culture

Dis Appearance

“I just don’t think she has a presidential look and you need a presidential look.”

 
One way or (and) another, Donald Trump dissed Hillary Clinton’s appearance. Of course he’s not the first or last to dis HRC’s appearance, but he used it as a disqualifier for the presidency of the United States.

Whether he was being sexist (he was), or just a jerk (he was), we often talk about looking presidential, as opposed to a presidential look. “Looking presidential” implies that a person exhibits certain qualities with a demeanor of distinction: authoritative (not authoritarian); intelligent (not ignorant); well informed (by reputable resources and critical thinking); diplomatic (not wheeling and dealing); cordial; articulate…

Other qualities such as charisma may be highly regarded, but ultimately seriousness is preferable for a job that demands gravitas and clear thinking. Strength is another quality that is difficult to define, but purposeful beyond self would be respected. Oh, and then there’s respectable…. I guess there are varying definitions of looking respectable, but presenting (not exclaiming) oneself as decent, reasonable, of substance…these seem to comprise an expression of respectability.

It’s amazing how much we disregard, disqualify, disrespect, distrust, dishonor, and even just dis people based on appearance. We assume a tremendous amount based on appearance. Even those who prefer to minimize an appearance of effort in their appearance, are conveying something through their appearance, namely: I’m not shallow; I’m interested in more than my appearance. Likewise, we often assume that those who have sartorial interests or accessorize are making a different sort of statement, and that those interested in presenting themselves more materially are therefore shallow and/or materialistic. Beware— sometimes appearances can be deceiving!

As we are all always concerned about looking good (whatever that may mean)—of a certain type or status—even if that means modest—we are always aware of when others look bad. Looking good or bad goes way beyond our physical appearance. It’s what we do and how we are. We use external appearances too often as assessments of character—that which really defines whether or not we look good.

And yet, everyone has a look. We can change our look through hair, clothing, glasses, etc., and we tend to think of this as expressing our selves and/or our position. Some of us, however, only know how to look one way. Our look hasn’t changed, but have we?

So what about that presidential look? What does that even mean? Looking presidential is more significant than a presidential look, although a presidential look should reflect the qualities that have one look presidential. A presidential look (or any look) is one’s superficial (external) appearance. Looking presidential is one’s demeanor.

Trump does not look presidential; nor does he have a presidential (modest and distinguished) look. Why would he dis appearance? Because it’s the lowest common denominator. It’s broad enough to include the most base of his base, who have difficulty with race and gender (as they are understood first by appearance). Because if anyone is shallow, it’s Trump. And those Trumpeters want simplistic, caustic, anti-, because they regard their blowhard as strong.

Why dis appearance? Because it immediately attracts the disgruntled.

To me, that doesn’t look very good.

Outthink Disruption

I recently saw a Facebook ad for IBM Analytics with the slogan “Outthink Disruption”. What a perfect tagline for our current culture of politics, and our culture and our politics. Forget distractions; we live in the age of disruptions, as though that’s a good thing.

Those who seek to disrupt feel that they are not served by the status quo. Disruption may be effective and even appropriate. Altering or even destroying the structure of something may be important to contributing to or saving lives. Or, such a disturbance may merely interrupt or cause more problems.

When I saw the tagline “Outthink Disruption”, Donald Trump had just become the presumptive nominee of the GOP (a nostalgic name for what is not very related to the modern Republican Party). Certainly Trump has been a Disruption, and he encourages his Trumpeters to Disrupt.
One could say that Bernie Sanders is also advocating Disruption, although without the mishugas, obnoxiousness,low brow-ness, narcissism, insults, hate, misogyny, racism, jingoism, xenophobia, or winking at violence.

The momentum for Disruption is palpable, but we have been living through 8 years of thoughtless disruption that has yielded frustration left and right. Disruption can’t be the goal. We have to Outthink Disruption. Progress occurs incrementally, and often through compromise—something that our culture  (or politics) doesn’t embrace. We expect instantaneous results—disruption—and we tout our way of life as the ultimate because we can do whatever we want in an instant.

