Thursday, September 28, 2006

Ben Franklin and Boiling Toads


We’ve been studying Ben Franklin in my junior English class over the last few days, and the more I read, them more I like him. I like him because, for a man of his time, he was especially honest about himself – honest about what he considered to be his virtues and his vices. We read today about his “virtues chart.” This was a chart, an 18th century Excel spreadsheet if you will, that he tried to use to reach moral perfection. Two things about this are striking: 1. That he thought that he was capable of reaching perfection, and 2. That he gave up on the chart fairly quickly. I like the first point because I, too, believe that, although a man may never become perfect, he can at least improve himself; I like the second point because I, too, think that man it’s foolish to waste a lot of time trying to overcome habits or qualities, that while morally imperfect, can still be ingratiating and fun – like mild intemperance or venery, for example.

If you didn’t know, Franklin also wrote Poor Richard’s Almanac, a collection of aphorisms that he either heard from others or came up with himself. Here are some of my favorites:

Fish and guests smell after three days. (Just ask my parents. I’m sure that my month-long stay last summer almost killed them.)

Three can keep a secret if two are dead. (This was modernized by Tom Cruise when he said, “I’d tell ya’, but then I’d have to kill ya’.”)

Love your neighbor, but don’t pull down your hedge. (He’s probably peeking in your back window.)

But my favorite Franklin quip is from the Historical Review of Pennsylvania, 1759 and goes like this: "They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety."

I’m not one to say that our current situation in the world isn’t dangerous. It is. But what price are we willing to pay to secure our safety?

It’s natural to look at another country and think, “They’re out to get us.” I’m sure that some of them really are. And when we hear Condeleeza Rice’s warning about the potential “mushroom cloud” or the president going on and on about the “axis of evil” powers intent on doing us in, it’s easy to feel that it’s our duty as Americans to give of what we have to ensure the country’s security. In this case, what we have is our civil liberties. To protect ourselves from our would-be killers, we give up our protections from our own government. It seems like the logical thing to do. After all, our government is made of good, god-fearing men and women who would use that power only to do good and would never think of abusing it, right?

My argument against this can be summed up in a brief list of names: Stalin, Pinochet, Hitler, Hussein, Mao, Castro, etc., etc., unfortunately ad nauseam.

American is not immune to the political and social forces that allowed men like this to rise to power. Just look at Karl Rove, for god’s sake. Think that it can never happen here? Don’t be naïve. All of these men were handed power by a citizenry who trusted in them to use that power wisely and for good. In this respect we’re not different from the rest of the world; a hunger-for-power-and-the-potential-for-the-abuse-thereof gene lives in every race, in every country including our own beloved land of the free.

A little story that I don’t believe can be attributed to Franklin (but is still, I believe, relevant to my point) concerns a toad and some hot water. The theory goes that if a toad were to jump into a pot of boiling water, it would quickly try to jump right out again. However, if one were to place the toad in a pot of cool water and then turn up the heat little by little, the toad wouldn’t realize that it was getting hot until it was dead, bloated, and dancing around in the boiling water.

Immigrants targeted, jailed, or deported regardless of any relation to terrorism . . .

Teachers fired for remarks made against the incumbent president . . .

A government itching to nix the Geneva convention bans on torture . .

Illegal government wire tapping . . .

Election fraud . . .

“Enemy combatants” jailed permanently recourse trial . . .

The founding fathers, Franklin among them, set up the government the way they did – Bill of Rights and all – because they knew that any government allowed to abuse its power will abuse its power.

How hot are we going to let it get before we jump out of the pot?

Sunday, September 24, 2006

When George Became Dubya


When Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks told a London audience about her shame that George W. Bush is from Texas, I got upset. How dare she say that when, in fact, he’s from Connecticut? Contrary to the popular belief that has been largely fueled by his public persona, George W. Bush is not a Texan—or at least he wasn’t born one. Rather, throughout his life he worked to develop his “Texanness” through a hit or miss sort of process, adopting as his own a hodgepodge of the fine qualities that true Texans share, but also many of the stereotypes that make us both famous and infamous. Twang by twang and swagger by swagger he became less the New England blue blood, George, and more the cowboy, “Dubya.” As a Texan, myself, I can readily imagine young George’s first images of the state and how they have affected his politics. Here are a few imagined “Texas” entries in Little George’s diary:

When Dad drives through town, he waves at people and they wave back. They didn’t do that it Connecticut. When we moved in, all the neighbors stopped by with food, and when I stopped by Bubba’s house, his mom invited me to dinner. These Texans are really friendly.

