Roy Moore's Lapel
What
has bothered me the most about the Roy Moore thing is not its sexual harassment
aspects, as horrendous as they may be. That has been going on for
years so long as women, consciously or not, try to appeal to men in a manner intended to make them appear attractive or even desirable. Biologically, they do so because
of their inate, basic purpose … the continued propagation of the species, just
as that same biologic sexual urge to ultimately reproduce motivates men to be
attracted to them, and sometimes make unwelcome, even perverted, advances toward them. Sadly, this will never end. In the Western world, the cosmetic and
apparel industries are based upon it.
Elsewhere, religious extremists attempt to deal with it by segregating
and even masking women, hiding their physical attractiveness. Their efforts also ultimately fail. So enough about sexual harassment. What bothers me about Roy Moore, then?
The
man doesn’t understand nor respect the Constitution of the United States. Its First Amendment specifically precludes
Congress from making any laws respecting
an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof. Roy
can profess any faith he wishes because our government does not ally itself
with any particular religion. Roy doesn’t
understand this. That’s why, as a judge, he was repeated chastised for erecting
monuments to the Ten Commandments at his court house. Americans can respect the religious basis for
some of the rights which our government protects, but that religious basis has
no place in our laws. Our Founding
Fathers were mostly men of faith, but ultimately they kept that faith out of
government, despite the efforts of some to include it in the country’s early
years.
Roy doesn’t understand this. Here is a picture of him. Notice what is in his lapel. It’s an American flag hanging from a somewhat
larger cross.
This is different from
similar flag pins which show our friendship with other nations by including,
for example, a Canadian, Israeli, or Polish flag along with the Stars and
Stripes. He may believe what his pin represents but let him keep it in his heart and house of worship; it does not belong along with the American flag. Roy doesn’t get this. Perhaps his devout faith is the reason. That is the same explanation that the Taliban or ISIS give for their behavior. And in Iran, where the nation’s chief Ayatollah is automatically the head of State, it works too. But not here.
Roy can grope and pinch women, regardless of age, all he wants and of course be exposed to legal consequences if what he does violates civil or criminal law, but let him keep his cross in his heart and in his house of worship. He can even wear it on his lapel, but not entwining the American flag. His jacket does have two lapels.
This posting would be incomplete if it did not mention that others in government are also playing fast and loose with the First Amendment's guarantees regarding religion. While less conspicuous in their confusion over the separation of church and state than Moore, the Attorney General and the Vice President, both "religious" men, bear watching.
Jack Lippman
Something to Believe In (Our Annual Thanksgiving Story)
Jack
Lippman
Wang looked up in amazement at the
gigantic balloons which floated down the avenue above the
parade.
Some were in the shapes of elephants and clowns and
characters he recognized from the TV shows he had been watching. And
the music! There were blaring bands from all over the country
interspersed among the floats.
“But, Mom, what is this parade all
about? Who are we paying homage to?” the thirteen year old asked the
middle-aged woman who held his hand tightly. “I remember parades
like this in China, but they were always in honor of the Party or the working
man. I know you have tried to explain Thanksgiving to me, but who
are we thanking? Where are the leaders we should be cheering, like we
did in Tiananmen Square on May Day?
“Wang,” she answered, “We are giving
thanks for having the things which make our life so happy. You know,
the food on our table, our clothes, the nice apartment we live
in. Americans give thanks in many ways, some even thank God for what they
have, but Wang, God personally won’t be part of the parade.”
Max, on the boy’s other side, gave
Louise a jaundiced look.
“Oh,” the boy
replied. But it was clear that he was still
confused. “You mean I won’t be seeing Jesus in the
parade? He’s the one I usually thank for that kind of stuff. That’s
what Reverend Lee taught us to do.”
“No, but if you want to be thankful
to him, you can, Wang.”
When
Louise and Max had gotten Wang from the Mission Adoption Society less than a
month before, they had been told that the Mission people who had taught him
English also converted him to Christianity, once they had gotten him out of
China where proselyting was illegal. One of the things they had
agreed to was to raise the boy as a Christian. Neither Louise nor
Max really practiced any religion. They decorated a tree at
Christmastime, but had never set foot in a church in their entire
lives. Max was born Jewish, but he lacked a religious background and
was totally non-observant. Louise came from a family of
atheists. So, when they paid the $25,000 adoption fee to the Mission
Society, they didn’t object to agreeing to raise the boy as a
Christian. And the Mission people didn’t really care. So
far as Louise and Max were concerned, decorating a Christmas tree and hanging
up a stocking Christmas Eve would suffice for his religious
upbringing. But Wang’s constant questioning was getting to be a
bother.
