Direct your gaze inward...

There has been much media coverage leading up to the one year anniversary of the release of Abdelbaset Ali al-Megrahi, the Libyan terrorist who was convicted of blowing up Pan Am flight 103 in December of 1988. A total of 270 passengers and crew were killed in the conflagration. Numerous groups and individuals have offered their opinions for and against the decision of the Scottish authorities to release this man on compassionate grounds due to his diagnosis of cancer and a reported prognosis of three month’s life expectancy.

This is an emotionally laden topic and it should not surprise anyone that parties on both sides find themselves quite wound up over it. The conflict touches on many issues not directly related to the actual bombing, but nonetheless brought to the foreground by the events surrounding his release and the furor which ensued because of it. What should, in a perfect world, be a simple disagreement over the disposition of a convicted terrorist has become enflamed by a culture clash of long standing which will not be unraveled anytime soon.

All that being said, I am writing in response to a particular set of statements made by Edinburgh’s Cardinal Keith O’Brien during an interview with BBC Scotland. I feel that some of the conclusions the Cardinal made about US culture were presented as if they were facts, instead of his personal opinions, and that he failed to correctly interpret some of the information he presented in his argument – thus rendering his conclusions specious.

Let me start by briefly stating that I have no objection to the Cardinal’s stated opinion that, “…the Scottish government was right to free Abdelbaset Ali al-Megrahi last year on compassionate grounds.” [All quotes attributed to Cardinal O’Brien are taken from http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-10905562] This was, I believe, the thrust of his purpose in giving the interview. He wanted to weigh in on the argument in favor of the decision made to free the man and the reasoning behind that decision.

His next statement did not surprise me. Cardinal O’Brien stated, “…US lawmakers want Scots politicians to explain their decision to a committee, but the cardinal said ministers should not go "crawling like lapdogs".” His is not the first voice to complain about the manner in which many US politicians and officials try to get their way in international conflicts. It is well established that the US government aggressively pursues its agenda throughout the world on a consistent basis, regardless of the particular culture with which it is dealing or the diplomatic history that is shared. I seek neither to deny nor to defend this tendency. I believe that every nation and/or culture has an innate sovereignty and its inhabitants will no doubt chafe when outside forces attempt to bend their governing bodies to their will. This is a natural reaction and Cardinal O’Brien’s sentiments in this regard are completely understandable to me.

The above referenced article continues with, “In an interview with BBC Scotland, Cardinal O'Brien said Americans were too focused on retribution.” My reaction to this was rooted in strong emotion. I’m not entirely sure that I agree or disagree with the Cardinal. Viewing it from the inside out, I would have phrased it differently. I will admit that I am afflicted with a wide spread attitude in the US that it is important to never take any assault “lying down”. It is not only “an eye for an eye” at work here (as the Cardinal alluded to later on in the article). It is, instead, the notion that a bully will continue to terrorize anyone who offers no resistance. However, if, at every turn, you confront anyone who injures you, other bullies will very likely think twice about messing with you. The Cardinal may feel this is not the best attitude and might very well adjure Americans to “turn the other cheek”. I don’t think he would find many converts to that position, however.

So far, I don’t seem to be in any significant disagreement with the Cardinal. However, I do actually have a couple of bones to pick with him. Cardinal O’Brien has every right to argue that American citizens and US officials who object to the early release of Abdelbaset Ali al-Megrahi are wrong in their thinking and/or actions. But I feel strongly that it is important for all parties to have a clear understanding of the difference between fact and opinion. Otherwise civil discourse is abandoned.

