Tag: reform

As long as we don’t take it too seriously ranting may be all we have left as a productive political activity. Sure, organizing and all that is a good thing–but on what basis? On the left, where most of us here live, there is no solid intellectual framework for us to rest. In America Marxism never took hold though it provides us with an excellent frame of analysis of our current system but it isn’t the only one. I prefer our native pragmatism which can step outside of systems and allow the “data” to guide us to see patterns. Marxism is useful to orient us but I don’t think it offers, as a general intellectual framework, a system that works for the current environment. Still, I consider Marxists the most valuable contributors to the project of the left. Certainly the time for liberalism is over because reform, in all foreseeable political arrangements is now impossible.

On this the day of the full-moon I urge that we howl at the Moon and rant. Ranting is a way to find out what we really think un-censored from the super-ego which in this country is fraying anyway and won’t last too much longer. We need to touch the truth and to touch it we need to find an authentic place in each of us. We need a new dispensation and that will only be made clear by a process of de-programming ourselves from the current discourse.

Let me be provocative here. I think the time to say “it isn’t fair” is over. It’s time to stop with careful analysis of the political situation when we lack a strong framework. The criticism from the American left always comes down to some moral complaint–that the rulers are, in some way, immoral. Really? I think that’s a pointless and bootless complaint. The problem is in the system that has emerged, not in the people that run it. The system has been constructed to meet a need on the part of the oligarchs to bring stability to their power-positions (not only them personally but their families as well) on the one hand–and on the other hand the need of the vast majority of the American people to take away their responsibilities as citizens because to try and understand the world around them without a solid framework of certainties is simply too painful–thus they want to be assured that they are indeed brave and virtuous when really they are, increasingly (by historical standards) quite the opposite because their focus in life is to have their job and their cable-TV where they can live in fantasies. Most people want to live in fantasies because reality is, to most of us (myself included), almost incomprehensible. This is enforced by a system of laws, cultural practices, structures like “security” (which reflect a profound collective cowardice) which gradually are eliminating any semblance of freedom as envisaged by the Founders. In short, to put it bluntly, we have to face the fact that the majority of the American people (in my view) consciously or unconsciously want to be in chains–it is the only conclusion that I can reached based on the data in front of me.

The only answer I have is to rant.  

We often think people are motivated to do something solely by facts alone.  Instead, they are spurred to action by the feeling these facts produce.  People make choices and decisions based to some extent on figures and concrete details, but it is the emotional impact these soberly presented bits of information create that really matters.  It has been noted many times before that polls and other human-made means of discernment have limits because no one can truly understand what lies inside a voter’s heart.  This, in part, is what I mean.  Unlike the typical columnist, I do not intend to use this introduction as a segue-way to rip into President Obama and the ineffectiveness of the (for now) Democratic-controlled Congress.  Rather, I’d like to go well beyond.

The 1961 Luis Buñuel film, Viridiana, concerns the pious exploits of a young nun who lives in a small village.  Meaning to do good in imitation of Jesus’ ministry, Viridiana leaves the convent and decides to take charge of the moral education of the village’s paupers.  Despite her best intentions, she finds herself exploited, abused, and taken advantage of at every possible turn.  Efforts undertaken to educate the village paupers in morality are an exercise in futility, a clear example of throwing pearls before swine.  After the combined shock of multifarious trauma, Viridiana (Latin for Green) seemingly succumbs to the sin of the world by the film’s conclusion.  Noted reviewer Bosley Crowther of The New York Times wrote at the time: “The theme is that well-intended charity can often be badly misplaced by innocent, pious people. Therefore, beware of charity.”        

In response to my prior piece about Medicare and doctors, I received an e-mail from a physician.  I will summarize her response below.

Something not particularly well known about Social Security Disability is that after two years, a disabled person, regardless of age, is eligible for Medicare.  An eligible person isn’t just given the option, he or she is automatically moved to the program unless he or she specifically declines it.  Until that point, a disabled person usually has to make do with Medicaid and all of its maddening restrictions and budget shortfalls.  One would think that the ability to transition to a better program for health insurance would be reason for celebration.  In some ways, it is, but in unexpected ways, it has not proven to be been appreciably better.

What follows is something that has been weighing on me heavily this morning.  Discussing the act of vocal ministry, a Friend noted that, while in the act of sharing a message, we aren’t just God’s mouthpiece, we are God.  This makes me uncomfortable to contemplate.  I would never wish to even come close to hinting that my mortal self was anything near to the Divine.  While I do seek that which is God in others, I am far more comfortable emphasizing my own mortal self.  Due to lots of soul-searching I know where my place is in the cosmos, and I would never grasp for a mantle that is not mine to embrace.  Moreover, I would not take it on if I could, because I do not possess the human strength to bear the burden.  

I appreciate the opportunity now laid before the American people to have a long overdue discussion on race.  Prior opportunities like these have come and gone but, pardon my skepticism, I still don’t think many of us are willing to commit to it.  Doing so would explode a variety of myths, particularly ones held by those who enjoy patting themselves on the back for a job well done.  Jobs this complex cannot be undone by one movement alone.

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable:  “Two men went to the Temple to pray. One was a Pharisee, and the other was a despised tax collector.  The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men–robbers, evildoers, adulterers–or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week, and I give a tenth of my entire income.’

“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’  “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

This morning I read that lawmakers are on final approach for banking reform.  

Last night, voters rejected the Washington, DC, establishment, signaling an electorate eager to take out its anger on political insiders of both parties.  Channeling dissatisfaction with the nation’s capital has long been the meal ticket for candidates espousing a strong populist streak.  Such is the nature of this election cycle.  Having established that, I thought I might try to add my own perspective as to why Washington runs the way it does.  Close to a year spent here has given me ample opportunity to observe many of its idiosyncrasies and quirks.  While I have certainly not been privy to the private world of the federal government, I have experienced a multitude of other meetings, gatherings, and functions which have inadvertently or deliberately mirrored that of the seat of power.