Breaking Obama News: Read It Here First

Barack Obama’s campaign staff announced today that he would be giving his acceptance speech during the opening ceremonies of the Beijing Olympics. The fact that he will not yet have been formally nominated does not deter him. “Formally shmormally,” an Obama supporter of unknown ethnicity told the AP.

Previously, the Democratic nominee had intended to give his speech at Denver’s Invesco Field, but plans fell through when a number of NFL All-Stars refused to take part in a mock Super Bowl beforehand. Said one unnamed source, “We felt that there was too much danger of getting stabbed if we had to wear those official Barack Obama flag lapel pins.”

A number of major musical acts will travel with the candidate to perform at his ceremony in China. Among these will be the reunited Beatles.

“He’s more popular right now than Jesus Christ,” John Lennon’s ghost said of the Democratic mega-star. “And more powerful, too. George and I have been trying to get Jesus to give us one more chance, but he kept saying he couldn’t. Obama got the job done.”

When questioned about the wisdom of the venue, Howard Dean, the Democratic National Committee Chairman, said, “Look. The guy is running for the biggest job in showbiz. It’s only fitting that the entire planet be able to see the big changes we have in store. Barack Obama will definitely not be your father’s King of the World.”

Dean warned the globe’s populace to wear protective sunglasses during the speech. “Believe me,” he said, “when you see that giant Obama head projected onto the sun, it’ll knock your eyes out. But I don’t mean that literally. We want to make sure that no one stares directly into his face without taking the proper precautions.”

Since the candidate hopes to appeal to everyone, regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, age, or geographic location, plans are also underway to beam his image onto the moon. Dean said, “Barack Obama wanted to make sure that even those unfortunates who are experiencing night-time during the speech can bask in his light. He’s that kind of caring person.”

Obama’s appearance will be preceded by seventy-two hours of prayer led by leaders of thousands of religious denominations. Even atheists will be included, Obama promised, as long as they’re people of faith.

John McCain, not to be outdone, has also changed the venue of his acceptance speech. He will now speak in the solarium of Dr. Olfarts Senior Center in Babbitt City, Minnesota. Tickets are free for anyone presenting a Depends box-top.

Libertarian candidate Bob Barr and Socialist candidate Brian Moore could be reached for comment, but we didn’t feel like printing anything they said.

The Same Ol' Fucken Political Story

This will get political, eventually; I promise. But just bear with me while I think with my typing fingers for a while.

To start with, I’d like once again to discuss, this time briefly, the word fuck here. Aside from the pleasurable physical sensation (which I described in this previous post) of saying it, there’s something about fuck — the “outlaw” nature of it, maybe — that tickles me.

I'm going to give examples of (1) a person who was recently embarrassed (unjustifiably, I think) by fuck, and (2) a person who wasn't.

Example 1: Mojoey laments that he said fuck in the presence of a child, albeit one he didn’t know was nearby. I think his ruefulness is wrong. Apart from in elementary school classrooms and at Disneyland, fuck should be perfectly acceptable. It’s a signal from one adult to another that he or she is taboo-free and refuses to be a prisoner of prevailing social mores.

Example 2: I’ve always enjoyed listening to Cyndi Lauper. Any woman who can record an entire song about female masturbation rates pretty high in my book. On her latest album, Bring Ya to the Brink, there’s a number called “Same Ol’ Story.” The powers-that-be have chosen to let the public know that the cut is “explicit.” So, of course, I was curious. Well, it turns out that the title is not exactly a verbatim quote of what Lauper says over and over again in her lyric. Here’s what she does say:

It’s the same ol’ fucken story.

Don’t you get a much better sense of what the song is about when I include the term omitted from the title? Am I wrong to find the singer’s anti-conventional attitude appealing?

Enough about fuck. There’s also Jesus Christ as an expletive, which many atheists, including myself, use freely. Again, we’re talking about a societal proscription: It’s bad to take the alleged lord’s name in vain, particularly when you yell it after you’ve stubbed your toe. But shouting JC's name has no more to do with believing in him than saying “it’s the same ol’ fucken story” has to do with asserting that the previous speaker’s tale was about sex.

I’m troubled by self-censorship. My attitude is: If people don’t like the way I fucking write, then Jesus Christ, they can stay away from my blog. That goes especially for you, kids!

