It is Advent, when we await the arrival of He who said

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovering of sight to the blind,
to set at liberty those who are oppressed,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

I have not written about politics for several weeks. I have been trying to not get sucked into dissections of the results of the election and what it means for the country, here or elsewhere on the ‘net. What will be, will be.

Sometimes, however, what is at stake is not politics but justice. What has happened to Jose Padilla transcends politics.

Jose Padilla was picked up in Chicago following 9/11 as a suspected member of Al-Qaeda. There were originally allegations that he was part of a plot to manufacture a dirty bomb. He was declared an enemy combatant, and shipped to Naval Brig in South Carolina.

Jose Padilla is an American citizen, arrested on American soil.

His lawyers fought his detention all the way to the Supreme Court. Two years ago, the Supreme Court agreed with him on the merits, but ordered him to refile in the proper Circuit. He did so. The Bush Administration fought to keep him in military control, up until earlier this year, when the case was on course to get back to the Supreme Court, when they quickly transferred him to a (civilian) federal penitentiary, charged him with conspiracy and providing material support to terrorists. Charging him with a crime means that he will be brought to trial, rather than languishing in military detention with no hope of a jury hearing his case.

During the time he was in the brig, he was alone in a ten cell wing of the facility, his counsel allege. He saw no one but his interrogators. His windows were blacked out, he had no clock or calendar, and had his Koran taken from him. He slept on a steel platform.

The military argues that none of this was inhumane, and that his basic needs were met, and that he never complained. He never complained? Maybe he was afraid.

In the course of his incarceration, Padilla needed a root canal. What happened next is captured on video. Armed guards — their faces completely hidden behind visors — entered the cell. They did not speak. Padilla was manacled — to be expected — and then…

He was given noise-blocking earphones, and blacked goggles. He was taken from his cell, without being able to see or hear what is happening around him, by completely anonymous figures. To get a root canal. It makes one wonder — did they even tell him what was going on?

He lived under these conditions for three and a half years.

His attorneys say he is incompetent to stand trial. He does not seem to understand the charges against him. He is unable to assist in his own defense, primarily because he seems to not believe that his attorneys are working for him — but that they are part of an interrogation scheme on the government’s part. He is afraid to talk about what happened in the brig because he is terrified he will be returned there.

He is a broken man.

Torture does not have to be physical to be torture. Sensory deprivation and isolation strike at the heart of the greatest human needs beyond food, water, and warmth. To be trapped with only your own mind for company for months on ends is terrible to contemplate.

All for a man who has not stood trial for any crime, and who even his jailers admit was not disruptive.

Not that it matters — since we should not treat any human this way — but it bears repeating that Padilla is a citizen. Before its passage, we were repeatedly told that the Military Commissions Bill would not be used against American citizens. Do you believe that?

In this season of Advent, I pray for Mr. Padilla. I pray also for his jailers, that one day they realize what exactly what they have done.

 

UPDATE: Terry Karney’s post about the situation is well worth reading.

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Proof that my youngest child is, in fact, forty-five:

He likes goat cheese and discussing politics.

He enjoys tea and wants to start collecting handmade teacups.

He loves showtunes, and knows the words to nearly as many of them as I do.

He saw Titanic before I did.*

He has a large and somewhat esoteric vocabulary, at least for his alleged chronological age.**

And the final proof? This morning he said he wanted a shiatsu massage chair for Christmas.

* Titanic came on television, and he came in the room. “I can tell you how it ends,” I smirked. “The boat sinks.” “The boat sinks,” he replied gravely, “and the man she is in love with…..[not revealed here in case someone hasn’t seen the movie]. I’ve seen this already.” And he left the room, leaving me speechless. I’m still not sure where he saw the movie.

** He has a passion for monotremes, and it confuses his grade school teachers, several of whom did not know what a monotreme was. (They do now.) He is especially fond of echidnas, and wants to own one when he grows up.

Posted in Kids in all their glory | Tagged | 2 Comments

Bad Christmas Music, Revisited.

Remember how I said that the worst secular Christmas songs were “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer,” “Santa Baby,” and Weird Al’s “Christmas At Ground Zero”?

No.

I forgot the absolutely worst Christmas song, which I’m not sure I’ve heard yet this holiday season, but which, nightmare-like, inserted itself into my brain this morning as I woke up and will not go away.

Last Christmas,” by George Michael.

Whatever you think of Michael’s music — and he actually did three songs I like (“Faith,” “Freedom ’90,” and “One Last Try”) — this particular songs is syrupy and whiny. You understand why his lover left him, if he’s this annoying.

The narrator of the song “gave his heart” to the object of his affections on Christmas, and “the very next day, you tore it apart.” Good heavens, man! It’s been a year, pull yourself together! How completely pathetic! So you’ve found a new lover — why are so obsessed with the old you have to go back and point out this fact?

I just hope I can scrub it out of aural memory soon, and replace it by something less objectionable, like “It’s a Small World.” Or “Achy-Breaky Heart.” Or dentists’ drills. Or something.