My first objection is that he stated that “Americans” were too focused on retribution. Not “some Americans” or “many Americans”. Without some word used as a qualifier, the reader or listener is left to assume that the Cardinal was referring to all Americans. It seems to me that the Cardinal has fallen victim to a failure of logic that many, many others have before him. That failure being the idea that America is a completely homogenous culture and that all Americans think and feel and act alike. There are more than 300 million people living in the United States. It is simply not logical, and frankly rather naïve, to assume that any group of people numbering more than 300 million would all agree on any single issue. Why is this important, you may ask? Isn’t it splitting hairs? Not really. By not recognizing the distinction between a very probably factual statement about the attitudes of some Americans, and an assumed attitude of all Americans, the Cardinal’s statement segues straight from verifiable fact to erroneous and ill-informed opinion – rendering his argument moot.

Secondly, what prompted me to write in response to Cardinal O’Brien’s statements was not actually his assessment of US culture, flawed as it may be, but the reasoning he offered to support it. The article immediately continues with the following which illustrates this reasoning to be defective: "In many states - more than half - they kill the perpetrators of horrible crimes, by lethal injection or even firing squad - I say that is a culture of vengeance…”

What the Cardinal failed to glean from this information is the fact that capital punishment is a deeply controversial issue in the United States and is hotly debated on an ongoing basis. America is profoundly divided over this issue. The very fact that we have come from a default state of capital punishment being universally applied throughout all US territory to that of just “more than half” implies a significant shift in philosophy over the past four hundred years. I submit that this lack of unanimity with regard to capital punishment is itself evidence that the US is not “too focused on retribution,” but is actually illustrative of a nation that continues to struggle mightily over the question of the best way to preserve the peace and ensure the safety of its citizens. A true “culture of vengeance” would not take the time to contemplate the justification of capital punishment. The question would simply not be entertained.

Some may argue that Abdelbaset Ali al-Megrahi is no longer a direct threat to anyone, due to his illness. The Cardinal may believe that this is the case. But many may not have considered the impact that this now seemingly harmless man has had since his [from http://news.yahoo.com/s/dailybeast/20100811/ts_dailybeast/9388_lockerbielovestorychildrenofvictimstomarry], “…abrupt departure from a Scottish prison, which abridged a life sentence for mass murder, [and] was garishly celebrated with a televised hero’s welcome in Tripoli orchestrated by Libyan leader Muammar Qaddafi.”

His deeds have been "celebrated" throughout radical fundamentalist circles around the world. This not only increases the likelihood that someone will seek to emulate him, but also serves to paint the picture that his actions were entirely justified and admirable. All of which results in quite understandable outrage and fear among the friends and families of the Pan Am flight 103 victims.

The article stated that the cardinal said, “…Americans should "direct their gaze inwards"…” -- I would like to ask the Cardinal to look into his own heart and see if he can’t find some small measure of empathy for those who have objected so vociferously to Abdelbaset Ali al-Megrahi’s early release. I wonder if, when he gave this interview, the Cardinal considered the dread and pain and outrage these people have felt since that event almost a year ago. Or did he think only about his own feelings of affronted patriotism? Only he can answer that question. And, as it is doubtful he and I will ever discuss it, I will probably never know.

The bottom line is that most of the outcry against his release has not been based in inflated national pride or some sort of rabid imperialist desire to control the entire world, but in nothing more bizarre and unfathomable than plain old-fashioned fear. That this fear has apparently manifested itself in ways that many in Scotland find offensive is unfortunate, and it would have been better for all parties involved if it were not the case. But I think it is important to remember that fear is a human emotion, and even when US politicians are being completely obnoxious and offensive, they are still human, and are at least as entitled to the Cardinal’s forgiveness and compassion as was Abdelbaset Ali al-Megrahi – even if they aren’t allegedly about to drop dead in three month’s time.

Photo is from the BBC Scotland article at http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-10905562.

Just catching up...

I'm sorry I haven't posted here for so long. I have been busy/distracted/bogged down/lazy and generally have found other things to do. I have occasionally stumbled across a topic I would like to blog about and will probably get around to them eventually.

