If you’ve seen a video or picture of the “Latte Salute” a.k.a. Semper Venti, or if you’ve heard (or participated in) the rambling cries of how much our President supposedly hates the military and disrespects them by this action, I invite you to check this link,
Warning: there’s some language in the article, and the comments section as always should be avoided as the bane of rational thought.
But the writer absolutely KILLS it on this subject.
Let’s give our thought and attention to that which is deserving.
There’s an UpWorthy video popping into my Facebook feed, a Fisheye Moments presentation of a poem by the (seemingly quite talented) Leyla Josephine. The poem is titled “I Think She Was a She.”
There’s some strong language, and hey, it’s about abortion, so if either of those things is going to rile you up, you’ve been warned.
The video lays out a case for women’s rights, and specifically for the right to choose on the subject of abortion. It could be viewed as a touching presentation of “what might have been,” a powerful expression of womanhood untamed, and an honest grappling with the variety of emotions that the subject of abortion brings to light.
But there was something about the logic and the in-your-face presentation that nagged at me.
So, since I’m on the ignorant “putting government in your body” side, I thought I’d respond.
I’m sorry, I’m ignorant, I’m stuck in the past I’m hung up on views that are never going to last You can say what you like about me, I guess Because Lord knows sometimes my side should have said less But we judge and condemn and put down and cry murder Not considering that this separates our sides further Not thinking about the woman, we’ll hurt her With good-intention defenses for the fetus within her.
But let me back up and try to hear what you said Because your message is all about the story in your head The hypothetical girl in a fantasy world of what might have been If she had only come later, instead of back then You want me to understand you’d have been a great mother Investing and serving the needs of another Marking the wall and taking care of it all Answering the call of responsibility For this small child you say “who’d grow up to be And look just like me” Because she could have been born, had you been ready.
But just after that speech you try to persuade Any who listen that there was no other way Or that this mother-to-be, herself still just a girl Would not, could not handle bringing a child into the world Due to lack of maturity at such a young age. She could have been born… at some later stage
I’m sorry, I’m ignorant perhaps to your pain But the two sides of this story don’t add up to your claim You’d have me believe you’d be the best parent Then tell me it’s such a daunting task that you daren’t Which is it then? Because when I hear your views You want me to see that you really couldn’t choose As though this experience was forced upon you, The only sensible reaction to the unexpected news You’ll tell me you’d die for that girl’s right to be free But death is far harsher than responsibility And you wouldn’t give up the life you desired To become the perfect mother your story required But if the roles were reversed, you’d lay down your life gladly? I’m sorry, I’m ignorant, I can’t buy it, sadly.
Declaring “I’m willing to die for you” Easy to say, much harder to do What about choosing to live for her instead, So that your actions would have proven what your poetry said? I’m sorry, I’m ignorant, I can’t agree with your views Nor celebrate the death caused by your right to choose.
UpWorthy makes the point that it takes a lot of courage to talk about the deeply personal stuff in our lives. I agree. I respect Ms. Josephine sharing her views on the subject.
I believe I’m free to disagree with them. That’s my choice.
So I guess this is a big deal to some on WordPress? Judging by the crap some blogs receive for engaging in this practice.
I’m not “new” to blogging; I’ve been here about two years. But I have no idea what mass following is as compared to just plain regular following. Thus I don’t know what people might be up in arms about.
Near as I can tell, the idea is that you can follow a bunch of bloggers (or Twitter accounts, or other social media avenues) that talk about a specific keyword you’re interested in. Maybe a number of those people decide to follow you back. Ta-da, you gained some audience for your blog.
The assumption is that’s shady, I guess. You’re supposed to put great stuff out there and like magic, if you write it, they will come.
Well I see a lot of people in my reader who put out some great thoughts and get maybe 4 likes. The magic doesn’t always work.
Not to mention, part of what I personally enjoy about blogging is the variety of thought and content out there. Blogs open windows to worlds I’ll never be a part of. They give insight into experiences I’ll never have. So if a subject interests me, it might be perfectly natural to go out and search for a wide swath of bloggers and Tweeters who are talking about that subject. I might learn something new.
I can always go trim the fat off my Reader later.
What’s wrong with this? I thought this is kind of the point of social media interaction, tagging posts, hashtagging tweets, and seeing what else is out there.