Of course, it could be worse: I could have “My Heart Will Go On” stuck in my head.

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I have a teapot now. I grew up a bit of a wild child — a tomboy to the max — and while I was exposed to “tea” as an event rather than simply a beverage at college (Wellesley has tea every Wednesday in the dorms), I didn’t really understand the joys of using a teapot until recently, when the ladies at my church have had several teas.

A dear friend of mine, knowing that a teapot was on my Christmas list, gave me a lovely china teapot on Tuesday. The upshot of this is that on Wednesday, I sat with my youngest son (who had with his own money purchased a handmade Japanese-style teacup and saucer because he thought it was pretty) having tea. Very civilized.

All I have to do now is learn to make scones.

*********************

I have started listening to liberal talk radio occasionally on satellite radio, and have come to the conclusion that there are almost as many reality-challenged people on my side as on the other — or, at least, those are the ones that call in. Guys? Impeaching a president in the last two years of his second term, when you hold a one vote majority in the Senate and it would be impossible to convict, makes no sense and would simply tear the country apart. Fortunately, the hosts seem to be reasonable people, albeit strident.

Because, of course, I am never strident. No siree Bob, not me. And I have this bridge in Brooklyn….

********************

Advent starts on Sunday, and on Saturday I go and make the Advent wreath. We always have an Advent wreath for part of Advent, but because we usually travel at Christmas we never finish using it. We’re staying home this year, and one of the highlights (in addition to worshipping at our own church for Christmas) will be lighting all the Advent candles, and saying all the prayers.

I love the Advent wreath. I love making it, I love the lighting and the prayers. I love that it helps reinforce what we are waiting for, rather than simply a day to get presents or eat a lot of chocolate. My kids love it too, there is always a debate over who gets to light the candles.

I am hoping to write about Advent, and about faith in general, during the Advent season.

************************

I have decided on a winner in the “Most obnoxious contemporary Christmas song — religious theme” category. (The winner in the “Most obnoxious Christmas song — secular” category is a three way tie between “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer,” “Santa Baby,” and Weird Al’s “Christmas At Ground Zero” — the last having a horrible tendency to warp itself into an endless loop as part of a mashup in my brain with “Jingle Bell Rock.”) I generally don’t mind religious theme Christmas songs, because, no matter how bad the song is as a song, at least the songwriter is trying to sing about the true meaning of Christmas.

But then I heard “The Christmas Shoes.” This is about a little boy who is trying to buy shoes for his dying mother so she’ll look nice when she meets Jesus. The narrator gives him money for the shoes, and thanks God for the boy “reminding him what the season is all about.”

This song is wrong on so many levels: manipulative, crass (Jesus and consumerism! — Hey, maybe that *is* what the season is all about!), and psychologically improbable. I have known kids with dying parents — even kids from devout conservative Protestant families, and they were not out buying shoes, or anything like that: they are too fearful, and sad, and in shock. The entire scenario is intended to pull the heartstrings of gullible adults.

But the coup de grace is at the end of the song: the producers have added a choir. I’m not sure whether it is intended to be boys or the angels coming to take mama away, but it sounds like neither: the chorus is, I swear, sung by aliens.

Maybe mama was abducted by aliens? In which case, the shoes wouldn’t help much.

******************

Speaking of Christmas songs, I get really cranky with all the songs that equate Christmas with snow and sleighbells and things like that. I grew up in Florida, where the only white Christmases we had were because of the beach sand.

And you tell me how much snow there is in Palestine. Really.

***********************

Next week the males of my family turn into mighty hunters and go to the forest to fell the evergreen that will grace our living room. One of the joys of living in Northern California is that you can go cut your own tree (actually, you only cut the top off the tree — you leave enough so the actual tree survives); a joy, that is, except for the cold, and the wind, and the rain we often get this time of year. For some reason there has always been a competition in my family to find the perfect tree, and me staying in the car is considered poor sportsmanship.

Once you find the tree, you wield your mighty bow saw (being sure to leave at least three or four limbs at the bottom so the tree can regenerate) and fell your prey. The best tree we ever found, though, was one that someone had already cut and abandoned. I didn’t want it — if we were going to go all the way out there to get a tree, by golly we were going to get the freshest tree possible — but my kids begged. “Please, mom, it needs us!” Sigh. We took the tree home, and once we decorated it, it looked fantastic. From then on out, we called it the Charlie Brown tree.

There is a fair amount of ritual — we always have chili for dinner (put on before we go out) and we always have mint hot chocolate after we get back with the tree. We decorate the tree either after dinner or, if we get the tree on Saturday, on Sunday evening. We go in for the “eclectic” decorating style, placing glass ornaments owned by my husbands grandmother next to paper Santas made by my eldest son in kindergarten years ago. It’s chaotic and messy, but full of personality.

Rather like all of us.

Posted in Family, Music, My life and times | 3 Comments

Sunday afternoon at the movies……

[I was going to write this Sunday night, but a family crisis (my son accidentally nearly set the house on fire — long story) shoved it out of my mind. Everything’s better now, if still a bit smoky.]