In the mean time I offer this very brief post just to catch up on things. I have done some walking as discussed in my last post. Although I have not been as disciplined about it as I had hoped. *sighs* But perhaps I will do better in the future. I have lost some weight. The last time I stepped on the scale I had lost 7 whole pounds. Woohoo! I have decided not to weigh myself more than once a month. This is going to be a long haul and I don't want to be discouraged my the natural ups and downs that ocurr in a woman's weight from week to week.

I am in the last quarter of school and working hard on preparing for graduation and getting a real job. *winces* This is a rather scary proposition to me. I don't have that much confidence currently in my ability to snag a job in general. And this economy is in such piss poor condition the odds are really not in my favor. But, again, the future may prove brighter than I fear.

That's about all I have to say at the moment. Take care everybody and stay safe.

Looking for another miracle...

I have been obese twice in my life. I was never overweight as a child or as a teenager. The only time I have gained more than a few pounds was in response to quitting smoking. The first time was when I was 21. (I won’t shock you with the details of how long I had been smoking up until that point. That I will save for another posting.) I was not entirely aware of the weight gain as it was happening that first time. However, about a year after having my last cigarette, I realized that I had gained an unforgiveable number of pounds.

This actuality was brought home to me by a particularly painful incident involving a woman who had pretended to be my friend for a couple of years. I’ll call her ‘Brunhilda’ for the purpose of this tale. We met when we found ourselves sharing an apartment after a mutual friend, Michelle (about whom I blogged last month in 'Lost, but not forgotten...' http://tinyurl.com/yhpe8dm), backed out of sharing the place with me and I needed a roommate to help with the rent.

We remained roommates for a time, and then went our separate ways. During the time Brunhilda and I lived together, other friends commented on more than one occasion that this woman was not a true friend to me. I didn’t pay too much attention to this. Whatever shortcomings she had as a friend did not seem to have much of an impact on me at that point in my life. And, as we hardly saw each other after we ceased to be roommates, it wasn’t that important to me either way.

However, one day, completely out of the blue, I got a call from her. She said she wanted to see me and (somehow) talked me into going up to the restaurant where she worked to visit her. Foolishly, I did. Not long after I arrived she hit me with this tidbit in a very conversational tone:

“Wow, Michelle was right. You did get fat.”

This was not the kind of greeting I was anticipating. I felt the blow on two fronts. The first being that I was abused by two people I thought of as friends. I felt betrayed. I felt like an idiot – a schmuck. The second, of course, being that for the very first time in my life someone had called me fat. That’s not something you forget. Ever.

Years passed before I lost that weight. I’m not exactly sure how it started. But I finally came to a point in my life where I felt good enough about myself to start exercising and eating “right”. I started walking in the park on a daily basis. I was in the process of detoxing myself from the antidepressant Zoloft I had been taking to help me get over a bad case of unrequited love. I would walk through the woods and experience nature while pushing through the light-headedness and woozy feeling the drug left behind as it worked its way out of my system.

Many people ran past me wearing sunglasses and earphones. I remember wondering at the time why they would go to the trouble to come all the way to the park to run when it was obvious to me that they wanted neither to see the wilderness nor listen to the wildlife. If that’s the way they felt about the experience, why didn’t they run in a gym or up and down the street where they lived. People are funny sometimes.

Anyway, over the course of about six months I lost the excess weight. It felt like a miracle to me. I realize now that it was a man-made miracle, not one of divine instigation. Or perhaps it is more accurate to call it a ‘me-made miracle’. At any rate, I felt good about myself. I was mentally, emotionally, and physically in the best shape I had been in since I was a child. I was living strong before that phrase was even coined.

But the years went by and (for some reason that I am still unable to fathom) I started smoking again. And, as before, I eventually quit. Also as before, I gained a lot of weight. Once again, I have waited for a good stretch of time before beginning to lose this weight.