If you’re aware of something about this that I’m not, I’d love to hear your perspective. Meanwhile, I’m going to go see who all is writing about my interests, and I might even click follow on their blogs.
An atheist Airman was denied the right to reenlist in the United States Air Force recently. It’s been my experience that everyone had the option to say the phrase if desired, or omit the phrase if desired. But that changed late last year.
The Air Force cites US law that supersedes its previous guidance on the matter as the reason for a change in Oct 2013 that took out the option to say – or not say – “so help me God.” Title 10 Section 502 covers the oath of enlistment, and it makes no provision for omitting the phrase in question. So the Air Force has a justifiable position for its argument, which boils down to “We have to follow the law. If the law needs to be changed, then Congress has to change Title 10 Section 502 so that we can then change our regulations which fall under it.”
My experience has been that most people say it or omit it as applicable to their personal stance, and no one really cares. But the case, linked above, is proof that if someone wants to fight on this issue, the religious language is clearly going to win.
But that doesn’t make it right.
There’s a petition in the works to change the code to the very reasonable, already-done-in-practice-for-years method of “say this part if you want, and don’t say it if you don’t want.” I hope you’ll support it.
Everyone loves Top 10 lists, so I thought I’d toss one in.
Top Ten Reasons to Change Section 502 of Title 10:
10. Yes, there are atheists in foxholes. I’ve served alongside many atheists who were among the hardest-working and most skilled in my almost 20 years of military experience. I count it an honor to have served beside them, and denigrating their choice to reject a religious belief is actually unlawful, just as it is unlawful for someone to discriminate against me based on my Christian faith. I mean, the whole “unlawful” part should be enough to require no other reason. Article VI of the Constitution states: “no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States.” While this clause at the end of the oath might not exactly meet the standard of a “religious test” it certainly sits in a very grey area. But since this point is clearly not enough, let’s move on:
9. There are plenty of other faiths in foxholes too. The military needs bodies, and so we take all kinds. That means that we’ve got Buddhists, Catholics, Druids, Hindus, Jews, Mormons, Muslims, Protestants, Sikhs, Wiccans… to name a few off the top of my head. Half of those belief systems – to my knowledge – don’t recognize a monotheistic God. So the “so help me God” doesn’t work for them. Yes, they may be a small minority, but the law has to protect the rights of everyone, not just the special people.
8. This would take us back to our roots. Now, some of my Christian friends and many of the inane comments on the Interweb talk about going back to our identity or roots as a Christian nation by keeping this phrase mandatory. News flash: much like “under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance, this “so help me God” was a recent addition. Prior to 1962, you wouldn’t be prompted to say any such thing if enlisting into the Armed Forces. And honestly, I hope going back to the 60s is not what the Christians have in mind. (Side note: the Internet, it turns out, is a wonderful source of information. Using it before stating opinions and misinformation as fact is a very considerate course of action.)
7. This is not a Christian nation. Again, contrary to many comments on social media declaring it so, America is a secular nation by design, with a Judeo-Christian culture making up an arguably large part of past influences, along with deism and humanist philosophy. God didn’t pen the Constitution on stone tablets that George Washington brought down from Mount Vernon. However, many of the colonials were inspired to come to the New World to escape persecution and mistreatment on the basis of holding minority religious beliefs. That helps explain why American law and government was designed to ensure no requirement for religion would be enforced upon the people. Yes, there are quotes from Founding Fathers who speak about the need for faith in God. But they clearly didn’t intend an enforcement of one religion over every other.
6. We can use all the proud, honorable service we can get. I’ve served with atheists who are quite honorable and some who are jerks… just like there are Christians who are quite honorable and Christians that I wouldn’t trust to hold my Bible outside of my sight. Our nation has a large number of military commitments and missions, and we are striving to keep up that pace (if not increase it) while reducing the number of people in uniform available to execute the mission. If an atheist Airman is volunteering to serve, I’m happy to stand beside him. Because what matters on the flightline or the frontline is that we both swore to defend the Constitution of the United States.
5. This doesn’t take God out of anything at all. Some Christians worry that this is a case of persecution, or an instance of taking God out of the public sphere. But the language of the petition is clear: If you want to keep “so help me God” in your oath, do so. If you don’t want to say it, don’t. Nothing is lost for the believers, but the same level of equality and freedom to choose would be granted to those of other faiths or no faith.
