Category: politics

squandered

Today is September 11th. A Tuesday even, just like it was 6 years ago. It’s a day that can hardly go unmarked. Many will talk about what the day means, I’m sure many already have. But others will just remember in silence.

I’m sad today about the events of that awful day. That shocking, appalling, mind-numbingly terrible day. I don’t have the right words to describe the tragedy of that day, the grief of those who lost loved ones, the fear and hardship of those who died, or even of those who survived. I can mostly say that I am sad.

But I’m also sad about what’s happened to the world since then. Because even more people have suffered. More have died tragic and violent deaths. The loss continues.

In the hours and days after the news of the September 11th attacks broke, the world was a changed place. There was an outpouring of solidarity from people the world over. I was moved by the images of people in many countries displaying US flags, holding vigils, displaying signs with words of sympathy. “We are all Americans, today.” As an American by birth, I was humbled. I am humbled. There was the sense that many individuals who were critical of the US, hostile towards the US, even, overlooked our differences, and joined together in grief. More than anything, I felt the shared humanity.

Naive as it sounds, I thought that maybe that moment of shared humanity could lead towards peace. So much hostility was dropped in the face of such sadness, in the face of the horror and outrage, that I imagined the avenues of diplomacy opened.

Of course, I was wrong.

Instead, the attacks of September 11th were used by the US government as a license to wage war. The tragedy and brutality of that day have been used as a political tool, to spread fear and hatred. The result has been more tragedy and brutality. More fear and hatred.

So now my grief for the victims of September 11th is compounded. I grieve for victims in Afghanistan. I grieve for victims in Iraq. I grieve for the soldiers, American and other nationalities, who have lost their lives. I grieve for the pain and physical hardship, for the psychological traumas, that all of these people have gone through. That they continue to go through. I feel for all of their families. I feel for the refugees. I feel for the prisoners. And for the many, many others whose lives are impacted. And I am sick with worry that violence will continue to escalate. The murmurings of a war with Iran quite frankly scare the crap out of me.

There is too much to fear, too much to grieve for.

And on top of it all, I still carry grief for that lost opportunity to wage peace.

some of my best friends are Republican

It’s true, you know. Even though I myself am a granola-eating, tree-hugging bleeding-heart liberal.

I like to say this is line as a bit of joke. Some of my best friends are Republican.

It reminds me that much as I try to fight bigotry, I still am susceptible myself. I have my own prejudices. Perhaps I nurture my bigotry against conservatives. But there are other subtle prejudices are more disturbing when I become aware of them, as they are bigotries that I actively fight. Religious intolerance. Racism. Classism. Even sexism. It’s good to remind myself that I am still a work in progress.

I also like to say it because it’s true. Some of my best friends are Republican. And I’m actually proud of this. Much as I disagree with their political views, these friendships are important to me. Both because I care about the individuals, and because I think it is productive to find the middle ground. And while the ground I’d like to reach eventually is far left of the middle, I can’t imagine us jumping right over as a society. I think we’ll get there by persistence and by hard work in lots of arenas. I think that part of the process is to keep the discourse productive, as it makes it easier for us to recognize the common ground.

Extremists on both ends of the spectrum are guilty of distorting the discourse. There is a tendency to over-generalize, throw blame, call names. To call all those on the other side of the fence stupid. Insane. Barbaric. Evil, even. Hell, I know I’m guilty of mucking things up when I get angry. (And there is a lot that I’m angry about.)

One of my closest friends is a conservative Republican. We’ve now been friends for about 20 years, startling as that seems to me. Even early in our friendship, back in high school before either of us was particularly interested in politics, we realized that we landed squarely on opposite sides of the political spectrum. The only times we fought were about political subjects. Education. Welfare. Taxes. Class. The death penalty. So-called family values. We discovered that political topics had to stay off limits if we were going to stay friends.

Over the years, we’ve talked about many things that brush up against the more directly political topics. Likewise with other friends and family members who lean far rightward into the spectrum.

I’ve learned that a person who can hold opposite political views, who would vote so differently from me, can also have many qualities that I value and respect. I’ve noted a high level tolerance and acceptance on a personal level, loyalty, kindness, and a complete lack of malice, even while supporting policies that I consider inhumane.

Being close friends with people with quite different political views has helped me to learn tolerance and a better understanding of those viewpoints. I’ve come to believe that our core values are not always so different, but that sometimes we differ in how we define them. For example, family is important to me. But my definition of family is perhaps only broader and more flexible than the traditional middle class American one.