But now I’m ready for another ‘me-made miracle’. I’m fully aware that this time around it may be a bit harder. I am older now and have a slower metabolism. I acquired asthma a number of years back (I was diagnosed after I quit smoking the last time). This can and does interfere with exercising. And, unfortunately, I gained a good deal more weight this time around. But I am tired to the bone of being marginalized by the way I look. I want to be once again mentally, emotionally, and physically capable of enjoying every possible good and wonderful thing that life has to offer me. I want to ‘live strong’ again.

So, athletically shod and full of gritty determination, I venture forth yet again into the ‘wilderness of weight loss’. If you’re a kind soul, perhaps you would be so good as to wish me luck. If you are not such a nice person, have the courteously to wait until I pass out of earshot before laughing out loud.

And if I see Brunhilda on the road... Well, let's just say that the tread pattern on my brand new walking shoes would look very nice deeply embossed on her face.

Photo by Nadir Hashmi
http://www.flickr.com/photos/nadircruise/235855066/

Musings on a leaf...

What is the destination of an autumn leaf? Knowing that it is fated to crumble apart and fall into nothingness, does it care whether it lands on rich soft soil that will drink of its essence gratefully, or on the cold, hard pavement that is neither nourished nor burdened by its moldy remains?

I once watched a dead brown leaf drift in a low breeze and twirl across the road. It was buffeted to and fro in an easy rhythm -- one, two, pause, pause, one, two, pause, pause, to the left, to the right, then hanging in mid air. It finally tumbled head over heels and smacked against the curb across the way. It sank there, and seemed to sigh. Was it disappointed? Relieved? Both?

The inquisitive element of my personality might wonder how this tale of an oak leaf’s end mirrors that of the human experience. I can certainly identify with the sense of being knocked to and fro. Inside each brilliant moment, each loosely linked episode of life experience that constitutes the chain of my days here on Earth, I have often held the belief that I was in control of the direction my life was taking. In the back of my mind, however, the quiet but strangely penetrating voice some might call one’s unconscious, always whispered the truth. I am but a leaf afloat on the breeze.

So the question I have is this: when each of us lights down on our final resting place, will we have found someone who will willingly act as our deep soft soil? Someone to love, honor and cherish us and be glad of our existence on this earth? Or will we be alone and forgotten, fated to be left to the tender mercies of the cold, hard pavement of obscurity? And what, if any, control do we have over it all?

Photo by Blue Stone Graphics http://www.flickr.com/photos/bluestonestudios/1195477131/

If you could only pick three...

You know the old ‘personality quiz’ question,

“What three albums would you take with you on a desert island?”

I recently pondered this and it occurred to me that the question never addresses how it is these albums (presumably CD’s) are to be played. If we assume that a CD player is available, what about a power source? There are no power outlets on a desert island – by definition.

Batteries, you say? Okay. So what happens when they die? Oh, rechargeable batteries. Really? And how will you recharge them? Ah, I see. You will take a solar battery charger with you to this isolated little rock in the sea. Good thinking. Well done.

Right. So let’s take stock of things here. We have your three favorite CD’s, a CD player, rechargeable batteries, and a solar battery recharger. Excellent. We’re all set.

Hmm. But if we’re allowing the use of solar powered chargers, why limit it to batteries for your CD player? I mean, really, is that the only thing you can think of that would be useful on an uninhabited sandbar far from civilization? For that matter, why limit yourself to CD’s? I mean, if you have a reliable power supply, why not bring an MP3 player?

And, yes, taking this line of thinking out to its inevitable conclusion, you would eventually get around to including on this list a satellite phone which can be used to call in a rescue party. This, of course, defeats the whole purpose of being marooned on a desert island so you can choose which three albums you want and thereby give the questioner a glimpse into your personality.

So, after letting this question rattle around in my head for a few minutes I’ve come to realize that the whole scenario is completely asinine. Therefore I refuse to participate in such insipid inanity.

P.S. Ahem… But if I did answer the question, it would be Aerosmith’s first album (1973), Santana’s Greatest Hits (1974), and ZZ Top’s Rancho Texicano: The Very Best of ZZ Top (2004). Just sayin’….


