....I read this excerpt from William Kristol's New York Times column this morning:
"But I also have to admit that I look forward to Obama’s inauguration with a surprising degree of hope and good cheer."
Anything that gives Kristol hope and good cheer gives me pause.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Marriage Equality = Religious Freedom
Marriage equality is more than simply a civil rights issue. For me, it's a core religious conviction. The threads of love are woven exactly the same for gay and lesbian couples as they are for straight couples. They have the same expressions of love and support, and the same frustrations and struggles as anybody else. When our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters are denied the right to marry, it diminishes the institution of marriage, and while it may not diminish my freedom of religious expression, it diminishes my religion, Unitarian Universalism.
The Unitarian Universalist Association, in addition to several liberal Christian organizations, such as the United Church of Christ, has made strong pronouncements in favor of marriage equality. My congregation, Bell Street Chapel, has married many gay and lesbian couples during the seven years I've been a member, and, by congregational vote, made a strong proclamation on favor of marriage equality in 2004. Yet, the State of Rhode Island does not recognize their marriages because it has chosen to place one set of religious values above another. Bishop Tobin and Rick Warren have every right to deny marriage within their own religious institutions, but why should they have say over my religious institution.
The Unitarian Universalist Church is hardly a fringe religion. It was the religion of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, of Susan B. Anthony and Clara Barton, and of Ralph Waldo Emerson and John Dewey. This year, Randy Pausch, a Unitarian Universalist, who gave his famous "last lecture" at Carnegie Mellon University, was voted beliefnet's Most Inspirational Person of the year award. Unitarians and Universalists have shaped the political, social, and cultural life in the United States since its inception.
In fact, the constutution of the United States is imbued with the core values of Unitarian Universalsim. Barack Obama referred to UU principles in his "A More Perfect Union" speech; "Of course, the answer to the slavery question was already embedded within our Constitution - a Constitution that had at its very core the ideal of equal citizenship under the law; a Constitution that promised its people liberty, and justice, and a union that could be and should be perfected over time." Unitarian Universalists have both an abiding call to justice and equality, and to the belief that we can improve over time, that we are never perfected.
So why doesn't the State of Rhode Island honor my religious values and principles? Why doesn't the state of Rhode Island allow all religious institutions to marry whomever they choose? Let the State of Rhode Island give everyone civil unions, and let Rhode Island's churches marry whichever couples they choose. Let Rhode Island truly be the bastion of religious freedom it was founded to be.
The Unitarian Universalist Association, in addition to several liberal Christian organizations, such as the United Church of Christ, has made strong pronouncements in favor of marriage equality. My congregation, Bell Street Chapel, has married many gay and lesbian couples during the seven years I've been a member, and, by congregational vote, made a strong proclamation on favor of marriage equality in 2004. Yet, the State of Rhode Island does not recognize their marriages because it has chosen to place one set of religious values above another. Bishop Tobin and Rick Warren have every right to deny marriage within their own religious institutions, but why should they have say over my religious institution.
The Unitarian Universalist Church is hardly a fringe religion. It was the religion of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, of Susan B. Anthony and Clara Barton, and of Ralph Waldo Emerson and John Dewey. This year, Randy Pausch, a Unitarian Universalist, who gave his famous "last lecture" at Carnegie Mellon University, was voted beliefnet's Most Inspirational Person of the year award. Unitarians and Universalists have shaped the political, social, and cultural life in the United States since its inception.
In fact, the constutution of the United States is imbued with the core values of Unitarian Universalsim. Barack Obama referred to UU principles in his "A More Perfect Union" speech; "Of course, the answer to the slavery question was already embedded within our Constitution - a Constitution that had at its very core the ideal of equal citizenship under the law; a Constitution that promised its people liberty, and justice, and a union that could be and should be perfected over time." Unitarian Universalists have both an abiding call to justice and equality, and to the belief that we can improve over time, that we are never perfected.
So why doesn't the State of Rhode Island honor my religious values and principles? Why doesn't the state of Rhode Island allow all religious institutions to marry whomever they choose? Let the State of Rhode Island give everyone civil unions, and let Rhode Island's churches marry whichever couples they choose. Let Rhode Island truly be the bastion of religious freedom it was founded to be.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
thinking about facebook, part two
One of the unique things about facebook is that it creates a common virtual culture. I recently saw Neil Young and Wilco in concert in Worcester, MA. I was able to discuss the event with people in other cities who either had just seen the concert, or going to the concert in a few days. The next night, I went to a beer dinner at Julians that featured some very rare and exceptional beers. I was able to share information with another handful of friends who are beer connoisseurs. Just this morning, I was able to commiserate with people who share my habit of shopping at the last possible minute!
Frequently, this information comes in the form of status updates, whereby people publicly broadcast (to their friends and networks) what they are doing at any particular moment in time.
We are a culture increasingly open to, and suportive of, public disclosure. When I talk to my parents or other people of their generation, I'm struck by the stark differences between what they consider publicly acceptable disclosure, and what I do. To my parents' generation, personal information is a closely guarded secret, only doled out slowly to the closest of friends and family, if at all. It is rude and in bad taste to discuss personal information, even with close friends. It is a sign of weakness to talk about your feelings, even with a spouse. Even therapy is considered an uncomfortable public disclosure. My generation, and younger generations to an even greater degree, feels much more comfortable talking about both feelings and personal information.
