Napper's Snapper: Could We Be So Constituted?

Another conservative friend of mine — Electra, not Anon E. Mouse — sent me a very interesting email a few days ago. With the boss away on vacation this week (ditto one of three sub-bosses, too), I was able to ponder it a bit at work. It's deserving of a fuller response (and Spartacus has said he'll have a look at it himself), so now there'll be yet another topic I'll get tied up in for a while. 

I forwarded this email around a bit of a cross-section of folks I know: some family, Ben and Hugo (one's a non-touchy-feely Democrat, the other seems to be more of a Libertarian), Anon (no reply!?), Spartacus, and so forth. First, let's have Electra's email (with no — shudder! — corrections to grammar, punctuation, and spelling); I'll follow it up with the response I emailed out. Spartacus, you can chime in anytime. I plan to research that Napper fellow a bit further, too, and give more background. 

Sent: Tuesday, April 10, 2007 8:28 AM
Subject: RW Preamble 

NEW PREAMBLE TO THE CONSTITUTION

This is probably the best e-mail I've seen in a long, long time.

The famed "Bill of No Rights" was written in 1993 by Lewis Napper, a self-described amateur philosopher from Mississippi who ran for a U.S. Senate seat in 2000 as a Libertarian. Personally, this guy should run for President!

"We the sensible people of the United States, in an attempt to help everyone get along, restore some semblance of justice, avoid more riots, keep our nation safe, promote positive behavior, and secure the blessings of debt-free liberty to ourselves and our great-great-great-grandchildren, hereby try one more time to ordain and establish some common sense guidelines for the terminally whiny, guilt ridden, delusional, and other bed-wetter's. We hold these truths to be self evident: that a whole lot of people are confused by the Bill of Rights and are so dim they require a Bill of NON-Rights."

ARTICLE I: You do not have the right to a new car, big screen TV, or any other form of wealth. More power to you if you can legally acquire them, but No one is guaranteeing anything.

ARTICLE II: You do not have the right to never be offended. This country is based on freedom, and that means freedom for everyone -- not just you! You may leave the room, turn the channel, express a different opinion, etc.; but the world is full of idiots, and probably always will be.

ARTICLE III: You do not have the right to be free from harm. If you stick a screwdriver in your eye, learn to be more careful; do not expect the tool Manufacturer to make you and all your relatives independently wealthy.

ARTICLE IV: You do not have the right to free food and housing. Americans are the most charitable people to be found, and will gladly help anyone in need, but we are quickly growing weary of subsidizing generation after generation of professional couch potatoes who achieve nothing more than the Creation of another generation of professional couch potatoes. (This one is my pet peeve...get an education and go to work. Don't expect everyone else to take care of you!)

ARTICLE V: You do not have the right to free health care. That would be nice, but from the looks of public housing, we're just not interested in public health care.

ARTICLE VI: You do not have the right to physically harm other people. If you kidnap, rape, intentionally maim, or kill someone, don't be surprised if the rest of us want to see you fry in the electric chair.

ARTICLE VII: You do not have the right to the possessions of others. If you rob, cheat, or coerce away the goods or services of other citizens, don't be surprised if the rest of us get together and lock you away in a place where you still won't have the right to a big screen color TV or a life of leisure.

ARTICLE VIII: You do not have the right to a job. All of us sure want you to have a job, and will gladly help you along in hard times, but we expect you to take advantage of the opportunities of education and vocational training laid before you to make yourself useful.

ARTICLE IX: You do not have the right to happiness. Being an American means that you have the right to PURSUE happiness, which by the way, is a lot easier if you are unencumbered by an over abundance of idiotic laws created by those of you who were confused by the Bill of Rights.

ARTICLE X: This is an English speaking country. We don't care where you are from, English is our language. Learn it or go back to wherever you came from!

ARTICLE XI: You do not have the right to change our country's history or heritage. This country was founded on the belief in God. And yet, you are given the freedom to believe in any religion, any faith, or no faith at all; with no fear of persecution. The phrase IN GOD WE TRUST is part of our heritage and history, and if you are uncomfortable with it, TOUGH!!!! 

So I responded as follows (and Electra seemed unoffended afterward); I was rather time-rushed, though: 

Sent: Tuesday, April 10, 2007 9:50 AM
Subject: FW: RW Preamble

This comes from a conservative friend (i.e., ranting on the other end of the political spectrum from me). Largely I concur… although parts of it seem to grate just a bit on me — besides leaving little leeway for strokes of compassion, it also provides no guidelines on exactly how we are to "secure the blessings of debt-free liberty". And what would be government's role? How would it be funded? What are its limitations domestically? Overseas? What about national defense? Catastrophic natural disasters? What checks and balances? 