The family went with friends to see Happy Feet. Herewith, a report:

The trailers:

Charlotte’s Web looks like it actually might not suck, which is all you can hope for when a filmmaker takes on a classic. You think LOTR fans are rabid? They’re nothing compared to former little girls who adored E.B. White’s arachnid and who will be out for blood if this thing is bad. And of course Steve Buscemi has to voice Templeton. Of course. It’s like Alan Rickman playing Snape: there are some casting decisions so obvious it would be folly to disregard them.

Speaking of Snape, The Order of the Phoenix trailer looks good, too. Alan Rickman looks like he is playing Snape as actually human, going for a nuanced portrayal. Hurrah! I’ve always had a soft spot for Snape, probably because I have adored Alan Rickman ever since he first sneered at Bruce Willis in Die Hard. And the Harry Potter movies are uniformly well-cast, with actors well-known (Rickman, the wonderful Emma Thompson — and by the way, weren’t they so great together as a married couple in Love, Actually?) and the less well known, at least to American audiences (Mark Williams, Imelda Staunton as Umbridge — I can hardly wait to see it, she’s such a wonderful actress).

Oh. My. Goodness. The Nativity Story? They cast an olive-skinned, dark-eyed, dark-haired, teenager as Mary. They cast an Iranian actress as Elizabeth. And to my untutored American eye, Joseph looked like he was born in Palestine (he’s actually Guatemalan). Finally, a religious themed picture that did not cast the holy family as freaking Europeans. (Jim Cavaziel in The Passion of the Christ? Give me a break!) It’s not my ideal religious movie casting (Naveen Andrews — Sayid from Lost — as Jesus) but it’s pretty darn good. And the flashes they show of Mary in labor? She looks like a woman in labor — absolutely panicked and in pain.* Catherine Hardwicke, who directed this, also directed Thirteen, one of the scariest looks inside the mind of adolescent girls ever.

The movie:

Much better than I expected. Was not the rip-off of March of the Penguins I feared, and has a killer soundtrack. The voice work is uniformly good.

It’s the music and the dancing — yes, I know it’s animated, but the dancing matters** — which carry this movie. The “you have to be yourself” message, which could have been disturbingly cloying, was carried of with humor and restraint. There is also a subplot in there about religious fundamentalism, which is sufficiently subtle that two of the three people I talked to about it missed it — until I pointed it out to them.

And, after seeing this movie, you may become obsessive about cutting the loops open on your plastic soda can holders before you throwm them away, if you’re not already. Which is not a bad thing.

All in all, I give it three and a half stars.

*Of course, there is such a thing as taking Method acting too far: Keisha Castle-Hughes, the young actress who played Mary, had to miss the premiere because she’s pregnant and can’t travel.

** The dancing was done by Savion Glover, the premier American tap and modern dance artist. Glover won a Tony in 1996 at the age of 23 (!) for his choreography of Bring in Da Noise, Bring in Da Funk, a show he co-wrote and starred in. His dancing on Happy Feet was transferred to the screen using motion-capture, and the result is that Mumbles the penguin has some really sweet moves.

Posted in Culture (popular and otherwise) | Tagged | 1 Comment

It’s that time of year again.

I jumped the gun again, and started listening to holiday* music, even though it is only the day after Thanksgiving, and not even Advent yet. And that includes a fair amount of actual Christmas music, even though I know I should not be listening to Christmas music until CHRISTMAS (sorry, Maly).

My tastes in Christmas music tend to run to traditional carols and humorous secular songs. My favorite secular Christmas song is Barenaked Ladies “Elf’s Lament,” mainly because it takes the cult of Santa Claus (to which we do not adhere in our house) down a notch or two.**

Last year a friend sent me “The Christians and the Pagans” by Dar Williams. It’s a lovely little song about ecumenical understanding, about gathering together and looking past differences to celebrate family and time together. I really like it.

Except for this one line: “She said ‘Christmas is like Solstice.'”

No, it’s not.

I don’t have anything against Solstice. It’s a wonderful idea for a holiday — to celebrate the turning of the year, the joy of Creation and the passage of the seasons. What better time to mark the gift of time? To recognize the blessing of the fallow time of winter, and to prepare for the rebirth of spring? Maybe it’s just that I’m hazy on the pagan theology here, but I don’t object to Solstice.***

But that’s not what Christmas is about. Yes, there was a Christ child, wrapped in swaddling clothes, if we are to believe Luke. Christ comes to earth to redeem mankind, and will walk upon the earth not for a year but for over thirty and when he dies he will not be a small babe wrapped in swaddling clothes but a man tortured and broken who goes unflinchingly to his death. A willing sacrifice for all the world. I don’t understand it, but I accept it.

Solstice is for a season, a year. Christmas is for a season, but is a symbol of the eternal.

*Holiday, not Christmas, because there are a fair number of generic cold-weather songs such as “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” and some Hannukah songs, such as the Velveteens “Get Your Channukah On.”

