I’m struggling this week with the hectic and frightening mood permeating my country. The dieification of the military, the proliferation of forced patriotism frightens me.
I cannot help but shake my head and wonder what terrible thing lurks around the corner.
I do not believe my government really acts in the best interests of its people, and I do not believe that any of the current conflicts are doing anything to preserve my freedom or protect my rights.
Governments do not give rights, but they sure know how to suppress them.
Yesterday, I fell into an old trap- Reading the comments following a *political post* on social media. As usual, I disagreed with more than half of those who felt they needed to vent their opinion about the topic at hand. I’ve learned to leave these comments alone, not respond, and allow my anger and frustration to gradually dissipate. The next step is learning not to read these comments at all. Baby steps…
The post in question was about artists, and whether or not they should be allowed to share their personal opinions about the issues of the day. The idea was these artists existed to entertain, period. And somehow, that entertainment precluded them from talking about anything at all. “Just sing and act,” many said. “You are here to be a distraction from reality, an escape.”
One comment in particular stood out, and actually caused me to lose sleep last night. This person claimed he had never, not once had a song or film impact his life or teach him anything. I kept hoping that his statements were hyperbole, meant to drive home the uselessness of the artist more than art itself, but he continued to press about the triviality, banality of music and films. Mindless entertainment, pure and simple. He could live without it.
I felt a wave of sadness. How unfortunate for this person, how tragic. Imagine, never having your heart stirred by a song, never having that moment when you knew the singer, the musicians understood you on a level no one else ever had, when you felt that connection to something, someone outside of your small circle. Imagine no film ever impacting you, making you want to do more with your life, be better. Or no work of art ever inspiring you to see the world differently, or bringing you to tears.
I could list moment after moment where art has made my life infinitely better, where someones words or music helped me understand the world better. So many films and stories have exposed me to ideas, ways of living and thinking that otherwise would remain beyond my ability to comprehend.
I was up last night trying to construct how different my life would be without a passion for art. I didn’t like how that world felt. It was an empty place, one with less love, compassion, understanding.
I don’t want to think about that sort of world anymore. I think I’ll go listen to some music, and later, read a book.
What an insane week. The United States Supreme court has been handing down controversial rulings left and right all week. Today was the big one for many. In an expected 5-4 majority decision (no matter the ruling, most of us anticipated this sort of split), the court decided that no state can deny the right of same sex couples to marry.
I’m pretty giddy about the whole thing.
I’ve rather enjoyed watching those dismayed, upset, angered by the decision offer up scathing rebuttals, filled with superb hyperbole. But l should be fair. Not everyone who “lost” has reacted so irascibly. Some have been thoughtful, and for the most part, those I interact with have been kind and civil.
I do wonder about some of the bile, and whether it would be different if rather than a court ruling, a vote had ushered in marriage equality? Perhaps it would be similar, just pointed in a different direction.
On a related topic, I’ve been intrigued by a growing movement (funny enough, louder as marriage equality has gained momentum and success), to remove the State (government in general) from the marriage game altogether. I’d love to hear more about this, how it would work in regards to estates, heath and wellness, issues with children, that sort of thing. Any insight would be appreciated.
Regardless, enjoy your weekend. I’m finding joy in watching all these couples who thought they’d never gain legal status embrace and cry, love each other. Love is always a good thing.
No one likes to be told what to do.
All right, there may be a few who sort of like it and some who can’t function without it, but generally speaking, the vast majority of us like to make our own choices.
Of all the organizations that are involved in telling others what to do, the government tops the list of most disliked. From the bloated entity that is the Federal Government of the United States, down to the local city government in the corner of Utah, they are all in the business of constantly telling citizens what they can and cannot do. The hot news topic recently has to do with governments having their pesky fingers in everybody’s pie, first telling us who we have to sell products to, then telling us it’s alright to not if that person’s lifestyle offends, then changing their minds again.
“It’s about coercion.” Really good point. The argument shouldn’t be about the who, but the what. The conversation isn’t really about liking or disliking gay people at all, but government intrusion. This argument would be much more persuasive if its champions were only as vocal about every other example of governmental coercion, constitutionally justified or not.
