Freedom of Speech and its Limits

I disagree with what you say, Sir, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.--mis-attributed to Voltaire, actually penned by Evelyn Beatrice Hall, in her biography of Voltaire.

    How to reconcile free speech with the consequences of speech appears to confuse many.  We are at a stand over the homophobic pronouncements of a made for-and-by TV hero, Phil Robertson,  the Duck Commander.  It seems he does not think homosexuals are OK, and said so in an interview.  His avowed homophobia caused the AandE network, which made him a celebrity in the first place, to suspend him from filming future episodes of their "reality series" (sic).  And so the outcry begins, as fans accuse the network of censoring him, of suppressing his free speech rights under the Constitution, and particularly of discriminating against HIM because he holds religious views and expresses them publicly.
    First, let's look at how we have rights to free speech at all.  This right of all Americans is guaranteed by the First Amendment to the Constitution, within the Bill of Rights. The text is worth examining in this discussion.   "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."       Note that the text prohibits Congress from making laws which abridge freedom of speech, or the press.  It has nothing to say about private citizens, corporations or anyone else.  It regulates Congress.  It was not even applied generally to the States until much later, though by Supreme Court interpretation and application of the Fourteenth Amendment, it now prohibits the States just as it does the Congress.
    Now let's look at our media-driven tempest in a teacup.  A private citizen, placed into the public eye by television appearances on a network show, expresses his religious views in an interview.  These views happen to be offensive to many, but apparently not all citizens of this great republic.  The network decides his continued participation in their TV show would suggest that they support his views, and so they suspend him.  Has any Constitutional right been violated?  Of course not.  Congress has not prohibited narrow-minded bigots from making disparaging comments about anyone. Neither has Congress exempted such persons from suffering the consequences of their speech.  Private citizen Phil has let us know that he believes the words of the Old Testament, that homosexuals are an abomination in the eyes of the Lord.  Perhaps he believes also that they should be put to death (Leviticus 20:13) He did not go so far in his statement, though he referenced the Bible as his source of inspiration.  However private citizen Phil has discovered the downside of celebrity.  He is not a private citizen anymore, opining at his dinner table that gays should be stoned to death.  He is now a public figure, speaking in an interview.  If his views offend, and they do, he must live with the consequence.  Certainly, he may say whatever he wishes, but he is not immune to the hoo-hah afterwards, nor should he be.  He has benefited greatly from celebrity.  That is a privilege not a right.  And his current difficulties with his employer are his problem, the result of failing to understand the difference between Private Citizen Phil and Public Figure Phil.  If I went on TV as my professional self and publicly expressed a disgust for Fat People, or Americans of African extraction, or Gays, or even Rednecks, I could expect to lose my job.  I can say whatever I want, and Congress and the State of Washington can't do a thing about it.  But if I go public with my private opinions, my employers surely could do, and would do a thing about it.  And I would have no reason to complain.  Can't fix stupid.  Can't even make it look pretty.  So sorry, Phil.  you still have your constitutional right to free speech, and it has never been abridged.  You just don't have a right to make tons of cash living in the public eye, without being aware of the consequences of exercising your rights. You may continue to make duck calls, disappear from the public radar, and return to life as a private citizen, but you don't have a right to control AandE, which made you famous in the first place. You had a nice ride, but now it is, and should be, over.  Back to the Holler with you, begone. And good riddance.

Solstice 2013

Solstice 2013

Dear Ones:

The occasion of the sun reaching the southernmost extent of its yearly pendulum-arc always leaves me hopeful.  And that is the very definition of irrationality—continued adherence to a belief despite all evidence being to the contrary.  I like to imagine myself a rational beast, but again, my belief flies in the face of the evidence.  Still, I gaze about my battered old world and try to make sense of it, as best my limited faculties will allow, and once again reach out to friends old and new. 

The year past has been one of frustration in so many ways.  We have watched a dysfunctional government melt down, held hostage to ideology, and the perpetrators protected by the combination of time before the next election and the electorate’s short memory, such that they will mostly not pay the price for their abuse of process.  We continue to prove that our government is exactly what we deserve, since we elect them, and fail to un-elect them when the time comes.  Who but us could invent Ted Cruz, a Canadian-born Cuban American religious fundamentalist poster boy for white male supremacy? And then put him in high office?  Our collective attention span is like a hummingbird’s—we flit from one flower to the next, unconcerned about past or future, and really, not even grounded in the present. (Stop checking your Facebook and pay attention.)  We have ample attention to watch the spectacle of Miley Cyrus turning herself into a cold, calculating sex gargoyle, devote much print space to the thickening and thinning of Kardashian thighs, and can be found between them lately.  We discuss as a serious matter whatever obliviots like Kanye West have to say about anything. Headline News: Woman in England Gives Birth to a Baby!  We publish entire special editions of Time devoted to this. But meanwhile, serious things happen out of sight and mind, which is exactly where we seem to want them. We continue to attract homicidal Islamists, time travelers from the most medieval society on the planet, who despoil peaceful gatherings such as the Boston Marathon, responding to our droning above their hovels and delivering modern technology by laser guidance.  We each imagine that bombing the other somehow makes anything better. There are indeed bad guys over there who want to do us harm, and they hide themselves among women and children, to use our own soft-heartedness against us, but have no compunction about killing OUR children. But what is the end-game of that exchange?  Can’t kill them all. And we aren’t going back to the Bronze Age.  The mind boggles… I guess that is why we don’t want to think about it.