One sample hole I see: if government is to be severely curtailed (I believe that's an objective of both Libertarians and your run-of-the-mill American conservative), who maintains the infrastructure? Would it be the states? Then be warned: if you devolve a lot of the responsibilities of a federal government down to the state level, the issue of paying for these services becomes critical: how will they, the states, raise the funds? Short-sighted legislatures — both federal and state — have been cutting into education and health to be able to pay for other services. This is suicidal to society; funding for education and health care should be expanded… or our grandchildren will be sickly morons. 

I'm okay with the concept of a pay-as-you-go highways-system to pull in revenue for maintenance and even expansion of said infrastructure… although the condition of the Pennsylvania Turnpike has me snickering at how well such a venture is likely to turn out. Will someone oversee that toll-booth payers aren't being gouged? Then you've either added a layer back into your bureaucracy, or given more work to a pool of hungry lawyers. 

Article V I disagree with. Today we do have a reasonably well maintained roads-infrastructure in most states and regions. So why can't we have free health care? Pay-as-you-go sounds okay here… but what about your retired, widowed aunt, who's living on her retirement income and a small pension, and who suddenly is found to have leukemia? How is she to pay for her treatment? A system to spread such costs among some 200 million income-earning Americans would make it possible — but it would also need to be regulated… and there again is another layer of bureaucracy. 

Another problem with shifting responsibilities from the federal to the state level would be that strong, issue-driven state legislatures might just decide to secede and become their own country/ies. Granted, if Alabama decided it wanted to be a separate country, the impact (other than to the national psyche) might be minimal. How about if California — with an economy bigger and more robust than all but some half-dozen of all the world's nations — decided to leave the union? Would it be the state's "right"? Why not? Who would stop them? 

Article X I concur with… but it ignores the historical fact that we are "an English[-]speaking country" only by reason of conquest, not acclimation. The Article implies that those who preceded us to this land have fewer rights if they prefer their Algonquian, Tlingit, Shawnee, Narragansett, Cherokee, and so on. Should we escort them all back up the west coast and across the Bering Strait? Or toss Hawaii's native Polynesians into the Pacific? 

Regardless; there's much to ponder here — and the opportunity to engage in a vigorous political dialog/debate is one of our cornerstones and liberties. This one should trigger that cornerstone big-time… 

Regards,
AgingChild

I once used that Article-Ten question directly on Electra (no, of course that's not her real name). I asked her in passing, "Do you speak any Spanish?" She and her husband — both coworkers of mine — are incredibly renaissance-types, in that there is a staggeringly broad range of talent and brains between the two of them. He can sew incredible wedding-dresses and make beautiful cakes; she is a published author (yes, I have a copy), knows her way around under a car's hood and chassis, plays handbells, sings, and so on. I believe they're both former Navy-medical. 

Electra looked at me coolly. "No," she answered, "I speak American." 

I tossed back at her (some weeks later, I admit), "Which 'American' do you mean? Cherokee? Cheyenne? Sioux? Navajo?" 

She laughed. "Good one!"

Followup… this posting actually got a comment:

Asher Heimermann Apr 17, 2007

What are you talking about?

AgingChild Apr 18, 2007

Shalom aleikhem, Asher; welcome to MT2mb.

Well, one of the things I do on my blog is pounce on conservatives! Lewis Napper wrote a poorly-thought-out, shallow, bigoted, simplistic piece on how to rewrite the introduction to our almighty Constitution in such a way that it would favor his "put up, or shut up" approach to dealing with other people's needs and aims — yet in Article XI he firmly declares, "[y]ou do not have the right to change our country's history or heritage"!

So when a conservative friend sent me that rant, I couldn't leave it alone, or delete it, and instead answered (copying friends from all over the political spectrum; only one responded… oh, well) with my own responses, addressing some of the holes and other shaky underpinnings. I might just track down his website (not that I'm greatly interested in doing so), and send it to him directly. On second thought, that WOULD be a bit fun… something like poking at a touchy bulldog through a picket fence!

Open-minded people of all ilks should have a broad range of friends and associates. I'm spiritual and liberal; so are some of my friends, while others are fundamentalist, agnostic, Jewish, Muslim, even more liberal, conservative, young, old, etc. I learn from each of them — I give them opportunities to express their viewpoints and feelings, and they seem to respect me enough to do the same… although most of them are so entrenched in their beliefs (spiritual, political, or whatever else) that their minds change rarely.

Anyway, I did manage — though respectfully and humorously — to give that particular conservative friend a dose of her own medicine by throwing a philosophical elephant through one of the many loopholes in her rationale; she laughed it off, and has kept her bigoted outlook. She's also a very nice woman overall, and I like her.

