Freedom to Practice Religion

Let's get one thing clear before we begin: I am a Catholic.  My faith has wavered from time to time, but a Catholic nonetheless.  I believe that there is a God, and that God has influence in my life (and by extension other people, whether they believe in God or not).  I try my hardest to follow the Golden Rule (treating others as I would want to be treated), as well as loving and caring for those with whom I share this planet.  My Catholic faith, and the values it has instilled in me, are a large part of the reason I am who I am today.

That said, I have been appalled by how the Catholic and Christian faith is being bandied about during this election season, particularly on the issues of contraception and gay marriage.

What I find most alarming is how people claim that equal access to something is infringing upon the freedom to practice religion.  It is certainly true that Catholics don't believe in contraception, and to ask Catholic organizations to provide contraceptive options to their female and male, non-Catholic employees goes against their held beliefs.  But no one is forcing Christian organizations to act in the public sector.  There are religions that believe this or that to be immoral, and thus remove themselves from those aspects of society.  For example, the Amish who reject a lot of the conveniences of modern society for reasons of morality or religious obligation.  The Amish are free to live and do as they please, but they are not allowed to force those beliefs on others.  If the Amish started providing a charity organization that worked in cooperation with the government that employed non-Amish people, they wouldn't be allowed to demand that each employee behave in a certain way.

The same is true of all freedoms.  I am allowed to own a gun (which, here in Britain, people find it quite alarming that I can just walk into a place, and buy a weapon that can produce instant death; especially in light of recent school shootings).  I am allowed to carry that gun with me to certain places.  I am even allowed to discharge that weapon in specially sanctioned places.  I am not, however, allowed to carry or discharge my weapon in such a way that it infringes on the rights of others.  The same is true of religion.

There is a big deal made about how kids are not forced to say things like "under God" or have a prayer before major school events.  People claim that God is being forced from the schools.  One image that was being passed around on the social media sites suggested that the recent school shootings and other violence in school is because God is not allowed in any more (I searched for the image and found it on this kids blog, which I think is great; the mixed messages are just fantastic).  This is patently untrue.  No one is saying that you can't pray in public, what is true is that you can't force other people to sit through large group prayer as part of a public function.  I was raised Catholic and went to public school until I was in high school.  I used to pray at school by myself all the time.  I used to talk about going to CCD classes with my non-Catholic friends.  I used to talk with my Catholic friends about church (though, not a lot, and usually just to acknowledge that we both had gone).  If I had been more motivated, I could have organized prayer circles with friends so we could pray together, in private.  In sixth grade, we learned about different cultures, and one section was about Christianity.  At that point, I was even allowed to debate, as much as a sixth grader could, the beliefs and doctrines of the Church.  AS PART OF CLASS!

The same is true with all public spaces.  When I was more devout in high school, I used to pray over meals at public restaurants.  I used to play in a church band that would play free concerts in public spaces.  I used to do fundraisers for the Catholic charities knocking on doors and praying with people who donated food stuffs.  No one ever stopped me.  And no one was forced to join in.

But the fact of the matter is, not everyone is Catholic.  Regardless of whether or not everyone should believe in the Christian God (that is another post for another time), these people are all allowed to have the same freedom to practice or not practice as they see fit.  This is why college campuses with have interfaith chapels, and prayer rooms for Muslims.  Would people be so vocal about the freedom to practice religion if everyone had to stop five times a day to allow the Muslims to pray?  Probably not.

This extends to not only practices but beliefs.  Muslims, Jews and Hindus all have permanent religious dietary beliefs.  I notice that the country is not quick to ban pork, beef and alcohol.  The aforementioned Amish don't allow the use of electricity, but no one is going to suggest that the nation go dark just to accommodate one religious belief (plus, my reader base would be greatly reduced, and then fewer people would have opportunities to read about buying pants in Wales).  On the subject of leg ware, there are several sections in the Christian Bible that suggest women shouldn't wear pants or expose their bodies, and some Christian sects follow these guidelines very dutifully:

Deuteronomy 22:5 The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's garment: for all that do so are abomination unto the LORD thy God.

1 Timothy 2:9 In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with broided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array.

However, I don't see former Senator Santorum or former Governor Romney jumping in to say that all pants and kilts be banned nation wide, along with jewelry of any kind, including their wive's collection of earrings and necklaces.  Why?  Because these religious doctrines would infringe upon the freedoms of others (I would love to see how the oil and natural gas companies react if there were an Amish Republican demanding for conservation of electricity and a ban on all cars; it would be fair to say the Amish are the most conservative people in America, so they should make for good Republican candidates...save for that whole isolationism and simple living bit...).

The same extends to contraception and marriage.  It was decided that contraception was legal years ago, and frankly for good reasons.  The biggest being that not everyone finds it morally problematic.  Seven states currently have legalized gay marriage, and again, because not everyone (especially gay people) find a problem with same-sex marriage.  We, as a country, decided long ago that our religious practices were not to infringe upon others basic freedoms.  This is what President Kennedy was speaking about in 1960, a speech that made former Senator Santorum "want to throw up" (ironically, it was because of Kennedy that Santorum is even allowed to be considered for the office of President):

I believe in an America...

• that is officially neither Catholic, Protestant nor Jewish; where no public official either requests or accepts instructions on public policy from the Pope, the National Council of Churches or any other ecclesiastical source;

• where no religious body seeks to impose its will directly or indirectly upon the general populace or the public acts of its officials; and

• where religious liberty is so indivisible that an act against one church is treated as an act against all.

The second and third bullet points are particularly poignant here, and it shouldn't be one without the other.  The full speech is linked above, and every time I read it, I am made happier to be a citizen of a country that gave the world someone like John F. Kennedy.