** One notable exception to my liking for humorous secular songs is “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer”: I can’t stand it.

*** The early church fathers did, but handled it by appropriating much of the symbology of Solstice or Yule celebrations, such as trees, and holly or mistletoe, and the date of Christmas itself. The Bible doesn’t indicate what time of year Jesus was born, but it’s a fair bet it wasn’t on December 25th.

Posted in God faith and theology, Music | 3 Comments

Happy Thanksgiving.

Things I have to be thankful for:

The boys: the Not-So-Little Drummer Boy, the Wrestler, the Red-Headed Menace, and the Rocket Scientist.

That I don’t have to worry about having a roof over my head or food to feed my children.

That we live in relative safety, with car accidents being the biggest threat to our well-being.

For my friends, who keep actually talking me, even when I withdraw from the rest of the world.

For health insurance that provides me with the care I need to be able to function.

For yams with marshmallows on top and cornbread stuffing with red peppers.

For Starbucks Venti Nonfat No-Whip Peppermint Mochas.

For the Bill of Rights.

For the Nineteenth Amendment.

For the color blue.

For Presiding Bishop Katherine Jeffords Schori.

For Speaker-Elect Nancy Pelosi.

For flowers.

For the LiveJournal and Blogger the rest of the blogosphere, which allows me to interact with people in many counties on different continents.

For the music of Stephen Sondheim, Eric Clapton, and The Who.

For the Pacific Ocean.

For art.

For love.

For life.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you, wherever you may be, whether in your country you celebrate on this day or not, may you have joy and many blessings.

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Parental evaluation.

Parenting is a bitch. There is no instruction manual, and no exams or performance evaluations to tell you how you’re doing, so you can fix your mistakes.

The worst part? You’re trying to mold young minds into growing up to be thoughtful, compassionate, faithful human beings with a thirst for social justice, when all they seem to be interested in is playing video games and annoying the crap out of their brothers.

Me: “Did you hear about that political commentator who almost accused that new Representative of being a traitor simply because he’s Muslim?”

Rocket Scientist: “Yeah. That was just incredible. I can’t believe what some of these people say.”

Red-headed Menace (who’s ten): “What’s a Muslim?”

Me & RS: Explanation of what Muslims were, and how most Muslims were peaceful but that there were some who were violent and that the 9/11 hijackers and the insurgents in Iraq had been Muslims, and that some people viewed all Muslims as being an enemy.

Red-Headed Menace: “You mean he was accusing this guy of being a traitor based on nothing more than his religion? That’s terrible! That’s like what we did to the Japanese-Americans in World War II!”

Political awareness and critical thinking skills, both at the age of ten. We need to work on nuance — Glenn Beck did not come out and say Keith Ellison was a traitor, merely implied he might be, and that Ellison needed to prove he was not — but still, I must be doing something right.

Posted in Kids in all their glory, Politics | Leave a comment

More probably uninteresting tidbits about my musical tastes. Mainly because I’m bored.

I have a lot of playlists on my iTunes, which make more or less sense. There’s “Broadway,” and “No Garth C0untry,” and artist-specific ones such as “Great Big Sea.” And then there are the rand0m-organizing-principle playlists, such as:

“The Name of the Game” (songs in no particular order):

“My Baby’s In Love With Eddie Vedder ” Weird Al Yankovic
“Come On Eileen” Dexy’s Midnight Runners
“The Downeaster “Alexa”” Billy Joel
“Tango: Maureen” Rent:Original Broadway Cast
“A Boy Named Sue” Johnny Cash
“Sloop John B” Beach Boys
“Sweet Baby James”* James Taylor
“Guinnevere” Crosby, Stills & Nash
“Amazing Grace” Judy Collins
“Maggie May” Rod Stewart
“Old Polina” Great Big Sea
“Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard” Paul Simon
“Gee, Officer Krupke” West Side Story: Orginal Cast Recording
“Lady Madonna” The Beatles
“Layla” Derek and the Dominoes
“Layla” Eric Clapton**
“Boston and St. John’s” Great Big Sea
“Bruce’s Philosophers Song” Monty Python
“The Moon And St. Christopher” Mary Chapin Carpenter
“Matthew” John Denver
“Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)” Bruce Springsteen
“Uncle John’s Band” Grateful Dead
“Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters” Elton John
“Cleopatra, Queen Of Denial” Pam Tillis

and so on and so forth — that’s about half the list.

I also have playlists called “Professionally Speaking,” “H2O” and “By the Numbers,” not to mention the more boring “Geography.”

Oh, and Mad Priest, if you read this? Unlike your musical tastes, this list is seriously unhip, and I recognize that. I embrace my unhippness… I’m a mini-van driving, stay-at-home mother of three, you don’t get much less hip than that. It’s only in my other life that I am in fact an international espionage agent and racontuer.

And after all, somebody’s got to listen to all those John Denver and Billy Joel albums.


