If This Counts as Anti-Religious, I Must Be The Anti-Christ

So, it's been nearly a month since I first heard episode 184 of Real Time with Bill Maher. And let me tell you, this was the episode that made me think, "Maybe I shouldn't be listening to Bill Maher at work". Because I was spitting mad. You wanna know how mad I was? Well, I'll let Madeline Kahn take it away:

That reminds me: I should probably buy Clue at some point.

So, what got me so worked up? Bill Maher's discussion of anti-religious sentiment in the "Liberal Media" with S.E. Cupp. Because nothing makes me more pissed off than the assertion that any media is anti-religion. Because, as an atheist, I can point out to you pretty damn quickly how not anti-religious media, in general, really is. Bill Maher is a somewhat less than stunning example of actual anti-religious sentiment in today's media, less than stunning both due to his anti-religion as well as the application of his anti-religion in his anti-religious arguments. So, first part of the conversation that had me responding to Cupp, out loud, in a cubicle, at my Very Religious place of work. So, hold onto your hats, folks, because this is going to be a doozy of a long post. Aaaaaaaand, start:

BILL MAHER: Let me give you your examples. This is the - I'm reading the - this is the end of your "A Decade of Lowlights From the Liberal Media".

S.E. CUPP: Yeah.

MAHER: These are your first three examples: Here's Joy Behar, she's tal - and this is one of your examples - she's talking about -

[Talking Over Each Other]

CUPP: And she's a friend.

MAHER: evolution. She said -

[Talking Over Each Other Again]

CUPP: I do her show.

MAHER: "You have to teach both. Darwinism is not some kind of religious fervor. Teach both." So she's for teaching both Darw-

CUPP: No. What she said was that teaching Creationism to kids should be akin to child abuse.

MAHER: No. She said you have to teach both.

CUPP: She said that facetiously.

MAHER: Well, that's interest that you can divine that.

CUPP: She said on The View - she said on The View that teaching Creationism should be -

[Talking Over Each Other AGAIN]

MAHER: Darw-

CUPP: child abuse.

MAHER: I have it - yes she did. She said, "Darwinism is not some kind of religious fervor thing. You want your children to go into the world being ignorant? That's child abuse". Yeah, it is.

CUPP: I-I-I don't think that's true. I think and-and-and-

[You Know The Drill, Right?]

MAHER: That's not an anti-religious statement.

CUPP: the majority of the people who teach their kids Creationism because it's a nice Christian allegory I don't think are guilty of child abuse.

I'm going to stop here, for a second. Because Cupp's argument here is bullshit, but what truly makes it crap is that last line: "the majority of people who teach their kids Creationism because it's a nice Christian allegory". She flips the argument on its head. She changes what Creationism is. Creationism, as something that is taught in schools, is not an allegory. It is being taught as fact, or at the very least a theory at least on par with Darwinism. Allegories are what Aesop used. Allegories are fictional stories we can cull wisdom or understanding from. I don't have a problem with allegories. I love allegories. I have a problem with people insisting their religious doctrine be taught in public schools.

Here's my problem with Creationism. It isn't that some people believe it, though I do weep for the state of the world when people can turn that much of a blind eye to scientific fact. It is that a segment of the population wants to insist that their version of the world be codified as scientific truth. It is that a bunch of powerful, bullying people want to push their vision of the world as it was formed onto every child in their community.

If a parent wants their child to believe that the world was created in seven days, that human beings have always been as we are now, and that the earth is significantly younger than any scientific test has led us to believe, they are welcome to teach their child that. Within the comfort of their own home. Or in their church. Or both. But they do not have the right to have that belief imparted within the confines of a public school in the guise of science. That isn't anti-religion. It is pro-education. It is pro-understanding. It is pro- "You can teach your child whatever the fuck you want outside these walls". For S.E. Cupp (who I keep wanting to call "C.E. Cupp", for some reason) to call Joy Behar's remarks anti-religion is either a fundamental misunderstanding of religion (in which case, I think she wasted a lot of money on her Masters in religious studies), or purposefully misconstruing "religion" with "Christian Fundamentalism". And that's because there are plenty of Christians who do offer up Genesis as an allegory, but don't believe in Creationism and do believe in the Theory of Evolution. Some of those Christians, I have even met.

