society and culture
I've been fighting for some time with the term "redneck." While not racist, I think, it's classist. The same basic thing: making assumptions about an individual's character based on a stereotype of his racial, cultural, ethnic group.
Really, I try not to use that term.
And then feel guilty when I laugh at something like this.
In the spirit of St. Bernard’s via negativa, there are few things to make you more appreciative of your spouse than perusing on-line personals. “Tell me I’ll never be back out there,” Carrie Fisher’s character says to Bruno Kirby in When Harry Met Sally, and after looking through a few on-line personals, the “dating scene” shows itself to be most definitely “out there.”
A good personal ad is an art. Just try describing yourself and what you’re looking for in less than 200 words. Less is more difficult.
Piling words on top of each other is much easier than constructing well-written sentences. But despite the fact that this is the _first_ impression they’re making, no one — neither men nor women — takes it so seriously. Instead, we read things like, “Hmmm about me. I guess you can say I’m a pretty funny broad.” Already we’re smiling at how much her word choice has said about her. Scroll down and we find, “Ok, where to start… like many people, I feel that I am just not meeting the ‘right people’ out at bars” To begin with, start without the “where to start.”
In advertising themselves, people tend to fall into cliché with alarming frequency – then wallow about in it. And it starts with the ad’s header:
Some communicate on so many levels (many of them distressful) that they seemed to be masterpieces of Freudian innuendo:
Yahoo! personals washed up more than its share of clichés and freaks, but there were some thoughtful openings as well.
Well, one: “carpal tunnel love.” It just makes me all the more thankful that I’m married, that I no longer have such worries as “Will I still be alone when I’m sixty-four?”
She’ll still need me; she’ll still feed me.
I’ve never understood that phrase, though I’ve read it from time to time. It’s a good enough term for members of the Presidental Prayer Team.
They’re stated goal:
The goal of The Presidential Prayer Team was to enlist 1% of the American population or 2.8 million people, to pray for the President, both this administration and future administrations. This goal was reached on May 1, 2003, just 600 days after The Presidential Prayer Team was launched. Plans are in the works to establish new goals and objectives of the Prayer Team. It is our sincere belief that this effort could radically alter the future of our country as our President and our nation are prayed for on a daily basis.
Further, regarding the issue of whether the effort is “affiliated with any political party, elected official or governmental agency,” we read,
The Presidential Prayer Team is a spiritual movement of the American people which is not affiliated with any political party or official. It gains no direction or support, official or unofficial, from the current administration, from any agency of the government or from any political party, so that it may be free and unencumbered to equally serve the prayer needs of all current and future leaders of our great nation.
But really, will they still be around when there’s a Democrat in the White House? And if they are, will the issues on their pray list be apolitical (i.e., not decidedly pro-life)?
Oil prices approach $70 a barrel, with analysts saying an even $100 a barrel is not unrealistic.
Politicians say there’s little we can do about it, and point out that the national average is still not as high as the inflation-adjusted prices of 1981 of $3.11.
“I wish I could say there is a quick fix, but there is not,” said Rep. Bob Beauprez, a Colorado Republican who is expected to face a tough reelection campaign next year. “Everybody is feeling the pinch.” (Washington Post)
Everybody is feeling the pinch, but I’m sure Bush’s oil company cronies are feeling it less than we mortals. Such is the reality of a market economy, some might say, shrugging their shoulders and walking away.
Quick fixes? We had thirty years to solve this problem. What did we learn from the late—70s, when long queues at the pump helped force Carter out of the White House? Apparently nothing. Hybrid car sales are most certainly rising — we’re thinking the next car we buy will have to be hybrid — but it all seems too little too late. No one is in a position to thumb his nose at the oil cartels and say, “Screw you! We just won’t buy your oil.”
China would surely be grateful.
We’ve built our entire civilization on fossil fuels, and it seems that the people sitting on said fuels will soon be realizing the power they wield. OPEC has us by the gonads, and has for decades. We saw in the late—70s what could happen, and yet our dependence only grew.
Not only that, but in America we’ve built our culture on a sense of independence that somehow dictates that we all have cars, that we fill our highways with cars transporting only the driver and a cell phone.
Lawmakers also cannot easily suspend or reduce the 18.4-cent-per-gallon federal tax on gasoline. That money goes straight into a trust fund for covering highway and mass-transit upgrades. When gas prices climbed in the 1990s, some Republicans were quick to call for lowering the tax. This time, however, Congress has boxed itself in by passing the largest-ever transportation bill just before leaving for the August recess.
And how much of that transportation bill was aimed at improving public transportation? If you live in a larger city, a car might not even be necessary. Living in Poland showed me that even if you live in the boondocks, a car is not completely necessary. A nice convenience, but not a necessity.