The
parade was drawing to a close, and the level of tension was
increasing. Wang felt it and didn’t know why, but suddenly,
the final float of the parade came into view. Mounted on a sleigh
pulled by eight animated reindeer, and waving to all, was Santa Claus,
resplendent in his white-trimmed bright red outfit, his snow-covered beard cascading
down over his chest. A loudspeaker boomed out his cries of “Ho, Ho,
Ho, Merry Christmas to All! Ho, Ho, Ho!”
“That’s Santa Claus. I saw him on the TV
yesterday. Is he the one we thank for everything on Thanksgiving?”
This time Max answered him. “No,
Wang. Santa may bring the gifts, but he isn’t the one who gets them
for you in the first place.”
The boy looked puzzled. “If I shouldn’t be thanking
Jesus or Santa for the gifts, should I be thanking you, Mom and Pop?”
“Well, sort of,” Louise replied, but obviously, she wasn’t happy
with that answer and the thirteen year old wasn’t either.
“Look,” he said. “I know you two aren’t Christians,
and until last year, I hadn’t even heard of Jesus. So whether or not
I believe in him really doesn’t matter. I can take him or leave him. But
now you’re telling me that I shouldn’t be thanking Santa
either. This is sort of like what things were like in
China. Everyone used to thank Mao for everything. Now,
that was before my time, but then they told everybody to thank someone else,
and finally, just thank the Communist Party, and that’s what I did in the
orphanage, but that was okay since they ran the place. But who do I
thank here in America? I certainly have a lot to be thankful for,
what with you adopting me and all. I just don’t feel it’s enough to
thank just you two for all you’ve done for me.
My God, Louise thought. Perhaps we should have waited
for an infant, not this boy with his inquiring mind. Maybe he’ll end
up being a scientist or something, she mused.
Later that night, in bed, she turned to Max. “Max, do
you believe in some force that controls the universe, some original cause or
something?”
“Like God, you mean? No … let’s leave it at some kind
of power that started it all, and forget the divinity part of it.”
“You’re more of an atheist than my Dad was, Dear,” Louise
replied. “I’m beginning to think, if only for the boy, we have to
believe in something.”
Max answered, “Well, Miss Atheist, you’re not going to get me
involved with Jesus or back to the smelly old shuls I remember from
Brooklyn. Let’s find something nice and non-religious to credit
everything to, and give that to the kid.”
“At least then,” Louise continued, “He’ll have someone … or
something … to thank on Thanksgiving.”
And so it was that Louise and Max joined an introspective
philosophical group, which met in a professor’s apartment on the Upper West
Side on Tuesday evenings, in the hope of learning some answers to the questions
the boy was raising.
Wang eventually started accompanying them to the meetings, and
perhaps because of his Chinese background, quickly took to what was going on,
and understood the discussions in perhaps greater depth than the adults
there. And he never again had to ask about whom to thank for
the blessings which he received, but he did give great thought to whether the
bounty he shared was indeed a blessing, or perhaps it should be looked at in
another light. He loved to talk about these things with Louise and
Max for hours on end after the meetings.
Louise was very happy with the outcome. Max turned to
vodka.
Vocabulary Growth
One of this blog’s followers brought the following word, which I had never heard before, to my attention last week Here is what Wikipedia has to say about it.
“A kakistocracy (English
pronunciation: /kækɪsˈtɑkɹəsi/) is a system of government which is run by the
worst, least qualified, or most unscrupulous citizens. The word was coined as
early as the 17th century. It was also used by English author Thomas Love
Peacock in 1829, but gained significant usage in the 21st century.”
Feel free to use this word in writing letters to Congress or to the
media. Its users back in 17th century England were probably opposed to Oliver Cromwell who had overthrown the monarchy and had put Parliament in charge. If you cannot manage to guess to whom 21st century users of the word might be referring, just CLICK HERE TO CHECK OUT THE RECENT ATLANTIC ARTICLE which brought this obsolete word back into current usage. "Kakistocracy!" Go for it!
JL
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