I'm not entirely sure if this line between public and private discourse is constantly shifting toward public discourse or oscillating back and forth between the two. Maybe I should go back and read Foucault to find some clues. I'm not going to be an alarmist that shouts the world is going to hell because of a paradigm shift. When society changes, something is always lost, but something more is usually gained.
Frequently, this information comes in the form of status updates, whereby people publicly broadcast (to their friends and networks) what they are doing at any particular moment in time.
We are a culture increasingly open to, and suportive of, public disclosure. When I talk to my parents or other people of their generation, I'm struck by the stark differences between what they consider publicly acceptable disclosure, and what I do. To my parents' generation, personal information is a closely guarded secret, only doled out slowly to the closest of friends and family, if at all. It is rude and in bad taste to discuss personal information, even with close friends. It is a sign of weakness to talk about your feelings, even with a spouse. Even therapy is considered an uncomfortable public disclosure. My generation, and younger generations to an even greater degree, feels much more comfortable talking about both feelings and personal information.
I'm not entirely sure if this line between public and private discourse is constantly shifting toward public discourse or oscillating back and forth between the two. Maybe I should go back and read Foucault to find some clues. I'm not going to be an alarmist that shouts the world is going to hell because of a paradigm shift. When society changes, something is always lost, but something more is usually gained.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Wilco and Obama
In anticipation of the Neil Young/Wilco show tonight, I bring this video of my favorite band and favorite politician on stage at the same time. OK, I'll grant you the video is 3 months old, was made for an election now a month old, and is not their best version of "The Late Greats", but it's my damn blog and I'm including it anyway!
John Stewart and Mike Huckabee on marriage equality
John Stewart is great here. He's respectful of Huckabee, but makes Huckabee and his view on marriage equality seem small with the strength of his argument.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Why isn't Milk playing in any theatre closer than Brookline?
I'm really confused about this. Milk went into nationwide release last Friday, yet there are only two theatres in all of Rhode Island and Massachusetts that are playing the movie, both obscure art house theatres in and around Boston. This is a movie with oscar buzz, famous stars (Sean Penn, James Franco, and Emile Hirsch), and a famous director (Gus Van Zandt). It is also the most highly anticipated movie amongst my friends in quite some time. Now, I'll grant you I live in an uber-progressive, uber pro-gay rights bubble, but still, the movie has at least as much buzz as Brokeback Mountain. Maybe there is some rational reason why I have to drive an hour to see this movie, but I haven't heard it yet. I don't know if theatres are limiting the release of Milk for political reasons, but if they are, than the implications scare the hell out of me.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Public vs. private in the digital world and....Do I believe?
Something unusual just happened to me. Someone, in a forum entirely unrelated to religion, just emailed me to chastise me for my religious views. The email was interesting on a few levels.
The person who emailed me was someone I don't know and have never met. She felt it was OK to take me to task for my religious convictions. It speaks to the interesting and often jumbled mix of private and public personae in the digital world. I wrote some of my core convictions on a website, which can be accessed by the public, yet random public commentary of others is considered invasive. What are the boundaries of privacy in the digital world? While I feel fairly certain that random commentary about other people's beliefs, outside of forums that are dedicated to that commentary, is socially unacceptable, I also believe that the lines are blurring. Although personal conscience, not ettiqutte, should be the ultimate authority to guide our behavior, a set of rules that outline the socially acceptable would be very beneficial to navigating the digital world.
In the email itself, the person called me to task on my "lack of faith" and said that for me, there "is no God" in a response to my self description as a religious agnostic. Although I know this is a random email from someone I don't know with a sketchy set of boundaries, I'm still wrestling with those descriptions. I don't feel as though they fit me, but I'm having a difficult time articulating why they don't. While I am fairly certain there isn't a god who "pulls the strings" of the world, I would not call myself an athiest. We are connected by forces beyond our understanding, and we owe ourselves, each other, and the world our best selves, not because of some distant reward, but because it will make life more interesting, rich, and bountiful. We are called to evolve and change because the world evolves and changes. While I may lack faith in God as defined by the emailer, I have a deep abiding faith in that call to change and evolve.
The person who emailed me was someone I don't know and have never met. She felt it was OK to take me to task for my religious convictions. It speaks to the interesting and often jumbled mix of private and public personae in the digital world. I wrote some of my core convictions on a website, which can be accessed by the public, yet random public commentary of others is considered invasive. What are the boundaries of privacy in the digital world? While I feel fairly certain that random commentary about other people's beliefs, outside of forums that are dedicated to that commentary, is socially unacceptable, I also believe that the lines are blurring. Although personal conscience, not ettiqutte, should be the ultimate authority to guide our behavior, a set of rules that outline the socially acceptable would be very beneficial to navigating the digital world.
In the email itself, the person called me to task on my "lack of faith" and said that for me, there "is no God" in a response to my self description as a religious agnostic. Although I know this is a random email from someone I don't know with a sketchy set of boundaries, I'm still wrestling with those descriptions. I don't feel as though they fit me, but I'm having a difficult time articulating why they don't. While I am fairly certain there isn't a god who "pulls the strings" of the world, I would not call myself an athiest. We are connected by forces beyond our understanding, and we owe ourselves, each other, and the world our best selves, not because of some distant reward, but because it will make life more interesting, rich, and bountiful. We are called to evolve and change because the world evolves and changes. While I may lack faith in God as defined by the emailer, I have a deep abiding faith in that call to change and evolve.
Tasty!