Sen. John F. Kerry (D-Mass.) and others say Bush should take a harder line with Saudi Arabia and other oil-producing nations, and demand that they release more oil and help push down the price of oil, which hit a record $66 per barrel this week. But skeptics say that approach has not worked in the past. “We have to realize they have the oil, and it’s a seller’s market,” Beauprez said.
Don’t worry — Bush will find a reason to attack them soon enough and then we’ll have all the oil we need.
Wasn’t this Iraq thing supposed to be about oil? Isn’t that what we bleeding hearts have been saying all along, that the WMD charges were just a smoke screen to justify a long-planned war? For whom could that oil be intended?
Even if that obstacle could be surmounted, “if you roll back that tax, people have to keep in mind that may not transfer into savings for consumers,” said American Automobile Association spokesman Mantill Williams. “It’s not automatic [that gasoline firms] will give that discount to the consumer.”
Oh — right. Right. Bush’s and Condie’s and, well, the whole administration’s buddies in the oil industry are getting their campaign contributions back many times over. It was a sound investment.
America, goes the cliché, where we have the best politicians money can buy.
Oil companies have us over a pork barrel and that’s that. We drive buy a service station and, noticing that the prices has jumped up two cents overnight, cut in quickly to fill up before it goes up again — even if there’s three-quarters’ of a tank still in the car. We buy their product even when we don’t need it at the moment…
There’s something fascinating about the character of Barabbas in the Bible. He is the ultimate Christian type for all humanity, for Jesus literally dies for him according to the Gospels. Though the tradition is recorded nowhere outside the Bible, the Gospels tell us that it was the custom to release one prisoner around Passover time, and the crowds (who through the centuries become simply “Jews”) demand Barabbas be released and Jesus crucified.
Par Lagerkvist wrote a novella in the 1950’s about Barabbas after the crucifixion, about his desire to believe, to convert to Christianity, but his inability to go through with it. He sees Jesus crucified; he’s at the tomb at Easter (though of course he doesn’t see the resurrection, simply the empty tomb afterwards), and yet he still doesn’t believe.
It’s the curse of modern times -- a will to believe and yet an inability to do so. Winifred Galligher writes of this in Working on God. The modern solution, Rabbi Burton Visotzky tells Galligher, is a fight:
[Belief] may be the battle of your life, but emotionally and intellectually, it could also be the most exhilarating one you’ve ever engaged in. Whether you experience God’s reality or are just intellectually intrigued by the idea, God can be a very real force in peoples’ lives – spiritual, emotional, supportive – that almost no other system can offer. But you must gird yourself for a fight and know that you’re going to have to try to reconcile very difficult things. Or at least hold them in suspension and bounce them back and forth and get tired. There’s no quick fix, but we have the benefit of drawing on thousands of years of religious thinking. You can’t learn it over a weekend. It’s an engagement for the rest of your life. (261)
More so than during Kierkegaard’s life, it boils down, for some, to a Kierkegaardian leap of faith. Evolutionary theory and the general advances of some sciences make belief unbelievable, but for some there’s always an intellectual draw toward the idea of a great Something More.
Barabbas probably believed in a Something More. He was, after all, a first-century Jew and by many accounts, a Zealot, hoping an overthrow of Roman control over Jerusalem would hasten the Messiah’s return. What Langerkvist’s Barabbas is struggling for is not a believe in God, but a belief that he himself saw God in the flesh, however oxymoronically that might have seemed then, or still seem now. Langerkvist’s Barabbas then is a parable of someone who is having trouble trusting a first hand experience of what others called the divine.
If it was that difficult for him, think how much more so it must be for us, separated 20 centuries from the historical object of faith.
“I want to believe.” That seems to be the cry of many in the twenty-first century. William James argued that that very will to believe was sufficient in some situations, namely those like religion which cannot be concluded on purely rational grounds.
Why believe, though? There are those of us who are torn, who sometimes think it would be wonderful to fall on their knees in thankful prayer but mostly think religion is an antiquated relic that will pass with time. It’s the experiential factor that is most unnerving for such folk:
Let's not get too hard on the Holy Roman Church here. The Church has its problems, but the older I get, the more comfort I find there. The physical experience of being in a crowd of largely humble people, heads bowed, murmuring prayers, stories told in stained-glass windows … (Interview with Bono, from U2)
Seeing others people’s faith used to make me shake my head in disbelief. “How can people be so gullible, so naïve?” I used to think. But the older I get, the more fascinating it is, especially hearing the echo of five hundred people reciting the creed that’s been the backbone of Christian belief for centuries.
Mindless repetition for some, but looking at some folks’ faces, it’s easy to see the depth of belief there.
How many cultural issues can you spot in the image of an American man going to buy swimming trunks? More than you’d expect.