Except we can’t. Not without ramifications.

As a culture, we have become hateful—not only of those we fear might seek to destroy us, but hateful of ourselves, and we are destroying ourselves. The vitriol that occurs during Primary season, and through the general election, seems to heighten each cycle. I’m not sure if we are really more hateful than ever, or that hate has a YUUUUUUUGE platform. Everyone yells and posts and overexposes and then stays within one’s own social and anti-social media bubble, condensing the ire and agreement.

I’ve heard all sorts of statistics, (which I take with a grain of salt), about how much hate there is for Trump and for Hillary. HATE. Hate is very powerful. It envelops and distorts. It is irrational. It is toxic. I hate hate. I have certainly felt hate. The fire of hate fuels the ego’s sense of what is right. But I don’t want to hate people. It’s actually too easy. I hate intolerance. I hate plenty of ideas and ways of being. Hate can lead to dangerous disruption—not merely shaking things up or tweaking the status quo.

We have to Outthink Disruption, which means examining our love of hate (and our uncomfortableness with thinking outside our comfort zones).

When I saw the tagline “Outthink Disruption” for IBM analytics, I thought it was a clever, albeit almost 20 year late, response to Apple’s “Think Different” campaign. “Think Different” was actually a response to IBM’s motto “Think”. And here we are in 2016….

Can we Outthink Disruption?

The Man Who Sold the World

Michael Stipe:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hF2ed7ouU3o

Nirvana: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fregObNcHC8

Lulu: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV8ywV7KwSI

David Bowie:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HSH–SJKVQQ

 

 
Over the last 24 hours, I have been inundated with videos of Trump and Stipe, with headlines about the most incredible audio from these men.

Trump managed to suggest that women who get abortions should be punished, and when the backlash was immediate and fierce, he backtracked and suggested that doctors who perform abortions should be punished, not the women who undergo the procedure.

Even abortion foes reacted strongly against Trump’s comment. John Kasich tweeted: “Of course women shouldn’t be punished for having an abortion.” This from a staunch opponent of abortions. Really? Since when have women who are pro-choice, much less suffered through an abortion, not been punished? Granted, the punishment is not prison or a fine, but the endless shaming and aggression against those who are pro-choice has always trumped (pun intended) compassion or concern or even curiosity about alternatives.

Whether Trump’s latest belch will affect his polling remains to be seen. After all, he’s the man who sold the world. He says what some think. He’s a zillionaire, so he must be the most capable and smartest in the world. He wrote The Art of the Deal. He’s bought and sold so much, you won’t believe how much. He’s the man who sold the world.
As all the media, social and anti-social, were broadcasting and posting Trump’s comments—about punishing women or physicians, the media was also sharing a rebroadcast (you-tube) of Michael Stipe, former frontman for R.E.M., singing a haunting cover of “The Man Who Sold the World”, by David Bowie. He performed it on The Tonight Show the other night, in advance of his “Music of David Bowie” tribute concert. His haunting rendition hardly conjures The Donald, but captures the personal searching for ourselves that Bowie’s version, and Nirvana’s unplugged version, also evoke. Yet, Stipe puts his own stamp on it, as did Bowie and Nirvana (Kurt Cobain, especially).

Art speaks truth to the human experience, and individuals find their specific identifications with a work of art. The style of Bowie’s 1970 song, and Nirvana’s 1995 Unplugged cover, and Michael Stipe’s 2016 rendition are each artist specific, yet the song seems timeless.

Demagoguery and hate are also timeless. There are always those who would sell the world for power. I couldn’t help but consider this song that was being posted everywhere yesterday in the context of the events of the day—namely, Donald Trump’s latest. The interesting thing about “The Man Who Sold the World” is that it is both the demagogue and us.