I also hate it when someone says fudge, or intones Jiminy Cricket or Jeepers Crow, instead of what he or she really means. We all know what you’re thinking, pal; just come out with it.

There’s something slightly dishonest about saying fudge or Jiminy Cricket. But, really, it’s only mildly annoying, not terrible. What would be terrible would be to hear someone say, without a tone of irony, hooray when he dropped his ice cream cone, or fantastic when she banged her shin. Children, bereft of the power of expletives, cry when these things happen. Adults “curse.” A person who speaks a positive phrase in the light of either of these happenings would immediately be branded as a lunatic, or, at best, a liar.

Which brings me to my political point. We used to be able to depend on Barack Obama to say fuck and Jesus Christ — maybe not in so many words, but we knew what he meant — if someone had accused him of:

• being untrue to his commitment to public campaign financing;
• accepting the passage of FISA without a built-in telecom-immunity provision;
• wanting to propagate George W. Bush’s Faith-Based Initiatives;
• tolerating handguns;
• allowing anyone to take away a woman's right to obtain an abortion if her well-being, either physical or mental, is threatened;
• expanding the circumstances under which the death penalty can be applied;
• reneging on his vow that, if elected, he would set a timetable for the removal of all American troops from Iraq;
• practicing exclusionary politics by, say, banning from his photo ops any women who showed up in Muslim regalia.

In the last few weeks, though, we’ve learned that he no longer says even fudge or Jeepers Crow about those things.

He says hooray.

Barefootin'

People whose ancestors were Jews don’t usually feel fully comfortable complaining to governmental officials. There’s a famous picture of a Jew being forced to walk barefoot through the streets during the early years of Nazi Germany. He’s surrounded by mocking polizei. A sign has been hung from his neck, and it says something to the effect of: “I complained to the authorities, and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.”

But this is America, right? And yesterday I wrote that I would take some action about the genuine Jesus Christ paper prayer rug scam. Remember that the thick envelope containing that sacred relic arrived in my mailbox under the no-stamp-required guise of a message from a nonprofit organization.

I neglected to mention in my previous post that I was supposed to return the prayer rug — along with my “seed” money — to Saint Matthew’s Churches. “It is a must that you get this unusual blessing Church Prayer Rug out of this house and back to us, here at the church’s chapel prayer room, in faith.” Why? So that the very same scrap of paper can be rushed to “another family that’s in need of a blessing.”

Essentially, we’re talking about a bogus chain letter here. The urgent plea for me to return the prayer rug is clearly made to encourage an immediate response. It’s a taxpayer-financed get-rich-quick scheme.

So, I made some phone calls: the post office, my U.S. senators, and the IRS.

After introducing myself, here’s how I opened each conversation.

There’s a group of con artists that have apparently been given tax-exempt status as a nonprofit organization. They’re doing a mass mailing of a fraudulent chain letter asking me to send them money to a post office box. The group is posing as a church, but they’re criminals; the whole thing is clearly a scam. I object to using my hard-earned tax money to finance a crooked scheme.

I emphasized "my hard-earned tax money." If I could have spoken in red, boldface, italic, capitalized, underlined type, I would have. In lieu of that, I reached into my linguistic arsenal and found my pissed-off voice. That's the one I've borrowed from Donald Duck.

The Response at the Post Office

The woman at the post office took my name, address, and phone number. Then she asked for the name and address of the bogus church. After she got this information entered into “the system,” she apologized for my inconvenience. I told her that I accepted her apology but that, really, she wasn’t responsible.

“I don’t believe in killing the messenger,” I joked.

She didn’t understand what I meant, so she apologized again. I’m hoping that the Feds don’t show up to arrest me for making threats over the telephone.

The Response at (titular Democrat) Bill Nelson’s Office

I’m not a fan of either political party, but I tend to lean a bit more toward the Democrats’ line of bullshit these days. So first, I called Senator Bill Nelson’s office in Washington.

A too chipper guy answered the phone, and I rattled off my introductory paragraph.

He said, “Thanks for calling. I’ll pass that information along.”

I said, “Wait a minute. I didn’t give you any information.”

He said, “Oh, OK. Give me the information.”

I asked, “Will you pass it along?”

He said, “Mmm-hmmm. Yes. Definitely.”

I said, “No you won’t.” Then I hung up.