And here's how not anti-religious the media is: whether or not she was being facetious, Joy Behar said "they" should teach both - and I'm assuming the "they" are the schools. No. The schools, and the teachers who have gone to institutions of higher learning in order to teach science at public schools, should teach the theory of evolution. Stop. They should explain what "theory" means in scientific terms. And if parents want their children to hold a differing view, they can either pull their children from those classes when evolution is being taught and teach them whichever theory of life on earth floats their boat, or they can allow their children to be taught evolutionary theory and then also teach them whichever theory of life on earth floats their boat. But that is the parents' responsibility. And, frankly, I find it quite ludicrous that after all the screaming the Right does about parental responsibilities, they want to foist this one off onto public institutions.

And, onward:

MAHER: Okay, the second one you quoted is John Meacham, the editor of the -

CUPP: Newsweek.

MAHER: Newsweek. We have - he's a religious guy.

CUPP: Yes, he is.

MAHER: He doesn't like -

CUPP: The cover of Newsweek declared the death of Christianity - on Easter [laughs disbelievingly].

MAHER: Are you kidding me.

CUPP: It's preposterous.

MAHER: Jesus or Mary is on the cover of Newsweek or Time, like, every other week [TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: I subscribe to Newsweek. This is pretty accurate.]. If Jesus had an office on Sunset Boulevard and you walked down the corridor, he'd have his magazine covers on every wall!

...

CUPP: But Bill - one of those - one of those - one of those stories -

MAHER [Talking Over Her]: You're crazy.

CUPP: was saying that you can actually read - if you read the Bible correctly - it actually supports gay marriage. I mean, it's one thing to show these covers, but come on!

MAHER: Well that's - you're picking out one little raisin in a giant piece of bread, there, lady.

Stopping again, because as much as I now love the phrase "picking out one little raisin in a giant piece of bread", this here highlights Bill Maher's mediocrity in actually winning arguments.

First, declaring the death of Christianity isn't anti-religion. At most, it can be anti-Christian, and only the most arrogant fuck would dare insinuate Christianity=Religion. Secondly, it isn't anti-religious to believe that a religious text can be read in a different way than the dominant view. That'd be like someone being anti-Shakespeare because they wrote an analysis alleging Antonio is gay in The Merchant of Venice. It is profoundly pro-Christianity to look to the Bible for guidance, and find helpful answers within. Lisa Miller's Newsweek article, the one Cupp refers to, makes several salient points, most notably:

Biblical literalists will disagree, but the Bible is a living document, powerful for more than 2,000 years because its truths speak to us even as we change through history. In that light, Scripture gives us no good reason why gays and lesbians should not be (civilly and religiously) married—and a number of excellent reasons why they should.

In other words, Newsweek and Lisa Miller aren't anti-religion. They're just arguing against a certain tenet of certain people's religion. Miller's argument is very much rooted in her reading of religion itself (and she's not alone). So, what Cupp is arguing isn't that the media is anti-religion; just that it is anti-the-Right's-religion-of-choice. Because it isn't even anti-Christian. It may argue against the tenets of Fundamentalist Christian belief. But that isn't the long and short of religion.

Once more, into the breach:

[BREAK in the RELIGIOUS TALK]

MAHER: Let me get back to the premise that the liberals and the media are anti-religion. The pre - the things I talk about, are questioning, "Is faith good? Or that prayer doesn't work. That's the things I say. It's just me and a couple of cartoons -

CUPP [Interrupting]: No! You're so wrong!

MAHER: Who are saying that.

CUPP: No!

MAHER: Tell me one other person in the media -

[Talking Over Each Other]

CUPP: I'll tell you! I will go down.

MAHER: who ever questioned whether faith was good or prayer worked. Brian Williams?

CUPP: No.

MAHER: Keith Olbermann?

CUPP: I will go - I will go -

MAHER: Katie Couric?! None of them.