Thanks for stopping by; hope the topics aren't too dizzying!

 

 

A Step Forward: In the Running

This weekend I should be able to get a little more backfilling done here: address comments from Spartacus (he and the family are on Spring break, so who knows where they're Roman! heh-heh…), insert URLs/links, and so on. Weather looks like it'll be ugly… although there won't be any more snow for the next seven or eight months, unless Ragnarok's around the corner. Good. 

Next weekend has me and Marine-brother doing another 5K (first since October), back in the Pennsylvania town where we buried our dad. And in May, there'll be another 5K in the beautiful, big little town of Fredneck – er, Frederick. That's a rural, west-central Maryland town I wouldn't mind settling down in: some cobblestoned walkways downtown, nice shops there selling everything from antiques to Wiccan gear to Catholica (great little Catholic bookstore there I've found), good restaurants, and occasional claims to fame, such as Barbara Fritchie, Francis Scott Key (they named a shopping center – and their minor-league baseball team – after him!), and – do I have this right? – a military base where chemical and biological weapons are tested. 

Bear in mind that I stand maybe five-ten, five-nine, soaking wet; on my tiptoes I weigh <very embarrassed cough> about 220 pounds… yet a mere quarter-century ago I was under 150. Sassy-lassie daughter Shelly says I looked hot when I was twenty-two (which was when her mom and I were dating, and got married) – obviously I've grown out of that embarrassment as well. Anyway, I'm in borderline-poor shape. Blood pressure's quite nice (around 118/78), but at my last blood test, my cholesterol was too high; most of the exercise I get is running up and down the steps at work, or striding (I don't merely walk if I'm by myself) up and down the halls, or scooting my chair around behind my desk. 

So a more realistic – and demanding – regimen is called for. Still, if I start a 5K, I finish it. Of course, I'd like to finish it on the same day, you know? Just kidding; I do it in about forty minutes, maybe less – although I walk and trudge it more than actually run it, even when I don't get shin splints: my determination is there, but my stamina still needs oomph. But I can't not run. And I know I can do something about my equator, as Dad used to call it. He lost (my guess) fifty-some pounds over just a couple weeks, back in the late eighties; all it took was nearly dying of diverticulitis. My own regimen will be a little less demanding than ending up with a <weak drum-roll> semi-colon. 

Having a Marine brother helps. During my last run in that Pennsylvania town (that's that one last October), he circled back around for me, and started using his best drill-instructor encouragement… but kindly and encouragingly, and more than once I got my speed back up. And that was a 10K, the first I'd ever tried (been running these things, on and off, nearly ten years). 

So, sure, I'd like to be hardly more than half the man I am now. This will be difficult, and I will not set my sights that far down the road, so to speak. Today first, then tomorrow, then next weak – I mean, week.

 

Roll-Playing: I Kid You Knot

Brother! This blogging business is becoming more and more a weekend thing. Well, I do have a life beyond these words you're reading, and several other megs' worth that precede these here. And said life does exist, despite insistences to the contrary – e.g., daughter Shelly (just turned twenty-four; must have snuck a dozen or more years in on me when I wasn't looking) has a degree in Psychology; says so right here on the vellum. This makes her academically certified to determine and diagnose that I have no life. I've yet to prove otherwise to her… although that doesn't motivate me toward life-demonstrativeness (on her terms), either.

Those dozen-or-more years, by the way, are only superficial; case in point is that she just now called me from an unknown number, and asked me if I could roll my tongue. "No," I said, naturally. "Okay," she answered… and hung up on me. 

Twenty-four is not too old to be a brat. No, not my tongue – but my eyes roll back quite nicely, Shell.

 

"...is risen toDAY-ay, ah-ah-AH-ah-ah le-he-lu-hu-jah..."

It's already well into the evening of Easter Sunday, and time keeps running faster than I can throw events into it on the way past… Likewise, I have even less time, lately, to fill in URLs, correct some spelling and formatting errors, etc., over just the last week or two here.

Today saw a good chunk of the family meet up for Easter dinner at my sister's home across town (my other sister, and her husband, live in Boston, with their first child on the way; Dad should have lived to see this). My younger brother and one of his daughters are in Thailand on Spring break (the other daughter is attending college in Australia, her mom's home-country). My sister's two teen kids, and husband (plus a couple cats and dog) were there, too, plus one of my daughters, and my harried mother.

My older brother joined us, too (late as always); as with the past several months, he brought along his regular companion, my sister-in-law-in-law… which isn't a typo; she's his late, Korean wife's sister. (The three of us did a 10K together, Choggun Nu-Nim and I walking most of it, last October.) First thought of the two of them is one of shock… but with Lee dead now over two years, Brother needs to be happy, and this is the closest he'll ever be to having that wonderful, strong woman still in his life. And they're grown adults.

