Not Yet A Buddha

“But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.”
I Have A Dream

“A true revolution of values will soon cause us to question the fairness and justice of many of our past and present policies. On the one hand we are called to play the good Samaritan on life’s roadside; but that will be only an initial act. One day we must come to see that the whole Jericho road must be transformed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed as they make their journey on life’s highway. True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it is not haphazard and superficial. It comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring. (…)

We are now faced with the fact that tomorrow is today. We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. In this unfolding conundrum of life and history there is such a thing as being too late. Procrastination is still the thief of time. Life often leaves us standing bare, naked and dejected with a lost opportunity. The “tide in the affairs of men” does not remain at the flood; it ebbs. We may cry out desperately for time to pause in her passage, but time is deaf to every plea and rushes on. Over the bleached bones and jumbled residue of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words: “Too late.” There is an invisible book of life that faithfully records our vigilance or our neglect. “The moving finger writes, and having writ moves on…” We still have a choice today; nonviolent coexistence or violent co-annihilation.

We must move past indecision to action. We must find new ways to speak for peace in Vietnam and justice throughout the developing world — a world that borders on our doors. If we do not act we shall surely be dragged down the long dark and shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight.

Now let us begin. Now let us rededicate ourselves to the long and bitter — but beautiful — struggle for a new world. This is the calling of the sons of God, and our brothers wait eagerly for our response. Shall we say the odds are too great? Shall we tell them the struggle is too hard? Will our message be that the forces of American life militate against their arrival as full men, and we send our deepest regrets? Or will there be another message, of longing, of hope, of solidarity with their yearnings, of commitment to their cause, whatever the cost? The choice is ours, and though we might prefer it otherwise we must choose in this crucial moment of human history.”
“Beyond Vietnam“

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OK, in an effort to lighten the mood around here, I’m posting an open thread on nonpolitical phobias. What do you irrationally fear? I know I should not admit this in a public forum, but I have a near paralyzing fear of whales. There. I’ve admitted it. Whales scare the bejesus out of me.

I think I always knew this, but never having encountered a whale, it didn’t become clear until I watched the Japanese film Dr. Akagi. There’s a scene where a man and woman row out into the sea in a tiny row boat and there’s this amazing aerial shot of a massive whale swimming right below them, dwarfing them. I nearly had a seizure, and even now, just visualizing it makes me shiver.

My friends find this highly amusing. After all, whales get really good press overall. There’s "Free Willy" and "Save the Whales" and Shamu…but I’m telling you, it’s just not right. Nothing should be that much larger than I am.

There’s a scene in 20000 Leagues Beneath the Sea where Captain Nemo opens the portal covering in his submarine and you can look out into the deep abyss. As a kid watching that film, I nearly freaked out during that scene. I used to think it was the wide open space I was afraid of, but now I believe it was simply a sense that "that’s enough room for a whale to come along in."

This will prevent me from ever taking up scuba diving seriously. Even now when snorkeling, as I love to do, if the distance between the ocean floor and the top of the water becomes, er…well, whale size, I have to turn back. I just know that if I stay, merrily enjoying the adorable (i.e., smaller than me) marine life around me, I’ll bump into this wall that I swore wasn’t there a moment ago, and just as I being to explore the barnacles and bumps on its surface, the really large one will open to reveal a giant eyeball as big as my whole head and I will die right there, on the spot. I can’t explain it.

Feel free to scoff…but only if you offer your own phobias first.

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Until now, I have not been the tiniest bit tempted to comment on the sexual harassment suit against Bill O’Reilly; even now, all I really want to say about it is ‘ugh.’ (And: why did he have to talk about felafel, which I quite like but will now be unable to think about, let alone eat, for the foreseeable future? It took me long enough to forget what Monica Lewinsky did with perfectly good Altoids. Why can’t all these annoying people pick on foods I don’t like, like lima beans?) But Richard Cohen has written a rather obnoxious op ed about it in the Washington Post, which I do want to comment on.

Just for the record: obviously, I have no idea whether or not the allegations against O’Reilly are true. If anything I write seems to suggest otherwise, that’s inadvertent. I am concerned with Cohen’s views about sexual harassment, not with the facts of this case, whatever they might be.

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Warning: relatively longish and somewhat wandering thoughts on Jacques Derrida*

There are cultures or individuals who believe that via various means of magic other people can capture/control/immobilize one’s soul or at least one’s subconscious. We’ve all heard of the “primitive” tribe that won’t allow themselves to be photographed or the way a lock of one’s hair in the hands of a certain Neapolitan potion maker can be used to direct one’s affections. Less famous perhaps, but just as outrageous, is the story of how Jean-Paul Sartre supposedly sapped the French writer Jean Genet’s ability to write novels via his brutal psychoanalysis of Genet in what’s now billed a “biography”: Saint Genet. The legend goes that upon reading the manuscript in Sartre’s apartment, Genet was so outraged he threw the pages into the fireplace. The text was still eventually published (and makes for riveting reading if you’re into that kind of thing), but forever afterward Genet (who never wrote another novel) blamed Sartre for stealing his novelist soul, for revealing his secret literary device and thereby neutering him.