For any beer geeks out there, try the Harpoon's Leviathan Series. It has exceeded expectations for me. Their Baltic Porter, Triticus Wheat Wine, and IPA have all been excellent offerings that far exceed anything else the brewery has done. Cheers!
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Theologians they don't know nothing about my soul- Jeff Tweedy
I have a confession to make. Although I am a committed Unitarian Universalist (UU) who has had a number of leadership positions in my congregation, I know very little about UU theology, or about theology in general. I can't say for sure where my personal beliefs lie, only that they lie somewhere in that wide chasm between athiesm and theism called agnosticism. Although I do read spiritually oriented books, in all honesty, I read 3-4 times as many politically oriented books, and about as many sports related books. What theology I do have is cobbled together from a wide variety of sources that grab and speak to me individually, but do not coalesce into anything coherent.
I think that overall, my lack of a coherent theology is a good thing. I do have a series of deeply held beliefs, even if I can't always speak to their intellectual or spiritual justification. Like Emerson, I believe that I am the best judge of my life and my place in the world.
I think in many ways, my lack of a coherent theology mirrors that of many other UU's. Still though, that lack of a coherent theology is the reason Unitarian Universalism is such a transient religion, why so many people who join eventually leave. Is it possible to nourish spiritually without a coherent theology? The religions that attract the most people seem to have the most concrete theologies, the easist answers. Easy answers have a strong appeal in a complex world, and religious fundamentalism is on the rise. How can we make the spiritually complex as appealing and nourishing as the simple theology of fundamentalism? I'm not sure that's a question we can afford to leave to the theologians.
I think that overall, my lack of a coherent theology is a good thing. I do have a series of deeply held beliefs, even if I can't always speak to their intellectual or spiritual justification. Like Emerson, I believe that I am the best judge of my life and my place in the world.
I think in many ways, my lack of a coherent theology mirrors that of many other UU's. Still though, that lack of a coherent theology is the reason Unitarian Universalism is such a transient religion, why so many people who join eventually leave. Is it possible to nourish spiritually without a coherent theology? The religions that attract the most people seem to have the most concrete theologies, the easist answers. Easy answers have a strong appeal in a complex world, and religious fundamentalism is on the rise. How can we make the spiritually complex as appealing and nourishing as the simple theology of fundamentalism? I'm not sure that's a question we can afford to leave to the theologians.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Thinking about facebook
Over the past few months, I have become a daily user of facebook. During that time, I have reconnected with scores of old friends from high school to grad school to California, where I lived for 3 years in my late twenties. While facebook may be a less elegant way to remain in touch than pen and paper, it is a much more effective one. Although I use facebook daily, I remain uneasy about its impact in our lives. Right now, it is the primary way I keep in touch with people with whom I would have little or no relationship otherwise, but I'm wondering when and if it will replace real, actual interactions with other people, my local friends, the people I now see regularly...
Monday, December 1, 2008
Obama and "Otherization"
For the past several years, I have encountered people who have helped me onward in my spiritual journey, often in specific ways. Tich Nat Hanh's writings taught me about mindfulness and anger. Hafiz has taught me to celebrate and glory at our creation. Emerson has taught me about the individual journey, and Ghandi and King the communal journey. All have acted as a spiritual guide to me for the past few years, through times of joy and pain. For the past few months, Barack Obama has been such a figure.
A few years ago, before he announced his candidacy for president, I read Obama's "Dreams from My Father" a memoir he wrote about identity and place. I was impressed with his ability to integrate the lessons from his life into practice. I was more impressed with his ability to empathize, to step into people's shoes. He seemed to really try to step into other people's shoes, to understand their views and their stories. He listened.
Obama demonstrated this quality during the campaign in even stronger measure than in his book. He constantly reached out to those who rejected him, who "otherized" him. He refused to do so in kind. He refused to dehumanize his opponents or their beliefs. He spoke to the good in others even when he disagreed with them. Of course, he criticed Republican policies and even the abilities of Republican leaders. He made some mistakes, but for the most part, he treated his opponents and their supporters with dignity and respect, with grace, even when that grace was not reciprocated.
It is a lesson I am still trying to learn. Many people I know and admire, including some of my closest friends, have not yet learned this lesson. To them, George Bush is a bogeyman who can do no right and Republicans are either evil money-grubbers who want to make the world a worse place or crazy religious nuts who want to take away our civil liberties. That is not a productive place to start dialogue.
While I believe the Bush Administration has done signifigant damage to the United States' international reputation, I also believe that the administration has been agressive tackling the African AIDS crises, far more so than Clinton's was. I don't think I could have made that statement 6 months ago. I don't think I would have made that statement without listening closely to Barack Obama.
The "otherization" of people is, and always has been, one of the great dangers in the world, and in my mind, the greatest. If there is evil in this world (another topic for another day), it's heart is in the "otherization" of our fellow men and women. It has caused wars, slavery, prositution, and terorism. Although sitting around a coffee shop talking about how much Bush and Cheney "suck" may be a relatively benign example of "otherization", it is still a point on a continuum that has an only negative direction.
The trick is, how do I keep my voice loud and strong, for improved education, for marriage equality, for peace and social justice, without "otherizing" those who would stop me? I don't know the answer to that, but I believe it might start with a beer, a handshake, and some listening.
A few years ago, before he announced his candidacy for president, I read Obama's "Dreams from My Father" a memoir he wrote about identity and place. I was impressed with his ability to integrate the lessons from his life into practice. I was more impressed with his ability to empathize, to step into people's shoes. He seemed to really try to step into other people's shoes, to understand their views and their stories. He listened.