If the original intent of the song was to meet and “shake hands” with our “other” (lesser) selves, its meaning extends to a societal level. We not only have tremendous economical, social, religious, educational, cultural differences among us in the U.S., but we somehow have to shake hands and meet. We can’t merely sell the world and think we will continue to be successful.

I know that the man who sells the world, i.e. Donald Trump, is far from the guy Michael Stipe, Kurt Cobain, or David Bowie were evoking, but there is something quite amazing about The Man Who Sold the World. It is fitting that Stipe’s affecting rendition was being played everywhere the same day that Trump’s “punishing” comments were everywhere.

We passed upon the stair,
We spoke of was and when,
Although I wasn’t there,
He said I was his friend,
Which came as some surprise.
I spoke into his eyes,
“I thought you died alone
A long long time ago.”

“Oh no, not me,
I never lost control
You’re face to face
With the man who sold the world.”

I laughed and shook his hand
And made my way back home,
I searched for form and land,
For years and years I roamed.
I gazed a gazley stare
At all the millions here:
“We must have died alone,
A long long time ago.”

“Who knows? Not me,
We never lost control.
You’re face to face
With the man who sold the world.”

“Who knows? Not me,
We never lost control.
You’re face to face
With the man who sold the world. —David Bowie, first released in the US, Nov.1970

 

 
I just discovered Lulu (To Sir With Love)’s version of the song from 1974. Perhaps this version, albeit 1974 pop, is the most appropriate version. Women still feel face to face with The Man Who Sold the World. Of course, the more versions, the more we each recognize The Man Who Sold the World. We’re face to face with him.

You’re Welcome

Thanksgiving is weird. It’s gluttonous. For too many, the holiday is rife with family bickering and/or stress. Yet, the narrative of Thanksgiving is one of gratitude with a loving family and nature’s bounty, linked to an American origin story that suggests harmony with people of a different culture, sharing agricultural learning and exchange to achieve gastronomical delight. The religiosity of the non-native Americans is known, but the universality of gratitude distinguishes this holiday as one that can be embraced by any and all faiths. It is utterly American.

We celebrate the story. Our version highlights the ideals in theory, but the details often play out contrary to the ideals. Americans love the novel—the always new story that is tidy and lofty, that has us as the embodiment of goodness and Civilization. And we could never be so boorish as to not be grateful for all that we have been given, even when we feel like we are entitled because we stand for what is best. We don’t merely receive a bounty; we have a system that is based on the notion that more is better. We seek abundance; even demand it.

We often look down on those who do not seem to have much. Sure, we will be charitable and give to the needy, especially this time of year. But, there is a sense that abundance is not abundant; that it must always be hunted and gathered. More is more. Black Friday is the inverse of the Puritan holiday feast celebrated the day before, although the theme of gluttony (not in the original narrative) continues.

The sense of vulnerability that pervades American culture—that our precious and abundant life is at risk—is acute. In the 21st Century, terrorism has become even more global and effective and has heightened our sense of vulnerability in a way that was previously unknown to Americans. The Great Recession similarly created a sense of scarcity and risk. We are terrified of losing access to abundance and life as we know it (or knew it).

The very reasonable fears of loss due to extreme economic conditions and terrorism become magnified and take on lives of their own with the pervasiveness of media. Reasonable fears that require reasonable measures quickly devolve into panic and fear mongering.

Sure, we give thanks— at least on the last Thursday of November. But will we say, “You’re welcome.” ? Will we welcome refugees and others in need? Will we share our American bounty? Will we be welcoming to others—all the others that we can easily avoid, ignore, shun? Will we welcome change or other points of view?

The original story of Thanksgiving—of meeting the other and sharing the bounty— is the quintessential American tale. It would be more appropriate if we were more welcoming in our lives.
We can experience abundance when we are welcoming. We do have much for which to be thankful. But the magnitude is felt when we say, “You’re welcome” .

In Other Words

I’m not big on banning words, but I am pro thoughtful and considerate usage. Words, like actions, have consequences. That’s why we use them.