And perhaps my friendship has also broadened the perspectives of my more conservative friends, and nourished their own tolerance. I know that at the very least they know that it is possible to sit down at the dinner table, share a laugh, and have a friendly conversation with someone whose political views are as unabashedly liberal commie pinko as mine.

Al Gore rocks.

Al Gore made a guest appearance on the Daily Show this week to talk about his book, The Assault on Reason. (I didn’t get to see it when it was on TV, as we suffer from a cable deficiency, and don’t get Comedy Central.) You can see a pretty complete transcript of the interview here, but the clip is worth watching:

Gore has some interesting things to say about the media, and also about The Daily Show¹:

Actually, if you want to get through a lot the nonsense, and get to the heart of the most important news of the day is, this is one of the places to go to get the straight story. And it’s ironic.

He also goes on to make an analogy to court jesters of the Middle Ages, who were in a unique position to criticize the court through jokes. And he uses the term highfalutin, which I just don’t get to hear often enough.²

One point that comes up (by both Gore and Stewart, who also rocks) is that the internet is a means by which the money-driven zombie-producing powers of TV news can be counteracted. Gore says of the internet:

It is the single greatest source of hope that we will be able to fix what ails the conversation of democracy.³

So, here’s to the conversation.

And here’s to Al. (Ah, how different the world might have been…)⁴

———————–

¹ Please note that Jon Stewart did not hound Gore with questions about the horserace.

² And by the way, the spelling of this etymologically mysterious word seems to be not terribly conventionalized. We also get high-fallutin’, hifalutin and high faluting, to name some of the possibilities.

³ Please also note that the first 3 comments on this YouTube post are apparently written by 12-year-olds. Which demonstrates some of the flaws of the internet as a medium for serious discourse.

⁴ I like to use footnotes in my posts. Footnotes are cool.

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finding my voice

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post in response to my viewing of the movie Shut Up and Sing, the documentary about the Dixie Chicks, and the fallout that came after their lead singer made an anti-war comment during a concert in March of 2003.

In that post, I made this comment:

Those were darker times, all too recently, when public expression of dissent was equated with treason. It was chilling to see how violently people reacted to a few fairly innocuous words. It was a time when many people, including me, were uncomfortable about speaking out in public about political issues, especially criticism of the president and objection to the war.

I’ve been wanting to write more about that, because as time passes, my memory clouds. Recently, the tides of public opinion have turned and the political climate is different. It almost seems ridiculous for me to say that I had been uncomfortable expressing dissent publicly. I mean, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad, right?

Well, it was and it wasn’t. And to some extent, this was geographically based. In Boston, talking to my like-minded friends, I could express my objections to the war, my disgust with the administration, without fear. My friends and I could express our dissent in public, though I feel like we did so in fairly hushed voices when out in public.

But closer to home, only 50 miles away towards more rural Massachusetts, it was a different story. In my town, virtually every house had their American flag flying. Virtually every car had a flag decal or a bumper sticker saying something like “these colors don’t run.” Many people went the step of flying actual flags from their cars, sometimes absurdly large ones. And while the symbolism may not have been the same for every person that displayed the Stars and Stripes, for most, for me, the flag was a symbol of not only “Patriotism,” but support of the President, support of the war. It was about self-righteousness. Anger. The desire for revenge over the events of September 11th. When I went grocery shopping in a neighboring town, I was startled to see that some particularly zealous flag-waver had gone the extra step of painting their pick-up truck with clumsily executed images of the twin towers, flags, and the words “Septemeber 11th” and “never forget, never forgive.”

Most Americans at that time actually believed that the war in Iraq was a response to the events of September 11th. That Iraq had been directly responsible for those attacks. And many felt, along with the president, that those who objected to the war were supporting terrorists. “If you’re not with us, you’re against us.”

In the weeks leading up to the start of the war in Iraq, many around the country dissented. Voiced loud (and not so loud) objections. There were TV interviews, news stories. Dissenting bumper stickers a signs. Anti-war buttons and t-shirts. (But these were also times when you heard of people getting kicked out malls for wearing such things.)

There were also protests. I proudly attended a peace march in Boston in March 2003:

March 29, 2003
In Boston, Massachusetts 50,000 people attended the largest rally in the city since the end of the Vietnam War. Thousands of people blocked Boylston Street in a die-in along the Boston Common. A handful of arrests were made.

While the Wikipedia entry talks about the large size of this protest, it actually felt surpisingly small to me. But I was still buoyed by the group voicing of dissent.