Obama demonstrated this quality during the campaign in even stronger measure than in his book. He constantly reached out to those who rejected him, who "otherized" him. He refused to do so in kind. He refused to dehumanize his opponents or their beliefs. He spoke to the good in others even when he disagreed with them. Of course, he criticed Republican policies and even the abilities of Republican leaders. He made some mistakes, but for the most part, he treated his opponents and their supporters with dignity and respect, with grace, even when that grace was not reciprocated.
It is a lesson I am still trying to learn. Many people I know and admire, including some of my closest friends, have not yet learned this lesson. To them, George Bush is a bogeyman who can do no right and Republicans are either evil money-grubbers who want to make the world a worse place or crazy religious nuts who want to take away our civil liberties. That is not a productive place to start dialogue.
While I believe the Bush Administration has done signifigant damage to the United States' international reputation, I also believe that the administration has been agressive tackling the African AIDS crises, far more so than Clinton's was. I don't think I could have made that statement 6 months ago. I don't think I would have made that statement without listening closely to Barack Obama.
The "otherization" of people is, and always has been, one of the great dangers in the world, and in my mind, the greatest. If there is evil in this world (another topic for another day), it's heart is in the "otherization" of our fellow men and women. It has caused wars, slavery, prositution, and terorism. Although sitting around a coffee shop talking about how much Bush and Cheney "suck" may be a relatively benign example of "otherization", it is still a point on a continuum that has an only negative direction.
The trick is, how do I keep my voice loud and strong, for improved education, for marriage equality, for peace and social justice, without "otherizing" those who would stop me? I don't know the answer to that, but I believe it might start with a beer, a handshake, and some listening.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to prosper- Ben Franklin
Drinking great beer is one of my favorite hobbies. I go to tastings weekly, I try new beers with a group of friends monthly, and I go to dinners and festivals regularly.
I love beer for a number of reasons. It's a social drink. You go to the pub and have a pint and talk the the person next to you. I find beer countries to be open and friendly. Beer is also cheap. An exceptional bottle of beer costs $8-15, less than the cost of an average bottle of wine. Beer also has incredible range and can go from light to dark, sweet to sour, low alcohol to over 20 percent. Beer is a creative venture. Brewers create new beers and explore new techniques all the time, yet there are styles that have existed for over 1000 years.
From time to time, I will post information on different beers or beer events. I don't have a particular favorite style, but some of my favorites are Russian Imperial Stouts, Belgian Strong Ales, and India Pale Ales. Cheers!
I love beer for a number of reasons. It's a social drink. You go to the pub and have a pint and talk the the person next to you. I find beer countries to be open and friendly. Beer is also cheap. An exceptional bottle of beer costs $8-15, less than the cost of an average bottle of wine. Beer also has incredible range and can go from light to dark, sweet to sour, low alcohol to over 20 percent. Beer is a creative venture. Brewers create new beers and explore new techniques all the time, yet there are styles that have existed for over 1000 years.
From time to time, I will post information on different beers or beer events. I don't have a particular favorite style, but some of my favorites are Russian Imperial Stouts, Belgian Strong Ales, and India Pale Ales. Cheers!
I love this guy
This is Jon Lajoie, a French-canadian comedian who makes music videos for youtube. As far as I know, his only outlet to date is youtube. His videos are hilarious exercises on contrasts. Be warned, he is VERY raunchy.
Warning: Video contains profanity
Warning: Video contains profanity
On the cusp of a new American moment
A piece I wrote on the eve of the election:
I have had two full-time jobs the fast few months. In addition to my job as a tutor (the one that pays the bills), I have also been a full-time election addict, splitting my time in the blogosphere trying to decide if the minute gaffe Joe Biden made on Tuesday (really, on any day) has cost Obama’s chance at victory to slip from 96.4% to 94.9% on 538.com. Nate Silver has become our national electoral therapist. I wake up to the polls every morning, and routinely check liberal blogs several times per day. For my part, I have also canvassed New Hampshire five times and have called more than 2000 people in support of Pre…I mean Senator Obama.
I have finally let it sink in that, barring unforeseeable circumstances, Barack Obama will become the 44th president of the United States. The vaunted McCain comeback did not happen. Obama is widening his lead in the national polls. If you only cherry picked the state polls most favorable to McCain, Obama would STILL have over 300 electoral votes. Barack Obama has a better chance of winning Arizona than McCain has of winning Pennsylvania, Colorado, or Nevada. The only question most pollsters have will be where on the continuum Obama’s victory will lie, from a 3%, 286-252 electoral college victory to a 12%, 400-138 blowout.
Like so many other people out there, this election feels deeply personal to me, so much so that I sometimes tear up a little thinking about an Obama victory, and sing “We Will Overcome” in the car. I am not alone. I have spoken to many others who share my obsession. CNN even had a news segment on EOS, Election Obsession Syndrome.
The question is why? Certainly, part of the answer is Senator Obama himself, and his historic candidacy. He is the singularly most impressive political talent I have ever seen. Obama combines a keen intellect, a reassuring temperament, a soaring oratory, and a fundamental decency. He is able to balance icy resolve and pragmatic determination with idealism and optimism, an incredibly lethal combination. He has allowed the Clinton and Republican machines to defeat themselves while incurring barely a scratch (his approval ratings actually IMPROVED during the Ayers/terrorist/socialist silly season). He does it was with a preternatural calm and a disarming smile.