If those inspiring words, or ones similar from former Presidents like Jefferson, can't convince politicians to back off this issue, then maybe Christian politicians should look to the doctrine they claim to believe in so fervently:

Matthew 6: 1-8

Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them: otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven.  Therefore when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.  But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth: That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly. And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.  But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.  But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking.  Be not ye therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him. 

Academic Courtship

I was given a rare opportunity here at Aberystwyth: to give a lecture to the department (well, really anyone that wanted to come, but most people were from the English department).  This was not as part of a larger conference, or as part of a panel.  This was an hour dedicated to my research.  This lecture was part of the department's Work in Progress series that allows for staff and PhD students to talk about whatever research project is going on.  So far this year, (newly made) Professor Damien Walford Davies, Chair of the department, gave a lecture on literary cartography, and Professor Peter Barry, my supervisor, gave a lecture on place and time in elegiac poetry.  Next week, fellow PhD student, Bill Welsted will be speaking about braided narratives in Welsh eco-poetry.

I was given a spot in the series, and with some trepidation decided to talk about Marvel comics.

The crux of my argument is that Marvel comics tries to keep their stock of heroes relevant by using major cross-over events to examine the role of superheroes in American culture while still maintaining the continuity of the established Universe.  This, I argue, is in stark contrast to DC who generally just erase the more unseemly or confusing aspects of their continuity by either rebooting characters or having all the parallel Universes fight each other.  I argue that Marvel's method of restructuring allows for their character to better reflect the complicated relationship America has to superheroes.  For example, Captain America's brand of blind government obedience is no longer relevant in an America which is riddled with political and corporate corruption.  To make Captain America better represent the new American spirit, they had him duke it out with Iron-Man.  At the end of the fight, where both took opposite sides of a debate regarding freedom and identity, Captain America realized the errors of his ways, and gave himself up.  In this way, Captain America (the character) makes the changes needed to stay relevant (though they did kill him shortly after).

Not the most academic of arguments, particularly in light of those that came before me and those that are to come after.  I wasn't dealing with "great" literature, or Literature.  I wasn't even looking at the arty, gritty black-and-white "adult" comics that people like to bandy about as "graphic novels".  I was doing a cultural analysis of a popular medium, so I was a little worried that no one was going to show up.  And also, it wasn't very well advertised.

But...I wrote what I considered to be an interesting paper, whipped up a Flash animation using Prezi, and prepared as best I could for the Q&A session.

Firstly, to my surprise, it was very well attended.  I was expecting some of the younger academics, and especially my friends, to show up.  But there was also a mess of people I didn't know.  So many people, in fact, they had used up all the chairs, and people were left to squat or sit on the ground (though, to be fair, it wasn't a large room).  Besides the young kids who might read it, there were also three senior members of staff, and two junior members.

Secondly, I was surprised at how well it was received.  There are two big concerns I have when I look at superhero comics in the UK:

1) (and this is a concern that manifests itself in America, too) Comic book fans consider themselves to be experts in comicbook theory.  Let me explain this problem another way: if you were giving a paper on, say, the role of the supernatural in Gothic fiction, only people familiar with Radcliffe and the like would feel like they are experts; not anyone who has ever read a novel.  But with comics, people equate knowledge of a character or series with expertise.  I will be one to admit that I am not well versed in DC after 1985.  I am aware of the stock of characters, the general back stories, and so forth, but I have never been a fan of DC.  That said, I have done research on what Superman and Batman represent as cultural artifacts.  I understand the history of the superhero and understand the role the two play in the development of the medium.  I might not know every story line, but I know more critical material relating to DC and Marvel than most people would.   Many people might know that Superman fought Muhammad Ali, but not so many would be able to articulate why that is culturally relevant.

So, when I talk about superheroes, I am often faced with a crowd that bases credibility on depth of knowledge (and the more arcane the knowledge, the more credible I appear).  There were a few people in the crowd like that who were looking to challenge my argument simply because they knew a lot about DCs recent New 52 reboot.

2) 2000AD and Tank Girl aside, the British don't get into superheroes the way that Americans do.  It wasn't part of their cultural heritage, so that requires me to be very thorough in my explication.  The characters, the history, the major (though difficult to spot) differences between DC and Marvel: these are not part of their vocabulary.

So, unlike with the people mentioned in #1, I have to be more generalized and possibly gloss over some of the intricacies of the character's history (like, for example, I didn't feel it was necessary to talk about all the different side-kicks that Captain America had; or that time when Steve Rogers, and later Bucky replacement Jack Monroe, were Nomad, fighting for the American dream underground-style).  I'm left usually making sweeping generalizations for the sake of clarity rather than make a more nuanced argument that requires a lot of detailed knowledge.

One paper; two audiences.  It's a fine line to walk.  On the one hand, I'd like not to underestimate my audience by overly explaining the essentials of superheroes; but on the other hand, I don't want to get bogged down in a "who's who in the Marvel Universe" paper.

This was a good practice for maintaining that balance, and in the Q&A session, one of my colleagues asked how I managed to keep it all straight.  For that, I can thank the Internet, particularly Wikipedia and ComicVine.

But, this is not really a post about how awesome I am at presenting.  This is a post about "impact".

That's a word that is floating around British Academic Departments a lot these days, and it's not entirely clear what is really meant by it.  By my understanding, it's meant to be the reach my research is to have beyond the walls of academia.  The more impactful your research, the more the general public will be interested, the more the department can shop you around as a commodity.  As I near the end of my thesis, the more I am worried that a structural analysis of comic books is not an impactful thesis.