CUPP: Ohmygod! I can give you those examples right now!

MAHER: Tell me -

CUPP: Chris Matthews - Chris Matthews said -

MAHER: Chris Matthews is a devout Catholic!

CUPP: Chris Matthews said that Sarah Palin and Michael Steele praying on big decisions isn't normal. Rachel Maddow said that the National Day of Prayer infringes on her right to religious freedom.

MAHER: It does.

CUPP: Keith Olbermann called pro-lifers religious jihadists. I could go on.

MAHER: That's not - they're not questioning the essence of religion. This is a country that worships religion.

CUPP: Of course they are, Bill. Of course they are.

And there endeth the religion discussion.

And here is where Cupp is oh so very wrong. Well, maybe not about Chris Matthews; but even I, disliker in the extreme of Chris Matthews, is going to assume that what Cupp said and what Matthews stated probably doesn't meet up eye to eye. And I'm not even going to try to argue that Keith Olbermann never compared pro-lifers to jihadists, because I'm pretty sure he did. But there is a difference in criticizing the religious and how they practice their religion - like, by harassing pregnant women seeking abortions and celebrating the deaths of abortion providers or by claiming God has provided you with the answer - and being anti-religion. To equate the two is to wrap the religious in the protection of religion, because criticizing them and possibly how they demonstrate their religiosity is to suddenly become anti all religions, everywhere. And that is a ridiculous standard.

As for Rachel Maddow's position, I am pro-religion, including but not limited to gospel music, religious architecture, and church signs that say things like, "Now Open Between Easter and Christmas", "Our Sundays Are Better than Baskin Robbins", and "A Bible in the Hand is Worth Two on the Shelf". I'm a fan of the screed put by the philosopher Lennon, that being "Whatever gets you through the night, 'salright, 'salright". Unless what gets you through the night is telling me how to get through my night, because I've been getting through my night for 24 straight years fine and dandy. But the National Day of Prayer is something that makes me very uncomfortable, because it does infringe on my right to religious freedom. It is a day encouraging people to pray, and that doesn't just alienate me as an individual; it makes those with my beliefs alien. It makes us other. And for a people who are already pretty thoroughly othered, it is a bit of a blow to have an entire day dedicated to something that does that by my government. The government I voted for. And it comes down to one truth:

The absence of the mention of God is not the same as denying the existence of God. It merely gives those of us who do not believe a bit of breathing room.

Cupp, as an atheist, is choosing to defend the monolith of Christianity, and the section of Christianity that is Evangelical at that, for whatever the reason. But while the proof she pulls out may indicate that there are those on the left who disagree strongly with Evangelicalism, that there are those on the left who are anti-Evangelical, she has no evidence of anti-religious sentiment on the part of the Left or the media - again, aside from Bill Maher. Ironically, due to her constant defense of Christianity's privileged position in media matters, she herself is anti-religious, because she is anti-religious plurality. She is only pro-Evangelicalism. Hopefully, the next lefty she tussles with will point that out to her, and will point out that other sects of Christianity also exist. Because Cupp doesn't seem to recognize that fact.

Defining An Action of Evil

Four days ago, my friend linked an article, with the comment, "David Brooks at his best". It was David Brooks' column The Rush to Therapy, part of which said,

A shroud of political correctness settled over the conversation. Hasan was portrayed as a victim of society, a poor soul who was pushed over the edge by prejudice and unhappiness.

There was a national rush to therapy. Hasan was a loner who had trouble finding a wife and socializing with his neighbors.

This response was understandable. It’s important to tamp down vengeful hatreds in moments of passion. But it was also patronizing. Public commentators assumed the air of kindergarten teachers who had to protect their children from thinking certain impermissible and intolerant thoughts. If public commentary wasn’t carefully policed, the assumption seemed to be, then the great mass of unwashed yahoos in Middle America would go off on a racist rampage.

Worse, it absolved Hasan — before the real evidence was in — of his responsibility. He didn’t have the choice to be lonely or unhappy. But he did have a choice over what story to build out of those circumstances. And evidence is now mounting to suggest he chose the extremist War on Islam narrative that so often leads to murderous results.