The Response at (Republican) Mel Martinez’s Office

The man who answered in Mel’s Washington office listened to my spiel and said I’d better call the senator’s local office in Florida. He gave me the number and told me to say I was phoning about “case work.”

I did so. A very charming woman listened carefully to my gripe and asked whom the letter came from. I told her and she said, “Well, obviously the IRS has given them tax-exempt status because they’re a church.”

I went into detail about the contents of the envelope. She chuckled a few times.

“Doesn’t that sound like a con to you?” I asked.

She laughed again. “I can’t really say,” she replied. “Lots of people have faith in different things. I go to church every Sunday and tithe, so I can understand when someone sends money to a church. But let me look this one up for you to see if there are any other complaints.”

I didn’t know where she was searching, but my astute Sherlock Holmes mind interpreted the tapping and I assumed it was somewhere on the Internet. I waited patiently for a few seconds. “Well,” she said, “you’re not the first person to make a charge against them.”

Then I heard the tapping again. She said, “I went to their Web site. It looks like they actually do have a church building. So it’s not just a post office box.”

“But, tell the truth. It looks kind of fishy, doesn’t it?”

She repeated: “Lots of people have faith in different things. I’ve heard of churches that sell water that’s supposed to be from the Sea of Galilee.”

“Yeah, other crooks. I mean, have you ever heard of a Christian prayer rug? Does that sound kosher to you?”

She tittered ever so slightly. “Well, I can’t say. But you might want to report this to the IRS and have them look into it.”

More tapping. “OK,” she said, “I’m at the IRS Web site and it looks like there’s a form you can fill out to complain about tax fraud.”

“Yes,” I said, “but isn’t that only if you’re trying to report a person or company who’s cheating on taxes? Like Al Capone.”

She giggled. I mentally gave her some points for recognizing my reference. “All right, I’ve got it. Here’s instructions about how to write a personal letter to them. That’s probably what you should do.”

She also gave me a phone number to call. I thanked her and told her that I was impressed with how non-commital she could be. She laughed yet again and wished me good luck.

The Response at the IRS

By now I felt like just some old crank, but I decided to finish what I’d started. After dialing the number and pushing the right buttons to get to the department I wanted, I was placed on hold. The music I heard was from “The Nutcracker Suite.” I checked my calendar to make sure it’s the middle of May. We old cranks sometimes forget stuff.

An agent finally answered and identified himself by name and official number. I went through my intro.

He told me I could either write a letter and mail it, fax a note with the appropriate details, or send an email. I said an email would be great, and he gave me the address. Then I asked him if it would be worth my time and effort. He said, “Yes. Give us as much information about the organization as you can. We like to investigate these things.”

So now, having spent a few hours mostly on hold, I’ll follow through. Tomorrow. By that time, I'll have recranked my crank.

More — if I actually get a response — in the future. In the meantime, watch for my barefoot photo in your local newspaper.

My Friends Call Me "Rezz"

Well, I guess Jesus is all-seeing after all. Even though I’m clearly identified here on No More Hornets as “The Exterminator,” the Christ has figured out that I don’t usually go by that title in my day-to-day life. I got a piece of mail from his representatives today, and it was addressed to me by the actual name I use in my non-blogging existence: RESIDENT. (Confession: It used to be RESIDENTOWITZ, but my grandparents changed it to make it sound more American.)

The envelope was dated “Sunday — May 2008.” I was under the mistaken impression that there were four Sundays in May 2008, but I guess I was wrong. However, I did wonder: If Jesus is so magical, how come I received the letter on a Wednesday? I guess we all know that the lord works in mysterious ways. As god always says: “Sunday, Shmunday. What am I, a watchmaker?”

Also on the envelope, there was a lot of red type and underlining and double-underlining and italics and boldface and BOLDFACE CAPS. And, of course, what would a note from Jesus be without at least one exclamation point! Not only is he omnipotent, omnibenevolent, and omniscient, but he's also omnifonted. In the beginning was the MS Word.

Contained inside the package was some hoopla about an accompanying paper prayer rug, and how the closed eyes on the Jesus face would open if I stared "into" them hard enough. They didn’t, but I was briefly able to see the messiah's face in complementary colors when I quickly looked up at my white wall. There was also the text of some mumbo-jumbo I was supposed to repeat while kneeling on the rug or holding it over my knees, as well as some instructions for where I should stick the thing overnight. No, not there. And of course I was asked — gently — to make a contribution to St. Matthew’s 57-year-old Church (not to be confused with St. Matthew’s 58-year-old Church), the institutional sender of this First Epistle to Residentians.