* The rocket scientist insists that I named the Not-So-Little Drummer Boy after this song. He’s wrong.
** Which is better? I don’t know. The first (which is horribly mixed — the piano completely drowns out the guitar solo in the second part of the song) is a young man’s song, all full of passion and “I’m going to die if I don’t get you;” the second is the song of a guy who’s been around the block quite a few times and knows full well that if she turns him down he’ll live, and even probably hit on the next pretty face at the party. I love listening to them back to back.

Posted in Music | 2 Comments

God’s music?

I was at my church’s yearly “Women’s Retreat” this year — a weekend of sisterhood, spiritual growth, and, as always, chocolate. It was a bit more stressful than past retreats: I had roles to play in the drama (used as a springboard for discussion on the spiritual themes), and had written the bible studies for the small groups and was as usual nervous ab0ut how they would be received. Also, the site was a problem: it was hilly, and I have been in an extended fibromyalgia flare for the past several months. I bought a walking stick, but by the time I left I was in considerable pain.

During one of the workshops, a discussion arose about the importance of Christian music. I kept my mouth shut, mainly because I just didn’t have the bandwidth to put forth my views, which were mainly that Christian radio was a waste of good frequencies that could be put to better use, such as listening to crickets chirp. After the exchange of information about good local Christian radio stations, another woman in the room, bless her heart, spoke up and gave the opinion that she had grown up in a household that really didn’t play much Christian music, and that a lot of secular music had strong spiritual messages — she referred to U2 as a good example. After the group ended, I went and thanked her for saying what I was thinking.

My feelings on contemporary Christian music range from indifference to disdain to deep dislike. The best — which includes most, but not all — of the worship music we use in our contemporary services, is decent. The worst, such as much of what is played on Christian radio stations, is overblown, saccharine crap.

Jesus deserves better.

I have a “Spirituals” playlist on my iTunes. There is not one “Contemporary Christian hit” on it.

Don’t get me wrong — there is religious music. There are traditional hymns sung by contemporary vocalists: “Down to the River to Pray” by Alison Kraus, “Amazing Grace” and “Simple Gifts,” by Judy Collins, “Morning has Broken,” by Cat Stevens. Don’t ask me why, but traditional hymn are so much better written than contemporary Christian music.

But the rest of it is “secular” music. Some of that music mentions Jesus: “Travelin’ Thru” by Dolly Parton, for example. (And then there is “Kyrie” by Mr. Mister, which doesn’t mention Jesus but which lifts its refrain from the Catholic Mass.) Most of it does not.

But the music is spiritual nonetheless — for example, what else can you say about a lyric which include the lines “Tonight I feel like all creation/ is asking us to dance”? (“Asking Us to Dance,” written by Hugh Sherwood, performed by Kathy Mattea).

There is the music with no words: “Fanfare for the Common Man,” “Appalachian Spring,” Beethoven’s Ninth, “Rhapsody in Blue.”* Oh, and “Soul Sacrifice” — the eleven-minute live Woodstock version. Have you seen the painting “The Dance” by Chagall? “Soul Sacrifice” is what they were dancing to. Had to be. Even though the painting was created fifty years before Woodstock.

The rest of it is mostly just songs you might have heard on the radio at some point — crossing genres: pop, rock, country, a little blues, a little jazz, and because I’m who I am, show tunes (even aside from Godspell). Some Beatles, a little Clapton, Randy Newman, CSNY. No gospel per se, although I am firmly convinced that Aretha Franklin is, in fact, the voice of God.

And two of those secular songs have appeared in worship services at our church: “The Garden Song” (written by Dave Mallet) and “Stand by Me” (written by Leiber & Stoller). We’ve also sung “I Can See Clearly Now” (Johnny Nash), and at the retreat itself we sang The Judds’ “Love Can Build a Bridge,” and Bill Withers’ “Lean on Me.”

All of that music fills something in me that could be called spiritual: either joyous and thanksgiving (“Good Morning, Starshine,” “Happiness”), or full of lamentation (“Louisiana, 1927,” “Wish You Were Here.**”). It’s about seeing God in nature (“Colors of the Wind,” “Morning has Broken”), and God in each other (“Matthew”). There are prayers (“Will I?” from Rent, “Let the Sun Shine In”*** from Hair). And there are a lot of songs that make me strong and fill me with resolve, and a lot of songs that I can’t even classify. Sometimes it’s the words that move me, just as often — or more — it’s the music.

My choices would not move everybody, possibly even not most people. But that’s okay — there are a billion songs out there in the world, and some of those will say something to someone.

What songs speak to your spirit? Where do you hear God? Where can you listen to the voice of the divine?

* Without “Bohemian Rhapsody” attached.
** Not quite on topic, but one of the ways I knew I would like our church’s new rector is that in his bio he listed Dark Side of the Moon as an important early spiritual influence.
** A few years ago, we sang the second half of “Let the Sun Shine In” at our Easter services. I was really annoyed. First of all, it’s only half a song: the first half, called “The Flesh Failures,” is about death and despair. The second half, the familiar “let the sun shine” is a prayer for deliverance, not rejoicing at resurrection. My friend Jennifer said it didn’t matter, that a) most people wouldn’t know and b) using it in the context of Easter changed the meaning of the song. Poppycock. Context is context, and “Let the Sun Shine In” is a Good Friday song.

