Redressing the humor balance

Making fun of politicians is not only our right as Americans, it’s our duty. After all, somebody has to keep those guys (relatively) humble if we’re going to preserve democracy. Unfortunately, those who lead us in this important cultural responsibility—our late-night talk-show hosts—have been falling down on the job, unable to find a good way to poke fun at Barack Obama. Part of that is the candidate’s own resistance, which is worrisome; do we really want a president who won’t let us laugh at him? We’ve had presidents before who were bad at laughing at themselves (think Nixon), which was bad enough—but not to be able to laugh at the President? It’s positively un-American. Part of this too is that audiences are resistant, which is equally concerning; if we’ve started taking politicians, even one politician, too seriously to be able to laugh at them, something is seriously out of whack with us.Fortunately, there are a few people riding to the rescue. Andy Borowitz was good enough to pass along a list of five “campaign-approved Barack Obama jokes,” and Joel Stein (in the Los Angeles Times) has collected a list of suggestions for the rest of us. We also, thank goodness, have JibJab:

With their help, it is to be hoped that we can go forth and redress the humor balance. We’d certainly better, because Maureen Dowd is right:

if Obama gets elected and there is nothing funny about him, it won’t be the economy that’s depressed. It will be the rest of us.

(As a side note, I have to admit, I feel a little sorry for Sen. Obama. Not so much because of his touchiness, although I think being able to laugh at oneself is one of life’s great blessings; it’s because of his initials. People keep wanting to refer to him by his initials, and certainly as a Democratic presidental candidate, you want to be able to hang out with FDR and JFK—though maybe not so much LBJ; but he doesn’t want to be referred to as BHO, because that reminds people that his middle name’s Hussein, and that’s bad, or something. And yet, not even Barack Obama can make BO cool. What’s the guy to do?)HT for the Stein column: Bill

The other good GOP VP option

Louisiana Gov. Bobby Jindal got some airtime today, courtesy of Kathleen Parker. In the process, though, she pointed out the main reason for picking Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin over Gov. Jindal (in my book, anyway): the GOP really needs Gov. Jindal to stay in Louisiana for a while. Given the nature of the situation down there, his task in reforming Louisiana is a much longer-term one, and much more dependent on him. If Sen. McCain picks him, the Louisiana statehouse reverts to a Democrat who’ll abandon everything he’s been trying to accomplish; whereas if Gov. Palin is the nominee, her successor will be a Republican, most likely the state attorney general (since the lieutenant governor will probably be moving on himself, to the House of Representatives), who’s one of her own appointees. I continue to believe that Sen. McCain should name Gov. Palin his running mate and give Gov. Jindal the “Obama slot” at the national convention, thereby putting both of them on the national stage but leaving Gov. Jindal in place to do the work in Louisiana that badly needs doing.(Update: apparently Gov. Jindal thinks the same way; what both Kathleen Parker and I missed is that he’s taken himself out of the running, announcing he’s going to stay in Louisiana. That’s good, I think—as long as Gov. Palin can tamp out the fire in Alaska.)(Further update: here’s an excellent article from the Wall Street Journal on Gov. Palin’s spiritual journey from Hinduism to Catholicism. My thanks to James Grant for the link.)

The Reagan coalition lives

. . . at least in Pennsylvania, where a guy who can’t even campaign until next month (because he’s still on active duty with the Army) appears to be setting himself up to take down Democrat pork king Rep. Jack Murtha. None too soon, if it happens—and so far, it looks like Rep. Murtha’s constituents agree. That guy is one of those politicians I’d want out of office no matter what party I supported; as an unabashed conservative, though, I’ll be particularly pleased if he’s “redeployed” by a guy who defines himself this way:

I am a conservative. I believe in the sovereignty and security of this one nation, under God. I believe the primary role of government is to provide for the common defense and a legal framework to protect families and individual liberty. . . . I believe that no one owes me anything just because I live and breathe.

Here’s pulling for William Russell.