The prayer rug was a folded piece of 11 x 17 paper, tinted in lavender and orange, which is certainly the most holy color combination. Near the bottom, it was conveniently labeled "Church Prayer Rug," so I wouldn't mistakenly think it was just some run-of-the-mill unfolded picture of Jesus. The thorn-crowned savior's face sat smack in the center and some ersatz Persian-ruggish design surrounded him as a border. On the back of this treasure, a short text informed me that it had been “Soaked with the Power of Prayer.” It didn’t feel moist, but maybe that’s because I’m an atheist. Anyway, I was ordered to use it immediately, and return it because “Timing is important to God.” (That's probably why he's such a great comedian.)

So I had in my hands:

• a very personal letter (Dear ... Someone Connected with This Address);
• a genuine paper prayer rug with Jesus's authentic face, complete with a pathetic, solitary tear streaming down from his closed left eye;
• testimonials from women who had received financial windfalls from J.C., but neither of whom, judging from their pictures, saw fit to use the cash for a much needed makeover;
• an offer for a “FREE, DEUTERONOMY 8:18 PROSPERITY CROSS, BLESSED BY THE CHURCH (Look it up, you lazy bastards);
• special Christian fortune-cookie prophecies personally meant for me, RESIDENT (apparently, I may feel my inner power growing);
• a checklist designating exactly how I’d like the church to use their power of prayer for my family and myself (e.g., A New Car, A Money Blessing, or A Closer Walk With Jesus);
• an important shilling notice reminding me that I should “Pray about sowing a seed gift to the Lord’s work,” and asking me to “give God your best seed and believe Him for His best blessing" (yeah, I was tempted to do what you’re thinking of);
• and an enclosed return envelope (addressed to “PRAYER BY LETTERS”).

All this had been stuffed into a business envelope that had a printed notice in place of a stamp:

NONPROFIT ORG.
U.S. POSTAGE
PAID
PERMIT No.
636

So our tax dollars, yours and mine, are being used to pay mailing fees for a scamming CHRISTIAN CHAIN LETTER!!!

I’ll be calling the postal authorities tomorrow. I’ll also be contacting my congressman and both senators. More later.

I Saw Romney Kissing Santa Claus

Santa Claus Endorses Governor Romney! OK, I hate to do this to you, but you're gonna have to click on that link and at least watch the video (not the one to the right of the post, but the one embedded in it) before you read any further.

All done? Now maybe you're prepared to sing along:

I saw Romney kissing Santa Claus,
Underneath the chimney flue this year.
That Santa, what a creep,
In his bag reached really deep,
And handed up a gift to Mitt for
Luring in the sheep.

Then I heard Romney telling Santa Claus,
“'Under God' is what I love to hear!"
Oh, what a tragedy it was
For secularists becuz,
Romney’s kissing ev'ry fundy's rear.

Which Faith Do They Mean?

In America, any person, even a presidential wannabe, is free to practice whatever religion he or she chooses. Constitutionally, it would seem that a candidate is free to mention his or her beliefs, and members of the voting public are equally free to use those religious beliefs as a Ouija Board pointer to help them pick a favorite.

When presidential candidates refer to their “faith,” though, they almost always use the word in the abstract. But in their private lives, they all do claim to practice a specific religion. It would be deceitful for candidates to claim that their faith is merely some amorphous belief in a fuzzy, non-sectarian supernatural being. No, for each candidate, his or her faith springs from a particular set of religious teachings, which conflict with the teachings of other religions. A candidate who professes faith is essentially endorsing one religion over others.

The implication of all the “faith” talk is that each candidate will, if elected, use his or her faith to influence presidential actions. Otherwise, why discuss faith at all?

But using a specific faith under which to govern may lead to a violation of the First Amendment. That amendment speaks only of the actions of Congress, not of the president. However, if Congress follows the policy recommendations of a president who uses his or her faith to help decide governmental questions, that Congress is endorsing the president’s religion — at the expense of others.