But enough of this raucous family; given today's momentous events (minus almost 2,000 years) are deserving of more space and meditation here… and my attention is already drawn away, given the remaining things I want to nail down tonight before bedtime.

The historicity of Jesus is beyond question; research into historical writers beyond reproach will show that such a man lived, and died, around the time we acknowledge (~4 BC to ~30 AD); that he had followers whose numbers, within a generation, had multiplied to nuisance-level – at least from the viewpoint of the Roman overlords and the subjugated Jewish leaders. (They may even have instigated the Jewish revolt of 70 AD, which was brutally and utterly crushed by the Romans, and resulted in nearly nineteen centuries of heart-wrenching diaspora.)

There's evidence of Christians in Pompeii (in or before 79 AD), and Christian burials in or near Jerusalem as early as 41 AD. At some point later I'd like to give some references to these details, although even casual research on the 'net will yield even more data – e.g., one First-Century Roman writer mentions some hearsay about the followers of a "Chrestus".

It's too easy for the world to judge the founder of Christianity by the lousy, even cruel, deeds of His present-day followers… and you can hardly blame them. (But bear in mind that for every prostitute-patronizing evangelist, every altarboy-hungry priest, every David Koresh… there are many more Mother Teresas, Albert Schweitzers, and so on.)

I don't know the correct quote – need to research it – but I've heard that someone told Gandhi that, given the beautiful, spiritual beliefs that drove him, he ought to be a Christian, Gandhi responded with something like, "I agree, but I've never met one." The meaning, of course, is that those folks bearing the name of "Christian" whom he'd met… had not been living up to the commands and ideals of their own faith. Amen!

But most of the Western world (at least the first- and second-world countries, to use Mao's terminology) has it very easy, with Christianity front-and-center and out of the catacombs and Circus Maximus. Is there any doubt that in its first three centuries, Christianity saw a sizable percentage of its practitioners cruelly tortured and murdered?

A question too-rarely asked is… why did the victims willingly undergo all this? When all that many of them needed to do to save their skins (and some did indeed do it) was kowtow to the Greco-Roman pantheon, why instead willingly allow yourself to be executed cruelly by the state? There was something they valued even more than life, than family; obviously.

I'm not the first to posit this, of course, but let me lay out here that they accepted not only the earliest of Christian teachings on morals and spirituality, but also had every reason to believe that what they'd been told about resurrection was true. The last witnesses to Jesus' death and Resurrection themselves died by the very earliest second century. But they had taught many, who in turn taught many more, and so on; much of this was written down (with and without the imprimatur of the fledgling Church) and preserved from the very beginning. E.g., John the Evangelist (wrote the Fourth Gospel, and the Book of Revelation) died IIRC ~100AD; he taught Polycarp, who taught Irenaeus… and that alone brings us to ~180 AD. In that time, the letters of Clement, and the Didache, were written: these are some of the oldest-surviving writings about Christian beliefs by Christians.

I'm wandering off into the obscure here; sorry about that. But this is but a small sample of what attests to the Christians in their first couple centuries; they were persecuted until well into the Fourth Century; as I recall, just about all of the first couple-dozen Popes were martyred, to cite another example.

They all believed in the physically risen Jesus. One of the earliest writers, Paul, says that "If he did not rise, then our faith is in vain, and we are the most miserable of men, and still lost in our sins, and those who have fallen asleep (in death) are truly dead indeed." The earliest Christians knew that they believed in the unbelievable – and they clung to it so surely that even the threat of being burned alive, torn limb from limb, crucified, shot full of arrows, disemboweled, and so on… that even these threats were not enough to pull most of them away from this belief.

I want to examine, soon, the accounts of the first Easter morn in detail. The events, and the following weeks, affected the participants and witnesses so profoundly that their vivid recollections, handed down by writing and word of mouth over the next few generations, were sufficient consolation and sustenance to see many of Christianity's adherents through some of the worst human-on-human cruelties history had seen.

They weren't all stupid farmers and fishermen and household slaves. Many were intelligent, keen, decisive, educated (this can be seen in the quality of their writings, for instance) – and firmly swayed by the stories and recollections of one Yeshua, son of Miriam, of Nazareth. I repeat: They all believed in the physically risen Jesus.

They were much closer in time, of course, to those events, and they believed it to their very core. So I ask you: what if it's really true?

 

Why Jesus Is More Than Mere Chocolate

I still need to backfill some info from Wednesday's post – more links, etc. – and also put up here my response to Spartacus. I did, Wednesday night, check out several photos of Jesus-as-chocolate. The image itself, I grant, is indeed stark and stirring; the artist has achieved quite an effect by only suggesting a cross by the figure's positioning.

