Free Press?

Newsweek Retracts Quran Story

So this whole Newsweek scandal has got me riled, I admit it. And mostly because it seems to me that what's on the table here is more than just the issue of journalistic responsibility, but in fact the whole issue of a free press.

I watched a news anchor this morning vehemently attack Newsweek for their reporting, but not because they had been careless in their research. At least, that isn't where she placed most of her outraged emphasis. No, she talked much more about how "our brave men and women in uniform" had been put in danger, and that America's image overseas had suffered as a result of the story. And I would have laughed if I hadn't been so angry. Our soldiers have been put in more danger, and our image has been more damaged, as a result of this Administration's actions since the day Bush was sworn into office, than as a result of one or two sentences in a Newsweek "Periscope" item. It's a little late in the day for our government to get all sanctimonious and concerned on behalf of our men and women in the field!!

What was even more laughable was the reaction by government officials, who talked about how they give out "rule books" to guards to teach them how to show proper respect for Islamic worship. So of course desecration of the Holy Q'uran couldn't happen!!! Right. Meanwhile, these same guards who received these rule books are currently under investigation for heinous human rights abuses! Are you kidding me, that these guards would think twice about flushing a book down a toilet?? Just because there are RULES against that? I mean, honestly. How stupid do they think we are?

Don't answer that.

Quite frankly, I don't necessarily think the story was untrue, even though Newsweek has published a retraction. Personally, I think they are bowing to pressure, and that disturbs me more than I can say. Because the press shouldn't be concerned primarily about upholding our governmental image. They should be concerned with telling the truth.

Some will say, "Well, that's the whole problem. Newsweek didn't tell the truth." Well, I would say that's up for debate, but hey, what would a frogg know? And it seems that any debates are being ruled out fairly quickly. That's what bothers me.

Now, am I saying journalistic responsibility isn't important? Of course not. But I get anxious for the state of our union when I read things like the following on CNN.com:

"Senior White House officials applauded Newsweek's decision to retract the story but said the magazine will have to do more to repair the damage done.

'It's a good first step,' said White House press secretary Scott McClellan.

McClellan said the magazine now has a responsibility to spread the word to the Muslim world that US interrogators 'treat the Quran with great care and respect.'"

Hmmm. I'm really not so sure that any such responsibility lies with the magazine. And McClellan's statements concern me, because they show an absolutely unabashed determination of our government to influence--no, control--our media. In fact, I don't know when I have seen such blatant tampering with the press and free speech as I have with this Administration.

Finally, it occurs to me that maybe our Administration should consider what part of the blame rests with them for the whole mess on the other side of the world. They have shown themselves woefully incapable when it comes to understanding the Muslim world. The Bible verse about sowing the wind and reaping the whirlwind irresistibly comes to mind at the moment. And I just don't see why Newsweek has to take the fall for this current outbreak of anti-American sentiment, when I would say it's just one more result of the lack of foresight, wisdom, diplomacy, integrity, and plain old common sense displayed over and over again by the current Administration.

I could keep venting, but I'm too disgusted and depressed.

Note: all of the above is the opinion of the writer. Very little research was done, beyond reading a few articles and watching the news--CNN.com, Fox and MSNBC, if you want to know. The writer is lazy, but she likes to spout her opinions anyway. This is very irresponsible journalistically speaking, so it's quite a good thing that the writer is not, in fact, a journalist. No sources were contacted, and no retractions will be made. Do your own research if you have concerns about the veracity of any of the opinions expressed herein. Ok?

King Cobra Rules! Or Maybe He Doesn't

Ok, so I just sat down to watch a movie, I'm surfing the channels looking for something good (of course there isn't anything), and then I get to this movie, King Cobra. The description of the movie in the little channel guide is exactly as follows, verbatim:

"A doctor becomes a 30-foot hybrid of a man, a cobra and a rattler after his biochemical lab explodes."

Well. Sounds like a bad day all around for the doctor, doesn't it.

But I have to say: Why a cobra AND a rattler? Is one or the other of them not deadly enough? Especially when they are 30-feet tall/long? I mean, maybe it's just me, but it seems a teensy bit redundant, that's all.