He is also the man of the moment. What an Obama victory tells the world about America, and tells America about itself, is urgently important to our collective identity. An Obama victory tells the world that America does not equal Bush and Cheney, and that America values cooperation and communication. We will listen. An Obama victory tells Americans that we have turned the page of the divisiveness of the last 40 years, and that we have embraced the diversity that is changing the American landscape. His victory will help heal racial wounds that have been open for decades. Barack Obama is the face of America's future.
An Obama victory will signal a new American moment. I think this moment, even more than Obama himself, has fueled my emotional connection to this election. Because this new American moment is mine. Ours. This moment is a testament to our wonderful diversity, which, like Obama’s face and family, is of colors of every hue.
It is also a moment of the liberal fusion of reason and emotion. Since Kennedy, Democratic candidates have spectacularly failed to emotionally connect with Americans, with the notable exception of Clinton, whose emotional connection was more personal than liberal. Reagan and Bush were the feel good connectors. Obama combines that personal connection with an oratory unseen since King. Obama has changed the landscape, and has found a language, OUR LANGUAGE, to describe a progressive vision of America that resonates on both an emotional and intellectual level.
Finally, in this moment, we can put an end to the liberal/conservative trench warfare that has defined our country since Vietnam. Obama is progressive, more progressive in fact, than any candidate in our lifetime. But he is not partisan. He is more of a "small d" democrat than a "big D" Democrat. He is willing to reach across the metaphorical aisle and embrace voters who Democrats have long ago stopped trying to reach. That’s why he has a chance to win the kind of massive electoral victory undreamed of by Democrats in over 40 years. Since 1980, Democrats have been afraid of themselves and their beliefs. They have allowed liberal to become a dirty word. Gore, Kerry, and Clinton all had the stench of political fear, afraid if they were to reveal their true selves, they would lose their elections. None of them ever articulated a full throated support of progressive taxation, universal health care, or collective responsibility for fear these messages would not resonate. They were wrong. Obama does not have the stench of fear. He has the scent of hope and optimism, and has lifted these important but long forgotten values onto American consciousness. Obama is also not afraid to embrace “conservative” ideas such as individual responsibility. Of course, individual responsibility is also a progressive value, but no progressive has talked about it for 40 years, because in the war for America’s soul during the Vietnam era, personal responsibility fell on the side of Nixon’s silent majority, and has stayed there ever since.
I also think in this moment, we are seeing the extinction burst of the hysterical right. An extinction burst is a behavioral term that describes a spike in a behavior right before it extinguishes. I think this is what we are seeing at the McCain/Palin rallies and in the angry delusional rhetoric of the Rush Limbaughs and Shean Hannitys of the world. They sense their moment is over. They are angry and hurting, and are taking their last shots before they recede into acceptance. Of course, there is a dangerous strain out there of those who will not accept, and they need to be watched closely. Some will not accept that their moment has passed by. But is has. The moment is ours. But if we use this moment to lord it over the Hannitys and Limbaughs, we risk creating the same rift in the country that happened to our parents’ generation 40 years ago. We can use this moment to bring out our better angels. We can use our moment to heal and to help, to embrace those we are inclined to reject. Obama has. We can too. Yes we can!!!!!!
I have had two full-time jobs the fast few months. In addition to my job as a tutor (the one that pays the bills), I have also been a full-time election addict, splitting my time in the blogosphere trying to decide if the minute gaffe Joe Biden made on Tuesday (really, on any day) has cost Obama’s chance at victory to slip from 96.4% to 94.9% on 538.com. Nate Silver has become our national electoral therapist. I wake up to the polls every morning, and routinely check liberal blogs several times per day. For my part, I have also canvassed New Hampshire five times and have called more than 2000 people in support of Pre…I mean Senator Obama.
I have finally let it sink in that, barring unforeseeable circumstances, Barack Obama will become the 44th president of the United States. The vaunted McCain comeback did not happen. Obama is widening his lead in the national polls. If you only cherry picked the state polls most favorable to McCain, Obama would STILL have over 300 electoral votes. Barack Obama has a better chance of winning Arizona than McCain has of winning Pennsylvania, Colorado, or Nevada. The only question most pollsters have will be where on the continuum Obama’s victory will lie, from a 3%, 286-252 electoral college victory to a 12%, 400-138 blowout.
Like so many other people out there, this election feels deeply personal to me, so much so that I sometimes tear up a little thinking about an Obama victory, and sing “We Will Overcome” in the car. I am not alone. I have spoken to many others who share my obsession. CNN even had a news segment on EOS, Election Obsession Syndrome.
The question is why? Certainly, part of the answer is Senator Obama himself, and his historic candidacy. He is the singularly most impressive political talent I have ever seen. Obama combines a keen intellect, a reassuring temperament, a soaring oratory, and a fundamental decency. He is able to balance icy resolve and pragmatic determination with idealism and optimism, an incredibly lethal combination. He has allowed the Clinton and Republican machines to defeat themselves while incurring barely a scratch (his approval ratings actually IMPROVED during the Ayers/terrorist/socialist silly season). He does it was with a preternatural calm and a disarming smile.
He is also the man of the moment. What an Obama victory tells the world about America, and tells America about itself, is urgently important to our collective identity. An Obama victory tells the world that America does not equal Bush and Cheney, and that America values cooperation and communication. We will listen. An Obama victory tells Americans that we have turned the page of the divisiveness of the last 40 years, and that we have embraced the diversity that is changing the American landscape. His victory will help heal racial wounds that have been open for decades. Barack Obama is the face of America's future.