Sunday Kinga and I went out with friends of the family on their houseboat. Those who can read Polish got more details form Kinga, but suffice it to say that water skiing was one of the afternoon activities and Kinga got up on her first try.
Before going, though, I needed a pair of swimming trunks. I have a pair that I bought in Poland, but I’d not be seen in public wearing those in the States. They are, in a word, Speedos. I bought the longest pair the store had, but they’re still skin tight and extremely skimpy. What is it about European men wearing Speedos all the time?
I have nothing against Speedos in the proper context. In fact, I’ve worn them many times — in competitive swimming events. But walking around the beach? Swimming around in a lake? It seems like taking a Ferrari to the corner store for a pack of cigarettes — completely unwarranted and a more-than-slight exaggeration.
So, not wanting to parade around in Speedos yet wanting to save as much money as possible, Kinga and I did the logical thing: we went to Wal-Mart to buy swimming trunks.
It was a mistake.
Wal-Mart is, arguably, one of the cheaper stores in the States, which means it attracts a certain clientele from a certain socio-economic group of people. I don’t know if in fact that has anything to do with the fact that literally 95% of the trunks we found were size XXL, but I have my suspicions. And the colors and designs: Lord, I left with a headache.
I ended up leaving with a pair of violently bright green shorts because they were the only pair I could find that were size large. They’re too big for me, but I feared one of the three “Mediums” we found would be too small.
Even if you never looked at any other cultural aspect, you could learn a lot about the differences between America and Poland simply by attending one Mass in each country.
American society is more egalitarian and open, and the Mass in an American Catholic church reflects this. Boys and girls both serve as altar — what? Children? The division between priest and layperson dissolves as laypeople–including women–hand out the host for communion.
Polish society is much more patriarchal and hierarchical. Girls serving as altar helpers would be scandalous, and the priest really is seen as, spiritually speaking if not otherwise, a notch above the average layperson. He, and only he, can hand out the host.
Other striking differences:
What was most striking for me occurred early on in the sermon. The first reading of the Mass dealt with Elijah being given a place to stay and promising his hostess that in a year, she would be pregnant. The priest summarized this as “hospitality.” He talked about different forms of hospitality, then mentioned “passive” hospitality. It included, and this is no exaggeration, not complaining about higher taxes used to support a war which gives Iraqi people their first chance at freedom. In one, short sentence, the priest showed
Kinga was a bit disappointed by it. It was not much of a surprise for me, though.
Tomorrow Kinga and I are hoping to go to Oświęcim, known of course to most of the world as Auschwitz. I’ve lived within sixty miles of it for seven years now, but I’ve never gotten the nerve to go visit. Though it seems a most depressing thing to do in our last week in Poland, Kinga and I decided that for precisely that reason – that we only have a few more days here – we should go while we have the chance.
It’s a bad time to go. Visiting Auschwitz always seemed more appropriate in the winter. Perhaps in some childish attempt to empathize with the victims, I always imagined going in the coldest period of winter, and purposely not dressing properly, as if my few hours of numbness makes up for anything. As if I should be making up for anything. Going in the late spring makes it somehow seem more frivolous, as if I’d feel compelled to stand in front of the famous “Arbeit Macht Frei” sign in my sandals and shorts and pose for a tasteless picture.
The whole issue of pictures itself is troubling. Should I? I don’t want to be a tourist, but what choice do I have? I don’t want to cheapen the experience by taking snapshots, but I also realize that it’s an opportunity of sorts. In then end, I’ll probably take a roll of black and white film and try to take some “artsy” shots.
It also seems like something one should experience alone. Discussion could too easily fall into idle chit-chat, I fear, but the reality is, the weight of the sense of tragedy there will silence us.
American Protestantism has lead the way in using modern technology to spread its gospel. Radio and television have long been the preferred method of evangelism for small Protestant groups (usually "fundamentalist" or "evangelical," however you want to construe those labels historically) that have the money, and when you think about it, it makes perfect sense. Protestantism, though it claims to be a unified body of believers -- a great invisible, church, "unified in Christ" -- is really the biggest religious market in the world. Sure, they all believe in Jesus, but each group wants you to support its version of Jesus. So, much like Pepsi and Coke battling for your soft drink dollar, Rod Parsley is going head-to-head with Benny Hinn, trying to get you to send your "seed offering" (and you just know what some pervert has done...) to his group.
It seems that America no longer holds a monopoly on commercial religion. Indian Gurus are catching on to the fact that not all spiritual teaching has to be done in an ashram.
As the [Indian] national economy blossoms, the role of the guru as someone who helps his followers find enlightenment is evolving: Many spiritual guides are now smooth marketers with, often enough, a considerable knowledge of how to maximize their commercial appeal.