The conversation in the first few days after the massacre was well intentioned, but it suggested a willful flight from reality. It ignored the fact that the war narrative of the struggle against Islam is the central feature of American foreign policy. It ignored the fact that this narrative can be embraced by a self-radicalizing individual in the U.S. as much as by groups in Tehran, Gaza or Kandahar.

It denied, before the evidence was in, the possibility of evil. It sought to reduce a heinous act to social maladjustment. It wasn’t the reaction of a morally or politically serious nation.

And I was unsettled and mulling over the specific, but unarticulated, contrary notion that David Brooks was, actually, very wrong. Luckily for me, I've got Jonathan Turley on the same page. While on The Rachel Maddow Show on November 12, Turley said this:

There are plenty of people who act out of rage. If you take away a few of the aspects of this case, you would have a typical disgruntled worker shooting. We have, with these shootings all over the country, where people are disturbed, disgruntled, and isolated, and they come in and they shoot people in their work place. Now, some of them are perfectly unhinged and they will latch onto religious views or political views, but what they're really acting out of is mental illness.

That doesn't deny any action of evil. What it does do is say, "Your war narrative may not be the most salient point. It is just the most convenient one, and the one that will let you sleep most soundly tonight." What it does say is, "Evil does not lurk only in the hearts of men we see as not like ourselves. It can be in any one of us, and so none of us are truly safe." What it does say is, "Religious convictions may not be the ignition of this deadly passion. It may just be the vehicle this particular person chose to take".

What bothers me about David Brooks' article is that assertion the politically and morally immature nation is the nation that stops before stomping in like gangbusters and making assertions and assumptions without gathering all of the facts. For my money, it is the nation that has matured in both its political and moral arenas that disallows the presumption of one metanarrative over the perhaps more on point micronarratives.

What also bothers me about Brooks' piece is how these discussions of how the metanarratives impact how violence is dispersed are only prevalent when the provocateur is someone other than a white, Christian man. When the perpetrator is a white, Christian man, the assumption is that this case is an isolated incident that has no greater baring on society. That this person is a sport, that his actions have nothing to do with our own metanarratives. We can still see those acts of violence as actions of evil just fine. And by seeing them as actions of evil, we manage to separate them from our person.

As the Historiann notes,

it’s only the occasional story in the print media or on the radio that will note how very much like other American mass-murderers Hasan truly is: a native-born American man, aged 13-60, who has difficult relationships with peers and co-workers, and especially with women. (Not coincidentally, a lot of these killers are strongly invested in traditional gender hierarchies and see themselves as at odds with modern American women, who think they can make their own decisions about whom they’ll date or spend time with.)

I'm all for examining how systemic beliefs parlay into actions, violent or otherwise. I'm all for examining how those systemic beliefs and images and messages influence how we as a people react to actions, violent or otherwise. I'm a big believer in systemic influences, both positive and negative. And yet, we can't lose sight of the individual either, and how the individual's own maladies (or lack thereof) influence how much that message takes hold, and how it is expelled upon the world.

The thing David Brooks seems to be missing is that the idea we should hold off on saying, "Islamic extremist!" in this case isn't simply (or even) to stop the swells of people in Middle America from going on murderous rampages of their own. It is an effort to better ourselves, to look beyond our minute fairy tale beliefs in good and evil and how that good and evil is displayed, and search for deeper and more concrete answers. It is an effort to elevate ourselves, both as individuals and as a society, beyond the prejudices that say "if someone has a funny name and dark skin and reads out of a different book than mine, that book must be the source of the problem". It is in an effort to become a more politically and morally mature nation, a nation that does not see every act of violence perpetrated by someone in the category of Other as stemming from reasons wholly separate from acts of violence perpetrated by someone not in that category. That we can work to reasonably suss out where the act of violence stems from, understand what could have been possible catalysts, recognize those catalysts, and still understand the actions as being evil and the actor of creating evil. Because an action borne out of social maladjustment can exist within the possibility of evil just as much as an action borne out of religious extremism can. To deny that, to deny the want to assess alternate possibilities under the cry of it being a denial of evil is, I think, in itself an act of an immature nation.