Esthetically alone, I still dislike the image – although I have in mind a particularly horrid crucifix in a Catholic church in Cambridge (Massachusetts) that looks even worse. But the artist of the chocolate Jesus cheapens his work tremendously by his choice of material, and then even further by putting it up in a museum. This just screams to me that he's looking more to jerk people's chains than to engage in art as art.

I'm not, and couldn't be, the world's ultimate arbiter on What Art Is. By definition, we're talking something subjective, and thus varying greatly in meaning and significance from observer to observer. And choice of venue is the artist's, and the venue's. My point isn't whether "My Sweet Lord" moves me inside by nature of its appearance (it does), but – as with that other image of the crucifix drowned in liquid gold – why it was made in the first place… i.e., what drove the artist.

I'm still feeling offended, though thinking it out here has mollified that somewhat. So what causes attractive art to offend? I would suggest at least two things: 1) material/medium and 2) motivation. Is a handmade lampshade valid art if it's made of the flayed skin of a concentration-camp victim? What about that image of the Virgin Mary made of elephant dung?

I submit, and maintain, that other things about a piece of "art" magnify, or obliterate, its cultural/social value. Minor cases in point include celebrities' doodles sold for embarrassingly high prices. How about Andy Warhol's hand-tinted soup cans? I don't find it art; to me it's just something pricey, again, because of who did it. Spartacus and I had a great debate a year or two ago about Jackson Pollock; I still see paint-spatters, and he sees a suffering artist.

So back to Jesus in chocolate: the bigger picture on it tells me I have reason to be offended, and I go on that. I can't detach my esthetic sense and go on that alone; I am more than that facet of myself, and that piece of overwrought confection is more than a mere image of the Suffering Servant.

But I didn't want to talk chocolate this evening; I wanted to meditate verbally on the Good Friday service (not a mass… there was no consecration) I got back home from about an hour ago. This was long (ninety minutes, versus about 60), and deeply moving at a level that chocolate and a urine-filled glass simply can't touch.

I found myself in tears twice. Once, after reverencing the cross (kissing it, in my case) and meditating on Jesus' suffering on our behalf, and again when we sang the stirring hymn "Were You There?"

Though two priests were participating (and another, in mufti, sitting in the pews with us), the service was led by a deacon – roughly this is a sub-priest; he does everything a priest can do, short of Eucharistic consecration, and hear Reconciliations… he can also be married, unlike all but a handful of Roman-rite Catholic priests. He and the servers and the two priests and lectors entered in silence (normally we have hymns as the celebrants enter), and then he prostrated himself at the altar – a sincere and profound expression of humility and reverence that sometimes gives me goosebumps, and is something I've done myself (in private) before the Eucharist, or Tabernacle.

There's a lot of terminology here I need to define in greater detail, and URLs/links I need to add for illustration. But it's getting late, so I'll work at these some this weekend, plus also give Spartacus the response his note deserves, before putting chocolate Jesus to rest. And I'd like to reflect at least a bit on Confession/Reconciliation, and my confessor this past Wednesday – he was the non-collared priest sitting among the congregation this evening, and he's also dying of cancer; this is probably his last Easter.

And… HeyJude sent me an awesome, beautiful PowerPoint presentation featuring quotes by, and images of, Mother Teresa. I'd like to get that up here, too, and possibly add a bit of a meditation on what her words stir up in me. This will also allow me a further test of WordPress's limitations.

Were you there when they laid him in the tomb… 

 

Jesus Christ, Sweet and Sour

Even while I know I have a deepening devotion to my Church, her founder, her Pope and her saints – most especially Mary and Joseph, Thérèse of Lisieux, Pio of Pietrelcina, and John Vianney – I have a sturdy streak of irreverence. This allows me to laugh at some things that might shock or even scandalize the more rigid, or more deeply ingrained, faith of other people. Perhaps in time this will change; but this week I got an especially big giggle at an article relating an artist's juxtaposition of a rocketing-up politician, and my own personal lord and savior.

I was going to just link to the article, but I'd better add the text here, too, in case the article is later pulled or archived. This comes from yesterday's online edition of the Arizona Republic:

Depiction of Obama as Jesus causing a stir

By Nathaniel Hernandez
Associated Press
Apr. 3, 2007 08:33 AM CHICAGO - He wears Jesus' robes and a neon blue halo, looks like Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama and is causing a stir at a Chicago art school.

An undergraduate student's papier-mâché sculpture of Obama as a messianic figure - entitled "Blessing" - went on display Saturday at a downtown gallery run by the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. By Monday, word of the piece had spread on political blogs, and the school had been flooded with calls.