4. This upholds equality. We don’t want to live in an American version of an Orwellian fable. “Everyone is equal but some are more equal than others” can’t be permitted or upheld here. That’s not what our servicemembers–religious or atheist–are fighting to protect and defend. How can some people rejoice that Hobby Lobby gets to stand on its religious beliefs, and then rejoice just as loud when someone else’s freedom is tread upon? Well… I know how they can do so. But it’s still vile and wrong.
3. Yes, it is a big deal to “just say it.” Imagine showing up to work on Monday and being told unless you deny your faith, you’re fired. Just a few words. No big deal, right? Just say it, and keep earning a paycheck. Who would stand for this? I can’t. So if I’m not okay with the hypothetical, then I can’t accept when it is really happening to someone else.
2. Defending the rights of the atheist means defending my own right as well. If the government can mandate someone to swear an oath contrary to their belief, then that has far-reaching implications. I cannot be okay with that so long as it’s done to “them” without realizing that the government then has the same power to someday inflict such a requirement upon me. Call it the Golden Rule, call it common sense, call it sticking up for the underdog, or whatever you want. Sadly, I saw hundreds of comments of “Amen!” “Praise God!” and other passionate expressions of joy on this subject. If that’s your initial reaction, take a moment to think about how it would feel to be told you must deny your faith, or swear to Allah or something similar in order to serve your country. Why would anyone be okay with this?
And finally, my overall reason to change Title 10 and do away with this enforcement of “so help me God” in the oath is:
1. Nothing is gained but hypocrisy. The atheist has no faith in this God we are demanding he or she call upon. It forces the enlistee to lie while swearing or affirming a solemn oath. I’m not accusing the atheist here; I’m accusing the enforcers and defenders of such a requirement. Those four words mean nothing at all if forced upon someone who doesn’t believe. This serves no purpose. It is wasted breath. What should matter to a Christian isn’t whether these four words are said, but rather are they being lived out? Plenty of people, Christians and atheists and whatever else, have said “so help me God.” But apart from sincere faith informing and motivating devout action, who cares? It’s empty. No one’s life has been transformed to emulate Christ by the addition of “so help me God” in their oath of enlistment. Instead, we have a vast majority of people saying something that means absolutely nothing to them, and the political Christians will call it a victory. “We defended God in public,” they’ll say. “We kept God in the oath!”
No, all you did was create hypocrisy, forcing lips to say what hearts don’t believe.
And He said to them, “Rightly did Isaiah prophesy of you hypocrites, as it is written: ‘THIS PEOPLE HONORS ME WITH THEIR LIPS, BUT THEIR HEART IS FAR AWAY FROM ME.'” (Mark 7:6 NASB)
‘Murica! If only we could remember what that stands for…
So, please, whether you’re a believer or not, go to Whitehouse.gov and sign this petition. You’re not just defending the freedoms of others, but also your own.
If you think I’ve missed a key point in my top ten, or if you think I’m way off base on this one, I’d love to hear from you. Please let me know in a comment below! Thanks for taking the time to read, and even more so if you’ve signed.
The most recent celebrity picture hack is all over the news, and Jennifer Lawrence’s name seems to be in every headline.
Hacking is illegal, and invading someone’s expected privacy is a terrible violation of the individual. I feel for J-Law and her peers, whose private photos and whatever else have now found their way to the Internet, where, sadly, the rule of thumb is, nothing ever truly disappears.
Like words spoken then regretted, it’s impossible to retrieve what gets onto the Web. No matter how hard you try, no matter how hard you wish you could go back in time and make a different decision.
That sucks, but it’s–if not a fact–at least a basic working assumption you can go on when using anything online.
Some folks want to point this out to the celebs whose privacy has been violated. When one of the celebs castigated the perpetrators and anyone going out to view those images, she got a snarky response saying, “Hey, don’t take the picture if you don’t want it seen by people online.”
Harsh and tasteless, yes.
Not the way things should be, I agree.
Victim blaming instead of putting focus on the hackers? I’m not so sure.
An op-ed (which inspired this post) called out the victim-blaming mentality on this and similar subjects. Telling young women not to pose for nude pictures, or telling them not to share or store those online by any presumed secure means–this is apparently inappropriate advice because it puts the responsibility on the woman. Not enough is being done to focus on the actual hacking, the op-ed claims. (Well, there’s an FBI investigation now, so hopefully something comes of that.)