Before the real bloodbath of Friday the 13th in Paris four days ago, we were grappling with the sometimes conflicting necessities of racial sensitivity and free speech. For some, sensitivity means easily piqued; for others, sensitivity means the opposite— consideration, discernment, understanding, empathy. We see this different use and application of the word sensitivity much like the application of the word entitled; for some, entitled implies deserving based on qualification; for others, entitled implies someone who thinks s/he is deserving without having to do anything; spoiled.

In cases like entitlement and sensitivity, usage often falls within political party lines. It’s as though we are losing a common language. But, language does evolve, and reconsidering words and their usages reflects cultural (and sometimes personal) evolution.

It is easy to grasp the phrase “a clash of civilizations” when referring to terrorist groups who want to topple governments and seize territory through violence, distorted religion, and regression, as we have seen with the Taliban in Afghanistan, and with what we tend to call ISIS or ISIL (including more than Syria) or now the derogatorily named Daesh. Some have countered that the phrase “clash of civilizations” is hyperbolic and inaccurate because the fight is against Civilization, not against two civilizations. In other words, we dignify or dishonor depending on our word choices.

On the home front, we tend to distinguish between “politically correct” terms deemed considerate and preserving dignity, and terms that may be considered as derogatory or used to degrade or keep one outside. The recent backlashes to “politically correct” speech are sometimes motivated by discrimination, but other times, they are an effort to reclaim dignity in a new context; in effect, to show control over what was once terminology used for oppression. Others seek to acknowledge that speech is a protected right in this country and must not be silenced regardless of content.

I don’t believe that just because we have a Constitutional right to free speech, that speech is free. It is, like all freedom, embedded with responsibility, and that means consequences, intended and unintended. Our own grappling with words and phrases and how they reflect on us as a culture can get a bit messy, as we have seen many times during the last year alone, and recently on college campuses. Political rhetoric has always been with us, but we also see grassroots cultural rhetoric that seeks to dismantle some of the prevailing policies, and politics, cultural norms as well as inconsiderate behavior.

The way in which events are characterized is now mostly a matter of politics. Our task is to be aware of rhetoric. How words are used reflects and fosters dispositions. Even the word rhetoric, which refers to the way with words, can be defined as eloquence or as bombast; persuasion or lacking in sincerity or meaningful content. Politicization of events occurs through rhetoric—through word usage intended to persuade, either with eloquence or bombast.

The politicization of deaths to due terrorism and other violence seems to have the effect of dividing rather than uniting us in mission, which halts progress.
What should be done with so many Syrians fleeing Syria? We debate whether we should call them migrants or refugees. Refugees are those who flee their country in order to escape war, persecution, or natural disaster. However, for the politicians who fear terrorists entering our borders (not an unreasonable fear), they can state their position as not wanting to give refuge to terrorists, thereby conflating refugees with giving refuge to terrorists. And migrants? I don’t remember hearing that term before recently to describe those fleeing persecution. The politicization of the word refugee has created the current use of migrant as an alternative to refer to those seeking refuge from war and persecution.
I started by saying that I don’t generally believe in banning words, but I am in favor of thoughtful and considerate usage. The manhunt for the so-called “mastermind” of the recent Paris attacks is one case in which I think it’s time to abandon the term “mastermind” when used to describe perpetrators of violence against innocent people. We often use it with an invisible or silent “evil” preceding the word mastermind. The title “Mastermind” aggrandizes those who conceive of methods to kill innocent people. Life takes much more mastery than killing innocent people and inspiring fear. This guy may have been the chief organizer and strategist, but why dignify the monster with a title that should be reserved for those whose intelligence produces that which is constructive and life affirming?

We tend to denigrate honest, hardworking, patriotic people who may have different opinions, but we aggrandize and empower the real troublemakers, criminals and monsters, especially when we foment fear. In other words, we can consider or ignore; dignify or dishonor; empower or degrade. Words, like actions, have power and consequences. Use them wisely.