An Obama victory will signal a new American moment. I think this moment, even more than Obama himself, has fueled my emotional connection to this election. Because this new American moment is mine. Ours. This moment is a testament to our wonderful diversity, which, like Obama’s face and family, is of colors of every hue.
It is also a moment of the liberal fusion of reason and emotion. Since Kennedy, Democratic candidates have spectacularly failed to emotionally connect with Americans, with the notable exception of Clinton, whose emotional connection was more personal than liberal. Reagan and Bush were the feel good connectors. Obama combines that personal connection with an oratory unseen since King. Obama has changed the landscape, and has found a language, OUR LANGUAGE, to describe a progressive vision of America that resonates on both an emotional and intellectual level.
Finally, in this moment, we can put an end to the liberal/conservative trench warfare that has defined our country since Vietnam. Obama is progressive, more progressive in fact, than any candidate in our lifetime. But he is not partisan. He is more of a "small d" democrat than a "big D" Democrat. He is willing to reach across the metaphorical aisle and embrace voters who Democrats have long ago stopped trying to reach. That’s why he has a chance to win the kind of massive electoral victory undreamed of by Democrats in over 40 years. Since 1980, Democrats have been afraid of themselves and their beliefs. They have allowed liberal to become a dirty word. Gore, Kerry, and Clinton all had the stench of political fear, afraid if they were to reveal their true selves, they would lose their elections. None of them ever articulated a full throated support of progressive taxation, universal health care, or collective responsibility for fear these messages would not resonate. They were wrong. Obama does not have the stench of fear. He has the scent of hope and optimism, and has lifted these important but long forgotten values onto American consciousness. Obama is also not afraid to embrace “conservative” ideas such as individual responsibility. Of course, individual responsibility is also a progressive value, but no progressive has talked about it for 40 years, because in the war for America’s soul during the Vietnam era, personal responsibility fell on the side of Nixon’s silent majority, and has stayed there ever since.
I also think in this moment, we are seeing the extinction burst of the hysterical right. An extinction burst is a behavioral term that describes a spike in a behavior right before it extinguishes. I think this is what we are seeing at the McCain/Palin rallies and in the angry delusional rhetoric of the Rush Limbaughs and Shean Hannitys of the world. They sense their moment is over. They are angry and hurting, and are taking their last shots before they recede into acceptance. Of course, there is a dangerous strain out there of those who will not accept, and they need to be watched closely. Some will not accept that their moment has passed by. But is has. The moment is ours. But if we use this moment to lord it over the Hannitys and Limbaughs, we risk creating the same rift in the country that happened to our parents’ generation 40 years ago. We can use this moment to bring out our better angels. We can use our moment to heal and to help, to embrace those we are inclined to reject. Obama has. We can too. Yes we can!!!!!!
Pilgrim mind
I spent a month in Europe this past summer. When I returned, I gave a sermon at my church, Bell Street Chapel. This is the text:
A week before I left on my journey to Europe, I was talking about my trip with Lee Clasper Torch, a religion teacher at Moses Brown. He said that there were two different mindsets people bring to a journey, “Tourist Mind” and “Pilgrim Mind”. Although I had a sense of what he was talking about, I did not understand what he meant in any way that I could put into words. After two months of travel and reflection, I think I finally understand.
When you have a tourist mind, your primary role is that of consumer. You consume a cultural experience, whether that experience is a museum, a tour, or a pre-set three-course meal from a “tourist menu.” The people you meet are there to sell you a cultural experience. The tourist industry is, after all, an industry, and a large one at that. The people involved in the tourist industry aim to make money, whether they manage an intercontinental hotel, hock souvenirs, or organize city tours. It is an efficient industry, ushering people seamlessly from one cultural experience to another, away from the real lives of its city’s or town’s denizens. The tourist industry creates a barrier between person and place. Human connection, while not impossible, is found only in those narrow spaces between cultural experience and income. After a while, all the main tourist areas, Temple Bar in Dublin, The Royal Mile in Edinburgh, Grand Place in Brussels,and so on, all began to look the same, filled with the same kinds of souvenir stores, the same kinds of restaurants, and the same kinds of cheesy museums. The food and the souvenirs were different, but the feeling was the same.
There is nothing wrong with having a tourist mind. Many people, including myself, visit places to observe a culture or to see phenomenal sights. I went on my fair share of tours and museum trips. I even, regrettably, ate from a three-course tourist menu in Paris. But these pre-packaged experiences are not lasting or meaningful, at least not to me. They maintain our walls with other people, rather than bring them down.
When you have a pilgrim mind, your primary goal is not to consume prepackaged experiences but to create and learn from new and unique experiences. In the American heritage dictionary, one of the definitions for pilgrim is "One who embarks on a quest for something conceived of as sacred." This notion of a quest was an important one for my journey. In fact, I had several “quests” for my journey; for each city I visited, I tried to have a meaningful conversation with a local, exchange contact information with someone, and try the local food and drink. I reached my goals in all cities except Venice. I was also on a quest for the perfect beer. While I may or may not have found that beer in a 2000 Stille Nacht in Antwerp, my beer quest lead me to many a free beer, great conversations, and long nights of laughter. I was also on a quest to learn about myself, to see how I would fare visiting 14 cities in 8 countries with nothing but a 20-pound backpack. I had thought of some of my quests well in advance, but others only became clear to me throughout my journey.