David Cordero, 24, made the sculpture for his senior show after noticing all the attention Obama has received since he first hinted he may run for the presidency.

"All of this is a response to what I've been witnessing and hearing, this idea that Barack is sort of a potential savior that might come and absolve the country of all its sins," Cordero said. "In a lot of ways it's about caution in assigning all these inflated expectations on one individual, and expecting them to change something that many hands have shaped."

Obama's campaign worked Monday to distance the Illinois senator from the artwork.

"While we respect First Amendment rights and don't think the artist was trying to be offensive, Senator Obama, as a rule, isn't a fan of art that offends religious sensibilities," said Obama spokeswoman Jen Psaki.

Cordero said the school had fielded plenty of calls about his work, "some of them from angry people." He also said he had heard from a few potential buyers.

Bruce Jenkins, dean of the art school's undergraduate program, said response to the piece - part of a student exhibition - has been mostly positive. He said people should take a close look at the sculpture and the context it was created in before judging it.

"When you see it, when you spend time with it, you understand that it's not a provocative work at all," Jenkins said. "It opens a set of questions."

The Archdiocese of Chicago had not seen the work as of Monday afternoon and could not comment on it, said spokeswoman Dianne Dunagan.

The piece comes amid Catholic outrage in New York that led to an art gallery canceling an exhibit featuring a nude 6-foot-tall, anatomically correct chocolate sculpture of Jesus Christ.

Artist Cosimo Cavallaro said Saturday that he has received threats as a result of the sculpture, called "My Sweet Lord." Cavallaro said the controversy spurred "thousands" of e-mail messages from people offering help, donations and exhibition space.

Here's a picture of the artist and that work.

So after skimming the article and grinning at the picture, I sent out an email to select friends and associates of similar ilk (and a couple conservative Protestants, just to gauge response):

Subject: Obama? Oh, Mama!
Importance: Low

I think it's funny, myself – not offensive. The artist has found a dramatic way to underscore a good point. (It's the one in New York I have a problem with, myself – although that one's title is a real yuk, I'll admit.)

Regards,

AgingChild 

The first response I got was from Spartacus:

Sent: Tuesday, April 03, 2007 7:06 PM
Subject: Re: Obama? Oh, Mama!

Hmmm...why do you find the one offensive and not the other?

So I answered:

Sent: Wednesday, April 04, 2007 8:56 AM
Subject: RE: Mama, Don't Let Your Boys Grow Up to Carve Chocolate

Good one, O gadfly!

I think it's my sense of modesty, first. Though Jesus was crucified sans every scrap of clothing (as was typical of this form of Roman execution), the sight of him so depicted would be a bit much for most people today… certainly including yours truly. So the first level of offendedness – reactive – is here. Likely I'd react similarly to parallel displays of Muhammad and Buddha.

The next level, and broader, centers on the reasonable question of: Why in an art gallery? Knowing that such a portrayal would offend many viewers for the above reason, it seems to me that the artist may well be looking first to offend, rather than merely make a point (i.e., Jesus is just like one of us; see Joan Osborne's song). That is a poor prime motivation for art, if I may scoot out on this limb a bit further. I would think that an artist creates a piece (of whatever medium) because, first, s/he is moved; and, second, because s/he wishes the viewer to be moved (cf. La Pieta sculpture, Goya's painting of the execution of Spanish soldiers, etc.).

If you want to offend, just stand out in front of the museum in a trenchcoat, blowing a whistle and showing the world. Or take a dump (pardon me) right there on the front steps.

What touches the world – and beyond the circles of Christianity – about Jesus is his humility, his message of peace and compassion, and his willingness to sacrifice himself as the utter fulfillment of the Jewish teaching of the scapegoat. The focus is on his healing ministry, his preaching of love and forgiveness, and his cruel death… not his divine doodads.

Because this portion of one's anatomy is ordinarily sequestered from public viewing, its glorious, in-your-face display will always immediately seize one's attention. Christotheologically speaking, vis-à-vis the chocolate sculpture, this pulls our focus from the man's message to his humanity – which is okay so far as it goes, since it reminds us that, though divine in nature, Jesus was also equally human in nature. But to do this in such a graphic fashion jarringly numbs the mind and heart that ordinarily would look at and reflect on the purpose of his ministry, leaving us no more than gaping a-gaga at the gonads… especially since we're so accustomed to viewing the man enrobed.

I repeat that I do like the title of that piece, and the artist gets a few points back for that reason. But if he'd wanted pun-value alone, he could at least have sculpted, say, the Last Supper. If he wanted to offend, he's certainly done that. But if he wants us to focus on the non-divine aspect of Jesus, he's succeeded there too. However, that could have been achieved by a picture of him laughing, or even picking his nose.