An Atheist Among Us

Okay, it has been around 10 days on no posts and no real explanation other than I couldn't write anything, didn't want to write anything, was perpetually dizzy, and had the house to myself - which never happens. So, I bought a car and watched Made of Honor 3 times. One of those things is a good and the other is a really, really big bad. I'll leave it up to you to decide which is which; but if you fail to discern between the two, there's obviously a problem. I also took a couple of days off from the interweb to do things vitally important, like cut myself off from almost all of my friends and inch a little to the left of the grid. Meaning, I slept a lot. The other thing was that Rebekah suggested an episode of Family Guy for a posting topic, and I had to wait for it to come up on Hulu to really look at it. This is that post.

First things first, though. I'm at best apathetic toward Family Guy, and at worst I really dislike it. At the same time, though, I love Brian and Stewie. I think they are awesome, and if the two of them ever had a television show dedicated solely to them, I would watch every episode with awe. However, the rest of the Griffin clan, along with the rest of the show's characters, are particularly loathsome and I don't really like any of them. When I tell people this, they generally think it is because of one of two reasons: (a) the show has too many pointless segments that lead to no greater understanding of the episode on an individual level or for the show as a whole (a former coworker thought that might be it, which confused me as that never even entered my mind), or (b) it is sexist and racist and a whole lot of other -ists, and as a feminist it would drive me insane. To that I say, "Hey, I watch romantic-comedies and some mainstream television!" Well, I don't really say that, but it would be a good rebuttal. No, the reason I don't like Family Guy is because it contains opposing family dynamics of The Simpsons. Peter doesn't give a damn about any other member of his family, and they don't really seem to give any damns about each other either. If Lois ever left Peter, he probably wouldn't notice until he ran out of socks - or food. Even episodes dedicated to showing how Lois and Peter care about one another (I'm thinking specifically of the one with Jennifer Love Hewitt), what is demonstrated is a weirdly possessive but in no way loving relationship. Contrary to the name, Family Guy mostly centers around a bunch of people who share DNA also living together, but having no common cause or theme or concern for the other members of their household.  Standing in contrast is The Simpsons, which manages to truly be about a cohesive, if dysfunctional, family. And we get plenty of episodes demonstrating that fact (like Bart and Lisa being on different hockey teams *sniffle*). As someone who becomes enamored with television shows precisely because they're about family, biological or otherwise (Gilmore Girls, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Firefly, The West Wing, Sports Night, etc.), Family Guy was never going to make the short list.

That doesn't mean I don't enjoy some individual episodes of Family Guy, and "Not All Dogs Go To Heaven" is one of those. Though, strangely, not for the atheist-Brian moments. The end scene where Stewie deals with the cast of Star Trek: Next Generation is classic, as is when he explains how Picard's choice to embrace the baldness made him a better captain than Kirk. I also almost died at the scene where Peter put on LaVar Burton's visor.

At the same time, there were aspects of the Brian-atheist storyline I truly enjoyed. I loved the town's reaction; I love the Griffins' reaction. Well, 'love' may be the wrong word, but I was particularly gratified by the contrast between Meg's newfound religiosity and Brian's atheism. Meg's religious faith actually imposed upon the Griffin family (even if it was just in the form of a television sermon), but Brian just existing in the same space was what caused the biggest uproar. I also thought it was telling that when Brian was being harassed and assaulted and ostracized for his atheism, Lois responded to it not by wishing others would learn to be tolerant but by hoping "he finds faith of some kind". That same sentiment has been expressed several times to me throughout my life. During a particularly surreal two weeks in 9th grade, when almost everyone I knew stopped talking to me, one of the girls I had previously considered my friend told me that she would be happy to start talking to me again once I found "my path". I was stunned, because I was already on "my path". It was just an entirely different one from her own. I also found it particularly telling that Brian's admission caused not only an uproar but seemed to offend the Griffins, as if Brian had been deceiving them simply by not believing in a god. I also know that feeling well. 