Posted in God faith and theology, Music | 4 Comments

Rock on.

In December ’84 March ’85, Eric, a college friend of the resident rocket scientist and me, blew into Atlanta on business. We went out for the evening — Eric wanted to see local talent, so we checked out a show at Emory of several one-act Sam Shepard plays and a local folksinging duet. (Yes, we were cheap — we were living off a grad student’s stipend. Serious entertainment costs money.)

There were seventeen people in the audience. Pity, because the folksingers were really pretty good, I thought. I told Eric this, and he said “Nah, they’re too derivative — they’ll never amount to anything.” As it turned out, he was wrong.

I caught the same duet in concert tonight. The venue was quite a bit bigger — the Warfield Auditorium in San Francisco, and the audience much larger — the place was packed, and the repertoire was more extensive, but they were indeed the very same Indigo Girls.

Over the years one of their songs has become an anthem for the rocket scientist (“Closer to Fine”), and another has become an anthem for me (“Prince of Darkness”). I had not followed their career, though, and thus much of the music they played tonight was delightfully new. I look forward to rediscovering them.

It doesn’t seem like it should be over twenty years, but it is. They’re my age — well into their forties — and rockin’ on, making a lovable combination of earnestly romantic and politically progressive music. Strong women — gotta love ’em.

You go, Emily and Amy. You go, Girls.

ETA: There has been a dispute between the rocket scientist and I about when that concert happened. He said December ’84, I thought February or March ’85. (Thinking about it later, I decided it was March.) I went with his date when I originally wrote this (because he usually has a better head for dates than I do), but NPR other online sources indicate that they started playing together under the name “Indigo Girls” in 1985. Whichever, it seems clear that we had a rare chance to see something being born.

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It’s insanely beautiful today. The sky here in Northern California is that almost surreal shade of blue — too bright to be found in nature, almost, and yet too intense to be replicated on canvas. The light is as golden as butter and as sharp as broken glass. The breeze has died down, but before it was making the trees toss their locks like girls primping before the prom. The air is cool and clear and crisp.

Wonderful. Aching, joyful, lovely.

That election thing? Why, that turned out okay, too.

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Voter Rights

This comes very late, being only the day before the election, but I thought I’d pass it along. The NAACP Legal Defense Fund has a handy-dandy page with pdf’s of a “Voter Bill of Rights” for 45 states. They’ve developed these by combing through state election law. In several cases, they have the same information in Spanish as well as English. In addition, I have state sites which contain either a “Voter Bill Of Rights” or a “Voter Rights and Responsibilities” (same thing) listed below. Finally, for the three states that fall outside either list, there is the AFL-CIO page, which has VBRs for several states, including Tennessee, and the Massachusetts VBR [pdf] prepared by the Massachusetts chapter of the League of Women Voters and posted on the website of the Town Clerk of Lexington. Rhode Island? You can look at the Voting FAQs on their general election site, but there is no one single page to print out and take with you to the polls.

The voter rights differ from state to state. Some are universal: if you are disabled, you have the right to have assistance in filling out your ballot, while others are not: you have the right to bring your children into the ballot booth with you. It’s also important to know what the I.D. requirements are, although you should be fine if you have a driver’s license. (The sociological and political ramifications of requiring a driver’s license is a post best left for another day.)

Important reminder: North Dakota has NO registration requirement: you can walk up to the polls with the proper I.D. and vote. In Idaho, Minnesota, Wisconsin and Wyoming you can register to vote at the polls tomorrow. In Montana, you can register at county election offices. In New Hampshire, you have to register at the town clerk’s office. Maine likewise. But in any case, it is still possible to register and vote in those states if you have not already registered. You can find links to registration information in my “Are You Registered?” post.

Arkansas [pdf]

California

Connecticut
[pdf]

District of Columbia

Florida [from Pinellas County Supervisor of Elections website]

Hawaii

Iowa [pdf]

Kansas[pdf]

Kentucky

Maine

Michigan [pdf]

Minnesota [pdf] [audio version]

Missouri

Nebraska
[pdf]

Nevada [from the Election office site for Douglas County, but applies statewide]

New Jersey
[by counties]

New Mexico

Texas

Virginia

Last word on this topic?

VOTE.

Posted in Politics | Tagged | Leave a comment

View from the stands, part II.

Whoever had the bright idea to create a mash-up of “Rhapsody in Blue” and “Bohemian Rhapsody” for that field show should be forced to mark time in 95 degree heat until they drop.

The fact that the kids in the band in question (who are innocent bystanders here) performed it beautifully (so much so that they won the Sweepstakes Field Show Award) in no way negates the fact that the piece was Just. So. Wrong.