Many gurus have been forced to revolutionize their practices -- packaging and aggressively marketing their religious services to cater to the changing desires of the consumer. Some have adopted the style of Western televangelists to promote their message.
Maybe a Hindu version of TBN is in the offing?
What's amazing is that these gurus are not only copying the televangelist style, but also the content, offering their own health-and-wealth gospel, it seems:
Personnel departments in big firms are calling on spiritual gurus to help new recruits handle the tensions of modern working life.
Spirituality shops offering "health and wealth kits" are doing good business, and newly created religious channels on domestic television are expanding their reach into millions of homes.
Herb, Rod, Benny, Robert (as in Tilton, as in "The Farting Preacher"), and myrad other American "entrepreneurs" would be proud, I'm sure.
I knew it was going to be an interesting evening when, browsing the hosts' bookselves, I saw the title Astral Projection.
"I'm a pagan," explained the hostess, and suddenly I wished I had a hidden camera.
Learn how to leave your body--walk through walls--fly around your neighborhood--meet your deceased loved ones and astral spirits--communicate with your guides and teachers--experience other dimensions--and even travel through time to witness past or future events! And Much Much More! 100 percent Guaranteed...
Later in the evening, I overheard the hostess saying, "When I mention love spells, people ask me, 'Oh, you can cast spells?! Can you make that cute guy fall in love with me?!' I just laugh and say, 'It doesn't work that way.'"
It works, just not that way. How, pray tell, would a "love spell" work, then?
Of course, I wandered around the 'net for a while the next day. I found this:
Hi. My name is Bob. I'm slowly becoming more and more interested in astral travel but have a few questions. Would you please help me with these?? I included all of you after reading the testimony you gave on machoneaudio.com. Serious responces [sic] only please.
- Are you ever in any danger when you are having an OBE? (i.e. demons, evil spirits, danger of not being able to come back, ...)
- Can you use these OBE for the purposes of becoming a person more loving??
- Do you meet angels/gardian [sic] spirits??? If so, what do they say to you??
- Have you ever attempted to draw near to the heavenly realms, and what happened if you did??
Again, please bare with me. I always was under the impression that this kinda thing was either dangerous or unhealthy.
I simply have some questions that I want to ask people who have done this theirselves, instead of simply reading a book.
I would appreciate your time and advice, whatever you think I should hear!
I knew that he didn't want a smart-ass response, and I realized as I typed away, giggling, that I was being very childish...but I couldn't resist:
Some tips about astral project/travel:
- It's the 21st century, so don't get caught up in silly gimmicks. Stick to the basics when it comes to obe.
- Because it's only something that exists in your mind, you need to bear in mind that everything you see is not what it seems but only an illusion produced by your gullibility.
- It's the 21st century, so remember that most people have replaced superstition for scientific knowledge. Keep that in mind during your travels.
- If you encounter a fellow traveler or a demon, it's probably just an acid flashback.
- It's perfectly safe to leave your body – nothing will hurt it – as long as you leave a shotgun by your body's side so it can protect itself.
- The body has a mind of it's own, so always lock the door before leaving your body.
- If you're tempted to take this all as a joke, you're probably too intelligent to be messing with astral projection.
- It's the 21st century. Remember that.
- If you've had as much fun reading this as I have writing it, you're probably too intelligent to be messing with astral projection.
- It's the 21st century. Remember that all religious hoaxes have been cleared by the bright dawn of scientific literacy. If you're tempted to believe this, you're probably not firmly in the 21st century.
Hope this helps.
In the exchange that followed, I got called "sagaciously stupid," "sophmoric [sic]," "childish," and he referred to my thoughts as "the luminous pearls of wisdom you so enlightened me with."
Guilty on most counts, I guess.
Astral projection makes objective claims that should, in theory, be testable: your spirit can leave your body. As a non-believer, I have a great problem with the whole notion of a ghost in the machine, but that aside, it's still problematic. If astral projection is possible, where's the proof? If it's this great feat that anyone, with a bit of training and practice, can master, why not prove it?
How could we do this? Easily. Early in the NASA program, before any probes had made it to a foreign planet, an astral projectionist (I don't know the correct term.) could have "gone" to Venus, for example, an given a detailed account of what we'd find there. Then, when we send a probe ourselves, we check it. If astral projection is true, bingo: we have the evidence.
Funny thing is, something like this was indeed done, only not with Venus but with Jupiter. Of the claims made, something like 15-20% were true, but obvious from current knowledge (i.e., it's gaseous, there are storms on the surface). A small proportion were unverifiable because either the claim was ambiguous or the data received was ambiguous. The vast majority of the astral projectionist's claims were dead wrong. Proof that it doesn't work? Not really. But it certainly makes it extremely suspect. (You can read more about this in James Randi's Flim-Flam.)