I applaud calling out victim-blaming and condemning slut-shaming, of course. The hackers who invade privacy are to blame, like thieves who take someone’s belongings and rapists who steal someone’s innocence. These actions are absolutely the fault of the perpetrators, also known as criminals. 100% of the blame deservedly rests on their shoulders.
That doesn’t mean I don’t lock my car door.
That doesn’t mean I thoughtlessly allow my teenage daughter to put herself into dangerous situations.
I also don’t take nude pics and store them online. (No one wants that anyway, trust me. It would be an effective hacking countermeasure. They’d come looking for valuable personal information and such, and they’d flee in terror.)
I have no judgment for those who engage in risky behavior online. I wish it wasn’t risky. I reserve a great deal of judgment for those who violate another’s expectations of privacy. I hope they meet the full force of the law.
But I’ll still use this news story as a teachable moment for my children, to help them understand the risks and rewards of all things Internet. I want them to be responsible users… even if “responsibility” is considered an unpopular term.
I’ve created this helpful Venn diagram to further express my point.
The contents of your middle section may vary.
Should we live in a world where J-Law and anyone else can take whatever pics they want, store them on whatever online service they want, and expect their private matters to be shared only with whoever they choose?
I spent a lot of time tonight griping with my friends on social media (and in person) about how disappointed we were in the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TMNT) movie.
Two of us sat there in the theater trying not to laugh at the wrong moments, like when a scene is clearly meant to convey some strong emotion or dramatic impact. We also tried not to be emotionally moved by the inane plot, the logical breakdowns in the story, and the constant terrible dialogue.
Normally it’s good when a viewer leaves thinking about a movie, unable to shake the feelings the film created. But not in this case.
Since misery loves company, we took our enjoyment in pondering how bad the movie was, in our opinion. “My childhood is weeping,” I posted on Facebook.
After a lot of back-and-forth banter, I scrolled through the rest of my feed. And my thoughts were swiftly refocused on what matters.
I make jokes about suffering inflicted on my childhood memories by a bad movie. But then I see stories about how children in Iraq are being beheaded for no reason other than the family they were born into.
I’m frustrated by being away from my family for seemingly no reason for the last week or so. Meanwhile, families are being ripped apart figuratively, as it happens literally to family members.
I miss my wife, my daughter, and my sons, who I will probably see in a day or two. In Iraq, wives and daughters are being taken away from homes, forced into “marriages” against their will, or flat-out raped. Husbands and boys are being murdered. Whole families are being slaughtered.
My wife and kids are dealing with the many boxes of belongings we finally received from Nebraska. I’m thinking of work I need to do to help arrange all that furniture and just plain stuff when I get home. Other families in the world have been forced to leave their belongings behind, fleeing to survive, threatened with death should they return to their homes that have been marked by ISIS.
Is it wrong to see a movie? No, that’s not what I’m saying. Is it wrong to miss my family? Of course not. Should we never have fun because there are horrible things going on elsewhere in the world? That would be foolish.
But when I start to think for even a second that I’ve got it so bad, I’m challenged by the news the West is getting (and finally paying attention to) from over there.
There isn’t an easy answer or solution, only a competing array of undesired options. The thought of further military involvement sucks. A decision to ignore the atrocities taking place would be unconscionable. And there aren’t a lot of viable choices that might make a lick of difference in between those two extremes.
I don’t have an answer. I don’t have much in the way of resources to throw at this crisis. And I don’t even have much of a following to hear me rant about how something must be done, as if my words would make some difference.
But at least I can stop and take my mind for a time off the meaningless and banal, if for no other reason than to say that the call for help is being heard and passed on.
And I can remember and cherish what matters most: appreciating family, coming together despite our differences, and taking care of each other…
which, oddly enough and despite all its faults, was the point of TMNT.
It’s appropriate that the lead character in Marvel Studios’ newest release is something of a scoundrel and con man. Chris Pratt plays (self-proclaimed) notorious outlaw Star Lord, a.k.a. Peter Jason Quill. The first time we’re introduced to his character as a grown-up, he’s nabbing the heist while leaving his partner high and dry.
For the rest of the film, he vacillates between good ideals and pragmatic self-interest. The moral grey area calls to mind Serenity captain Mal Reynolds, who often wants to do the right thing, but has to balance that with keeping a ship flying. Sometimes Quill makes sacrifices to do the right thing, but sometimes the right thing gets sacrificed.