Hot on the heels of that one, I had to send Spartacus this followup:

Sent: Wednesday, April 04, 2007 9:39 AM
Subject: RE: Ars Longa, Vita Brevis (Mors Profunda)

I'm still not fully satisfied with my answer; we're going to have to blog it.

What I didn't answer on my first pass was the first half of the question: why doesn't the Obama image offend me? The answer is that it is obviously a caricature, and so is created out of humor (underscored by using a neon halo). The artist's twin points – that this isn't Jesus, and not to put any leader (or leader-in-waiting) on a grand pedestal – comes through clearly without slapping me in the face.

Some less-flexible folks – worshippers either of Obama, or of Jesus, or both – would at least be rather annoyed, if not truly offended. Me, I still think it's funny.

I also meant to cite some other offensive works, in my previous email – e.g., most especially the notorious "P!ss Christ" photo that is at once truly beautiful and utterly repulsive. I support the right of both these artists to shock, and to mock. But I have my esthetic and spiritual sensitivities… and it seems that so many fringe artists aim for that Achilles tendon first. And the fact that it's specifically Jesus and Christianity that they're almost exclusively targeting is in itself rather troubling. Besides the two suggestions in my last email, if they want merely to offend, they could also beautifully render a scene of a retro-Mormon raping children, say. Or of Jeffrey Dahmer preparing supper. Why don't they? Why not my relatives gloriously aflame in their Dresden basements? How about a candy sculpture of the garroting of Atahualpa?

Jesus is for me a role model, a rescuer, and a brother. You attack him (again, this seems to be a direct objective in too many of these cases), and you can't expect me to be unaffected, or merely moved appreciatively by your esthetics.

Here in this country you are entitled to create and produce art, and open-minded enough private institutions are entitled to put it on display… and I endorse and support these rights. But those rights aren't the most supreme, and there are things of far greater individual and personal value even than the free expression of esthetic impulse. 

This nation, too – cradle and crucible of these wondrous rights – will someday, inevitably pass; ditto this spinning globe, and ultimately the curl of galaxy that enfolds it. There are beauties and esthetics that will endure as long as our universe; the power behind them awes and inspires me, and the seeming "need" to thumb one's nose (or use a different finger) directly at a mortal's most sensitive area… is insignificant and meaningless on that scale.

On reflection this reduces, for me, much of that offense – and also yanks from under the artist any smug position that his/her "art" is as rich in value as tonight's starscape. Pass.

Spartacus must have run out of metal to mill, or wood to plane; he fired back:

Sent: Wednesday, April 04, 2007 12:01 PM

Fair enough bro, I didn't realize the "Chocolate Christ" was nekkid. I can understand how that might offend. You lay out a number of very good points explaining why you found that offensive. I can empathize.

OTOH, Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel depicts nude biblical figures--are they offensive too? Artists of the Renaissance in particular routinely depicted the Christ child naked, and I also recall several images of Mary suckling baby Jesus at her naked breast--yet these works (including Michelangelo's) are widely venerated throughout the Christian world (I seem to recall the Vatican owns some of these "racy" works. hubbah-hubbah--NOT!). I believe these nude images are meant to convey sweet innocence, humanity and beauty--not prurience.

I did an extremely quick and cursory Google search under "classical nude Jesus" and found at least one reference to a pre-Renaissance master "Pisano" whose depiction of a nude Christ is one of many treasures in the cathedrals of Florence, Italy. I wouldn't be at all surprised if a more sustained search effort turns up more nude Christs which have ruffled nary a hairshirt.

Is Michelangelo's work (and other biblical works by the "Great Masters") not offensive or somehow less offensive because of the artist's reputations, or because they worked in more "accepted" mediums such as oils and marble? Or is it because their motives were clearly intended to glorify God and the chocolatier's motives are less clear? Is it a matter of era? Was it somehow more acceptable to depict nudity back in the 1400's than it is today (and if that is so, what does that say about our so called enlightened values?)

I visited Cavallaro's website and viewed "My Sweet Lord" (it is a mighty tasty title!). I didn't find it offensive at all--it depicted Jesus in all his humanity and vulnerability. Even the choice of chocolate is something people like/love/desire/value--it's certainly less offensive than the depiction several years ago of Christ in IIRC elephant dung?

That same quicky websearch (and another under simply "nude Jesus") turned up tons of references reporting people's objections to Cavallaro's chocolate sculpture. Isn't this vociferous intolerance and hatred being expressed toward this work of art akin to the same type of intolerance and hatred we find so reprehensible when it issues from the mouths of Muslims?