And how come it's a foregone conclusion that when you morph into something like a cobra or a rattler (or both), you are of necessity going to be evil and try to kill everyone? Isn't it just possible that there are good cobras in the world, who just want to be left alone while they mind their own business? I ask you.

But maybe the doctor was evil to begin with, in which case what he morphs into reflects the state of his darkened heart. I suppose I would have had to watch this from the beginning to know, but I think if I had done that, I might have died. Whether of boredom, or of shame that I would have watched such a movie from beginning to end, I'm not sure.

I do wonder, though: Why do horrible accidents always happen in these biochemical labs? It makes you wonder if we should even have them, doesn't it? And the accidents are never like, "Oh, I knocked over a beaker of perfectly harmless saline solution." No, it's always, "The two most volatile substances known to man, that should never come into contact or else something will explode, have just been thrown into the same Bunsen burner!" "NOOOO!!!!! Didn't you read the labels?!"

So, are biochemists and scientists and doctors just clumsier than the rest of us? What's the deal? Maybe they should leave the biochemical labs under the care of English majors. We'd gladly leave everything alone, and then nothing bad could ever happen. Everyone would be happy.

Also, how come these scientists never die when their labs explode and stuff, they just morph into strange hybrids? It's weird.

Pat Morita of Karate Kid fame is in the movie, getting the worst of it in an epic fight with the King Cobra. Which, I might add, does not resemble a man at all, but does look like a giant cobra...with a rattle on the end of its tail. It also seems to be made out of very strong, industrial strength plastic. Or something.

Pat Morita is dying now. It appears he just got bitten by the cobra. Bummer. There are other people fighting too. Everyone is wearing safety goggles, when it seems like what they should really be wearing is body armor. I mean, the man/cobra/rattler isn't SPITTING at them, for crying out loud. It's BITING them!

I thought for awhile that A.I. was the worst movie ever made, but I think I will have to revise my opinion. (A.I. is still pretty dreadful, though.)

A Defense? Perhaps. You Decide.

I was appalled by the May issue of Harper's magazine, which contains articles about The Christian Right and its War on America, Christianity's influence on economics, and a report on megachurch New Life Church in Colorado Springs.

Article writers like Lewis Lapham ("Notebook: The Wrath of the Lamb") and Jeff Sharlet ("Soldiers of Christ: 1. Inside America's Most Powerful Megachurch") paint a picture of Christians as an army of empty-headed morons pinning their beliefs on a non-existent God as a way of justifying their political conservativism. That's a simplification, of course, but I'd say it is a pretty accurate sum-up of their basic premises.

Obviously I disagree with the foundation on which they build their cases, being a Christian myself. However, at the same time, I am forced to acknowledge that, at least as far as Christianity in politics goes, they bring up some issues that can't be dismissed. Personally, I think something terribly ugly happens to Christianity when it makes its way into the political arena, and I start to understand why Jesus always avoided getting embroiled in politics, and would hide himself away whenever he suspected that followers and adoring crowds were planning to make him king. He said his kingdom wasn't of this world, and I wonder if sometimes the political Christian Right has forgotten this.

Sharlet's article in particular was very damning, quoting Pastor Ted Haggard of New Life Church as saying things like, "I want the church to help me live life well, not exhaust me with endless 'worthwhile' projects." What?! Since when is the church, or God even, a vehicle for making sure you maximize the potential of your life? And yet that's exactly what's being taught in church these days. I went to a church last Sunday, where above the stage where the worship band was leading us in a rock-concert style praise session, was a large banner that read: "Imagine creating the life you've always dreamed."

Books like "A Purpose-Driven Life" are blockbusting best-sellers. I am constantly hearing, in Christian circles, the idea that "God has a big call on your life." I've heard Jeremiah 29:11 quoted prodigiously: "For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." I've heard that God wants us to be happy, he wants to help us fulfill our dreams, and so much more besides.