Maybe I can stop worrying about Palin

I am, as my wife says, prone to fret; this is because, as she also says, I am my mother’s son. At least I come by it honestly . . .In any case, however much of it is a clear assessment of the circumstances and however much is simply me, I’ve been concerned about the effect the Monegan affair could have on Sarah Palin’s VP chances. It’s not that I thought she was guilty of any significant improper conduct—like Carlos Echevarria, I believe in her; but the whole thing has been generating more than enough smoke to drive John McCain another direction in looking for his running mate, and in the long run, I don’t believe that would be good. Unfortunately, whether or not there’s any real fire to the story, there has been a fair bit of sizzle, and that makes it harder to combat; it’s not enough to make a dry, rational case that Gov. Palin made a reasonable decision to fire Commissioner Walt Monegan, you have to put out the sizzle. If Adam Brickley’s right, though, she may have managed enough to do that: the latest statement from the governor’s office certainly seems to have buried Monegan’s allegations in an avalanche of documented facts. I’m sure this won’t stop her political opponents from trying to use this whole affair to hurt her—that, alas, is politics in this day and age; I’m hopeful, though, that it will be enough to render this a minor or non-story on the national stage, and thus remove the issue as a reason for Sen. McCain not to pick Gov. Palin. No matter how hard the Romneyites try to flog this thing, if it’s a dead moose, it’s a dead moose.The other good news Adam reported is that the Alaska House has passed the governor’s pipeline plan, leaving only Senate approval still ahead. This is one of the things for which I greatly admire Gov. Palin, that she put the welfare of the state of Alaska ahead of the welfare of our oil companies—when they wouldn’t give the state a square deal, she made sure the job went to someone else who would. This is how you build a position that’s for energy exploration without being in the pocket of Big Oil. Bravo, Governor. Bravo.

Local firm does good

in more ways than one. Rabb/Kinetico Water Systems is a company based here in Warsaw that makes non-electrical home water systems (that, as I understand it, is where “Kinetico” comes in) that use far less salt than your typical electrical water softener; that also means, as I understand it, a lot less water wastage with their systems. They do good work with a good product; they also do good work in other ways, as Don Clemens, the company’s president, is one of the founders and leaders of Men Following Christ, a local Christian ministry. They’re admirable folks, and it’s good to see them getting a little attention beyond our community here: the Times-Union, our local paper, reported last week that PBS and Hugh Downs had filmed a segment on Rabb/Kinetico for the network’s “National Environmental Report.” I don’t know when that will be airing, but I hope to catch it (maybe it will be on the PBS website).

Exercise in cultural theology: “Kyrie”

I guess it’s ’80s pop week here—more than a little odd for someone who never listened to the stuff at the time. Still, there were a few songs from that era I really liked anyway; “We Didn’t Start the Fire” was one of them, and this was another one.

For those who don’t know, kyrie eleison means “Lord, have mercy.” Many don’t; I’ve seen people write that it means “God go with me,” and I’d always assumed that the songwriter thought that’s what it meant. In fact, though, John Lang (who wrote the lyrics) grew up singing the Kyrie in an Episcopal church in Phoenix, and knew the meaning of the words. In a lot of ways, that makes the song more interesting, I think; it’s still a prayer for God’s presence as we go through life, but Lang knew when he wrote it that it’s also a prayer for his mercy on that road, which we certainly need, both in the bright days and when our path leads us through “the darkness of the night.”

I appreciate Lang’s almost mystical sense of life in this song; in the context of an ancient Christian prayer, with the imagery of wind and fire which has been used of the Spirit of God going all the way back to the time of Moses, one can certainly understand it to refer to the work of the Spirit in our hearts, and the song as a prayer for his mercy as we seek to follow where he leads us.