The notion of the sacred was equally important. I found the sacred in all sorts of surprising places, both great and small. The first sacred place I found was, surprisingly, well, not that surprisingly to those who know me, in an empty bar, on the edge of the Dublin’s Temple Bar district during my second night. I had been to Temple Bar and Gogarty’s, large famous bars that were packed with tourists, Irish music, and expensive Guinness’s. While I enjoyed the music, I found it difficult to have a conversation in either one. I walked down the street and popped my head into an empty bar on the second floor above a restaurant. I turned to leave, but something told me to stay. So I did. I met George, the owner, a former engineer, who loves his wife and feels Dublin has lost its soul, despite its thriving economy. A couple of hours later, Darrough came to replace George. Darrough was younger and loved the new Dublin, and saw it brimming withpossibilities. Darrough, George, and I and talked to the wee hours of the night, way past closing time. It was the first of many such nights I had on my journey. Sometimes, it’s the quiet and empty spaces that have the most to offer.
I found the sacred in Paris. First, I must admit I struggled in Paris, despite my best efforts, which even included taking French for three months. I didn’t understand how people could charge 3 euro 50 for a coffee and found the people to be rude. However, on my second night, I saw one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen. On the pedestrian bridge across from the Louvre, hundreds of people gathered in groups of 6 or 8, with bread, cheese, wine, homemade food, and guitars, and picnicked. They were living life as it was meant to be lived, with friends and family in community, accompanied by good food, drink, and music. In that moment, I understood the romance so many people have with Paris.
I found the sacred in Rome, in a bar called “Ma Che Siete Venuti a Fa,” where the owner, Emanuele, sat with me for 3 hours and shared with me some of the world’s greatest beers, gave me a t-shirt, and refused to take a dime, because to him, the authenticity of my enthusiasm and appreciation was payment enough.
Everywhere I went I met people who were open, friendly and generous. These were not the people paid to provide me a cultural experience, but just normal, everyday people, some of them fellow travelers, but mostly just people I met in restaurants, bars, or parks who returned my hello, or initiated it.
To be alone in a foreign country can be a freeing experience. It can also be a vulnerable one. In order to connect with others, I often had to go outside of my comfort zone, to force myself to talk to people. I had to bring a pilgrim mind and an open heart. Each time I did though, the rewards far outweighed the drawbacks.
Without bringing a pilgrim mind and an open heart, I would not have met Viola, an Opera singer from Cologne, Germany, whom I spent a day with in Bruges and Oostende, laughing and walking barefoot on the beach. I now count Viola among my friends, and we’ve chatted regularly since my return.
I would not have met Anna, a young German woman taking her first vacation in seven years, who recently regained her family farm, more than 20 years after the East German government took it away. I would not have met Frank, a Czech writer struggling with the competing demands of marriage, children, a full-time job, and a dissertation.I would not have met Noemi, a pierced tattooed circus performer from Bologna, who said she likes Rome because people do not stare at her like she’s a freak, like they do in the rest of Italy.
And I would not have met Emanuele, the bar owner from Rome, who uses a common love of beer as an opportunity to practice radical hospitality.I learned from all of these people and many more.
Their main gifts to me were their openness, their willingness to engage. In order to receive their gifts, I had to be equally open. And that connection, that connection to others, I think, lies at the heart of my journey. I feel as though I left as a citizen of the United States, but I returned as a citizen of the world.
For all the amazing art, the enormous buildings, the rich history, and the varied landscapes, what I’ll remember most are the people I met, their smiles and their laughs, The conversations with and generosity of friends and strangers alike.
Although I have been back for more than a month, my journey isn’t finished yet. I don’t know who will remain in my life from the scores of people I met along the way, and I don’t know how I’ll integrate the lessons of trip into my everyday life. But I do know, that for a month anyway, as a pilgrim in a not so strange land, I was my better self, and I saw the best in others. I’m already planning my next journey to Southeast Asia next summer. But maybe, between journeys, I’ll show the next pilgrim I meet the same radical hospitality that so many people showed to me.
A week before I left on my journey to Europe, I was talking about my trip with Lee Clasper Torch, a religion teacher at Moses Brown. He said that there were two different mindsets people bring to a journey, “Tourist Mind” and “Pilgrim Mind”. Although I had a sense of what he was talking about, I did not understand what he meant in any way that I could put into words. After two months of travel and reflection, I think I finally understand.
When you have a tourist mind, your primary role is that of consumer. You consume a cultural experience, whether that experience is a museum, a tour, or a pre-set three-course meal from a “tourist menu.” The people you meet are there to sell you a cultural experience. The tourist industry is, after all, an industry, and a large one at that. The people involved in the tourist industry aim to make money, whether they manage an intercontinental hotel, hock souvenirs, or organize city tours. It is an efficient industry, ushering people seamlessly from one cultural experience to another, away from the real lives of its city’s or town’s denizens. The tourist industry creates a barrier between person and place. Human connection, while not impossible, is found only in those narrow spaces between cultural experience and income. After a while, all the main tourist areas, Temple Bar in Dublin, The Royal Mile in Edinburgh, Grand Place in Brussels,and so on, all began to look the same, filled with the same kinds of souvenir stores, the same kinds of restaurants, and the same kinds of cheesy museums. The food and the souvenirs were different, but the feeling was the same.