So, when I signed up for this presentation, and I was asked what work-in-progress I was going to present, I had two options: 1) I could look at how the layout of comics conveys meaning (the chapter I am working on now); or 2) I could look at how the international political influences in contemporary America have influenced the superhero, as well as what that might say about America's understanding of itself.  It seemed the second of the two options would reach and appeal to a larger audience.  I've tried floating my structural work on comics by a general audience and it tends to fall flat, so I thought I would try the second.

I am by no means a historically-informed critic.  In fact, I tend not to know when things are written, but more have a vague understanding of when works came in relation to others.  For example, I know that the Modernist writers were at the beginning of the 20th century and followed the Victorians who followed the Romantics.  I know that Lyrical Ballads came after Shakespeare but before The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.  So, thinking about the way contemporary politics have influenced comic books was a new territory for me, but I feel it went well.  At least people keep telling me it did.  And that's good enough for me.

But most importantly, it went well in front of a sizable audience of my peers and colleagues.  What I hoped to show with this is that I can adapt my scholarly interests to the audience that is going to attend.  For an audience that is interested in narrative structuralism, I can do something a bit more theoretical; a more generalized audience, a more generalized scholarship.

I guess, at the heart of it, I've learned something from superhero comics: you need to stay relevant to the readership that is going to be buying your commodity (in this case, me as a knowledgeable expert in something).  I can do as Marvel has done, and run parallel scholarly arcs that try to wrestle with the changes while maintaining a sense of continuity.  Or I can do as DC has done and reboot my scholarship every few years, totally erasing and marginalizing what has come before.

As I See It

I've spent the better part of these last few years talking about the unfortunate things that have happened to me, and as a result, this blog has tapered off a bit (that, and I am writing a thesis; a little leeway should be given in regards to that).  After all, there is only so much dwelling that one can do on the darker parts of one's navel before one turns completely and desperately inward.

But then I meet Catherine.  And things took a step in the awesome direction.

So, while reflecting in the shower (my favorite of reflection zones), I decided I should enlighten those who aren't familiar with what has happened recently.  Or at least shed some light on us from my unique perspective.

About July, I got an email from a former girlfriend of mine who had read a particularly depressing blog entry and decided that enough was enough.  Maybe so that she didn't have to listen to me gripe anymore, or maybe she was overwhelmed, as she writes about in her blog, by a feeling to help someone too strong to ignore. Either way, she sent me this email, via Facebook:

I know this sounds weird and totally random, but I think you should meet up with Catherine this summer. I haven't spoken to either of you in years, but I just have this feeling.Ok. That's all!

A bit of backstory: this girlfriend and I had what I considered to be a bit of a tumultuous breakup (especially because I was at the tender age of 14 or 15, when all breakups were tumultuous, heart-rendering affairs), and we had only sparing conversations in the intervening 16 years between the breakup and the above email.  An email from an estranged ex-girlfriend looking to set me up with a friend of hers who I vaguely remembered from my time in high school seemed like: a) an elaborate payback for something I did wrong when I was a wee teenager (I was wee, too, in high school); or b) a totally random, nearly blind date set-up that could, at best, be a pleasant distraction from my crippling loneliness, or at worst, be an uncomfortable evening.  I found out from Mo that she had sent a similar email to Catherine.  So I did what all suave, tech-savvy 21st century men do: sent a friend request and then constantly checked my Facebook account for validation.

See: I knew Catherine was given the same instructions from Mo, so I figured I would take the first step and reach out.  Having crossed that threshold, I figured she would email me to say hello and break the verbal ice.  Once my virtual friendship was accepted, and I creepily trolled through all her pictures as one does these days, before I resumed checking Facebook to see when she would take a step closer to me.

And nothing.

Depending on my mood, I claim it was anywhere between a few days to a month or so before I decided to sack up and send her an email (it more than likely was about two days, if even that).  After pining for months on end, I decided to give it one last try; I was going to send a short email to see if we could just talk to each other in a safe, virtual environment.  If there was no response to this second attempt, I was just going to give up, pack it in, pull up stakes in America, and ex-patriate for good.

This second attempt is probably the best decision I have made in some time.  The email, which was quite short, hinted that I read her blog, and that she should continue writing.  I write.  A lot.  So I figured this might be some common ground.  Again, I waited.  But this time, I got a response.  To which I responded.  And on and on and on.  Then, without much warning, plans were made, times set, etc.

Suddenly, I had a date.  Catherine might say that she understood our initial meeting differently, but I want to officially go on record to claim that on our first date we saw Horrible Bosses at the Woodridge Theatre.  July 8, 2011.  I also want to retrospectively thank her for not wanting to see Green Lantern (which was my first suggestion, and which, when I saw it on the plane here in the fall, was terrible).

From those humble beginning (we also shared some food at Buffalo Wild Wings), things began snowballing, one date turned into a second date.  That turned into two consecutive nights of dating.  More emails.  More dating.  Weekends away.  Family to meet.  Less time spent apart than together.  Soon, by the end of the summer, I was seeing her every night and staying up way to late for either of us to be productive.

This, though, was not the plan.  As I had said, I saw it as a date when we saw Horrible Bosses, but I did not hold out too much hope that we would last.  I had done long distance relationship before (in fact, most in my adult life have had some distance put between myself and the woman I am dating), and it never worked out well.  It had worked out disastrously in the last instance, and I was neither keen to make that same mistake, or get put myself in that emotional position again.  I figured this would be a summer fling, something to get my mojo back before I jetted off for sunny, sexy Aberystwyth.  And here I was, September and falling madly in love with another Chicago woman.