Even those who hate his policies have to admit that Dubya is basically a good guy. If he still drank, I’d have him over for a beer. His smile and warm demeanor, the trademark pat on the back and verbal ribbing (the way that he calls journalists “stretch” and “little stretch,”) have helped him to paint over many of the black marks on his presidential record, for example, an unwinnable war in Iraq, or the unconstitutional detainment of “enemy combatants” in Guantanamo Bay. Who can focus on that trivial stuff when he’s serving up Thanksgiving Turkey to our troops or Top-Gunning onto an aircraft carrier to boost troop morale? A little Southern hospitality goes a long way.

Wow, there’s another church. You can’t throw a rock around here without hitting one. We said the Lord’s Prayer before the game today, and my teacher made us raise our hands if we went to church last Sunday. She said if we didn’t, we’d probably end up in Hell. Texans are really religious!

Texas remains a state still obstinately “under God,” and, outside of Austin, it’s best not to admit to any doubts as to the existence of “the Lord” in the Judeo-Christian sense. In Texas, churches tie communities together, and I double-dog dare you to drive down any main street without bumping into a couple of them. Of course, Dubya didn’t start out as the “born-again” that he is today. (That would contradict the concept of being “born again.”) Instead, he grew up like many other Texas boys his age – drinking and smoking, driving his truck, playing pick-up ball, and fishing. Not until after the drinking and drugging and hitting rock bottom did the prodigal son come home. After receiving a potentially career / life-ending D.U.I. in Maine after running his car into a bush (a bush, not another Bush) he returned “home” to Texas and got “saved.[i]” And just as those not born in Texas fall for it harder than those who were, born-again Christians are often more feverish than most other Christians. God now walks by his side and, in fact, the extra set of footprints in the Galveston sand leads all the way up the east coast to the White House. Now Dubya heads-up pre-meeting prayers. Attendees wear a tie (males only), just like in church. His faith has led him to ban stem-cell research, to crusade against abortion rights, to appoint an Attorney General so religiously conservative that he spent 8000 taxpayer dollars to cover the one bare breast on the Spirit of Justice statue, and to endorse faith-based social programs, a move that could tumble the already crumbling wall between church and state. [ii]

What a slow game of basketball! Guys kept calling their own fouls. I left my wallet in the park, and some guy brought it back -- cash and all! People always want to shake hands when we make a deal. These people are really honest.

Texans’ greatest strength can also be our greatest weakness. Because we are honest and expect honesty in others, we open ourselves up to deception. In a word: Enron. Enough said. Honesty, though prevalent in small towns and communities, doesn’t extend to the political arena or the “good ole boys” network (which are largely one and the same.)

The Florida recount provides a case in point. A true Texan, more honorable than power hungry, would have allowed the process to move forward, regardless of the outcome. Dubya, in a small-town sense, probably struggled with this one, but sadly, the scene was national and the prize political. Since another Bush just happened to be governor of the state, and the lady calling the punches, the Florida secretary of state, Katherine Harris, could be classified as a Republican pawn, perhaps the pressure to play dirty just became too great.

Iraq is another great example. Dubya made the case that Hussein had WMD’s either hidden or in the works and a hot line directly to Bin Laden’s secret bunker. Of course we weren’t interested in the oil. Pshaw, he told reporters. Why would we want the oil when the war is going to cost us more than we could ever recover in oil revenues? But any true Texan should have enough horse sense to see through those whoppers. Isn’t it more likely that Dubya just went after the man that tried to off his daddy? Wouldn’t you if you had the U.S. military in your holster? Sure, it’s costing us a fortune to be there, but it’s not the oil companies that pay. They’re just raking in billions off uncontested government contracts like the one that Halliburton got. The good ole boys strike again.