Old Faithful

Apparently, although not visibly, Americans are moving away from religion. The new, new silent majority (well, growing minority) are the irreligious millennials. This seems contrary to everything one can possibly consume through media channels. The common experience of America is that America is driven by religiosity, and that religious freedom is the most important Constitutional Right, next to the Second Amendment—the one about a well regulated militia . In fact, for many religious Americans, the first two amendments to the Constitution are the Constitution, and therefore, America.

But back to religiosity. Religion, as defined as “a particular system of faith and worship”, is on the decline among millennials. The Pew Research Center’s survey focused on Americans’ religious beliefs and practices. Essentially, the numbers suggest polarization along religious lines may be increasing in the United States. Although the percentage of Americans who responded that they are unaffiliated with any religious tradition is growing, those who identify with a religion are becoming more devout. The political implications are apparent.

The disaffection with formal religious institutions among millennials is not the same as lack of spirituality or morality. The survey explored traditional religious practices in association with traditional religious institutions.

I suspect that for those for whom faith in a deity and in an organized religion, the religious institution is a source of community and structure, rules and regulations, charity and ideals. For those for whom faith is not found in religious structures or descriptions, they may still seek a spiritual life (or not), and still seek community and morality, humanitarian causes and social justice, rules and regulations, charity and ideals. But it’s hard to have faith in institutions these days.

That’s what unites these two seemingly disparate (and desperate) states of America: The lack of faith in institutions seems to be pervasive. For some, there is faith in religious institutions and not in government; for others, there is faith (although perhaps dissatisfaction) in governmental and social institutions, and not in religious ones.
Faith is elusive when seeing evidence of the contrary. It’s hard to have faith in a person or institution when one’s belief is seemingly contradicted. Cops killing unarmed suspects, makes it hard to have faith in police. Daily shootings, often seemingly random, makes it hard to have faith in our gun laws. Schools dictated by tests, and colleges bankrupting young adults and families make it hard to have faith in education. People who are so anti-government they are willing to do anything to gain power to obstruct the government, make it hard to have faith in our institutions or in people. Knowing how much it takes to live a middle class life, much less leave a legacy, makes it very difficult to have faith in our economic system, or in our future.

Faith is future oriented, based on our feelings in the present. Ironically, it is history that can provide us the comfort necessary for faith. It is an accurate understanding of the unfolding of history, not as an ideological story, but more of a scientific and evolutionary approach to understanding circumstances and their impacts. It is not a predictor, and differences between historical moments are important to acknowledge. But we have seen religious eras, and progressive eras; chaotic times when violence was rampant and government was flailing. We’ve seen threatening times, and war too many times. And what seems unique now, has parallels.

I have faith in evolution. Sometimes I forget that we can evolve personally, because the evidence is often so contrary to my belief. Likewise, it’s easy to lose faith in our institutions, because we seem so stuck, and we confuse images and stories with knowledge,and we are often unwise. It’s difficult to see evolution, especially when we are overwhelmed by replays of old conflicts  with current unenlightened players. I don’t know the significance of the study on Americans and religion. It’s always evolving. We will continue to evolve. On that, I guess you can count me among the faithful.

Pope and Change

No, that’s not a typo. And yes, it does sound familiar.

I have been thinking about this Pope’s compassion. His willingness to pastor to those whom others have sought to ignore or even vilify, has been a welcome change. The institution of the papacy has not changed, although there is a growing movement to break down old,seemingly sacred barriers to include people who have been previously excluded, and to actually reform what has given cover to corruption and abuse. The change that the world is witnessing with Pope Francis, is one of greater compassion, caring, and reverence for actual life, not merely theoretical life, including sustaining our environment and taking action to mitigate climate change.

Many mock “Hope and Change” as a bumper sticker for the presidential race of ’08, and site everything that has challenged their beliefs or seemed wrong, or was difficult and incomplete, and even worse in some respects, as evidence that hope and change was a hoax. We must remember the reality of hope: Hope is not a solution. It is a spark.