We decided to play it by ear and see if we could give this thing a chance.  I'll give this to Catherine: she is one of the few people who I've actually grown closer to over Skype.  She gets up early to talk to me before work.  We talk during her lunch hour.  Then she'll call me when she gets home from work.  Granted, not every day, but without fail, she makes time for me (and I in turn make time for her).  Surprisingly, our relationship was flourish despite being 3000 miles apart.

This is not to say that things have always been easy.  I won't air our dirty laundry on the internet, but I will say that we have somehow made this work through mostly virtual communication.  That, in and of itself, speaks volumes to both our dedication to this relationship; a dedication that made me relax a lot more as things seemed to race towards seriousness.

She came out for a visit in October which was too fast and hectic to remark on much.  It was a last minute trip decided upon when Catherine decided she wanted to see me and didn't want to wait until Christmas.  I was glad she made that decision, because I was missing her equally as badly.  Plus, she got to witness my Glorious Winter Beard in all its glorious wintry-ness.  I like to think that I converted Catherine to a beard lover on that trip.

When I went home for Christmas, I saw her nearly every day, and we even made appearances at each other's family Christmas Gatherings.  It was a chance for our families to spend more time with the mysterious person the other was dating.  After all, I had known Catherine for a scant two months before jetting off to Wales; hardly enough time to get to know each other.

Unfortunately, all this dog-and-pony-ing that we did left little time for us.  It was decided, then, that Catherine would come to visit me, and just me, in London for a week (originally Italy, but neither of us speak Italian, and that could have been just as hectic as Christmas).

Between Christmas and her visit, I had this niggling feeling at the back of my mind that Catherine was the one for me.  Every time this thought popped into my head, I did what every grown man secure in his emotional development would do: panicked and dove into work.  Catherine would occasionally bring up similar feelings, and I tried desperately not to talk about it.  I pleaded that she just accept that I was committed to her, and that things would progress naturally.  I just needed time to think (or, in most cases, ignore the issue entirely).

Honestly, I was scared to become engaged again.  It didn't work out well for me last time, and though I knew Catherine was different, I didn't want to take a similar step that blew up in my face.  I needed time, I kept telling myself.  Time.

And yet, I found myself drifting to jewelry stores when I wandered through town.  In Aberystwyth, most of the jewelry shops have their wares on display in windows facing outside, and I would stand staring at the rings until something would snap and I would run away.  Sometimes, the workers would ask me if I needed help, and I would stammer and walk away like someone casing the joint to rob it.  I was a mess.  I would think about getting married to Catherine, freak out about it, ignore it, find myself outside a jewelry store, freak out again, and repeat.

Sometimes, though, like with Mo emailing me, the Universe reaches out and shoves you toward the right thing to do.

See: I am a practical person by nature.  I like to buy stuff, but I don't like to pay more than I have to.  The weekend before Catherine was meant to come to London, one of the jewelry stores in town put a lot of their engagement rings on sale for up to 50% off.  I actually found myself saying, At prices like these, I would be a fool NOT to buy the ring.  So, with the Universe's boot squarely up my ass, I bought a simple diamond setting that I agnonized over for several days, and then again for about an hour at the store.  You see: Catherine doesn't wear jewelry.  Hardly ever.  So I had no idea what to get her, save the few small hints she gave: not too big, simple, not too showy.

I wasn't sure when I would ask her, but I had the ring.  And that was a big step.  I took it with me to London, figuring if the opportunity presented itself, I would ask her.  I left myself an out though.  I had planned a nice dinner with her, one in which we got dressed up.  Since I was going to be missing her birthday, and because Valentine's Day was earlier in the week, I figured the dinner could count for both.  But, if things were going well, I could also propose.

In short: things went amazingly.  And by Sunday, I was never so sure of anything in my life.  All the anxiety and second-guessing seemed like something I had dreamed, like something vaguely remembered from a past life.  So, after we walked home from dinner, I asked her in the condo we rented that belonged to the former Ambassador to Portugal in Nottinghill.  A perfect ending to a perfect week.

Now, all that remains is the rest of our lives.

Football, Celebrations, Narrative and Cultural Differences

I like the Super Bowl, particularly as I have become something of an expert on American sports among my friends here in the UK.  Not because I know a lot (which I know some), but because I have regularly seen some games, and in one rare instance, I have seen a game live.  And I am the only one in the room who has been within a few hundred miles of an American football game.  Thus: expert.  

But really, the game itself is not so different from any other game.  One team tries to get an object from one end of the field to the other.  American football does this by running and throwing the ball, and occasionally kicking it.  This is essentially true for rugby, though there is significantly more kicking there, and for what the rest of the world calls football, which actually only uses the foot to move the ball, making it the most aptly named football. That aspect of the game is not too hard to grad.  

Even the more minute aspects of the game can be picked up from watching it for a little bit.  The total number of downs, rule violations like holding and roughing the passer, and crucial issues like when a catch is a catch will either be explained by the TV or by common sense.  Oh...so when the guy holds the other guy that's called   holding.  I can be more valuable, as I was this game, when the more bizarre violations come up, like an intentional grounding or a safety.  But even then I tend to just say what the TV presenters would say eventually.  

What I can do is shed some light on the cultural differences between British sports and American sports, particularly football.  And one major difference happens almost immediately in every football game: celebrations/grand standing.  Everything from routine tackles to touchdowns seem to warrant a hyper-masculine display of dominance.  People like Jared Allen and Roy Williams (the receiver who celebrates every catch as if he just cured cancer) are some the worst celebrators.