Unfortunately for him, one man saw a lie for what it was and blew the whistle. When former Ambassador Joseph Wilson nuked the idea that Saddam had tried to purchase Uranium in Niger, the good ole boys went after his wife, a CIA operative, ratting her out to the press, thereby endangering her and any other agent who might have been associated with her. While Dubya says that he wants to “find the leaker,” there’s been no news yet. So much for calling your own fouls[iii].

Everybody asks me if I’m George Senior’s son and then treat me like I’m their cousin or something. The guy at the store didn’t even make me pay for my Coke. Bubba let me into his tree-house gang even though I didn’t know the password. I bet I could work this angle.

Texans work hard and we admire the man (or woman) who lives large. We take pride in being self-made, in providing a good life for ourselves and our families. We’d all have a ranch if we could afford one. There remains in Texans something of the cowboy spirit—the urge to ramble, to be free and independent. And if a ranch is out of our price range, most of us can at least budget in an SUV.

Well, Dubya lives larger than most. Not being born a Texan, perhaps he felt that he had to make up for it by buying a ranch and a major league baseball team. He looks good chain-sawing cedar. Very Texan. In fact, more Texan than about the other 99% of us. See, most of us weren’t born into the kind of wealth that the Bush’s enjoy (and always will, thanks to Dubya killing the inheritance tax.) I feel that it’s important to note that while Dubya has garnered a modicum of success in the last few years, he’s had some advantages that most Texans don’t. For example, he didn’t attend Midland High. He attended Andover, an elite New England private school. Despite a mediocre performance there, he was, not altogether surprisingly, admitted to Yale (his father’s alma mater, go figure). Later, despite a score of 25% on the entrance exam, Dubya became a fighter pilot with the National Guard, thereby avoiding a stint in Vietnam. Yes, he owned (and bankrupted) some oil companies, but certainly hadn’t bought them with money he earned working summers. In fact, before becoming governor of Texas, he hadn’t done much besides run unsuccessfully for a congressional seat. So, while the ranch is nice, and I admire the sweat, I’ve got to remind myself that Dubya didn’t exactly pull himself up by his bootstraps.

Everybody around here wears boots, so I asked Dad for some today. They’re real nice. Make me look taller and walk a little different. (Is this what they mean by “moseying”?) The men don’t talk much unless it’s about huntin’ or fishin’ or fixin’ the car. Back home, we had people to fix the car for us, and wash it too and take care of the lawn. Everybody here takes care of his own business. These Texans like to go-it-alone.

Texas was a country before it was a state, by God. Nothing is as iconic in the Texas mentality as the lone wolf, the Texas Ranger, the desperado, the cowboy who rides in and fixes all the problems with a six-shooter and minimal chatter. In fact, one of my personal heroes is Augustus McCrae from Lonesome Dove. (I think that one of Bush’s personal heroes must be Col. Call.) Nothing irks a Texan like having to ask for help or admit defeat. Dubya really nailed this one . . . unfortunately. Finding himself in the seat of a superpower, he quickly decided that we didn’t need any friends. If you want something done right, do it yourself; everyone else will just screw it up. Why endorse the Kyoto Treaty just because the rest of civilization does? We don’t need them. I’ll bomb the hell outta’ global warming. Anti-Ballistic Missile pact with Russia? Why do we need that when we can pay my buddies a bundle for a Star Wars system that will (in theory, at least) protect us from Putin’s little red button? The United Nations? Bunch of French-smellin’ pansies. We’re going to Iraq whether they like it or not.

I’m starting to feel a little less homesick every day. I got my new buds to take care of me. I get free cokes. I’m in the tree-house club. Nobody makes fun of me for talkin’ slow anymore. I think I’m going to like this place. No more “George.” I’m a Texan now. Y’all can call me “Dubya.”