I haven't heard an awful lot about making sacrifices to help those in need (though I personally know Christians who are doing this; too bad they get far less press). I haven't been strongly rebuked for my lack of compassion for the poor. It's rarely been suggested that maybe God's "big call" on my life means working behind the scenes, never getting recognition for the things I do, and perhaps just living out my days in quiet faithfulness to him, giving to those in need, comforting those in distress, staying faithful to my spouse, and teaching my children the ways of the Lord. These aren't the sort of topics that make for dramatic sermons, I guess.

Sharlet also describes Pastor Ted as aligning himself with the idea that spirituality is a commodity. As such, says Sharlet, "[Ted] knows that for Christianity to prosper in the free market, it needs more than 'moral values'--it needs customer value." Sharlet also quotes Pastor Ted stating that "evangelical" stands for "pro-free market," :pro-private property." This is certainly news to me, and not particularly welcome news at that. Without going into my personal politics, I am absolutely opposed to any definition of Christianity that has nothing to do with the person of Christ. I don't care if church has no customer value. I don't want it to, to be honest.

I am not against capitalism per se. But I'm firmly against using Christianity as a defense for it. That's not what Christianity is for. And that's not what "evangelical" means.

Having said all this, I was ultimately very disappointed in Sharlet's piece, not because his writing was bad (it was hardly that), but because his bias was clear from the beginning. There was nothing whatsoever that could be called objective about his reporting. His careful phrasing of every description of New Life Church and the people in it, not to mention Colorado Springs in general, is absolutely calculated to generate maximum levels of disdain and contempt for all things Christian.

So naturally I can't completely trust his portrayal of his subject. But because I've been in the arena myself, I know that some of what he says is partly true. And that's the part that makes me incredibly sad.

Because, you see, I want people to know the Jesus I'm just starting to know myself, and how can they when they read about New Life Church in Harper's. I want people to know the comfort of a God who, though wild and untamable and utterly beyond my control, is there for me when I need him. How can I explain it? How can I make anyone see what I'm talking about without coming off like a total weirdo myself? I can't, at least not to those who don't know me. But those of you who do...have I given you cause to think I'm crazy? To think I'm stupid, gullible, or prone to uncritical acceptance of any belief? You know I haven't. And if you know that, then you should at least consider what I'm telling you. Consider that it might be true. That maybe, just maybe, there is a God out there and we need him. That maybe, just maybe, Jesus really was something completely different than ourselves, and yet very much the same. And that maybe, just maybe, there's a reason to believe that the things he said and did are worth investigating for yourself.

Scene from a Movie: The Road to Perdition

A boy and his father are sitting in a diner, eating. They have just robbed a bank...or perhaps a mobster don. I think they are in Chicago in the late 30s, but I can't remember. But wherever they are, they are now in a diner, side by side at the bar, not talking but eating.

The boy is the first to break the silence.

"So when do I get my share?"

The father keeps eating. He doesn't look at his son. "How much do you want?"

The boy thinks for a minute, then says, "$200."

The father considers.

"Ok."

The boy is delighted that he got what he wanted so quickly, easily, painlessly. He had been primed to beg and plead, ready to face resistance from the man by his side. But there was none.

Then the boy has a thought. "Could I have gotten more?" he asks.

His father answers, "You'll never know."

Snakes

Today I had a conversation with a snake.

It was pretty one-sided, I admit. I was asking him to let me pass him on the trail where I was walking, and he didn't say yes or no, just lay there, stretched out on the ground in the sun. I couldn't see his tail, because it was hidden in the weeds, but I had my suspicions. Rattlesnakes abound in the California hills.

He wasn't the first snake I'd seen this morning, either. I'd been walking along a narrow section, and came to a spot where I heard a strange noise coming from a rain gutter that ended right over the trail. I thought it was running water, and then I saw the writhing tangle of yellow and black bodies inside. I don't know how many there were. I didn't stick around long enough to find out.

But this snake, in the middle of the trail! He wasn't moving, and yet the thought never entered my head that he might be dead. I was quite sure he wasn't, long before I saw the little tongue flick in and out.

"Please," I said aloud. "Do you mind if I just, well, go past you? I won't hurt you, I promise." Pause. "And you...you won't hurt me either, right?"