Throughout the plot, Quill keeps a step ahead of the vast array of competing interests standing in the way of his big score. Pratt plays Quill with that casual everyman charm, someone who knows he’s got a snowball’s chance in the Sun but conveys confidence like the promised big money is already in his pocket.
Quill is a space hustler. When you think you got him on the ropes, it’s because he wants you to believe it.
And I couldn’t help thinking of the parallel to Marvel Studios as I later discussed the movie with friends.
Almost everything I read leading up to this said, “Marvel sure is taking a gamble with this. Talking raccoon? Tree person? Aliens and not-even-B-list comic heroes? We’ll see how this goes…”
Most reviews were willing to extend benefit of the doubt based on past success. This is Marvel we’re talking about. They knocked Iron Man out of the park. They made Norse gods work in Thor. They even tied their movies together into a cohesive universe leading up to The Avengers which absolutely crushed it.
Marvel figured it out and got that successful formula on lock. (Even some “bad” Marvel movies like Iron Man 2 were still fantastic as super-hero movies go.)
So I wonder if we all didn’t just get played. “This is taking a big chance.” Maybe from the outside looking in, but I’m betting Marvel execs didn’t think so. “What a risk!” No, risk implies likelihood of failure, and I don’t think that was the plan going in. “The raccoon’s a main character? Ugh. What if it’s another Howard the Duck?” Not a chance.
Seriously, looking at how they executed this, I’m willing to believe there was not even a chance in their minds that Guardians would be received as anything less than exemplary.
A gamble? No, just made to look that way.
That leads me to this image, sticking it to DC for their risk-averse comments and back-and-forth commitment to a Wonder Woman film.
No doubt Marvel is killing it, and sticking a sharp box-office poker in DC’s eye with every release. Nolan’s Batman trilogy was well-received, especially Dark Knight. But both recent attempts at Superman came under heavy flak from the fans. And the new movie’s casting of Affleck and Eisenberg draws even more skepticism.
The fact is, DC doesn’t have the reputation for box office smash hits to rely on for a gamble. Maybe Wonder Womanshouldn’t be a risky proposition, but DC’s clearly not interested in taking more chances than they must.
And to be fair, this is a bit apples-to-oranges.
Rocket’s not the lead. Sure, he’s a draw, but it’s not like the film is The Adventures of Rocket Raccoon.
More importantly, what movies has Marvel released with a female lead? I completely forgot about Elektra, which is for the best. But sadly, it’s hard to think of Marvel movies prior to Iron Man as even belonging to their current portfolio.
Marvel has some great female characters (Black Widow, Maria Hill) on the silver screen and on TVs at home, but none of them are headlining anything. The new show with Sharon Carter may change this, but still, it’s not a film. It’s a show – easily canceled if it doesn’t meet expectations.
That said, I really wanted to type that the Sharon Carter project could be a big gamble. But we’ve seen how those work out where Marvel is concerned.
“Life… we were given life 8 billion years ago… what have we done with it?”
This is – more or less – the opening line of Lucy, the new action thriller directed by Luc Besson. Scarlett Johansen stars as the average girl who unlocks higher brain functions including comic book style superpowers and virtual omniscience through accidental exposure to a powerful new drug.
I’ve read that the best teachers are not those who give the right answers but rather ask the right questions. Similarly, some of the most moving stories leave us wondering and in a way unsatisfied at the end of the book. The questions take residence in our minds, and we mull over what the dramatic events all meant, why the hero or villain made such choices, and what would have happened if…
I love stories that create strong questions. I like pondering the characters and their motives long after the last page. A good story can be made more powerful if it communicates a message or moral.
But there’s a pitfall to avoid when crafting such a tale: Write stories, not sermons.
Lucy fails in this regard.
The film often juxtaposed interesting imagery to tell the story – for example, flashing between cheetahs stalking prey on the savannah and the drug cartel toughs watching vulnerable Lucy when she enters their turf. That’s one way to show, one way to give the audience something very relatable.
But the dialogue and the narration… the actors might as well turn to face the camera and address the audience directly for some of these lines, since it’s little more than preaching at some key points. Morgan Freeman and Scarlett Johansen deliver their lines with the seriousness and intensity of professionals, but it was hard not to roll my eyes and groan.