Then, just a few days later, I got an email from a friend from a nearby town. While we hadn’t really talked about politics, I knew we had differing opinions. That we’d voted differently in the last election, if indeed she voted at all. I knew she was one who proudly displayed a flag on her car. But I hadn’t realized how differently we felt. This is what I got from her by email, written by someone out there in cyberspace and apparently making the rounds by email and on blogs:

With all of this talk of war, many of us encounter “Peace Activists” who try and convince us that we must refrain from retaliating against the ones who terrorized us all on September 11, 2001, and those who support terror. These activists may be alone or in a gathering…..most of us don’t know how to react to them. When you come upon one of these people, or one of their rallies, here are the proper rules of etiquette:

1. Listen politely while this person explains their views. Strike up a conversation if necessary and look very interested in their ideas. They will tell you how revenge is immoral, and that by attacking the people who did this to us, we will only bring on more violence. They will probably use many arguments, ranging from political to religious to humanitarian.
2. In the middle of their remarks, without any warning, punch them in the nose, hard.
3. When the person gets up off of the ground, they will be very angry and they may try to hit you, so be careful.
4. Very quickly and calmly remind the person that violence only brings about more violence and remind them of their stand on this matter. Tell them if they are really committed to a nonviolent approach to undeserved attacks, they will turn the other cheek and negotiate a solution. Tell them they must lead by example if they really believe what they are saying.
5. Most of them will think for a moment and then agree that you are correct.
6. As soon as they do that, hit them again. Only this time hit them much harder. Square in the nose.
7. Repeat steps 2-5 until the desired results are obtained and the idiot realizes how stupid of an argument he/she is making.

There is no difference in an individual attacking an unsuspecting victim or a group of terrorists attacking a nation of people. It is unacceptable and must be dealt with. Perhaps at a high cost. We owe our military a huge debt for what they are about to do for us and our children.

We must support them and our leaders at times like these. We have no choice.

We either strike back, VERY HARD, or we will keep getting hit in the nose.

Lesson over, class dismissed .

I got this email from my friend on April 2nd. She also sent it to others that we knew in common. I wanted to respond to my friend, tell her the other side of the story. I didn’t really fear that she’d actually hit me in the face. I’m sure she just found the “lesson” funny, and didn’t realize that I was one of those “peace activists,” a humanitarian “idiot.” But the email did effectively knock me over. I never found my voice. I just avoided her for a while, whether consciously or not. Didn’t go back to the activities we shared for a while. I was busy anyhow.

The truth is, I didn’t have the energy to find my voice. To speak out about things I feel so strongly about. Not because I lacked conviction. But because I feared confrontation. Because I feared offending others, even when I felt deeply offended myself. And then I feared being ostracized, and making myself a target for attacks, even if only verbal ones. It sickened me to realize that my friend, and others who received that email, would take my silence as assent, agreement. But every time I tried to compose a response, plan a discussion with my friend, I would find excuses not to.

I’ve been working on speaking out about things that are important to me, writing about issues that I feel strongly about. I struggle with the fear of confrontation. I worry about the risk of offending others. Plus I struggle with the idea that others say things better than I can, so that I should leave the speaking to them. It’s hard for me to speak out so publicly, to open myself up for criticism. But I know that speaking out is an important step. That if we don’t exercise our right to free speech, we may lose it. We all need to add our voices to the discussion, or only the loudest will be heard.

If I want to play my part in making the world a better place, I need to learn to use my voice.

still mad as hell

We watched Shut Up and Sing (2006) a couple of nights ago. It’s the documentary about the Dixie Chicks, and their experiences following the “controversial” comment made by Natalie Maines.

Just in case you don’t know (or remember) the story, the incident in question was during a concert where the Dixie Chicks were preforming in London in 2003. At some point during the show, lead singer Natalie Maines made some comments about her objections to the impending war in Iraq, including a fairly offhand remark about the president:

Just so you know, we’re on the good side with y’all. We do not want this war, this violence, and we’re ashamed that the President of the United States is from Texas

Uproar ensued, fueled by right-wing activists, and involved the banning of Dixie Chicks’ music from radio stations, public denouncements and CD trashings, and even death threats. (Check out the Wikipedia article on the Dixie Chicks for details on the controversy. See also Alice from And She Wrote‘s recent post concerning free speech.)

Those were darker times, all too recently, when public expression of dissent was equated with treason. It was chilling to see how violently people reacted to a few fairly innocuous words. It was a time when many people, including me, were uncomfortable about speaking out in public about political issues, especially criticism of the president and objection to the war.