There is nothing wrong with having a tourist mind. Many people, including myself, visit places to observe a culture or to see phenomenal sights. I went on my fair share of tours and museum trips. I even, regrettably, ate from a three-course tourist menu in Paris. But these pre-packaged experiences are not lasting or meaningful, at least not to me. They maintain our walls with other people, rather than bring them down.
When you have a pilgrim mind, your primary goal is not to consume prepackaged experiences but to create and learn from new and unique experiences. In the American heritage dictionary, one of the definitions for pilgrim is "One who embarks on a quest for something conceived of as sacred." This notion of a quest was an important one for my journey. In fact, I had several “quests” for my journey; for each city I visited, I tried to have a meaningful conversation with a local, exchange contact information with someone, and try the local food and drink. I reached my goals in all cities except Venice. I was also on a quest for the perfect beer. While I may or may not have found that beer in a 2000 Stille Nacht in Antwerp, my beer quest lead me to many a free beer, great conversations, and long nights of laughter. I was also on a quest to learn about myself, to see how I would fare visiting 14 cities in 8 countries with nothing but a 20-pound backpack. I had thought of some of my quests well in advance, but others only became clear to me throughout my journey.
The notion of the sacred was equally important. I found the sacred in all sorts of surprising places, both great and small. The first sacred place I found was, surprisingly, well, not that surprisingly to those who know me, in an empty bar, on the edge of the Dublin’s Temple Bar district during my second night. I had been to Temple Bar and Gogarty’s, large famous bars that were packed with tourists, Irish music, and expensive Guinness’s. While I enjoyed the music, I found it difficult to have a conversation in either one. I walked down the street and popped my head into an empty bar on the second floor above a restaurant. I turned to leave, but something told me to stay. So I did. I met George, the owner, a former engineer, who loves his wife and feels Dublin has lost its soul, despite its thriving economy. A couple of hours later, Darrough came to replace George. Darrough was younger and loved the new Dublin, and saw it brimming withpossibilities. Darrough, George, and I and talked to the wee hours of the night, way past closing time. It was the first of many such nights I had on my journey. Sometimes, it’s the quiet and empty spaces that have the most to offer.
I found the sacred in Paris. First, I must admit I struggled in Paris, despite my best efforts, which even included taking French for three months. I didn’t understand how people could charge 3 euro 50 for a coffee and found the people to be rude. However, on my second night, I saw one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen. On the pedestrian bridge across from the Louvre, hundreds of people gathered in groups of 6 or 8, with bread, cheese, wine, homemade food, and guitars, and picnicked. They were living life as it was meant to be lived, with friends and family in community, accompanied by good food, drink, and music. In that moment, I understood the romance so many people have with Paris.
I found the sacred in Rome, in a bar called “Ma Che Siete Venuti a Fa,” where the owner, Emanuele, sat with me for 3 hours and shared with me some of the world’s greatest beers, gave me a t-shirt, and refused to take a dime, because to him, the authenticity of my enthusiasm and appreciation was payment enough.
Everywhere I went I met people who were open, friendly and generous. These were not the people paid to provide me a cultural experience, but just normal, everyday people, some of them fellow travelers, but mostly just people I met in restaurants, bars, or parks who returned my hello, or initiated it.
To be alone in a foreign country can be a freeing experience. It can also be a vulnerable one. In order to connect with others, I often had to go outside of my comfort zone, to force myself to talk to people. I had to bring a pilgrim mind and an open heart. Each time I did though, the rewards far outweighed the drawbacks.
Without bringing a pilgrim mind and an open heart, I would not have met Viola, an Opera singer from Cologne, Germany, whom I spent a day with in Bruges and Oostende, laughing and walking barefoot on the beach. I now count Viola among my friends, and we’ve chatted regularly since my return.
I would not have met Anna, a young German woman taking her first vacation in seven years, who recently regained her family farm, more than 20 years after the East German government took it away. I would not have met Frank, a Czech writer struggling with the competing demands of marriage, children, a full-time job, and a dissertation.I would not have met Noemi, a pierced tattooed circus performer from Bologna, who said she likes Rome because people do not stare at her like she’s a freak, like they do in the rest of Italy.
And I would not have met Emanuele, the bar owner from Rome, who uses a common love of beer as an opportunity to practice radical hospitality.I learned from all of these people and many more.
Their main gifts to me were their openness, their willingness to engage. In order to receive their gifts, I had to be equally open. And that connection, that connection to others, I think, lies at the heart of my journey. I feel as though I left as a citizen of the United States, but I returned as a citizen of the world.
For all the amazing art, the enormous buildings, the rich history, and the varied landscapes, what I’ll remember most are the people I met, their smiles and their laughs, The conversations with and generosity of friends and strangers alike.
Although I have been back for more than a month, my journey isn’t finished yet. I don’t know who will remain in my life from the scores of people I met along the way, and I don’t know how I’ll integrate the lessons of trip into my everyday life. But I do know, that for a month anyway, as a pilgrim in a not so strange land, I was my better self, and I saw the best in others. I’m already planning my next journey to Southeast Asia next summer. But maybe, between journeys, I’ll show the next pilgrim I meet the same radical hospitality that so many people showed to me.
Welcome
Welcome to the Progressive Pilgrim. I'm Dan Greco. I'm 38, live in Providence, RI, and am a self-employed professional tutor. I have interests in politics, sports, religion (Unitarian Universalism), popular culture, and beer. I hope to use this blog to provoke thought, to challenge, and to entertain. I welcome any feedback.
Dan Greco,
the progressive pilgrim
Dan Greco,
the progressive pilgrim
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