My one quarrel here is the third line of the chorus: “Kyrie eleison—where I’m going will you follow?” I don’t think that really fits with the first line (“Kyrie eleison down the road that I must travel”), and taken by itself it gets matters exactly backwards; actually, when we start looking at things that way—”God, I’m going this way; are you coming?”—tends to be when we get into trouble (and thus need his mercy the most, of course). I suspect it was most likely meant to ask, “Are you going with me down this road you’re sending me on?” but that misses the fact that God doesn’t send us, he leads us. There have been times when I’ve sung this song, privately, as a prayer, but when I do, I reverse that third line: “where you lead me, I will follow.”That’s the orientation we need to have if we’re seeking to live under the mercy of God; his mercy isn’t simply something to which we appeal when we go wrong, but is in fact the light that guides us to go right.

Kyrie

Kyrie eleison
Kyrie eleison
Kyrie . . .

The wind blows hard against this mountainside,
Across the sea into my soul;
It reaches into where I cannot hide,
Setting my feet upon the road.

My heart is old, it holds my memories;
My body burns, a gemlike flame.
Somewhere between the soul and soft machine
Is where I find myself again.

Chorus:
Kyrie eleison down the road that I must travel;

Kyrie eleison through the darkness of the night.
Kyrie eleison—where I’m going will you follow?
Kyrie eleison on a highway in the light.

When I was young I thought of growing old—
Of what my life would mean to me;
Would I have followed down my chosen road,
Or only waste what I could be?

Chorus out

Words: John Lang; music: Richard Page and Steve George
© 1985 Ali-Aja Music/Indolent Sloth Music/Panola Park Music/WB Music Corp.
From the album Welcome to the Real World, by Mr. Mister

 

Barack Obama as overhead-projector screen

Shelby Steele, an analyst for whom I have tremendous respect, has a fascinating column up on the Wall Street Journal website—and I’m not sure what to make of it. It’s titled “Why Jesse Jackson Hates Obama,” but that’s only what the first half (or so) of the piece is about; having laid out why, on his read, Jackson hates Sen. Obama, he then spends the rest of it meditating on the consequences of his conclusion (with a particular note on its consequences for John McCain). I’m still figuring out what I think of it; I recommend you read it and do the same.HT: Presbyweb

Considering the practice of the Jesus way

In the latest issue of Perspectives, I was interested to run across a review of a recent book called Jesus Brand Spirituality: He Wants His Religion Back. With a title like that, I would have expected “just another critique of the shallowness of evangelical certitudes or the meanness of some of the Religious Right or yet another call to be open and in conversation as we emerge into new ideas”; according to the glowing review by Byron Borger of Hearts & Minds Books, however, it’s nothing of the sort. In fact, the book’s author, Ken Wilson, isn’t a liberal at all, but rather a Vineyard pastor, and according to Borgan,

Wilson has written a thoughtful, mature, and deeply engaging study of the ways in which we can approach Jesus, how to make sense of life in light of his ways. It talks about how the best of four streams within Christianity can unite to help create a passionate, faithful and yet grace-filled, life-giving spirituality. (Wilson’s four dimensions, by the way, are the active, the contemplative, the biblical, and the communal.) . . .

Jesus Brand Spirituality is ideal for mainline Protestants who want to make sure their liberal theology doesn’t go off the tracks, who want to stay close to Jesus and the earliest biblical truths, even if they are not quite where more traditionalist conservatives stand. It is equally helpful for anyone committed to historic Christian orthodoxy but who may sense that the recent cultural conflict, dogmatism, moralism, and overlays of the evangelical subculture may have obscured some of the clearest elements of the faith. And—please don’t miss this—it is also a fabulous read for anyone who is a skeptic or seeker; at times, it seems like it is written precisely for those who just are willing to get “one step closer to knowing.” . . .

No matter where you are on your spiritual journey, or with which denomination or tradition you stand, I am confident this book will challenge, stretch, inspire, and bless you.