I think that feeling of being deceived is what caused most of the people in my high school to stop talking to me for those two weeks; because I hadn't "come clean" sooner, because their idea of me was built upon a false belief that I was a believer when I wasn't, it seemed to them that I had lied to them. The truth was (and is) somewhat more complicated. In high school, I didn't lie; I just didn't come out and proclaim my atheism, because it honestly has never been a huge part of my own personal identity. In college, I did frequently proclaim my atheism, partially due to the odd reaction that discovery had provoked in high school. Now, though, I'm back to not articulating it, because I work in a very religious office where a majority of my coworkers are practicing Catholics (and conservatives) and because I don't want to be a Brian. It is just easier for me to allow them to believe I'm a Catholic, rather than to deny it or to assert my atheism. And until they ask me outright what I am, I don't really feel like I'm lying; at the same time, I'm sure they would be about as thrilled as the rest of the Griffins were with Brian's pronouncement. I don't want to be pelted with Priuses, and I do have to be able to make my car payments so I'm tacitly accepting that being perceived as religious is sometimes a necessity - kind of like Brian did.

At the same time, I disagree fundamentally with some of Brian's proclaimed reasons for being an atheist, along with his arguments at the end to Meg about why she shouldn't believe in God. I felt Brian hit the nail on the head when he told Meg,

You don't need an outside voice to feel those feelings. They're inside you. What you call God is inside you, all of us.

He lost me when he said:

I just hate to see people hating and killing each other over their own interpretations of what they're not smart enough to understand.

That isn't my atheism. My atheism recognizes that religion is not the reason for violence, but the excuse. My atheism recognizes that the world would still be a place of atrocity and hate and hatred and marginalization even if the thought of a supernatural being had never entered the minds of men. My atheism recognizes that if the reason a person doesn't believe in God is because of the horrors committed in his name, then that same person should also not believe in political parties, in countries, in culture, in race, or in gender. My atheism recognizes that hating and killing isn't a product of religion, but that people who hate and who kill often express that through religion. Human beings are the problem; the institutions we make and the ideologies we follow are flawed because they flow from us, but to become a Bill Maher and declare that the religious are idiots is to miss a huge chunk of the picture. Yes, the guy who truly believes the world was created in six days scares me; but it isn't his belief that scares me. It is what else he comes to understand he can do and should do because of that belief. If a guy (or girl) wants to believe that the world was created in six days and s/he also leaves me the hell alone and accepts that I do not, then I am more than fine with that belief.

Brian is wrong because his argument against God rests firmly on the ills of mankind. It decrees that religion and God is the problem, but that argument can be readily combated by the many times religion and God are part of the solution. For every Pat Robertson, there is a soup kitchen being run by a church. For every incident of violence, there is a commitment to nonviolence. For every cretin who hides behind his or her book while spewing hate, there is another person who uses that same book to promote tolerance, love, and peace. Religion has brought us some incredible things. I happen to be extraordinarily fond of church architecture, and gospel music. But that doesn't mean that there is a God, any more than death and disease and hate is an argument for why there isn't a God.

I'm not an atheist because religion and God are fairy tales; I majored in literature. I know the power of a good story. A fairy tale can still be used to impart some truth; in fact, I am of the belief that stories are one of the best ways to spread truth. Stories are how we frame our world; stories are how I became a politically minded person. Stories are how my personal philosophy was born and how it started to take shape. Belief in God and in a religion and a particular story can be an awesome force for good, just as nonbelief can be channelled into a force of badness.

I'm an atheist; I'm an atheist not because I hate humanity but because I love it. I am an atheist because I believe in people. I am atheist because I am whole without god. I am an atheist because I believe mankind is a powerful force, an inventive force, and I don't believe in granting any credit for humanity's triumphs or shortcomings to a supernatural body. I'm not an atheist out of hate, but out of love. That is what was missing from Brian's atheism.