Hope may evoke an ideal, and even ideas of change, but the words and deeds produced out of that hope are indeed seeds of change. Fear may also evoke an ideal, albeit a negative one— a hazard. The energy of fear often produces extreme speech and rigid responses. It limits possibilities in order to confirm a conviction of threat.

It is easy to feel despair and point to all that is wrong to confirm the hopeless conviction. It is difficult to create change in the space of despair. Resignation eliminates possibility. Moreover, it is easy for fear to take over, and fear has an energy that can overwhelm us, limiting possibility, or unleashing repressive or aggressive speech and/or actions.

For  many, this week is holy. For others, it may be a highly ritualized few days. Regardless of religious interpretations, this Pope’s visit is at once specific to a tradition and inclusive of those beyond that specific tradition. For those who observe the Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year in Jewish tradition, forgiveness of oneself and others is the primary concern. Atonement is practiced both privately and among the community. There is hope for change (for the better) after acknowledging wrongdoings—intentional or unintentional—and seeking to repair that which was broken.

Of course, at -one- ment, that experience of unity, is fleeting. After the blessings and the rituals and the speeches and the excitement have passed, whether it’s the Pope or the President, or the candidate, or the pundit, or the teacher, or the tweeter, or any other revered or merely popular figure, it’s our own words and deeds that require regular attention, and a willingness to not say and /or do what we’ve always done.

I am curious to hear the Pope as he visits the U.S. for his first time. Although I am not Catholic, I welcome wisdom and compassion and the cultivation of peace through peace. So many Americans of so many different religious traditions find him to be a welcome change and an inspiration. We do not have to have been raised in the same institutions or culture or religious faith to be inspired and educated and glean wisdom. We can welcome the Pope, and change.

Oliver!

You’ve probably read and heard umpteen remembrances of Dr. Oliver Sacks by now, and it’s only a day after his passing. The groundswell of mourning, even among those of us who never saw him in person, is a testament to his gifts. He was not only a scientist and physician of neurology, but passionate and compassionate, eager and humble, healer and patient, patient and restless, a seeker of knowledge and a friend to humanity. He embodied what so many of us wish we could.

Toward the end of his fascinating life, he shared many of his own personal experiences. He expressed his scientific explorations as well as human sensations, and as we got to know his work (about his patients), he began to express his own unusualness. Despite his expertise and stature, his later writings made him all the more human, and relatable. He reminded us that we may not even know that people may experience the world differently in some capacities than we do.

His fascination with so many facets of the natural world, particularly of the brain, was expressed with such enthusiasm and joy that it was contagious. We mourn the loss of such joy and knowledge. The world needs more knowledge and joy, not less.

It was with his sense of joy and pursuit of knowledge that he came to explore neurological conditions, and with his magnificent gift for prose, to express his clinical experiences (and later, his personal experiences) to a lay audience, while educating our hearts and minds. It was not that the extraordinary would seem ordinary, but that we could be introduced to experiences and conditions seemingly far from our own, and feel the humanity and compassion for an other. The bizarre was no longer hidden, but “awakened” for us.

We may be blessed enough to not have such neurological disorders in our lives, or we may recognize that disorders may arise in some other fashion in our lives. We may be caregivers or incapacitated ourselves at some other time. The introduction to that which is so different from our experience thus far, has far reaching implications.

We have seen social changes that were unthinkable two generations ago. What is considered bizarre, changes. How we include and care for those who struggle to function says much about us. Many struggle much more than we may realize. The “bizarre” may be hidden—at least temporarily. Or, the bizarre may burst forth and we must learn to pursue knowledge over fear.

Easier said than done, of course, but Dr. Sacks, gently and brilliantly had us become acquainted with not only neurological disorders and personal distresses, but took us into the world beyond our own. Ultimately, it’s all our world. Nature has so many facets to explore and from which to learn that may, in turn, increase our ability to impact other conditions. The more knowledge we can acquire about the natural world and make connections, the more we can affect positive change.

