that act, nor can I spare her the consequences. And I may choose to punish my child for some sin, but I never do so if forgiveness has been offered and received. I may punish my child only if my child refuses to admit guilt: punishment is meant to incite -- hopefully -- a guilty conscience, and to bring that conscience to repentance and forgiveness. But punishment and forgiveness -- once forgiveness is granted -- do NOT go hand in hand. Punishment ends where forgiveness begins.

So, Mr. Sharpton, oddly, has placed himself as both absolver and executioner of Don Imus' career. That this is hardly a Christian role Mr. Sharpton is playing is blatantly obvious. Mr. Sharpton is acting as Imus' judge, not his mediator. He is not offering counsel, he's offering the pillory. That Don Imus has a debt to pay is quite true. But if Al Sharpton has forgiven Don Imus, then Al Sharpton has but one option. He needs to be silent. He cannot seek retribution. If he does so seek it, then he has not forgiven a man who has sincerely apologized to his face -- and to the nation.

One final note: If the Rutgers coach is right when she says that the players on her basketball team are "God’s representatives in every sense of the word," then those players have only one option: they must forgive -- and move on. If they forgive, like God, they cannot then seek punishment. They can't. Forgiveness is that simple. God does not forgive your debts only to shake you down. Imus will surely be punished, but he cannot be punished by those who forgive him.

And that's the whole point of Christian forgiveness: it costs the forgiver something to forgive, namely his or her right to seek vengeance. Forgiveness cost God His life; it costs us all a lot, too. But punishment is reserved solely for those who do not want forgiveness. Imus clearly has asked for it. He has renounced his sin.

How odd then to read this headline: Women's basketball team unsure if it'll accept Imus' apology.

God's representatives? Let's hope so.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.

Technorati tags:
Don Imus, Racism, Rutgers Basketball, Springer, Matt Lauer, Al Sharpton, Language, Censorship

Post 444: I Press On With Gratitude

Two years and two days ago, I began this little blog. It is but one voice among many; it is a voice hardly heard. But that is OK. There is comfort in some anonymity, in partial invisibility. The showy and loud are heard and seen often enough. It is no small part to be the muted tone in a garish tableau, or the soft word in the silver-bright clatter. It is easy enough to be the peacock, perhaps, although that grand bird is not known for its subtle camouflage. But those flying bits of forest you can hardly see, those warbling songs you can hardly hear: What would forest and fen be like without their hidden, secret blend?

This is post 444, and it should have been posted on 7 April 07. It comes two days late because I suffered a mild concussion Saturday in a rare but violent ski accident. I feel in many ways that had I not been wearing a helmet when I crashed, post 444 would not be here today. I have been to the doctor's, I have been through the anxiety grind. I should be fine, though I am not at all myself right now. So, belatedly and through the haze of some freaky vertigo, I want to take this moment to thank all who have visited here, all 25,000 or so "unique" visitors. Thank you for leaving comments, befriending me backstage via email, or linking to something here you thought witty, foolish or something far worse. And not a few of you have told me that you've prayed for me, which is no small gesture. Thank you all. And thank you each.

I began here in 2005 with a very imperfect essay about intellectual blindness. I do not presume that any of us is without it; I surely have it. But I do presume that many people do not know they have it; and I believe Paul Krugman, who I wrote about in my inaugural post, is not aware of his own limitations. Some people forget that under the tablecloth there is a table, one that might very well be disgustingly dirty. But a tablecloth is not a table, which is perhaps to state the obvious; but it is a veneer, a shield, a shade: it is a cloak often concealing that which needs to be examined, washed, polished and, yes, even fixed. Rhetoric and polemics have their own gauzy shawl, and my aim is to look beneath it, though not in a skirt-lifting, prurient way: I want to get to thought's firm bones and to exorcise the shimmering ghosts we've been fooled to think have substance.

I earnestly pray that I may offer intelligent and edifying commentary here. And I pray that in some small way I am a help to someone.

Again, thank you for caring. You will never know my debt to you.

Peace and mirth.

©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.