On the brighter side, we have seen the tide turn against medievalism here, with the rapid progress against discrimination against gays, led by Courts and the Constitution, and taken up by Citizen Legislatures in the States, bypassing a fossilized Federal Congress.  We have been amazed to see the Catholic Church turned on its mitre-crowned head by Pope Francis, though he is not so radical as to allow women to be ordained, or use birth control, heaven forefend. If the above seems to contain only an abbreviated bright side, it seems that way to me, too. I look in the mirror and see Grumpy Cat.

As for us, Catherine has worked very hard to regain her license to practice as a nurse-midwife, but has yet to find a job.  She spent four months at Fort Defiance, AZ, in the heart of the Navajo reservation, and had a marvelous experience connecting with that culture, and reconnecting with midwifery.  I had a two-week visit, and we had to cram four months of fighting and sex into those two action-packed weeks. (here the Gen-Xers go “EWWWwwwww! Old People sex!  I need a retinal brillo pad!!”) We traveled and photographed a fair bit of the Four Corners area, all of it new to me, and we enjoyed that part of the world very much indeed. But four months of long-distance marriage was quite enough.  I am putting my foot down on her traveling for locums work. She remains active on the Board of Quilts of Valor Foundation, which has distributed more than 100,000 quilts to service veterans touched by war. Tax-deductible donations are still needed and gratefully accepted, @ www.QOVF.org

Michele, our elder thirty-something, is still in Columbus with husband Eric the jet pilot and desk pilot, and now also Chairman of the Board of Quilts of Valor Foundation. Grandkiddies Jack (7) and Lily (6) are sprouting into lovely and loving little kids, on the cusp of becoming big kids. Michele has become part owner of a Yoga Studio, Yoga on High, www.yogaonhigh.com and is stretching into the necessary mix of teaching and business skills.

Nat, our other thirty-something, is finishing his second degree in Graphic Arts, doing an internship, and learning what the working world of Graphic Arts is really all about. He does have a marvelous hand and eye, and seems to be enjoying it. He made a nice logo for Hannah’s blog, which you can view at www.runsealegsrun.blogspot.com

Hannah, now 27, expects to get out of the Navy this year sometime, and is concentrating on competing in more 100-mile races.  She just delivered a TEDx Talk in Honolulu entitled “The Runner’s Low: Surviving Depression and the Badwater Ultramarathon”. It was very well received, and the video should be posted shortly on TEDx Honolulu. She remains uncertain as to the future, but may be coming back to the mainland again soon.

Everett is finishing grad school in Management and Chinese Language at the Monterey Institute of International Studies, and is looking for internships, jobs, anything for a next stage.  What form that takes remains to be seen, but it may involve more travel to China, with any luck. He has, meanwhile, blossomed into a well-developed young man, burning off his frustrations at the local gym, and no longer looking like a skinny little kid. But his clothes budget is straining as much as his old clothes themselves.

As for me, I have had a long year of work, a few travel, SCUBA and ski adventures, four months as a monk, and nothing much else comes to mind. I have been working a few shifts a month at Gray’s Harbor, WA, which was aptly named, never mind Captain Gray. It is a smaller hospital, with less specialty backup, and has experienced the same decline in numbers of patients as my main job, so revenue is down, and the answer is only to work more shifts. Why is that always the answer?  The people who do come are more or less the same.  A 14 year-old girl came in with her dad and a couple of sibs with a twisted knee.  I asked, “What happened?” and she replied, “I was Twerking and I slipped.”  Now I had no idea what that meant, so I asked, “What is Twerking, pray tell?”  She said, as would any teener of today, “You can look it up on the internet.”  So I did.  I Googled it, YouTubed it, and came back to the room aghast. It turns out to be pumping your pelvis up and down as if having sex cowboy style, but without a ‘pardner’. I asked her father if he knew what it was, and he allowed that he did.  I asked, “Then why is she not over your knee getting a paddling right this minute?”  He just continued his mouth-breathing, unmoved, and the exam continued. A knee brace and a prescription for contraceptives and she will be right as rain… And I, meanwhile, practice my professional affect control and therapeutic mindful breathing.  Of course our druggies still flock to us, wanting anesthesia for their lives.  Heroin has come back in a big way, and along with it, abscesses from dirty injections into veins and muscles. Almost to a person, they demand that a surgeon and the Operating Room be called for general anesthesia to allow drainage of these abscesses, no matter the hour. “Uh, sorry, that’s not how we do these things.” I sedate them, of course, since they are uncontrollable toddlers trapped in trashed out 30-year old bodies, but I am not calling the OR. Alas, I am not receiving those coveted “5” ratings from that crowd, I am afraid, but I am not as likely to be murdered by a Surgeon, either.  I do have a ‘save’ every now and again, just to remind me why I do this job.  They are few and far between, unlike the TV versions of my life, but they do happen.  As long as saves outnumber kills, I am good to go.