Dr Oliver Sacks seemed as unique as his case studies, but for many different reasons. Ultimately though, even his case studies and his personal seemingly unconventional experiences, were oh-so- human. Oliver! Consider yourself one of us!

And that’s the precious part. He was a gifted doctor and writer and educator, who relentlessly pursued knowledge and shared his joy and knowledge. He was generous of spirit and through his sharing, connected not just ideas, but souls. I may only wish I had his prodigious gifts of heart and mind—those that seem to separate the extraordinary from the ordinary, but despite those differences, like the differences he wrote about, we’re all facets of nature. Truly extraordinary.

Cowardly Lyin’

RIP Cecil. By now you know about the beloved lion, Cecil, who was lured away from a national park in Zimbabwe so that a dentist from Minnesota, Walter James Palmer, could have an opportunity to hunt Cecil outside the confines of the national park for $50,000.00. I won’t recount the gory details here. Suffice it to say, that while nothing will bring back Cecil the Lion, the public condemnation of Palmer’s big game hunt is forcing consequences that he obviously never imagined. In the face of serious threats, Palmer admitted to killing Cecil, but claimed that he was led to believe that the transaction and the hunt were legal. Whether or not they were legal, they were cowardly. And, at the very least, he’s lying to himself to convince himself that his hunting was justifiable.

Humans lie. Sometimes the lie is small and the consequences are insignificant beyond the immediate saving face. Other times, the lies are great to cover serious acts—perhaps criminal or to save lives. Lying to oneself is more insidious. Humans have tremendous capacities for convincing, and as Stephen Colbert taught us, “truthiness”. We contrive information and situations to suit our beliefs and our stories—even our morals.

We lie when we are afraid. And we tend to feel superior—even brave—when we think we are speaking truth to power. Sometimes, though, people confuse speaking truth to power, with speaking power to truthiness. People may disagree and still speak truthfully. Sadly, we are bombarded with cowardice and lying, in the guise of bully tactics and outrageous attempts to discredit perceived threats to one’s beliefs and/or power.

The current controversy over a “secret” (and edited) video created by abortion foes to discredit (and defund) Planned Parenthood is infuriating and tragic to me. The incredible, intentional distortion used to suggest that Planned Parenthood is a nefarious operation engaged in trafficking fetal body parts for profit, is disturbing not because if it were true it would be horrifying, but because there are those who feel compelled to lie and distort to suit their so-called morals. I have no objection to those who oppose abortion on moral grounds. I may respectfully disagree. I have objections to those who seek to ruin people by suggesting horror through distortion. It is cowardly to lie to make a point. It is also tragic.

Remember when Representative Joe Wilson yelled, “You lie!!” at the President during Obama’s speech to a joint session of Congress? It was startling and cringe-worthy, not because there was another important side or other information to consider (there usually is), but because disagreement is not an excuse for distortion, obnoxious behavior, outrageous statements, or lying (much less lying about lying). The assumption that someone who represents other ideas must be lying is small minded. However, when someone speaks and/or acts in a way that includes taking down another to make a point, one wonders about why one might need to distort and/or lie.

Are we so threatened and frightened by everyone else that lying or yelling “You lie!”, (or worse), or intentionally distorting the truth (lying) is all we have? Certainly, demanding the truth is necessary, and the ways in which that can be accomplished can be done with more critical thought and analysis. Our communications revolution has facilitated the ways in which people can be seen and heard, and allows for seemingly endless opportunities for distortion. The instantaneousness that technology provides encourages immediate reactions and responses, and a myriad of platforms to put forth one’s views.

Humans have always lied. Now, though, they can distort images and audio, or even just distort the truth for all to consume constantly. They can spew hate on global platforms heard and/or seen instantly and repeatedly. Even worse, it seems like so many will buy into lies, or at least into “truthiness”.