And yet, I understand his frustration. It is hard to continue to love humanity and to believe in its goodness when you feel demeaned and diminished and bullied, to see some spark of light present in the organizations most directly responsible for that bullying and inhumane treatment. I think Brian's anger stems from a real place of marginalization, and his assertion that being an atheist is smarter than being a believer comes from that same place. In a way, "Not All Dogs Go To Heaven" demonstrates a coping device I see a lot; it is the "well, I may not be cool but at least I'm not dumb enough to want to be" syndrome. But while I understand it, that doesn't mean I endorse it. It could hardly be a Family Guy episode if it wasn't lampooning everything in sight, but I can't help but feel as if Meg's reason for finding religion is a great deal more sympathetic than Brian's reason for rejecting it. After all, I continue to be a proponent for that old adage:

Striving For The Cool Kid Table

"Only Democrats, it seems, reward their most loyal supporters - feminists, gays, liberals, opponents of the war, members of the reality-based community - by elbowing them aside to embrace their opponents instead."

- Katha Pollitt

President-Elect Obama's choice of Rick Warren to give the inaugural invocation is one that stumps me; it puzzles me; and it angers and annoys me. I would like to believe that Obama was trying to get Rick Warren in deep trouble with his evangelical colleagues - which it has - or that he did so in order to say that he is a "fierce advocate for gay and lesbian Americans" with a modicum of cover, or that he hopes to trade this symbolic gesture for a very real concession on gay rights issues like a reversal of the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy as Steven Waldman of Beliefnet (last Thursday's Talk of the Nation guest) suggests. 

But I'm in the pack of the "some people" Neal Conan describes when he says, "Some people see it as a continuation. President Bush at his inauguration had some speakers, some evangelical speakers from the far right". Waldman responded,

"That's what makes this such a bold move by Obama. Bush had Franklin Graham, as conservative evangelical, and the parallel thing for Obama to do, I guess, would have been to have a liberal preacher; and instead he has another conservative evangelical. So he's making a very different statement. Bush had picked someone who agrees with him. Obama is picking someone who disagrees with him on a lot of things. It obviously fits his theme of... ...working across party lines and with people you disagree with to achieve common goals. And I think it is an effort to depoliticize prayer, almost a spiritual bipartisanship."

First, I suppose it is a bold move by Obama; he won promising change and a departure from Bush - and instead he's sticking to the same path of highlighting evangelical preachers who preach intolerance and hate. That's fairly bold, although not the bold and fresh action I was looking for when I voted for the man. But perhaps my biggest problem with Waldman's take on this is that picking Warren is not depoliticizing prayer. Yes, this is a man who has criticized other evangelical pastors of being too political. But he is also a man who joined in the fight to pass Prop. 8 in California and who reiterated untruths like the idea that if Prop. 8 failed, preachers could be charged with hate crimes. That is a political stance, and it isn't one far enough in the past that picking Warren to speak as a definitive speaker comes across as depoliticizing spirituality. You know what could have done that? Picking a preacher who wasn't involved in politics for a while. 

Mostly though, I feel as if Keith Olbermann has got my mood right:

"The idea of compromise, though, from the people who got Obama elected; for eight years under the current president, compromise has meant, in essence, everybody who is not on the far right needs to concede something to the far right and then they'll call it a compromise. So now the first compromise for president-elect Obama, and at least in this case, it is everybody who is not on the far right still needs to concede something to the far right and that's compromise. Setting aside the issue here, just focusing on the politics of this occasion, why shouldn't the left and much of the center be upset about this?"

This idea is echoed by Mike from Salem, Oregon, calling into Talk of the Nation on the 18th, when he said,

"I think I understand why Mr. Obama is doing this; he wants people to reconcile and reach toward the middle, and that's fine. But so far with his appointments, he's appointing people and he's asking the Left or the progressives to reach to the right and I'm looking for an appointment or some statement or something that'll ask the right to reach toward the middle - toward the left. And this certainly doesn't do that."