[i] Balz, Dan. “Bush Acknowledges 1976 DUI Arrest.” The Washington Post 3 May 2000. <http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/wp-dyn?pagename=article&contentID=a4085-2000nov2¬found=true

[ii] “Justice Department covers partially nude statues.” USAToday 9 January 2002. <http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2002/01/29/statues.htm

[iii] Malveaux, Suzanne. “Bush consults private attorney over CIA leak probe.” CNN International 3 June 2004 http://edition.cnn.com/2004/ALLPOLITICS/06/02/bush.leak/

Note: I wrote this in the summer of 2005, but after reading it again myself, I’m amazed at how much still applies.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

The U.N. Rub


It’s easy to bash the U.N. I mean, here’s a club that just about anyone can join. You’ve got your democracies, your communist parties, your fascists, your quasi-terrorist organizers all sharing the same dance floor and supposedly trying to “get along.” (Taiwan, notably can’t join, but that’s another story.) How can you take seriously an organization whose members, when deciding on how to keep the world at peace, routinely vote their own interests – fears, biases, religions, pocket books, etc. -- over what is “right”? Moreover, it can be argued that it’s largely ineffective, at least in the area of keeping the bad guys in line. On the other hand, it is effectively a soap box for every wacko world leader wannabe who wants to bash the U.S. while waving around Noam Chomsky books. All in all, it’s really a dreadful entity.

But here’s the rub: What are our alternatives?

Winston Churchill said, “Democracy is the very worst sort of government – except for all of those others.” He meant that despite all of democracy’s shortcomings – the pork-barreling, the pandering, the corruption – it’s still the best system that has been developed to date. If we don’t have democracy, then what are we left with? Answer: Something worse. So from that perspective, let’s examine some of the purposes that the U.N. serves (although maybe not so well).

Although the assembly might be a place where even the worst kind of people get their say, at least they’re talking and not bombing. So what if they like to badmouth the U.S.? There are worse things that can happen. Sticks and stones. Let them blow off their steam. Leaders are always harangued just like even the best boss is occasionally lambasted by his employees. At least the bad guys are using a forum where we can keep our eye on them. It would be facetious to say that nothing good comes out of the talks. In fact, any talk tends to be good talk. Imagine the world like it was at the beginning of the 20th century before the League of Nations when European countries squared off against each other just to see who was tougher. A big part of the problem was that there existed no forum for communication. In some way it was easier to fight it out than to talk it out. If you don’t communicate with your enemies, it’s easier to maintain the belief that they’re faceless monsters who want to eat our children. You might say that “talk is cheap” and that we should stick our foot up the ass of whatever country threatens us. I would point to Iraq and say that you’re right: talk would have been a lot cheaper than the mess we’re in there.

The idea that the U.N. is ineffective carries a lot of water. Of course the U.N. is largely powerless. The U.S. helps to keep it that way. An organization like the U.N. can never be greater than the sum of its parts. President Bush bashes and undermines the U.N., then complains that it’s ineffective. Go figure. It won’t be powerful until we make it that way by supporting it with both our words and our dollars. To those who complain about trusting in the U.N. or sending them our money, I say this: It would have been a lot cheaper in lives and currency to have trusted Hans Blix over the warmongers and oil companies. Again, we have to use our imagination: what would the world look like if the U.S. acted as a role model for the rest of the world by truly supporting the U.N. mission?

I can understand some of the arguments against this; for example, why would we want to grant too much power to an entity that could one day come to threaten us? Why would we want to support an international court that could possibly try some of our very own as war criminals? I wouldn’t put that kind of trust in a body that is so clearly influenced by the political interests and wacko’s mentioned above. There are serious, potentially fatal, limitations. On the other hand, there are serious problems with the alternatives. War is expensive in lives, money, and environmental impact. I, for one, would rather listen to Chavez rave for an hour than send my children to war.

The rub keeps on rubbing. The U.N., if not broken, is at least seriously flawed. Should we disband it? No. We might as well just rev up the nukes. Should we reform it? Yes. Take what we’ve got, support it, and make it work. It will never be perfect. No governmental body is perfect – or even close to it. Unfortunately, for the moment, it’s the best thing – the only thing really -- that we’ve got.