“I’m going to find a way to share everything I’ve learned,” Lucy says, as she approaches a seemingly-infinite knowledge state.
“But will mankind even deserve such a powerful gift?” Morgan’s character asks.
(These quotes are paraphrased, sorry.)
And nowhere is this attempt at message-fiction more obvious than the ending. I’ll try not to spoil too much… but as the camera pans over a scene of violence and the brutal aftermath of the killing of one of the bad guys, Lucy repeats the phrase from the beginning: “Life… we were given life 8 billion years ago…”
This time she adds, “Now you know what to do with it.”
Really? I guess I’m meant to gun down drug lords? Because that’s what you’re showing me when you give that answer.
Or maybe I’m meant to unlock my mind (with drugs?) and become a calculating and emotionless death machine that can bend time and telekinetically move objects and people at will?
(I have to admit, time travel, omniscience and telekinesis would be a pretty sweet package. Sign me up.)
Sorry, Lucy, I applaud the attempt to make something meaningful and moving. I’m glad someone wanted their story to rise above the banal status of “action flick.”
But that film was made for munching popcorn and watching Scarlett dominate her foes with awesome powers, not a moral diatribe about the state of the human race.
There’s a new Golden Rule in some parts of America, and it goes something like this:
“Do unto others according to the amount of taxes they pay to your government.”
I saw a link on my Facebook feed where a Tea Party group is enraged because illegal immigrants were given government EBT cards to purchase food. Various groups scream on social media with headlines designed to inflame instead of inform.
“Those are taxpayer dollars!”
“We have vets who go homeless while illegal immigrants are housed. It’s not fair!”
All this (predominantly Right-Wing) fury makes me wonder.
I think of someone the Right often claims as one of their own: Jesus. Specifically, I think of when the lawyers and religious leaders came to Him asking “What is the most important commandment?” The story is captured in Luke’s Gospel (chapter 10, starting in verse 25ish)
He boiled it down to “Love God with everything, and love your neighbor as yourself.”
One of the lawyers looked for the loophole in this broad and sweeping command. Luke writes, “He, wishing to justify himself, asked ‘Who is my neighbor?'”
Great question. Jesus answers with the story of the Good Samaritan who encounters a victim in need. The Samaritan goes out of his way to take care of someone his culture said was his enemy. Jesus asks, “So who was the victim’s neighbor?” The answer the lawyer gives is: “the one who shows mercy.”
I for one would like my government, my society, and my country to be known for mercy.
The argument I hear is, “Well, why not let citizens be charitable instead of giving away tax dollars and American money to all these people?” It’s the same argument for doing away with or cutting back welfare and other forms of aid to the poor. Why can’t we let individuals and faith-based organizations give and serve, so that our government can use the money to take care of America’s other pressing needs?
Sure! That would be great… if enough people were doing it that government didn’t have to step in. But that’s not happening. Not enough individuals or charitable organizations are stepping up to the plate. So it’s either let people suffer because they’re not Americans, or because of their supposed and presumed bad life choices, or because hey life sucks and not everybody wins.
Or we can show mercy.
Mercy is costly. Mercy takes away from our resources to meet the needs of another. Mercy doesn’t focus on who “deserves” it.
Yeah, it’s your tax dollar. Sure, there’s a lot our government could do better. Of course I want immigrants to follow legal methods. No, when you boil it down to an overly simplistic question, I don’t think it’s fair that a veteran might go homeless while someone who’s not even a citizen gets cared for. Sure, I do wonder whether we’re feeding people we’ve detained while sorting out what to do with them, or handing over a bunch of electronic money without any concern for who we’re giving it to.
But Jesus didn’t say, “Suffer the law-abiding citizens to come unto Me.” He didn’t tell a tale of the Good Taxpayer who ensured his denarius was spent only on his nation’s citizens. I have a hard time picturing Christ flipping tables where detained illegal immigrants are being served food, or chasing the immigrants out of Wal-Mart.
And I remember the symbol of hope Ameica is to many on distant shores (and across distant borders). The plaque on the Statue of Liberty doesn’t say, “Give me your wealthy, give me just your best and brightest, give me those who have no needs and no worries.”
It doesn’t say, “Give me your tired, your poor, your outcasts… so I can send them back, rejected.”
There are better ways, perhaps. Reforms are needed, and a balance has to be found between a secure border and an open welcoming society.
But I feel like this pic from the Left calls the Right out on a political and philosophical disconnect.
