Month: October 2016

Paradoxical Illogicalities and Limp Bizkit

limpbizkitThere’s been a great deal of conversation lately (if you can call it that) regarding the 2016 election and the behavior of each of the candidates—both current and past. This person is dishonest and corrupt. That person is an unrepentant sexual predator. The truth is that there exists credible (and in-credible) evidence to legitimize each viewpoint, depending on how you roll.

But that’s not what I want to talk about today.

What I’m wondering is what is it about the ardent supporters for each person that makes them willing to overlook such obvious…character flaws in the person they support, while calling for the metaphorical heads of the opposition. The truth is that when you take a good and close look at each candidate one thing (to me) becomes appallingly clear.

They’re people. They’re fallible people like us, albeit with a lot more money, and as such each also seems to have that same tendency everyone else does: they do stupid things about as often as the average person.

They make mistakes.

That said, what is behind the everyday person’s willingness to overlook mistakes with a light shining on them brighter than Kleig lights on a movie set?

Some of these fallacies are not very nice. Some illegal. Some resulted in death and other traumas. In either case, the people involved are proven to be crass and inconsiderate—even profanely so—on more than one occasion.

Yet even so we carry blue signs and wear red hats. I don’t get it. It seems like nothing matters to anyone—nothing real.

Rather, to quote the 90’s philosopher/poets Limp Bizkit, “It’s all about the he-says, she-says bull—“

Why? People don’t even seem to know what they’re for anymore, in any way they can explain. They can tell you what they’re against, though.

“Never Trump.”

“Jail her.”

[Insert slogan here]

What matters to you?

PC or Bust

I’ve been thinking about political correctness the past few days, and I decided I was tired of it. It’s too demanding–and that much ambiguity is unattainable. One must become racially, sexually, politically, religiously and culturally ambiguous–or “fluid,” I believe they say now.

Don’t distinguish yourself from the pack in any way, because we are all the same–meat-covered cookies.

Refer to people without gender specificity. Tell your DNA it isn’t the boss of you.

Referring to one’s self as any particular color is racist. We are all opaque.

Fiscal and governmental concerns? Nah. Give lots of stuff to people–who cares how it’s paid for.

Don’t worship, just…be. And wear scarves and patchouli so you can better find your oneness.

Personal pronouns? Make up one. We have 26 letters. Or maybe–since letters are specific–they should all be “—.”

Are you fleeing another country because it sucks? Which country? Oh, never mind, I can’t ask you that. Do you have ID? Oh, wait. Verboten. Sorry.

Do you identify as an ampersand? Come on, &. There are no letters.

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Toward The Hard Things

My desktop background on my work computer is a picture of all three of our boys riding their bikes down 17th Pl toward the intersection with Magnolia–John in the middle with his training wheels, David and Jose on either side.

Just this moment, I was thinking about the work I have before me as their Dad. I was not thinking in an apprehensive way, because there’s nothing to be afraid of. I was simply watching them ride down the street away from me–all at their own pace, in their own way.

Toward the end of the street.

How do I prepare them for that, or help to?

I think the best thing I can do is show them how to be men, and hopefully one day fathers who do not shy away from the hard things.

How on Earth do I do that? I will try to show them respect for people, and respect for life. I’ll try and teach them how to listen to understand, and not just respond. I’ll teach them that God can be real to them, as he is to me. I’ll teach them how much of a blessing a kind word can be. I’ll teach them that God didn’t make people as objects, but sentient and loving beings, just waiting to be recognized for who they are, rather than what they have done or can do. I will teach them that for the most part, politics are so much compost. People matter, not agendas. God matters most of all, not whether America is great, was great, or can be great again.

And because they might want to have a family some day, I will teach them how I came to mine. Through openness to love when it seemed a futile endeavor. Through an open mind and an open heart. Through loving beyond myself. I will show them this by loving their mother as best I can, in every way I can.

I do not worship my wife, but I love her, as my wedding vows said, “as Christ loves the church.” I love my kids as my kids. I am not their buddy; I’m their father, and that carries a hefty chunk of responsibility. Sometimes there will be discipline. That’s OK. There will be a greater measure of love.

Sunday, Jen was staying home from church because she was in pain and more than a little jacked up from her fall on Saturday. There was a bit of a dust up amongst the kids–they are still learning how to relate to one another along with their newest brother learning how to relate to them. On XM63 a song came on, from the band Fee, I think, called “Glory to God.” All three boys knew the words from various places, and they began singing it. Not in perfect harmony, because life isn’t perfect. They sang it like brothers with three different voices, and it was awesome.

It ended up being a pretty good day.

1-1/2 Seconds

There’s been a lot in the news lately about the Georgia Tech police who shot and fatally wounded a young man–a “non-binary” campus activist who was approaching them with a weapon and not heeding commands. This young man has become in his death a bit of a symbol of the police penchant for cruelty and wanton murder toward people like this young man and others who defy them.

Yet when you look at the details of the situation, it sounds a whole lot more like “suicide by cop” than it does murder. But he was mentally ill, they’re saying. He wasn’t a threat to anyone. Less commonly heard is that he called the police on himself. He told them someone was out and about with a weapon–and maybe a gun.

Clearly, this gentle…person had some issues. Probably was mentally ill. But. Campus police didn’t know that? How could they have? Someone is walking toward them and not complying with any of their commands. He’s got something in his hand.

There are, of course, extraneous circumstances–as there always are in these instances. The media is certain to let us know about them. Yet I got to thinking–it’s so easy for us to second guess police. Why don’t they tase them? Why don’t they shoot them in the leg, or shoot the gun or knife out of their hand?

Imagine someone facing you from a few feet away and pulling out…anything. How long does that take? Or walking toward you brandishing something. When…the person gets close enough to you to make out what he’s carrying, what do you do? You can’t take your eyes off him long enough to study the object for any real length of time. He’s coming toward you. What do you do? How long does it take for this person to get close enough to harm them (if that’s what he wanted them to think he was going to do)?

Roughly speaking, it takes about 1.5 seconds. A second and a half. A great deal can happen in 1.5 seconds. Try this: hold out your arm straight in front of you with a pen in your hand. Drop the pen. Catch it before it hits the ground.

It isn’t that easy, is it? Or even possible. Now add stress to that. Someone shouting. The possibility of nearby people being injured.

Watch someone pull a banana from their waist. Or a Nerf gun. Time it. What if their back is to you? How long does it take for your eyes to recognize movement? Where the movement is coming from? What the movement is? The guy’s hand is moving…what’s in it? Is it a knife? A gun? Does he have anything else within easy reach?

1.5 seconds. That’s all you’ve got. That’s all that’s between you and…anything. Knife, gun, whatever it is.

Just watch this short video, and tell me how the police in the Georgia Tech incident–or any incident–could have reacted differently. Should they have thrown their handcuffs at him? What if he leapt? What if he lunged and sliced with a knife? What if threw something lethal or toxic? They tried to get him to stop–he didn’t. He left suicide notes; he wanted to die. Certainly these men didn’t set off wanting to kill anyone, and it’s hard to imagine the incident being related to homophobia. But what do I know?

1.5 seconds