Now, before everyone gets on me for saying that these sorts of celebrations are an American thing, I know full well that soccer and rugby players are equally as celebratory when they score a goal.  More so, some of these celebrations can border on the absurd.  That said, most soccer players only celebrate when they score a goal, and in most games that is not more than once or twice a team each game.  In football, the American kind, people celebrate after every minor achievement.  If the cornerback disrupts the play, he might pop up and wave his arms around wildly as if to suggest that he would never let a completion happen when he was on the field (regardless of how many times a wide receiver might make a catch).  A safety tackles a running back in the open field and he acts as if such things could never happen (again, despite the previous history of the game).  

Roy Williams, who was on my home team, the Bears, is awful about this.  This year, he had 37 receptions for 507 yards and 2 touchdowns.  That makes him about the 70th best receiver in the game, excluding running backs and tight ends, and his worst season by far.  Some more interesting stats: historically, Roy Williams drops 8.2% of his passes, and he leads the league in this particular category; also, he is the third most unreliable receiver in the game, catching 48% of the passes thrown his way.  And with the Bears, that was no exception.  Despite his mediocre season and piss-poor stats, when he did make a completion, he would pop up off the grass mimicking the first down indication from the line judges.  Seeing a man celebrate performing the task he earns millions to do when he leads the league in not doing that job (and it is assumed that he probably won't) grates on the nerves.  Just what is he celebrating?  Not sucking?  

It raises questions about what is worthy of a celebration.  Most people who don't like or see the value in sports would say that none of these mutant freaks should celebrate being doing something as simple as getting a ball across a line.  After all, what really changed when that happened?  Society is not better, people still die of diseases, our climate is running rampantly out of control, and my iPod can only hold 120 GB.  Scoring a touchdown did nothing to improve the lives of anyone.

I'm not in that camp, and I see some value to sports as an entertainment, and even more so as a means of social narrative.  So the touchdown, for my interests in the game, serve as important narratological moments, indicators of when the narrative shifts.  However, not everything that happens is significant.  When discussing note taking and high lighting, my college professor Mark Willhardt used to say that when everything is highlighted, nothing is important; that is, when you suggest that everything is worthy of attention, then nothing is singled out as being important.  The same rule should apply to football: when you make an important play, one that changes the nature of the game...then you can celebrate.  Sack a quarterback for a ten yard loss on third and one?  Celebrate.  Sack a quarterback for no loss on first and ten, when two plays later his team is celebrating a touchdown?  Well...that celebration seems a bit premature.

This, though, brings us to the heart of the issue: narrative suggestions.  I like to consider all of football to be one massive narrative construction.  Each aspect of the game is like telling a story, and the celebration is included in that.  What the player is saying with his celebration is not that what he just did is important in that moment, but that what he did is important for the outcome of the game.  An historical inevitability that will eventually culminate with several other similar celebrations to cap off the narrative of victory that was started with that first every-day tackle in the open field.  What the middle line backer is saying when he sacks the quarterback and does a stupid dance is not just that he is proud of what he's done, but he is foreshadowing the eventual celebration at the end of the game.  Sometimes, the opposing team will buy that narrative and succumb to the psychological trickery.  Other times, and as is often the case with people defending Roy Williams, they will wait for him to screw up again, and change the nature of the narrative being written.  

Maybe if soccer games had to end with a winner and a loser, there might be more reason to celebrate the smaller things.  With the option of a draw, what is the point of foreshadowing a mutual non-win?  There is a certain competitive drive that stems from telling a story of victory and leads to this type of display, and a situation in which a draw is possible just doesn't foster that competition.  Not that soccer players aren't as competitive; it's just a different story being told, and one most Americans are not keen to watch unfold.  

There was one other thing my British friends didn't understand: the Giants were crowned the World Champions when they won the Super Bowl.  For a league that doesn't even have a team outside the US, this seems like a spurious claim.  Baseball and basketball at least have teams in Canada to give the thinnest veneer of World Wide Competition.  But the NFL is only American, and purely American.  Until the NFL is global commodity, and with the possibility of expanded games in London, it might be more of a possibility, tit is a little premature to call the Giants the World Champions.  Even if we can assume that, with no other possible teams and little interest, the Giants would mop the floor with everyone else (hell, probably even the Seahawks could do that), that claim can't be made until the Giants have bested all the world's competition.  When that happens, and I hope it will be in my lifetime, then there will be reason to celebrate.  

I Really Hate Newt Gingrich

I'm just going to flatly say it outright here: I hate Newt Gingrich.  I've been charged with coming down too hard on the Republicans, so I want to say this first: I don't hate Newt Gingrich because he is a Republican.  I hate Newt Gingrich because he spouts the sort of hate rhetoric that validates the terrible thoughts and feelings for which closed-minded people need to be chastised.  In short, I hate Newt Gingrich because he makes it okay to be a bull-headed jackass.  He's a bully.  He's mean-spirited.  And he's given a national platform to give the other mean-spirited bullies a voice.

Let's look at this article from today's Huffington Post regarding gay marriage.  Gingrich has been on this soap box for most of his campaign.  He can't seem to wait to talk about it when asked questions in the debates.  He takes a hard line on it, often referring to it as counter to the foundations of civilization.  He's quoted as saying such in the above article: "The effort to create alternatives to marriage between a man and a woman are perfectly natural pagan behaviors, but they are a fundamental violation of our civilization."  This is more than just suggesting that same-sex couples violate his understanding of morality; he claims that they violate the basic foundations of civilization (and, actually, anyone who is not Catholic/christian does so as well).  In this quote, which can be read in all it's inflammatory context in the Huffington Post article, connects heterosexual marriage to the founding principals of modern mankind.  For Gingrich, the Bible and heterosexuality is what got the lone hunter gathering early man to form societies.