Posted in Kids in all their glory, My life and times | Tagged | 2 Comments

A Time To Kill?

The Mad Priest posted about the execution of Jeffrey Lundgren in Ohio this week. He asks three good questions, the last of which is “what good is killing anyone?”

In my comment to his post, I said I could go on for hours about capital punishment, but I wouldn’t. Not there, at any rate. But this here is my soapbox, and this issue has been a major concern of mine for years.*

I oppose capital punishment in all forms on religious grounds. However, I recognize that others may not have such beliefs, and I have met people who I otherwise respect who accept capital punishment “in theory.” And I recognize the damage that murder does to a community and the way in which capital punishment is seen as taking steps to repair that damage. (Whether it actually can or does is another matter.)

There are three reasons to support the death penalty: specific deterrence, general deterrence, and retribution. Specific deterrence, meaning that the individual who committed the murder cannot murder others if he or she is executed, is a morally supportable position, in my view. General deterrence, meaning that others will be dissuaded from committing murder if murderers are killed, sounds nice, but, absent other considerations, is not much more than the barbaric proposition that we should be willing to execute individuals to provide an example to others. Furthermore, studies have shown that general deterrence simply does not work.

Which brings us to retribution as a justification for execution. Whether or not you view retribution as a morally justifiable position depends a lot on your religious and world view. Personally, I have a very hard time reconciling retribution with the view that all individuals are made in God’s image and therefore are endowed with innate human dignity. I know others that feel, however, that not executing murderers somehow dishonors their victims. I would like to think that this country has moved beyond simple bloodlust, but I recognize I may be wrong.

All of that is in the realm of abstract moral reasoning.

However, the way capital punishment is practiced in America is capricious and obscene. Capricious, because the same murder in Detroit or San Francisco will land you in jail for the rest of your life, but in Dallas will end with you with a needle in your arm. (Accidents of geography occur on a much smaller level as well: a murderer in San Francisco is less likely to get the death penalty than the same murderer in Orange County, even though they are operating under the same set of laws.) Obscene because the risks of people being put to death who do not deserve t0, either by reason of incompetency or by reason of actual innocence, are so high as to create a virtual certainty that it will happen.

It used to be that proponents of capital punishment argued that the safeguards in the system would protect the innnocent. As that facade of surety has become more and more tattered, at least one proponent has recognized the inevitable. In 1997, Representative Bill McCollum of Florida stated “I don’t think there’s any question that someday somebody who is innocent will be executed in this country again.” McCollum went on to say that he believed capital punishment deters crime and helps victims’ families grieve.

So it’s okay to execute someone who is innocent as part of the larger war on crime. Aside from the fact that studies have shown that the death penalty does not deter murder, what does it mean when we say we need to execute someone to give the victim’s family “closure”?

That’s not justice, that’s blood vengeance.

It is so fatally easy to point to the monsters. John Wayne Gacy. Henry Lee Lucas. Ted Bundy. Danny Rolling. Surely, these men who brought such terror and grief to so many families should die. Everybody knows about these walking embodiments of evil.

But what of the other side of the coin?

There have been cases of police and prosecutorial misconduct, and cases where exculpatory information was kept from the defense. There have been cases of inept or completely incompetent (or in one case I have read of, drunken) defense counsel. And that’s not even touching upon the racial and economic inadequacies. (I think it is very telling that the prosecutors in the O.J. Simpson case did not even pursue a death sentence — they knew, given the sort of counsel he could afford, that they would not get it. Now contrast that with how they would deal with the average defendant accused of lying in wait to brutally stab two people to death.) Not to mention issues that potentially plague all criminal cases: the problems with eyewitness identification (widely used even though studies have shown it to be often inaccurate), use of jailhouse informants or desperate potential codefendants to obtain convictions, etc.

There is the question of competence. Not of competence to stand trial, which is an entirely different and distressing kettle of fish, but of competence to be killed. It’s an odd concept, I suppose. I guess as a nation we have enough decency to admit that maybe we shouldn’t put to death people who are too far gone out of their minds or too mentally limited to understand what is happening to them, although there are people who would argue even about that.

There is the case of Oliver Cruz. In 2002, the US Supreme Court ruled in Atkins v. Virginia that executing the mentally retarded constituted “cruel and unusual punishment”. They explicitly reversed a decision of only thirteen years prior, when they found that retardation was no bar to execution. This didn’t help Cruz, who had confessed to being involved in rape and murder, even though he had an IQ of 64, and the officers who arrested him testified he had no capacity to understand what he was doing when he waived his right to silence. The other evidence against Cruz was the testimony of a co-defendant, who had gotten a plea bargain. The co-defendant was not impaired — at least not mentally. To add the final sickening touch, the prosecutor argued that Cruz’s impairment made him more of a danger to society, therefore he should be executed. The jury agreed, and Cruz was executed in 2000.