I don't know what Cavallaro's motives were (are)--as I stated previously, taking his "...Sweet Lord" at face value, it doesn't seem at all offensive to me. Even if his motives were less than pious, instead of venting all sorts of spleen in outrage over it, wouldn't it be more fruitful to explore the reasons for his arguably less than flattering depiction of the Christ? Again, isn't this automatic and vehement rejection of something we interpret as offensive exactly the same criticisms we level at Muslim fundamentalists?

IMHO, Christians, whatever their church, creed, sect, denomination, etc, have a LOT to answer for to the rest of humanity and to God (if you believe in a judgmental God). Instead of frothing in outrage over this ultimately-inconsequential-in-the-larger-scheme-of-things artwork, it would be far more productive to take a good hard look at the motives, actions, effects and legacies of their religion, in both historic and contemporary contexts. Perhaps an artist makes a less than pious image of Christ to call attention to grievances and injustices committed by Christians. Instead of shooting the messenger, how about trying to listen to the messenger's message? Provocative art is not meant to provoke only anger---it's meant to provoke the beginning of a thought process, and hopefully maybe some reasoned dialog. Unfortunately, all too often it only provokes outrage from those who are inclined to shoot first, and to not bother to ask any questions later.

Oh, and if anyone thinks I'm unfairly targeting Christianity, I'm not--the same criticisms apply to virtually all other religions I'm aware of. Also, lest anyone think I'm being critical of Jesus, I'm not--I make a distinction between the Divine, which is perfect, and religion, which is man-made, and therefore susceptible to all the failings and corruptibility of human beings.

It's time to wake up, people, and start using that lump of gray matter between your ears.

Spartacus

More tomorrow; I want to respond to Spartacus here.

(Yo; Sparks: could you please track down Pisano's depiction of Jesus and send me the URL? I want to link to it, so my three other readers might get to see it as well.)

 

Ben There, Dunned That

I didn't make it to Reconciliation (aka confession) on Saturday, but I did this evening – and just got back here at home less than half an hour ago. As I said on Friday, it's impossible to describe, but rest assured that this is a real and truly profound experience of soul and spirit and mind. I'll add this sacrament to my list of promised blogs, so I can tackle it on a content-poor day. It is both humbling and – to borrow a word from The Simpsons – embiggening.

Check out the comment at the very bottom of my previous post; Spartacus shook my hand, yanked the thermometer out of my mouth, gave me a boot in the rear (and that's not a size 7 boot he wears, either), and shoved me back out onto the praying – er, playing – field… when I really want to gaze at my navel some more and continue internalizing this evening's experience. Well, so be it. Pox vobiscum, Sparky! Just kidding. 

Sitting next to punster Ben has been an entertaining experience… and probably a foolish mistake of the corporate director who allocated cubicles: putting us together is like adding, oh, a hefty dollop of glycerin to a big beaker of nitric acid – or perhaps slamming together two barely subcritical radioactive masses. ("Mass" being quite the apt word for me, for several reasons.) Or he may have been wise in keeping us confined to one area... and just outside his office.

Actually, Ben-ster doesn't need instigation from me; for example, the bits and pieces of his telephone calls that I hear often have me shaking my head in bafflement… with a question mark over my own head as to whether I might sound a bit the same. Cases in point: 

Ben, on phone; very friendly voice – he's just noticed his voicemail light is on: "Is that you on my voice mail?" [pause] "It is?" [pause, then sincerely:] "Do you want me to give you a quick call?"

For this next one, bear in mind that the gentleman is an attorney by academic training, though currently he functions as a bit of a liaison between our corporate department, and vendor companies who assist us in some of our internationally focused work. He turned forty last year, has a very boyish face with a hint of chipmunk-cheeks, hair parted on his left – basically very clean-cut and conservative-looking. However, that's just camouflage. 

We're also both blandly Caucasian. (Yours truly looks like John Ritter (just before his death in 2003) with a mustache – plus goatee in Fall and Winter. There is a slight out-of-kilter look about my eyes, but I hardly look in tune with the world at large anyway… a state of withdrawal that I am, in fact, beginning to achieve in reality. I, too, seem harmless.)

Ben, on phone: "As Tone Lōc said, 'Let's do it'." [pause] "What song was it?"

Me, unintentionally eavesdropping: "'Funky Cold Medina'." Wrong. I am so hopelessly white some days; it's "Wild Thing". 

Besides a bowl or two of good chocolates on my desk, I also keep a small stash of flatware in one of the drawers (plus cups, napkins, some drinks, chips, etc.) for those times I forget to bring some with my lunch, or someone else on our team does. Last week Ben came by and admitted he didn't have all the cutlery he needed for eating his lunch. Spoon, yes; knife, ditto. But –

So I handed him his missing item. Ben admitted, "I fork-got mine." 

"Well," I fired right back, "that'f very knife!"