Flick, flick.

"Hmmmm."

I didn't want to go back the way I'd come; besides, who's to say I wouldn't find myself facing the same problem again on the way back? Snakes could be all over the place! No, I wanted to go forward. I eyed the trail; it was quite wide. The snake wasn't coiled, so perhaps I could sprint past him quick enough to avoid a bite? I looked at the snake. I didn't think it was a good idea.

Well, I stood there for a minute, wondering what to do, and then he began to move at last. At first I thought it was bad news; that he had decided I was a threat and was going to get all coiled up and ready to strike. In that case, he would've won--I'd definitely have gone the other way. But no, he just began to make his slow, leisurely way across the trail to the other side.

And I saw that I was right--he was indeed a nice big rattlesnake.

Froggs like snakes about as much as they like sharks, which is basically not at all. Fascinating creatures, but I prefer to be fascinated from the comfort of my living room, when they are on TV and far, far away.

Parenthesis

"For being a foreigner, Ashima is beginning to realize, is a sort of lifelong pregnancy--a perpetual wait, a constant burden, a continuous feeling out of sorts. It is an ongoing responsibility, a parenthesis in what had once been ordinary life, only to discover that that previous life has vanished, replaced by something more complicated and demanding."--from The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri

But what is it like to be a foreigner in the land where you thought you belonged, because that's where you were from, where you grew up, where you lived...until one day you went away, and everything changed?

When I came back from my travels--and I mean came back at last, because when I first arrived back in the United States "for good," there was still a lot of going here and here, including the East Coast and the Bay Area, and eventually I even went as far as Egypt, Jordan, and Israel and going to the Middle East was like going to the moon in some ways, and yet not in others--but when I really and truly came back, I felt more lost and homeless than I had ever felt on my many travels. For here I was, where everything finally was familiar again, and yet it was all completely strange. I didn't know what to do with it, what to do with myself, and what to do with everyone else. I had forgotten how to live with my suitcase packed away empty in a closet.

Sometimes I think to myself, "I want to go to that cafe that I went to with so-and-so once, what was the name?" And then I remember that the cafe, as well as so-and-so, is in Titirangi, in New Zealand, and there is no way of getting there in time to watch the sun go down and still get home in time for work the next day.

And then there was my first view of Cairo, from the plane. All I could see was brown desert, brown buildings, and an absolute forest of brown satellite dishes. The pyramids gleamed golden at the end of the wing as the plane banked for the landing.

I have black sand from Karekare beach in a little bottle on my desk, next to another bottle that has red sand from Petra. The sand from Petra used to carry the scent of Jordan with it--a scent of dust, of the Bedouins, of ancient beauty. Now it smells like nothing at all.

One day I was cleaning out my backpack and found rocks that I think are from Israel, but it's hard to know. They look like ordinary rocks to me now.

This evening I lay down to rest, and suddenly I was walking across the field near the dairy in Oxford, New Zealand. I tell you I could feel the grass under my feet, and I saw the little yellow flowers scattered through the green, just as I did on a lazy afternoon, how long ago now?

Every now and then I still go into a momentary panic when I pull out of my driveway, because I am not sure anymore which side of the road I'm supposed to be driving on.

Someday I will tell the story of my near-death experience while riding a donkey on a street in a Bedouin village. But not tonight.

Widgets and Smocks

Well, I tried posting this twice using a new blog widget for Tiger OS 10.4, but it didn't work. Annoying, but I still do like widgets. They are pretty neat. Actually, I think I really just like to say, "widget." It's a cool word.

Did anyone ever read the Calvin & Hobbes strip where Hobbes and Calvin are making stuff with clay, and Hobbes wants a smock before he'll sculpt anything, but Calvin says he doesn't need a smock, because the clay isn't that messy, and then Hobbes starts yelling that he wants a smock, and Calvin gives in, and eventually Hobbes admits that really he just likes to say, "smock," and then he says it over and over and over again, until Calvin screams, "What the heck is WRONG with you?!"

I feel the same way about the word "widget" that Hobbes does about the word "smock."

And I also like the word "yellow."