A president swears (or affirms — ha!) to “... preserve, protect and defend the constitution of the United States.” That Constitution clearly forbids lawmakers from establishing religion (Note: not a religion, but religion in general).

Some interpreters argue that an “a” is implied, and that Congress may legislate in a vaguely pro-religious way as long as it doesn’t support one belief system over another. But nobody except the most blatant theocrat believes that one religion should be favored. So the president, whoever it may be, must not allow Congress to be swayed by his or her own particular form of faith. If the president makes decisions based on that faith — a faith grounded in a specific religion — and urges legislators to implement such decisions, the president is acting contrary to an explicit Constitutional prohibition.

Therefore: For a candidate to make an implied promise that faith will play a part in his or her governmental decisions is tantamount to saying that he or she, if elected, will violate the Constitution.

How Much Is That Dogma in the Window?

I suspect that most American atheists would not enjoy being classified as friendly puppydogs. So it’s time we stopped slobbering and wagging our tails, as if we’ve been offered some fantastic treat, whenever a political candidate says that he or she promises to uphold the Constitutional separation of church and state. That’s not a special yummy for us freethinkers, a First Amendment bone; it’s the law. And it benefits everyone except the ayatollahs among us.

Still, in exchange for that phantom goody, many of us atheists are willing to roll over and play dead while every single presidential contender takes his or her faith out for its daily walk.

Yes, the mythos says it’s impossible for a professed nonbeliever to get elected to high office in the United States. But how does that justify the incessant religious rhetoric? Wherever you turn—left, right, or center—you hear one of the candidates talking about the deep spiritual beliefs that, they all swear, make our country great.

This kind of thing is a well-rehearsed gospel tune of the Republicans. But the Democrats are singing it, too, booming it out loudly and proudly, vying to be noticed in the theocratic choir.

Even the least Jesus-jumping among them are eager for the opportunity to leap for the lord in front of the cameras. Here are a few instances of that phenomenon. Bear in mind: These are just the tip of the Christberg.

Example: According to the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life, Hillary Clinton says that she sees “no contradiction between support for faith-based programs and upholding our constitutional principles.” This statement is not necessarily an endorsement of governmentally sponsored initiatives. But it’s not a condemnation, either. It’s neutral. Edwards and Obama have made similar ambiguous pronouncements. Clearly, these hypocrites would like to leave the nation’s holy hooligans with the impression—mistaken or not—that the White House under a new regime would continue to recognize a special role for religion.

Example: The New York Times of April 30 includes a lengthy article that discusses Barack Obama’s “Search for Faith.” Masquerading as news, the piece pretends to examine the candidate’s relationship with Trinity United Church of Christ and its controversial pastor, the Reverend Jeremiah A. Wright, Jr. Whatever else the text says, its real message is clear: Barack Obama is a Christian. This drivel was obviously written with the collusion, or at least the tacit approval, of the Obama campaign. You didn’t see the candidate at a press conference telling the media, “I’d appreciate it if you all left my religious views out of this race.”

Example: While still governor of New Mexico, Bill Richardson created the Governor’s Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives. He also gave all state employees a half day off with pay, at public expense, to honor Pope John Paul II when the pontiff kicked the jewel-encrusted bucket.

Example: Last week, Joe Biden, as quoted by the Associated Press, inarticulately urged his party “to demonstrate that it’s not afraid to deal with the faith issue, and has a candidate who the public thinks knows there’s something bigger than he or she is and is comfortable with that.”

Example: Dennis Kucinich, the New-Age Vegan Roman Catholic Munchkin, is a strong supporter of separation. But in 2004, he apparently accepted an invitation to be interviewed by beliefnet.com. During a meandering and vague discussion, he was asked: What do you think were the spiritual principles that animated the founding of the country? His answer: “An understanding of the role of divine providence. An understanding of the connection between God and nature. An appreciation for the possibility that life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness flowed from a transcendant source. Things like that.”

Well, things like that are what lead to a theocratic state. While Turkish secularists are barking vehemently on the streets of Istanbul to protest a religious takeover of their country, we American atheist puppies are quietly licking the hands of godpushers who give us half-hearted pats on the head, all the while threatening to restrain the country with a heaven-held leash.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not advocating a lack-of-religion test for candidates. They’re free to worship any idol they please. But when they parade their pet dogma voluntarily, in hopes of endearing themselves to a gullible electorate, we atheists should at least snarl.