It certainly doesn't. I'm actually fairly happy with Obama's appointments so far. I know that there has been some contention about his appointing many Clintonites to posts instead of innovative and really progressive newcomers as both a way to infuse new ideas into the White House and to revolutionize Washington DC politics; but I feel like if you've got good, experienced Dems who can help you avoid the pitfalls they themselves stumbled over and into then that is who you appoint. I also understand that going too far to the left has been a problem for Democrats in the past and helped Dems lose seats in the Congress to Newt Gingrich's Republican Revolution in 1996, and that one could say going too far to the Right helped cost Bush and the Republicans as well - though I would chalk some of that up to out and out stupidity. I understand the need for incremental movement in many areas, saving the seismic shifts for rare issues of importance; incremental movement is one of the reasons I like the electoral college. I even think that Keith Olbermann is not describing the true political climate but the overall feeling liberals have been experiencing for the past eight years - and I would say he would concede that as well. But it is the second of Mike from Salem Oregon's point that really gets me:

Mike from Salem, Oregon: If he's looking for reconciliation in more of a progressive approach toward religion, there are much better ministers and religious people who could be giving this invocation other than Rick Warren.

Neal Conan: But not those who invited him to speak at his very politically powerful church in California.

Mike from Salem, Oregon: That may be the case, but Obama is a very intelligent man... ... the presiding bishop if the Episcopal Church, Katherine Jefferts Schori, she's very inclusive; and that's what we're looking for here, I think, is inclusiveness.

For too long a time now, I've felt like the Democratic Party was that pathetic not-cool kid in high school desperate to sit at the cool kids' table - the one who would abandon his long-time friends on a moment's notice after receiving a scrap of good will from one of the popular students, the kid who would slink back to his table and to his deserted friends after the popular kids tripped him down a flight of stairs. The Evangelicals are not going to like the Democrats; and inviting someone like Rick Warren, a man who has compared homosexuals to perpetrators of incest and pedophiles, a man whose church perpetuates the idea that a woman should be subject to her husband instead of equal to him, a man who believes that dinosaurs and humans coexisted, to speak at Obama's inauguration is going to do nothing to change that. What it does do is spit in the face of those who voted for Obama - the gays, the women, those who respect scientific thought, etc.

Rick Warren may not be the worst evangelical; Warren has, as Steven Waldman writes in his defense of the man, reverse-tithed 90% of his income, living off of 10%. He cares about fighting poverty, and AIDs, and he is adamantly against torture. And I can see emphasizing that and reaching out to him through the White House on those issues; I can see meeting with him and working with him on issues of shared concern. I even think Rick Warren could do some good in those areas amongst his conservative crew. But just because the man isn't as far to the right on every issue as Pat Robertson or as odious as Rush Limbaugh does not mean inviting him to speak on a day that celebrates the signing in of a new President for all Americans since Rick Warren doesn't represent all Americans and is decidedly and vocally opposed to many of those Americans who helped carry Obama to victory in the first place. Compromise of this sort seems to be a compromise of principles instead of representing a rise above the political fray or politics as usual. Because unfortunately, the swill Warren has been spewing is politics as usual.

Matt Damon Is My New(est) Love

I've always enjoyed Matt Damon. I won't go see movies just for him (unlike, say, Shia LaBeouf), but I think he is an intensely charismatic and talented actor who I genuinely respect, craft-wise. Now, I think I've got a full blown crush on him due to this little video clip:

My favorite line of the thing may be:

"I need to know if she things that dinosaurs were here four thousand years ago. That's an important -I want to know that. I really do. Because she's gonna have the nuclear codes."

Let me make it clear that I give McCain a good chance of living through his first and possibly even his second term if he is indeed elected president. After all, his mom's still bopping around, and she seems not only adorable but fully mentally and physically capable. But that doesn't change the fact that his death -any president's death- is a distinct possibility, and Matt Damon is right to bring up the fact that maybe we don't want someone in the White House who believes not only in creationism but also thinks that the Iraq War is a holy war; I mean, that's what we have in office now. And we can see where that's gotten us.

Carlin in Hell?

I watch stuff like that and just hope beyond hope that there is a god, and that he is a George Carlin fan. I think it would be a marvelous turn around.