The band instantly earned my respect. I hadn’t known their music before, not being a fan of country music, and still wasn’t interested in hearing their songs. But soon after news of the comment and the backlash reached us, I remember going to a local record store and buying their CD, and a refrigerator magnet that said “he’s not my president.”

The movie “Shut Up and Sing” shows how these events affected the lives and careers of the three women of the band, and how they bravely stood up for free speech. I love it that their song “Not Ready to Make Nice,” from which the title of the movie is taken, expresses continued anger over the events:

I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell…

They’re right to be angry. And we shouldn’t forget what happened. We shouldn’t allow freedom of expression to be trampled.

Anyhow, the movie paints an interesting picture of recent history. It’s well worth watching. Plus it has a really great trailer:

I am…someone I’ve never heard of

John just sent me a link to this quiz:
Which science fiction writer are you?

It was an enjoyable quiz, with a number of questions that made me laugh. But then my answer:

I am:

Hal Clement (Harry C. Stubbs)

A quiet and underrated master of “hard science” fiction who, among other things, foresaw integrated circuits back in the 1940s.

Don’t you hate it when you get results on these things that you find disappointing? I mean, I appreciate the underrated, and also the evidence of great foresight. But why not somebody cool? I mean, John got Ursula LeGuin as a result. That is so cool. It’s the sort of thing that makes me want to go back and change my answers. (Now what does that say about me?)

Okay. Here’s an update. My brother-in-law, who is a dyed-in-the-wool Republican with books on his shelf at home by Evil Bitch from Hell that Anne Coulter and Scary Dork of an Asshole Sean Hannity as well as other “authors,” just took the quiz and got the same frickin’ author as me.

What did I do wrong?

a shallow cut

Last night I called my sister and mother in California. I asked if they’d heard about Hillary Clinton announcing her candidacy. I was a bit giddy yesterday from such historic news. It turns out they hadn’t heard, having been occupied all day with my sister’s baby shower. I talked to my sister first, and among other things we talked about, I told her I was excited that my blog entry about my reactions to the candidacy announcement got quoted. When my mother got on the phone, I again brought up the announcement. And she commented that it was funny to be hearing the news from me, because (and I’m paraphrasing) I don’t pay much attention to political issues.

Huh?

I talk about politics. I think about social issues. I get outraged by injustices. I’ve volunteered, I’ve donated, I’ve protested. Not as much as so many others, maybe. But I feel like, at heart, I am deeply political. Maybe I haven’t talked about these things much with her, at least lately. Maybe I’ve been pretty self-absorbed. My mother’s comment stung, even though she back-pedaled. Even though I know she didn’t mean to suggest I was shallow. I felt deflated, and didn’t even tell her about my excitement in being quoted. Especially since the article that quoted me more-or-less said “even women who usually write about trivial crap felt inspired to write about this news:”

Because while BlogHer’s list of Politics & News blogs by women is 379 strong, in this case I found sudden and serious grassroots engagement everywhere, from mommyblogs to myspace diaries.

It’s true that I don’t tend to write much about political or social issues. I started my blog to write largely for fun. And I realize that, indeed, my topics are largely shallow. I write mostly about stuff. Movies. TV. Funny words. Pants. I’ve had the most fun writing parodies of etiquette and advice columns.

Anyhow, I’m still planning to keep writing about topics that I enjoy writing about. Shallow though some may seem. And some of the topics I write about may have some social relevance. It’s all part of the package that is me.

post postscript: I should add that my mother is an extremely supportive woman, a close friend as well as a much-loved relation, and that the innocuous comment she made was merely the catalyst for my own fit of self-critical introspection. Why are we doomed to hurt the people we love most?

feeling optimistic

You’ve probably heard the news. (I’ve heard it, and I basically live in a cave.) Hillary Clinton is in. As in announcing her candidacy. For president. I have to admit that I’ve had mixed feelings about her. I loved her during Bill Clinton’s administration. I was excited about her commitment to issues such as national healthcare. But then she’s seemed to move more and more into the center since those halcyon days. I was disappointed in her support of the the war in Iraq. I’d come to like her a lot less. And whenever I’ve heard people say that she’d be running for president, I’ve thought, “there’s just no way.” No way she’d run. And no way she could win. But now I’ve read a few things that make me think again. Like this article. And this one, from a couple of years ago. And suddenly, I’m feeling a tingling of optimism. That after these dark politcal years, we’re once again moving forward as a society. Not only can people imagine having a woman as president, they believe it can happen. Soon.