Let us not be those who, wishing to justify indignity and indifference, ask “And who is my neighbor?”
That was a headline in the entertainment section of the newspaper back when I was about 13 years old. “The Death of Superman” received all kinds of attention from the mainstream media. I recall hearing stories on the evening news announcing the upcoming event.
Of course he was back in about a year, to no one’s surprise. I, like many comic collectors, sighed and muttered, “I knew it!” The obvious marketing ploy and the inevitable resurrection cheapened the story.
Those memories came to me as I read about the upcoming Death of Archie in the ages-old comic series set in Riverdale.
When they were younger, my two teenagers sometimes picked up Archie comics. There was a level of “traditional” morality to the comics, and by that I mean something far different from current political debates about “traditional marriage” and such. This was more of a Leave It to Beaver 60’s vibe of wholesome humor and lighthearted drama where the biggest dilemma was how Archie dealt with being caught between Betty’s and Veronica’s affections.
Archie dying certainly shakes that up.
Instead of planning a resurrection, the writers avoid the end of the various Archie comics series by placing this death story in Life With Archie, an alternate timeline series that flashes forward to glimpse the near future of life after high school. They’ve shown how Archie might live as an adult, and now they can show how he someday meets his untimely demise. That way they can continue telling Archie stories and selling comics.
What got me, though, is the effort to jam a political agenda into the book. It’s blatant message-fiction.
How does Archie die? Channeling some Jack Bauer heroism, Archie dies protecting “the first openly gay Riverdale character” who is running for office on a platform focused on increased gun control.
“Look how progressive we are! Look how progressive Archie is!”
Sacrificing himself for another person is heroic, and I have no issues with that. Heroism is laudable and comic books are a way that we as a society reaffirm those values to our children.
The openly gay individual as the target is sadly all too reflective of true stories where people have been bullied, tormented, or even killed. I’m not looking at the writers’ choice to use the gay character as part of “the homosexual agenda” or whatever. Even though it feels like how so many episodes of Glee featured Kurt in the spotlight facing some dilemma, I’m not upset about the candidate being targeted or about Archie moving to protect someone who might be marginalized in many areas of the country.
Again, I think there’s a worthy lesson here. “Treat others the way you want to be treated.” Perhaps it’s “Everyone has value.”
What actually got me irritated is the gun control angle. Having the gun control advocate suffer an attempted assassination, and the title character dying by gunshot as a result, seems a ridiculously obvious effort to make an appeal to stricter laws. “Oh the horror of gun violence! If only we could pass more laws to protect ourselves! Don’t let Archie’s death be for nothing!”
In Chicago, Illinois, my hometown, over the weekend of the 4th of July, there were 82 injuries and 14 deaths by shooting. Chicago also happens to be known for its (excessively?) strict laws about gun ownership. It’s not some cowboy state like Texas with a bunch of so-called “rednecks and crazies” strapping holsters to their belts and carrying rifles into stores. And yet, in the very city with some of the tightest gun control legislation in America, gun deaths and gun violence are constantly in the news.
Do we really think someone willing to murder another human being is going to suddenly take a step back and reconsider based on a new restriction on gun ownership? People who conduct drive-by shootings, when a new law gets passed are they going to open their eyes and declare, “Oh geez, I probably shouldn’t have sub-machine guns” or something? I’m sure that gang members routinely read over the latest legislation to ensure proper compliance. “Hey mang, it looks like we gotta store the bullets separate from the gun, and the guns gotta have a lock on the trigger so some kid doesn’t accidentally shoot himself. Good thing I checked the laws; I’d hate to be an irresponsible gun owner.”
Even the plot of the Archie comic reveals how utterly thoughtless is this line of logic.
Are we supposed to believe that an individual willing to assassinate a political candidate in person, up close, in public is going to be afraid to break a law concerning possessing a firearm?
Stories can certainly convey meaningful messages about beliefs and ideas, be they religious, political, social, or cultural. But good story comes first, not a ham-fisted message with a veneer of a plot draped over it. Preaching in a story is creative writing kryptonite. That’s why this smacks of a publicity stunt, and as a result, the “Archie’s death” comic is completely cheapened.
Fool me once, Superman, shame on me. Fool me twice, Archie? Not happening.
The home of David M. Williamson, writer of fantasy, sci-fi, short stories, and cultural rants.