People often lie when they feel threatened or have a distorted sense of power and value. When they seek to bring down another, they are cowards. Cowardly lyin’, no matter how creative the lies or distortions, sustains negativity and can’t create positive change.
There will always be threatening people and ideas. Some will seek veracity, truth and compassion through truth. Others will seek power without compassion and distort the truth. They are cowardly lyin’.

Daddy Issues

 

El Papa issues an encyclical on the environment and our shared responsibility. He acknowledges human contribution to global warming in recent decades, and advocates ways in which we can tend to that (and those) which we have neglected. With poetry and prose, and scientific backing, he sternly urges all people to pay attention to “unprecedented destruction of ecosystems, with serious consequences for us all.” His assessment continues with connecting the environmental crisis to human and social degradation, as the poorest suffer the most. Beyond vanishing coral reefs and other plant and animal species, we are creating unhealthy and unsustainable conditions for our own species. El Papa urges conscientious actions and transforming our lifestyles toward environmental stewardship and being responsible to our entire world of humans and other animal and plant species.

 

Jeb! issues a statement in response to the (leaked) encyclical, “I hope I’m not going to get castigated for saying this by my priest back home, but I don’t get economic policy from my bishops or my cardinals or my pope.” Bush, a devout Catholic, says that religion “ought to be about making us better as people, less about things that end up getting into the political realm.”

 

REALLY???? Isn’t the Pope encouraging all people to be better, through attention and care of the earth and each other? El Papa’s message is a moral message for everyone. And yes, it has profound economic implications that have been ignored for too long, and we are beginning to reap the consequences.

 

Jeb!’s response seems rather rich from the guy who, as governor, intervened in the Terri Schiavo case, deciding that Schiavo’s feeding tube should be reinstated, appeasing so-called pro-life supporters. Just 2 days ago, on the heels of issuing his response to The Pope’s encyclical, Jeb! proudly reminded an audience at the Faith and Freedom conference of his role in the Terri Schiavo case saying that he “stood on the side of Terri Schiavo.” (Except, of course, he stood on the side of her parents and others—not on the side of Terri Schiavo or her desperate husband.)

 

While Jeb! issues statements on issues that, at best, don’t inspire, he seems to have an issue with his name. He has replaced Bush with ! Although seeming to distinguish himself more from his brother than from his father, he is struggling to find a way to be the one to move us forward.

 

Of course, the two issues that blindside us each time they occur (and they occur with frequency) are murdering innocents and racism. This time they converge. The massacre is in a church—The Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, S.C. Dylan Roof, 21, sits among members of a Bible study group in the historic black church, and after about an hour, opens fire, killing 9 members, including the pastor, the Rev. Clementa Pichney. It is soon revealed that Roof espouses racist views of so-called white supremacy. He is arrested for this hate crime and charged in the killings.

 

We have been struggling with these issues of seemingly out of control violence, especially gun violence against innocents—sometimes singular, sometimes massacres, and we have been seeing racism especially as it pertains to law enforcement. These issues of extreme violence, especially with guns, and racism—perhaps more insidious than in previous generations—continue to cause profound disturbances and grief, yet little action beyond social media attention.
We may celebrate the work and wisdom of our fathers today, and acknowledge how much they have given us, but each generation must also forge ahead, and see what isn’t working and face it and change it. The Pope has shown us that we can use our knowledge and wisdom and character (as well as spiritual life) to better our world and restore ecosystems. We can affect our environment. We can change the climate. Literally and figuratively.

 

We won’t be able to prevent every disaster—natural or human, but we can do more. We can change gun laws, and how we deal with psychological and social ills. We can be conscientious. We can take down flags that are remnants of racist history, that have no place in the 21st century.

 

We can celebrate our dads by practicing what the great dads teach—that actions (and inactions) have consequences—intended and unintended. We have issues to address. This Father’s Day, embrace your father, and El Papa’s message to us to take conscientious actions to better our world.

Happy Father’s Day!