“The government shouldn’t tell businesses who they have to serve, period.” I get it, I really do. I even agree with it on some level. I also think that owning and operating a certain type of business is a choice, and that with that choice come obligations. One of them is allowing people who want to make reasonable use of your services to do so. Everyone has a story about a time they had to do something uncomfortable on the job. My library experience was full of such events- Providing information and library services to patrons that I found offensive, dangerous, misguided. Like most of you, I did my job.
Fulfilling my duty as a librarian did not mean I suddenly condoned certain behavior or supported certain political or religious positions. My job was to provide access to information. I did. End of story.
I recently saw a social media post that posited, “But what about the Jewish baker who is asked to make a cake for a Nazi wedding?”
We can make lists for days of the hypothetical things (business owners and employees) bakers, florists, wedding bands, doctors, civil servants, plumbers, police, grocers, shoe sellers might have to encounter that attack their deeply held religious convictions. Which religion? Which particular beliefs or obligations? Why do religious convictions get to be above reproach?
Where does our obligation to be decent human beings come into play?
New Years Eve has come and gone, and many of us have made our resolutions. Some of us have already given up on a few. Some, we are fighting hard to accomplish.
When I stood beside Sheryl, counting down the seconds to the beginning of 2015, I made up my mind to be less critical, more loving, open to experiences, and ready to accept the changes the new year would offer. Along with many others, I hoped the arrival of a new year might bring some brighter times for humanity as a whole, less war, more peace and understanding, but the horrible things in the world rarely concern themselves with dates on a calendar or the expectations and wishes of people.
Wars and conflict continue, along with their accompanying rhetoric.
The recent atrocities in France have deeply affected me. I was stunned to silence for most of the day, as reports came in, along with the eye witness video of two men gunning down another man, executing him while he lay on the street. Luckily, we have not been tortured with video from inside of Charlie Hebdo.
We have (unfortunately) been inundated with pundits and thinkers from all sorts of ideological perspectives, readily offering us their insights as to why events took place, each one instantly discrediting the opinions and facts of the others. Page after page of articles telling us all what the attacks were “really about,” and how dare any of us think otherwise.
In the end, I’ve determined that I really don’t care. It’s all finger pointing at shadows, empty and hollow words that offer no real understanding. Blame the cartoonists for being insensitive to the beliefs of others. Blame the intolerance of extreme religious zealots who see only their own righteousness while condemning the heathens to violent deaths. Blame the Western World for creating these militants through never ending war and persecution, or blame the Muslim world for not doing enough to denounce and combat the violent elements of their religion. Blame whomever or whatever justifies and reinforces whatever point of view that speaks to you most. It’s all equally right and equally wrong, because there is no truth here, only excuses and mangled up layers of perception. We never really need valid reasons. People have been killing each other over these sorts of things long before any of the current organizations and oppressive apparatuses ever existed. We just get new names and labels for these things from time to time.
When I think about it, I come up with very few good reasons for killing another person. Revenge, spite, anger, outrage, God, nationalism, they don’t make the list.
Every human being experiences some sort of oppression in their lifetime. Some experience a great deal more. Not every one who is victimized or brutalized takes up a gun. What makes some become brutal killers, devoid of any compassion or understanding, while others choose love and forgiveness?
No choice exists in a void. Context matters. Indoctrination, propaganda- We are all subject to them on some level. What we find comfortable, what resonates, we accept. Sometimes that acceptance takes us down dangerous paths, but we should never ignore our own personal responsibility. We do not always have a say in what happens to us, but we always have a choice in how we respond, and in the end, the kind of people we want to be.
Less critical. More loving. More open to the change in the world. This is where I’m starting.
I forget how wonderful and scary voting feels. Each time I stand in front of that machine, I do the same thing. I take several nervous breaths. I read the instructions three times. I skip the straight party vote (anyone who votes straight party deserves a smack). I vote and vote and vote until the pages are done. I double check my ballot before printing. As the ballot is printing, I get more nervous. Did I vote for the right people? Did I vote my conscience? Did I vote against that judge I thought did a stinky job? Am I being watched? Whew, it’s over. I feel amazing.