Imus in the ... Warning

Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I occasionally listened to Don Imus’s morning show, unimaginatively but accurately named Imus in the Morning, on WNBC radio in New York City. In those days of our country’s — and my own — relative innocence, it seemed enormously funny to hear female callers being asked, “Are you naked?” Just the word “naked” being set loose into the airwaves was hilarious; the fact that many responses were a sultry “yes,” made the humor even more rib-busting.

As I matured, though, I began to realize that there was absolutely nothing even vaguely comical about that repeated interchange. It was moronic, schoolboy comedy, on the level of fart noises and booger jokes. Even before Imus was fired in 1977, he had gone his auditory way, and I had gone mine.

What I did find entertaining, but only slightly, was the fact that Imus later wrote a novel called God’s Other Son: The Life and Times of the Reverend Billy Sol Hargus. Published in 1981, the book’s title was scurrilous, and, to an atheist like me, titillating. I bought it — proud to support any anti-religious sentiment — but I never got past the first few pages. Sinclair Lewis had done a much better hatchet job on the evangelicals in Elmer Gantry, published about 55 years earlier. As I remember Imus's book, it was not very well written, nor was it witty; but it did have that cool controversial title on its cover and spine. It conformed to its author's M.O.: a jolt of superficial shock for shock’s sake, hiding a lack of substance. For years, people who came to my house and goggled at my extensive book collection as if I were running a museum, would notice the Imus work tucked away in a far corner. They’d ask what I thought of it, and I’d confess, “I haven’t read it — yet.” Some time in the late ‘80s, that "yet" became "ever." God's Other Son found its way into a giveaway box of junk volumes, along with Hesse’s Siddhartha, Rand’s For the New Intellectual, The Gospel According to Peanuts, T.S. Eliot’s cat poems, and an anthology of elephant jokes.

I hadn’t thought about Don Imus since I kissed his novel goodbye. Until this week, when he became a media un-darling.

I suspect that Imus was paid by his corporate bosses, as all controversial commentators are, to be (1) thought-provoking, (2) funny, and (3) challenging to conventional wisdom — not necessarily in that order. What he said about the Rutgers team was certainly not thought-provoking; it was not funny, except to addle-brained goofballs who laugh, as I did at the word “naked,” whenever they hear something taboo uttered; and it was definitely not challenging to conventional wisdom, since “wisdom,” conventional or otherwise, and “college basketball” are not overlapping magisteria. Here’s what it was: offensive, for no reason.

Now, if Imus had called, say, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, for instance, “hos for publicity,” that might have been (1), (2), and (3). But he didn’t. Instead, he hurled a racist and sexist slur at a group of basically anonymous women who are not public figures deserving of serious criticism — except maybe for the way they played.

The above-named Jackson and Sharpton, sniffing media blood in the water, the possibility of hours and hours of nourishing photo ops and sound bites, then decided to swim in for the self-promoting kill. Jackson, himself, is not exactly innocent of ethnic slurs. His famous anti-semitic characterization of New York City as “Hymietown” was one of the lowlights of the 1984 presidential campaign. Sharpton has been making hay out of racial divisions ever since he became a meme as a spokesperson for the black community in the bogus Tawana Brawley case. It wasn’t long before every third-rate pundit joined the feeding frenzy. Even some of the sharks in the blog-sea are shocked — shocked! — at Imus’s behavior.

Let’s get this straight. Free speech is a right. No government should censor anyone’s expression, no matter how odious. However, broadcasting bigwigs are not the government — not yet, anyway. They can shut up anyone they please, for any reason. They don’t even have to be consistent; they can choose to tolerate specific offensive language from some people and not from others. So Imus has it wrong about rap musicians; it’s perfectly “fair,” in a free-market sense, to single him out. The firings of Don Imus did not infringe in any way on his First Amendment guarantees.

Oddly enough, though, the women who were actually insulted by Imus accepted his insincere apologies. A practical-minded recruiter for Rutgers even pointed out, “You can’t pay for publicity like this.” Ask all those politicans and media mavens who, for years, exploited Imus’s popularity by appearing on his show. They knew that, too. The guy was harmless; his guests must have felt sure that listeners would tune out Imus’s idiocy, leaving interviewees free to use his desirable venue in promoting their own ideas.