There are a lot of problems with this statement, and I actually have a lot to do, so I won't waste your time in pointing out too much of the obvious and dissecting all the places Gingrich is clearly mistaken.  I will say, though, that there was a lot of same-sex goings-on in the works of Plato.  Gingrich might want to read Phaedrus or The Symposium before he claims that civilization is founded on heterosexual marriage. 

The point I want to make here revolves around something that is truly at the center of America: the right to Free Speech.  America has long stood firm on the issue of Free Speech.  Newt Gingrinch is constitutionally protected when he spouts this sort of hate rhetoric, as was Sarah Palin when she posted pictures with Democrats in cross-hairs shortly before one misguided person attempted to assassinate a Democrat in public.  Anyone is allowed to say anything publicly so long as it does not directly incite riots or is not blatantly false.  Both of those things are hard to prove, so really, most anyone can say anything in America (well, so long as you don't upset the large corporations or Wall St. - then you get pepper sprayed for saying what you want).

Free Speech is not constitutionally guaranteed in the UK, and I am starting to understand why.  There are laws on the books here for inciting hatred and inciting violence that would have taken both Gingrinch and Palin out of public eye.  It might be that the Freedom of Speech is a responsibility America is not capable of handling.  

The problem with Free Speech is that words have lasting and far reaching effects.  Now, while Gingrich certainly never claims that anyone should do anything to a gay person (much like Palin never said to shoot Gabby Gifford directly), what he is saying is that gay people are not part of normal society.  And as a public figure, and apparently a more popular public figure than I had previously suspected, his complete condemnation of gay people validates those same beliefs in less level-headed people.  Much in the same way that profiling institutionalized racism, making loud claims about homosexuality being abnormal in human civilization allows for people to continue to think that these Americans are not real Americans (or good Americans, or even real or good people).  Sometimes when people feel strongly about something, and they lack that little voice in their head that stays a violent hand, people will act out.  There certainly are enough bullies terrorizing gay people as is.  Gingrich might as well have patted them all on the head.

These sentiments are hard enough to take from Santorum and Perry who both came down hard on gay marriage.  Both, though, have remained faithful to their spouses which suggests that they take their marriage vows seriously (at least publicly).  In the end, their message is consistent with their upbringing, and as abhorrent and oppressive as these beliefs are, there is nothing inherently hypocritical about it.  Santorum and Parry walk the walk of their insanely moronic talk.

Gingrich, though, has extremely dubious personal morals, especially when it comes to marriage.  Besides being unfaithful several times in all of his marriages, he divorced his first wife while she was recovering from surgery in the hospital.  Because he was having an affair.  With a younger woman.  WHILE SHE WAS IN THE HOSPITAL BEING TREATED FOR CANCER!  According to former aids, Gingrich has said, "She's not young enough or pretty enough to be the wife of the President. And besides, she has cancer."  Gingrich, though, denies saying it.  He has claimed, and rightfully so, that those were mistakes of a younger man.  That argument would hold water if he did push for another divorce after cheating on his second wife.  And then to go on and claim this: "There's no question at times in my life, partially driven by how passionately I felt about this country, that I worked too hard and things happened in my life that were not appropriate."  So his infidelities were not because he lacks strong moral character; his infidelities are because he works too hard for the country he loves.

Three wives and two divorces; both divorces stemming from infidelity.  All of this from a supposed Catholic.
Now, I am no expert, but the Catholic church doesn't allow divorce.  Part of their core doctrine is that the sacred sacraments are binding for life (that whole "Until death do us part" bit in the vows which Gingrich should remember, having said them THREE times).  The Catholic church has been adamant about this for some time.  In fact, Henry the VIII forced the Church of England to break from Roman Catholicism so he could divorce his first wife, and that was in 1533, 479 years ago.  This is not a new belief.

I was livid about this earlier when I talked with Catherine.  I was furious that Gingrich was bullying Americans on the public stage, and gaining support in doing so.  Catherine laughed about it, saying, "At least he's the one saying it.  I mean, he has no leg to stand on.  When he comes out against gay marriage, he just looks like an idiot, and these statements seem ridiculous."  I hope she's right.  I hope that most people are smart enough to see the inherent flaws in Gingrich chastising homosexuality for violating the sanctity of marriage while he figuratively takes a steaming dump on that same institution.  But I have less faith in humanity.  I worry that when mean people hear their closed-minded views advocated, that's when people feel compelled to act on their beliefs.

TSA, Terrorism, and Sen. Rand Paul

Senator Rand Paul, (R) Ken., was recently detained at the airport by TSA agents, delaying his trip by an hour and a half and causing him to miss his flight.  Because of this, Sen. Paul, son of Presidential candidate and Republican Senator from Texas Ron Paul, has been hitting the media outlets to talk about dignity in travel and how, for frequent travelers, such "invasive" search procedures as full body patdowns and physical inspections of clothing items, seem almost draconian (my word, not his).

As a frequent traveler, and one frequently stopped by TSA agents, I can understand Sen. Paul's frustration.  I don't fly nearly half as often as he does, but I go through Heathrow and Ohare regularly.  However, I fully and adamantly disagree with Sen. Paul's solution.

In short, Sen. Paul wants "selective risk assessment" for "international travelers" and "people with ties to terrorist organizations".  There is another term for what the Senator is suggesting: profiling.