I was obsessed with this story in my younger days. Was it possible? Could someone peer so deeply into another’s mind that they could find the “off” switch and shut them down? As an individualist, this struck me as the most horrifying of powers, and I spent years reading Freud and others to try and find a defense against it. I’ve since calmed down quite a bit, none the least because Edmund White, who later wrote the definitive biography on Genet, told me that there was more myth than truth to the legend. According to White’s research, Genet had already exhausted what he was able/interested in doing in the novel format (though he went on to write many plays and poetry) and used the Sartre book as an excuse. Genet was not at all allergic to a touch of melodrama, you see. Further, adding to my comfort is the fact that much of psychoanalysis, as it existed in Sartre’s day, has been debunked.

This all came rushing back to me when I read the New York Times’ obituary on the Algerian-French “father of deconstruction,” Jacques Derrida. He was 74.

Derrida was infamous for his nebulous writings, but he was nearly as enigmatic at times when he spoke in public.

As a lecturer, Mr. Derrida cultivated charisma and mystery. For many years, he declined to be photographed for publication. He cut a dashing, handsome figure at the lectern, with his thick thatch of prematurely white hair, tanned complexion, and well-tailored suits. He peppered his lectures with puns, rhymes and enigmatic pronouncements, like, “Thinking is what we already know that we have not yet begun,” or, “Oh my friends, there is no friend…”

Now it’s difficult to understand, let alone critique the complexity of, many of Derrida’s writings, so I generally cull what I can from them and give him the benefit of doubt on the rest (I first read his two-columned comparison/contrast extravaganza on Hegel and Genet—Glas—as part of my research on the “neutered” writer). But why he would be so “nuanced” when speaking in public (yes, there’s a potential political tie in here if you look for it…but I’m a bit too lazy today) struck me as gratuitous.

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Eugene Volokh asks whether liberals are moral relativists, and suddenly moral relativism is popping up everywhere. So I thought I’d chime in too. The quick answer is: no, there’s no connection between being a liberal and being a moral relativist. For the longer answer, read on.

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I like to boldly split infinitives as much as von. But I write in praise of another grammatical antihero—the passive voice.

It’s just so useful. It can defend the indefensible, obscure meanings faster than a speeding bullet, erase responsibility in a single stroke….

(Or rather: defense of the indefensible has been enabled by it. Significant contributions to obscuring-of-meanings and responsibility-erasing related program activities have also been made.)

For example, this:

I also think that the rather transparent effort to use this against Bush — often by people who think nothing of cozying up to the likes of Castro, for whom torture and murder are essential tools of governance — has caused the Abu Ghraib issue to be taken less seriously than perhaps it ought to be.

sounds much better than this:

People are criticizing Bush about the Abu Ghraib scandal. Some of them—I won’t say who, or give any examples—once cozied up to Fidel Castro, or someone like him, or they would given the chance. Therefore, I will not take seriously the evidence of torture by U.S. troops, or the possibility that the Bush administration condones torture.

Unfortunately, my junior high English teachers taught me never to use the passive voice. So I was left telling my mother:

My sister’s room is dirtier and you don’t yell at her! And I was GOING to clean my room, but now I won’t because you’re nagging me so much so THERE!!!” (stomp stomp stomp) (slammed door)*

when this would have sounded so much nicer:

The irrationally hostile tone of your voice, coupled with the transparent neglect of the far greater disarray of my sister’s room, has led the clothes-all-over-the-floor situation to be taken less seriously than perhaps it otherwise would have been.

More seriously, not that Glenn Reynolds will ever read this in a billion years:

People are attacking the Bush administration over this because there is an awful lot of evidence implicating them. They’ve written legal memos justifying torture and unlimited presidential power, one of which was signed by the head of the office of legal counsel. They’ve deported an innocent** men to torture in Syria, based on “confessions” extracted from other men tortured in Syria. The Deputy Attorney General, acting as Attorney General, signed the order deporting Arar. There is probably a “presidential finding” signed by Bush authorizing “extraordinary renditions.” There were no JAG officers at Abu Ghraib, and not because JAG officers were not available. They ignored warnings from the Red Cross. I’m not even going to get into all the incriminating details about Abu Ghraib; see this post for more. They did not apologize for any of this until pictures came out. They still haven’t admitted any mistake that hasn’t been illustrated with pictures. And they still won’t tell the public anything about what they’re doing.

Saying “I’m against torture” is all well and good. But abstract opposition is not worth much, when your response to credible allegations that your government condones torture is to ignore the evidence, blame the messenger, and change the subject.

And if none of that convinces you, I’ve even graciously provided ammunition for an argument that it’s Bill Clinton’s fault!

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Fair warning; do not – I repeat, do not – use the parts of your brain that handle internal visualization for the next few minutes. Shut ’em down; shut ’em all down. We’ll wait.

(pause)

Ready to click through? Good – well, not good. I really do apologize for bringing this to your attention, but better that it show up in a controlled environment. I don’t want anybody to go through what I just did unaware.

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I sometimes give into the impulse to attack the, ummm, no-so-well thought out parts of the blogosphere, and, in the process, completely forget to praise the blogs and bloggers whom I really, really like. The following list is not an endorsement of each view ever presented on the following blogs, nor is it exhaustive. Rather, it’s a list of blogs that I think the blogosphere would be much, much poorer without. And that happened to occur to me in the last five minutes. Do check them out, if you don’t already.

And I continue to be, not yet a Buddha. (Though, this begs the question: Is it Buddha, or a Buddhisatva, whom we’re aspiring to be?)

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