A few years ago, the Supreme Court finally decided that executing the insane violated the Eighth Amendment’s strictures against cruel and unusual punishment. (Insert irony break here.) So far, so good. However, a few years later, the same court decided that it was permissible to forcibly medicate insane prisoners so they were sane enough to execute. One victim of this unspeakable decision was Charles Singleton, who was executed in January 2004 in Arkansas. Singleton, who had been diagnosed as delusional, psychotic and a paranoid schizophrenic, was given anti-psychotic medication so that he could be sane enough to be killed.

However, the bloody icing on the psychiatriatric-capital punishment cake came in 2004, in the case of Bell v. Thompson. Gregory Thompson had been tried and convicted of murder, and sentenced to death. His appeal was rejected. Thompson was scheduled for execution on August 19, 2004. In June, his attorneys filed a motion claiming he was incompetent to be executed (you can’t execute insane people).

The Circuit Court of Appeals reviews the evidence on this second claim. An intern for one of the judges finds a deposition in the original trial from a clinical psychologist that was extremely probative of Thompson’s mental state at the time of the crime. The deposition was not included in the materials sent from the District court, so presumably had not been reviewed by the District Court. The intern — who was a licensed psychiatrist — took this to his Circuit court judge, who reversed his opinion in the underlying case, thus sending it back to the District Court.

The state argued that the execution should proceed because the Circuit Court took too long to reverse its decision, and was precluded from rehearing it. The ultimate technicality.

The Supreme Court agreed. Which means a man who was quite probably schizophrenic at the time he committed his crime, who had incompetent counsel, who an appeals court said should have a new trial, will be executed because the Circuit Court’s decision that he should be given a new trial came too late and was technically insufficient. He currently sits on Tennessee’s Death Row — a stay of execution was granted earlier this year, and has not yet been lifted.

Then there is the issue of time. In Texas you get ninety days after sentencing in which to discover all possible evidence that might not have been brought forth at trial which could prove you are innocent. In Florida, you get all of six months. (Except for DNA evidence: in Florida you have two years, to submit DNA evidence, provided you did not plead guilty. So, if your attorney talks you into pleading guilty, but the DNA evidence exonerates you, you’re totally screwed.)

And it doesn’t matter why the deadline was missed, either: your attorney screws up his calendaring? Too bad. Doesn’t matter. You’re as good as dead. And in Virginia, until recently, there was no requirement that the court preserve evidence after a conviction — so they can destroy that pair of bloodstained scissors that was presented at the trial, to free up space in the evidence room . At least until the Supreme Court stayed the execution of Robin Lovitt in July, 2005. Virginia governor Mark Warner then stepped in, commuting Lovitt’s sentence to life in prison without parole — one day before his rescheduled execution.**

And it’s not just the Big Three (Texas, Florida, and Virginia) that have such restrictions: fifteen states have shorter time limits than Florida. Eighteen more have limits between 1 and 3 years. Only nine have no limits on the introduction of new evidence. All of this matters because at this point the average time between conviction and release for prisoners on death row is seven years.

These things matter to somone like Rudolph Holton. Holton spent 16 years on Florida’s Death Row, until DNA evidence exonerated him in 2003. He is certainly not alone. Since 1973, 23 people have been freed off of death row in Florida alone. In 2000, Governor Ryan of Illinois was so troubled that 13 men had been freed from death row in his state that he instituted a moratorium on executions.

There is a grim irony in all of this. Law and order types for years have been screaming about defendants walking free on “technicalities,” such as gasp! violations of a defendant’s Constitutional rights. They are perfectly willing to resort to technicalities not based on anything but a need for efficiency and “finality of judgment” and “closure” to kill people.

Because, of course, executing people who might be killers is so much more important than sparing people who might be innocent.

“Kill ’em all, let God sort ’em out” is not morally defensible legal policy.

Ah, but why not simply correct the abuses? Leave the death penalty in place, but change how it is administered?

Because the very existence of the death penalty creates pressure for it to be applied. Supposedly only for the most heinous murders, what qualifies as a capital crime seems to be expanding all of the time. In Montana, Louisiana, Oklahoma and South Carolina, sexual molesters of children face the death penalty for repeat offenses. (Thus creating an incentive for murder — if you’re going to be executed anyway why not kill the only witness and increas your chance of escape?) Who is to say where the line between “horrible enough to execute” and not is to be drawn? Do we really have the wisdom to say who deserves to die?

None of us is God. It’s about time we stopped acting as though we were.

* In 2000, I was so appalled by GW’s record on capital punishment while governor of Texas, I registered Republican to vote against him in the primaries. He had been extremely dismissive of any suggestions that there was anything wrong with the Texas death machine system of capital punishment — to the point where I figured he had to be either too stupid or too amoral and willing to play politics with people’s lives, and either case was unfit to be President. I think actually the answer may have been “all of the above.”

** Lovitt’s case is noteworthy also because his appellate lawyer was Ken Starr, the former special prosecutor. Even a conservative like Starr can understand the need for the death penalty to be carried out with the utmost care.

Posted in Justice, Social Issues | Tagged | 1 Comment