There are a lot of connotation justly associated with profiling, and Sen. Paul was smart not to use that term.  It suggests an institutionalized form of racism where TSA agents could just search someone not because they have "terrorist associations" (though, that term was loosely bandied about in the wake of Katrina to disastrous ends; read the book Zeitoun by Dave Eggers for more on that), but because they seem terrorist.  The government has come under some fire for how loosely they apply that term, and how Americans, innocent American citizens, have been held without a trial simply because someone thought that another person might have associations to terrorists.

The question, then, is how does a TSA agent, or the Department of Homeland Security, identify terrorist suspects?  How do they separate what Sen. Paul calls "normal Americans" from those that should be searched?  Interestingly, Sen. Paul has come out against the previous and current administration's unilateral power to profile and detain citizens.  In the above video, Sen. Paul questions the legality of using such factors as physical features or purchase histories as determinations.  So, again, how are these determinations made?

The problem with saying that only some people should get searched is that it creates a distinction between privileged people and those whose privileges have been suspended for some reason.  Of course, TSA full-body searches are not nearly as undignified as sitting in the back of a bus  or separate bathrooms, but there is a parallel that can be drawn.  After all, as Sen. Paul has said himself, these searches are undignified.  His suggestion for selective searches is a suggestion only to apply these indignities to certain people.

That is oppression, and oppression is always ugly.  Be it the oppression of same-sex couple who are denied marriage, the oppression of the poor by tax laws that favor the wealthy, or oppression of citizens who happen to meet whatever qualifications raise the suspicion of terrorism: you cannot deny one section of the population rights while allowing those same rights to another.

Sen. Rand Paul might benefit from remembering what every grade school teacher has told every student who has brought candy to class: you either bring enough for everyone, or no one gets any.  If the TSA decides that searches are necessary to prevent further terrorist attacks, then everyone should be searched (or, as it is done now, randomly from the entire populace).

He is right, though, that there are hundreds of stories of mistreatment at the hands of TSA agents.  Strange searches on the elderly and babies, people in wheel chairs, the terminally ill, and so on.  It would seem that his outrage and claims of indignity are justly leveled at the TSA.  What Sen. Paul fails to realize, though, is that the terrorist are not playing by any set rules.  For every story about a random search of a pregnant woman at an airport, there is a story about how bombs were strapped to pregnant women.  For every child's toy torn to pieces looking for bombs, their are bombs sewn into children's toys.  If a terrorist wants to get at America and America has a policy of not searching the elderly, it is likely the next attack is likely to come by way of an elderly American.  If the US stops searching citizens, then the terrorists will infiltrate American citizens.  In short, if the TSA decides not to search a certain segment of society, it stands to reason that would be the access point which the terrorists would use to gain entry to airplanes.

I have no problem with the searches (though the TSA agents could be nicer about it; no need to be surly and invasive), and I have been stopped and searched on about half of the flights I take.  It comes with flying alone on international flights, usually on one-way tickets.  I was pulled out on my Chicago to Seattle flight for a random full-body pat down.  My luggage is often opened and rifled through.  And honestly, I am fine with that.  For one, I don't have anything to hide.  Secondly, if there is a terrorist in line somewhere, and there are random searches, it might act as a deterrent - certainly more so than no randomized searches.

Of course, if Sen. Paul doesn't like being searched, he doesn't have to fly.  He could drive (or be driven) from one destination to the next; or if taking public transport is important, there are trains and buses available from most major cities (in fact, maybe the good Senator could throw his weight behind high-speed train travel...I have some ideas for that).  Flying is not a right, but a privilege - one afforded to Americans who can afford the price of the ticket.  These privileges come with a cost beyond the sticker price, and with air travel, that hidden fee is a possible search.

Finally, and maybe what I find most ironic, is that the small-government advocate is essentially saying that we need more government regulations of air travel.  After all, someone (or something) would need to make the determinations about who gets onto the frequent flyer program, which travelers should raise flags, and so on.  The more specialized the criteria, the bigger the governing body is going to be.  And if security is given to the private sector, where each airline is responsible for security, you can expect even more delays, price increases (someone has to pay for this added security, and the corporations certainly aren't going to dig into their own pockets to pay for their customers safety; and a frequent traveler program would not be free either - the ability to get around searches would come with a price), and if history has taught us anything, worse treatment (after all, look at how well  the banking, housing and other corporations have behaved unregulated).

Of course, since Sen. Paul lands squarely in the "haves" camp, and none of this would concern him.   He would have the tax payers of Kentucky pay for any increases in flight cost, claiming that air travel is part of his job.  This is what I find most troubling about Sen. Paul's reaction to his search: it is baldly elitist.  His outrage over the search is not because of the indignity faced by the average American; it was that he, a Senator, was forced through these same indignities.  He's just a "normal" American, after all.

The Long Road Home

I'll say it: I don't mind flying.  I genuinely prefer flying over, say, driving cross country (though, that said, the right road trip can be a good time).  If the destination is important, and not the journey, I would prefer to fly.  Even short trips, say between Chicago and St. Louis, would be better off as a short flight.

A lot of people that I know, particularly in my family, would rather drive, citing lack of control as a problem.  It is true that when I fly, I have to leave when there is a flight available.  My entire trip is at the behest of the airline pilot (and of course, the weather), and nothing I can do will ever get me there earlier or later.  While this lack of control might bother some people, for me it removes any responsibility for the trip.  Because, really, if I can procrastinate on something, I will (for example, I'm writing this blog even though I need to go grocery shopping, do some translation work, and eat...).  