I pause, as always, to note the passing of friends and notables.  Dear friend John Goode, about my same age and stage, died suddenly, leaving Maureen and two kids.  Which should serve to remind us all to live for the present, and cherish each day and each other.  My Aunt Gerry (Sister Geraldine Warthling, OSF), beloved teacher and mentor to many in Buffalo, Columbus, and at St. Leo’s College in Florida, also died unexpectedly, but peaceably, at Stella Niagara. Nelson Mandela was a monument to persistence and non-violence, and Maggie Thatcher at least to persistence. Good riddance to Sylvia Brown, charlatan and swindler, who should have seen it coming. Ageing rockers are dropping like flies—Lou Reed, and Richie Havens among many. I will miss James Gandolfini and Dennis Farina’s tough-guy acts, so long and thanks for all the laughs to Jonathan Winters and Jeanne Stapleton, hasta la vista to Peter O’Toole, Karen Black, Eileen Brennan, and to Annette Funicello, who filled a Mickey Mouse Club sweatshirt like no one before or since. A sad goodbye to the innocents at Sandy Hook, and to the 109 sons and daughters lost so far this year in Afghanistan.

And so we turn from the darkness, lit by the cold glow of our LCD displays, and search for meaning and solace in a world of our making, but not of our control.  I wish you a year of peace and security, though we know the first to be fragile, and the second an illusion. A comforting illusion, but an illusion nevertheless. Seek truth, even when it is painful, shun liars and their seductive appeals to take the easy way out. Make space in your lives for the people who matter, and let them know that they do matter.  Make space also for people who don’t seem to matter, but ought to.  Don’t let fear and anger become the emotions that rule you.  You are better, and we together are better than that.

                  Cheers, best, love and all that.

Emotion does not lie in the heart
no matter what the ancients say.
I was full of emotion.
Empathy, purpose, love, solidarity
with my brothers in arms.
A bleeding heart liberal, some would say.
My heart beat strongly, unceasingly
and I felt that keening in my breast
at love gained and lost,
at the birth of my child,
at the loss of my father,
and then my mother.
How can a feeling so strong,
so localized in my frame,
be other than it feels?
I guess fear lies in the anus, then,
and regret in the stomach.
But when my brain came up sharp
against my skull, in that inattentive
moment in my car,
and swelled and died inside,
my heart was left, still strong, still beating.
I could only wish that some part of me
still lived there.
They gave my heart to someone else,
someone whose heart could not sustain him
anymore.
My wish was to give life in my death
if death, premature, was my fate.
I dreamed of helping a fellow traveler,
of being a lifeline when hope seemed lost.
I signed the forms, and hoped for the best.
Then they gave my heart to Cheney.

We have made mirrors
For hundreds of years.
They have hung, unchanging,
as we have passed, scanning
for a stray lock, a rehearsed smile
a piece of food between our teeth,
crow's feet and gray hair.
Honesty reflecting dishonesty,
Disaffected calm reflecting fear.

The mirror still reflects the passing scene,
But is a neglected shadow of her former self. 
Ever honest, and that is her failure.
We look elsewhere for advice,
and secretly despise that friend
who always tells us the truth.
In fashion there are no crow's feet,
In celebrity there are no faults,
no failings we can't manage.

That old analog self, staring back at us,
does not comport with the dream.
The dream comports only
with other dreams, apparently.
Reality is an inconvenience
we must Photoshop, enhance, embellish.
Narcissus bought a GoPro Hero and captures
every adventure.  He only watches Oprah,
and "reality TV", and posts selfies on Facebook.

Humanist Haiku

Fear of Death begets
Fear of Life. Reason remains
our only solace.

Reason is not how
you first got lost, but use it
now to find yourself.

Childish fears of things
unknown. Imagination
feeds our misery.

Imagination
is also how we find truth
when morning returns.

Why should it be so?
Imagination differs
between dark and light?

Because reason loves
the light, and becomes hard to
find when darkness falls.

But fear not the dark.
Reason is your sword, and truth
your torch at nightfall.

And when morning comes
you will laugh at the stories
told in the darkness.

And love the tellers
for their childish ways, and
chide them to grow up.

They will cling to
their stories, as children do,
but hold fast, they grow.

Some day soon, not soon
enough, we will all laugh at
the dark, and our fears.