Photo by Jonathan_W http://www.flickr.com/photos/s3a/1357093894/

Lost, but not forgotten...

The following was written in July of 2008:

My best friend from childhood grew up to be a pathological liar, a grifter, a prostitute, and a heroin addict. She became addicted to heroin through the grace and benevolence of her “thirty-something” boyfriend Danny when she was only sixteen years old. From that point forward, there was never an alternative identity available to her other than that of victim with a capital "V".

I wonder what she would have become or accomplished had she never become addicted to heroin. Without that ever-present and overpowering weight to drag around, what kind of life could she have led? This line of thought provoked me to consider all that I have not accomplished. I find I don’t really have much in the way of achievements, and no real excuse for the lack of them. If I have managed to dodge the bullet (addiction and an early death) that Michelle did not, shouldn’t I show a little gratitude and get the hell off of my ass?

I have talent, intelligence, and ambition. The question is, why haven’t I demonstrated any drive? I have spent years feeling superior to Michelle because I had the good sense not to get involved with highly addictive substances (or people). But, really, which one of us has shown more of a “go-get-em” attitude? I know that Michelle expended huge amounts of energy and ingenuity in the pursuit of her fix day after day, month after month, year after year. It makes me so very tired just thinking about it. It makes me sad too.

God, what could that girl have attained if she had spent her life pursuing a passion instead of satisfying an addiction? For that matter, what could I accomplish if I spent my life pursuing a passion instead of satisfying… a sense of self pity?... an inflated sense of entitlement? What? Why haven’t I lived up to my potential? What is my excuse? Is there any?

I wonder if she ever had a dream. I call her my friend, but I’m not really sure that I knew her that well as an adult. We both ‘left home’ a bit early, and from the moment we stepped out the door and into the big, wide world we went our separate ways. We intersected each others' lives for shorter and longer periods after that time, but we were headed in such opposite directions that it was always with a sense of nostalgia and loss that we met. Childhood was over and we both knew it was gone forever.

Even as children, though, I don’t remember her expressing any particular ambition. The reality was that we were both pretty aimless as teenagers. I remember when we took off in her stepfather’s car. We didn’t have a plan, at least none that I recall. I was fifteen, she was fourteen. Neither one of us knew how to drive, but we both somehow thought it was an intelligent idea to steal a car. She wouldn’t let me drive and never gave me a good reason why not. I don’t know if she was trying to protect me from a felony charge, or if she was trying to make some kind of statement to her mother and didn’t want me stealing her thunder.

Either way, it was the last time the world viewed us as equals. The world tended to deal more harshly with her from then on out. She was sent to the rougher “youth facilities.” I went to the more “progressive” places. She was labeled a marshmallow head while I was branded a cabbage head – the idea being that she was vacuous and without merit, whereas I was simply making ‘bad choices’.

For some time now, several months to more than a year, I have had the feeling that she was ‘gone’. Until now, depending upon the mood I might be in on any given day, I have either defined ‘gone’ as doing time, missing, dead, or even in witness protection.

The last notion, that of her being in the Witness Protection Program, tickles me a little. But my consistent lack of faith in her ability to stay clean makes this little fiction improbable. There are, I imagine, rules and procedures that must be strictly observed by any and all who participate in the Witness Protection Program. I don’t think a heroin addict could or would be trusted to walk the line.

If she were merely incarcerated, I don’t think I would have had such a feeling loss connected with her. After all, there is nothing of which I am aware that is so different about a life hustling behind bars than that of one hustling in the ‘free world’. I really question, however, if she had ever been free.

From my perspective, being “missing” would probably feel no different from being incarcerated. Besides, her whereabouts have been slippery and quite impossible for me to pin down since we were still teenagers. Michelle always appeared when it suited her, and disappeared when it pleased her to do so. (I often got the impression that she didn’t want to me to see her at her worst for fear that I would judge her. Sadly, she was right.)