That sounds promising. Interestingly, it fits in quite well with the other review in this issue, by David Smith, of Craig Dykstra’s Growing in the Life of Faith: Education and Christian Practices.In that review, Smith writes,

“Practices” is, in this context, a pregnant term, used in a way that reaches beyond its everyday meaning. Dykstra’s usage draws upon the widely discussed account of social practices found in the writings of Alasdair MacIntyre (particularly in After Virtue). Roughly speaking, for MacIntyre a practice involves a complex and coherent social activity pursued with other people because of goods that inhere in the activity itself—like playing a sport for the satisfaction of a well matched game rather than with the aim of getting one’s name in the paper. Such practices have their own standards of excellence to which the practitioner must submit, and they provide a matrix within which our own pursuit—and perception—of excellence can evolve. Such matrices, MacIntyre argues, are where virtue grows: not through having moral rules explained, but through submitting to the discipline of socially established practices. . . .

What if being and growing as a Christian is not well characterized in terms, say, of assent to doctrines but requires a pattern of Christian practices within which Christian beliefs are at home? What if faith development has as much to do with being enfolded in and submitting to such practices as hospitality to the stranger, worship, community, forgiveness, healing, and testimony as with grasping increasingly complex articulations of doctrine?

This, too, I think is a book I want to read, and in part for the same reason: to consider how Christian belief and Christian practice are interwoven, neither making sense without the other—indeed, neither truly existing without the other. Christian belief is belief which is lived out, and Christian practice is an expression of belief—they aren’t separable; and at their core, they’re all about becoming, living, walking, being, like Jesus, living life in his footsteps.

Three chords and a history book

Courtesy of JibJab, I’ve had this tune stuck in my head for days now; so I decided to post an annotated version. Note: most of the links are Wikipedia, but not all.

We Didn’t Start the Fire

Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray,
South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio,
Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, television,
North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Monroe,

Rosenbergs, H-bomb, Sugar Ray, Panmunjeom,
Brando, The King and I, and The Catcher In The Rye,
Eisenhower, vaccine, England’s got a new queen,
Marciano, Liberace, Santayana goodbye . . .

Chorus:
We didn’t start the fire—
It was always burning
Since the world’s been turning.
We didn’t start the fire—
No, we didn’t light it,
But we tried to fight it.

Josef Stalin, Malenkov, Nasser, and Prokofiev,
Rockefeller, Campanella, Communist Bloc,
Roy Cohn, Juan Perón, Toscanini, Dacron,
Dien Bien Phu falls, Rock Around the Clock,

Einstein, James Dean, Brooklyn’s got a winning team,
Davy Crockett, Peter Pan, Elvis Presley, Disneyland,
Bardot, Budapest, Alabama, Khrushchev,
Princess Grace, Peyton Place, trouble in the Suez . . .

Chorus

Little Rock, Pasternak, Mickey Mantle, Kerouac,
Sputnik, Zhou Enlai, Bridge On The River Kwai,
Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle, California baseball,
Starkweather homicide, children of thalidomide,

Buddy Holly, Ben-Hur, space monkey, Mafia,
Hula hoops, Castro, Edsel is a no-go,
U-2, Syngman Rhee, payola and Kennedy,
Chubby Checker, Psycho, Belgians in the Congo . . .

Chorus

Hemingway, Eichmann, Stranger in a Strange Land,
Dylan, Berlin, Bay of Pigs invasion,
Lawrence of Arabia, British Beatlemania,
Ole Miss, John Glenn, Liston beats Patterson,
Pope Paul, Malcolm X, British politician sex,
J.F.K. blown away, what else do I have to say?!

Chorus

Birth control, Ho Chi Minh, Richard Nixon back again,
Moonshot, Woodstock, Watergate, punk rock,
Begin, Reagan, Palestine, terror on the airline,
Ayatollahs in Iran, Russians in Afghanistan,

Wheel of Fortune, Sally Ride, heavy metal, suicide,
Foreign debts, homeless vets, AIDS, crack, Bernie Goetz,
Hypodermics on the shore, China’s under martial law,
Rock-and-roller cola wars, I can’t take it anymore!

We didn’t start the fire—
It was always burning
Since the world’s been turning.
We didn’t start the fire—
But when we are gone,
It will still go on, and on, and on, and on, and on . . .

Words and music: Billy Joel
© 1989 Sony Music Entertainment Inc.
From the album 
Storm Front, by Billy Joel