Besides the lack of responsibility, while I am travelling by plane (or train, even), I am left to do what I want.  It used to be nice to drive because I could blast my music and have a little rock-and-roll party while travelling.  But now that I have an iPod, I can do that while standing in line for customs (which I did, and I will talk more about in a minute).  I spend more time deciding what books to bring with me than I do on clothing for the trip. I have often forgotten to bring my toothbrush on trips, but I never forget to fully charge my DS.  For me, an eight hour plane ride (and leaving from here, the five hour train journey), is eight hours (plus five for the train) in which I can read and play video games without feeling bad about avoiding work.  

In short: unadulterated freetime.  And as a man who sets his own schedule, it's a luxury I am often, ironically, lacking.  See, when I have time off from my thesis, I pack it full of translation work looking to make financial ends meet.  Once I finish work, I get back on the thesis horse, and whip that pony until it collapses just past the finish line.  Repeat.  But on the plane and train, I can reasonably play Mario Kart (as reasonably as a 31-year-old man can play a game system for children) and read science fiction novels (as anyone familiar with my GoodReads account knows, I did, in fact, finish Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, quite happily).  

That said, I can see why people hate flying.  Even though I like flying, the noise of the trip can grate on my nerves, particularly on long flights.  I know that some people will play white noise to help them sleep, but a constant low hum, like someone is vacuuming in the apartment next to yours for eight straight hours, tends to put my nerves on edge.  I don't find constant white noise soothing; instead, it's like someone is sanding on my eardrums with a cheese grater made of jersey knit.  Sure, it's soft, but rub anything on anything for long enough, and it gets annoying.  

And, if you fly alone like I do, the Russian Roulette game of seat neighbors can be pretty obnoxious.  I've gotten pretty lucky, and in more than one flight, I've been the only one in my row.  But, just as often, my row neighbor, as he was in my Heathrow - Ohare flight, is a massive, vile person.  There are a lot of ways that people can be vile, and in this case, his vileness was not his own fault, but it still doesn't change the fact that he was vile.  I can take talkers (headphones) or even fat people (I don't take up much room, as is).  But what I can't take is someone who smells.  

I've never understood how they could have a smoking section on an airplane.  It's a circular system, sealed and with limited oxygen.  No matter how far away you get from someone smoking, you are eventually going to breathe the same air.  Even in first class, beyond that magic curtain that separates the airline royalty from us plebeians.  The same is true of someone who, riddled with a stomach bug, keeps crop dusting (thanks Kiernan) the entire coach class.  Granted, his illness was not his fault, and it did keep him in the bathroom for long stretches of time, including when we ate - all good things.  But when he came back, the sour smell of vomit, and the downright choking odor of...well...backdoor vomit was hard to take.  Couple that with his size, causing him to back into our row of two, pointing his still smoking gun at me, and I suddenly could sympathize with other people's hatred of flying.  

I was rewarded, I feel, for my calm sense of endurance by getting my own row of two on the ride back, blessedly with arm rests that went up, so I could curl into a little ball and lose myself in Mario Vs. Donkey Kong: Mini-Mario Madness.  Again, though, most blessings come with an asterisk: my seat was the last in the row and shared a wall with the toilet.  Luckily, only one person used that closet to dispose of what I could only assume was a dead badger, judging from the smells.  For most of the ride, that bathroom was too far away for people to think about.  

Another thing that helped was the harsh turbulence we experienced on the flight, which left a few scant minutes for people to get up and move around.  We were moving, of course; every time the plane suddenly dropped a few feet, or felt like it was snatched from the air by a curious Godzilla, I felt my heart stop and my stomach drop, as I am sure most everyone else did.  But no one dropped much out of their seats.  And since I was alone in my row, I was okay with that.  

A big complaint that people have with travelling is the lines: lines for security, lines for customs, lines to get on the plane, etc.  There is a lot of pre-boarding time spent in the airport, but I feel that, if prepared, these lines aren't too big a deal.  For one, don't try to smuggle things past security.  It's no surprise that you aren't allowed to bring liquids with you past security, so don't go and buy a six-dollar gallon of Coke to drink at the gate.  And don't pack your $40 bottle of hair product in the carry-on.  In fact, why do people pack for an entire trip in a carry-on when the flight goes overseas?  More than likely, international travelers have packed a bag.  What could you possibly need on the plane that takes up an entire suitcase?  I get that airlines sometimes lose bags, but there is nothing that you can't buy at your destination; while it might suck to have to shell out for a cheap toothbrush while my bags are located, I find that preferable to cramming a huge suitcase into the overhead bin, sometimes miles from my seat, causing me to fight upstream to get my bag once the plane lands. 

Generally, being well-prepared, I have gotten through all the lines, security and customs, fairly quickly.  I have all my forms ready, my laptops slides in and out of my bag easily, and I smile at everyone.  This time, though, landing in Heathrow, I was faced with an massive line for customs, using every queue line, and stretching up the stairs and down the hallway, this line took two hours to get through.  TWO HOURS!  But, again, it was something I had to do (and the flight go in early, as is), so I put in my headphones and had a little rock-and-roll party featuring Tom Waits, The Black Keys, and The Cold War Kids.  I have to admit, though, that waiting two hours to jump through the same hoops (I know that four months is a long time, but I a student.  Yes.  Aberystwyth.  Yes, in Wales.  Research PhD.  English Literature.  I am going to take the train from here.  Yes.  From Euston...etc.) I jump through each time I arrive was a little annoying. 

In the end, though, it was a small price to pay for a huge metal bird to get me safely across an expanse of water to a different continent.  Sadly, it'll be another four months until I get the chance to ignore some random strange next to me for eight hours as I watch three movies I never got a chance to see in theaters (though, on my Chicago-bound flight, the TVs were in the ceiling, and only played Monte Carlo...), play Golden Eye, or read whatever novel I'm currently enjoying.