So that leaves death. I have wondered what sort of death this might have been. Quick and violent? Accident or homicide? She used to tell me the most horrifying stories of very near escapes she had from johns who were bent on robbing/raping/killing her. Or was it a slow and lingering illness? Did she waste away in a hospital bed? Alone?

But today, July 1, 2008, I found out definitively that my friend Michelle is dead. I got this confirmation when I stumbled across an internet link to the Social Security Death Index search engine. There I found out that she died on November 24, 2006, the day after Thanksgiving. She was thirty-eight years old.

I am brought to tears when I think of what her last days or moments might have been like. Was there anyone with her at the end? Did anyone care about her comfort or try to ease her fears? Was she buried by the state or did one or more of her relatives bother to give her a proper burial? Was she scared at the end? Or was she relieved? Did she know that, in spite of it all, I still loved her as I did when we were children? Did she forgive me for being so hard on her?

I will probably never know. All I do know is that her energy, perseverance, and ingenuity were squandered as utterly and without mitigation as my talent, intelligence, and ambition have been. She’s dead now. She will have no opportunity to reverse this travesty. Whereas I am still alive...

Hollywood: A Giant Pack of Brats

Have you read about all this “Free Roman” fuss in Hollywood about the arrest and pending extradition of the award winning director Roman Polanski? I have, and it has left me wondering what the hell is wrong with these people. Do they really think a man should get away with drugging and raping a 13 year old girl, no matter how long ago it happened? Are they so enraptured by his talent as a director that they are willing to overlook the fact that he pled guilty to, and was convicted of, raping a child? Do they really think that we all should overlook it? What is going through the minds of all of these heretofore intelligent seeming people that makes it not only logical to let him get away without punishment, but actually imperative that he do so?

These are the thoughts that went through my mind over the last several days. I could not understand how a reasonable human being could think this way. Then it occurred to me that these people might not actually be reasonable human beings – or at least not reasonable ADULT human beings. I realized that these people were like little children who are in the store with their parents and find themselves mesmerized by a toy they are absolutely certain that their parents will buy for them. It matters not that there is no money in the budget for it. It matters not that they have plenty of toys at home and it is neither Christmas nor their birthday. Their eyes are all a-sparkle and their little mouths hang open just a bit and the entire world has faded from view, lost in the glow of their admiration and desire for this fabulous and wondrous thing. The universe is entirely filled with this sparkly and seductive new toy and there is no more room for logic or even a modicum of self control.

They thrust the toy in their parents’ faces and demand adulation of the creature from them as well. Isn’t it shiny? Isn’t it the coolest thing ever? Can they buy it, please, please, please? The hurt and betrayal in their eyes is so palpable that the parent who denies this greatest of all wishes must surely feel like they are abusing their child horribly and unforgivably with their swift and inexorable “no”. The child cannot understand why the parent doesn’t throw logic and responsibility to the wind and surrender to what must surely be their own equally unconquerable lust for this toy. How could they not understand that the child must have this toy or perish? How could they put any other consideration ahead of acquiring it? How could they say “no”?

I concluded then that what I thought had been the cacophony of Hollywood’s elite clamoring to support their dear friend and colleague, had actually been the chorus of enumerable 'inner children' desperately tugging on their parent’s sleeve and whining because Mom and/or Dad had the effrontery to say, “No. You can’t have the talented film director. The cost is too great. If we let him get away with raping a child, we may as well throw up our hands and not try to protect children from sexual predators at all.”

And, like a child whose disappointment makes them petulant and unreasonable, many of Hollywood’s movers and shakers will continue to sign protest petitions and spout nonsense about the why this was not really a crime and/or that it was so long ago, etc. But children need to learn they can’t have everything they want. It makes them better adults and enables them to function more effectively in the world when they grow up. Most of them do learn this lesson. And most of them eventually get over their disappointment, as well.

Eventually Hollywood will too. Won’t they?

Photo by 'Protopito goes to Nederland'