Do I think that Imus’s comment was offensive? Definitely; I would choose to have nothing to do with a person who expressed himself that way. Do I care, personally, that Imus was summarily cashiered? Nope; it won’t affect my life at all.

But the incident sets a dangerous precedent, in that it empowers the theocrats, like the reverends Jackson and Sharpton, as well as countless other mind-control freaks of the political right and left. They know that Americans wear their various sensitivities proudly, and, as a people, have forgotten how to shrug off inanities. We have become, all of us, dangerously thin-skinned, regardless of the color of that skin.

What Imus said was nasty and stupid, but it didn’t hurt anyone. He wasn’t calling for an official reaction against his targets, whoever they might have been. He wasn’t asking his listeners to join him in a political campaign to oppose marriage between consenting adults, or to blow up clinics that provide legal medical services. He wasn’t trying to persuade gullible teenagers that they can obliterate their perfectly natural urges by taking a vow to a supernatural being, or deny adequate education to children whose parents would prefer that their offspring remain blissfully ignorant. He was not promoting a war based on lies, not making a mockery of the justice system, not advocating torture, not letting his public policy be bought and paid for by special interests, and not stealing taxpayer dollars to feed into the pockets of the pious mind-twisters. He was just being an ass, and a not very interesting one at that.

So here’s what the Imus situation should teach us. Demagogues of all varieties can use trivial insults to whip up a vast artificial rage that, maybe, most people don’t really feel. The momentum of that spurious anger, unfortunately, can act as a smokescreen hiding the genuine ills in our society. We get hyped up to go on an intellectual rampage over a stupid comment by a no-talent radio personality, but sit apathetically by while our rights are trampled by a no-talent president. After all, he didn’t insult anybody, right?

Meanwhile, the gleeful hierophants wait patiently for us to take umbrage at some frivolous affront. Then they use that latest instance of our national hypersensitivity for their own purposes. In a sudden burst of the news cycle, they rush in and grasp temporary power.

The next target of the rabble-rousers will be, as promised, the music industry. Afterwards, probably that evil Jew-controlled Hollywood will come under scrutiny again. Maybe, in the not-too-distant future, publishers and booksellers who offer those disgusting atheist diatribes will be asked to answer for their transgressions.

And so I say to anyone who has joined in the general condemnatory hysteria: May the farce be with you.

Goldwater on Godpushers

In 1981, Senator Barry Goldwater spoke these words from the Senate floor:

I’m frankly sick and tired of the political preachers across this country telling me as a citizen that if I want to be a moral person, I must believe in A, B, C and D. Just who do they think they are? And from where do they presume to claim the right to dictate their moral beliefs to me? And I am even more angry as a legislator who must endure the threats of every religious group who thinks it has some God-granted right to control my vote on every roll call in the Senate.

These are the kinds of sentiments that John Edwards should have expressed about the Christian nutjobs who criticized some of his staffing choices. No matter. Yesterday, Amanda Marcotte resigned her position in his campaign. Her Pandagon site carries her announcement, as well as an enlightening update about the many enotes she received from the loving Christians who want to see her in hell and/or give her a "real good fucking" up the ass.

[BREAKING NEWS at 11:15 p.m.: Melissa McEwan just announced her resignation, as well. Read her explanation at Shakespeare's Sister.]

For more info and invective—and plenty of witty sarcasm—on the whole blogger/Edwards thing, you might want to read the latest posts by The Raving Atheist.

In the meantime, here’s my very brief summary of the most prominent 2008 candidates, vis a vis the theocrats:

Edwards: weasel

Obama: says he has a “personal relationship with Jesus”

Clinton: hired an “evangelical consultant” in December

McCain: has been puckering up big-time to the pulpiteers

Giuliani: is backpedaling as fast as he can on his pro-choice position

Romney: supports all the fundies' views—except their hatred of Mormons

If anyone can recommend a viable candidate who will get even half as incensed about the American ayatollahs as Goldwater did, feel free to leave a comment.

Happy Birthday, Sanity

Monday is the 34^th anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision, in which a Texas law banning abortions was found unconstitutional by the Supreme Court.

Opponents of choice have always had to argue that the fetus is a person. You may find it instructive and/or fun to read the transcript of the original argument of the case, which took place on December 13, 1971. You can read even more discussion of the fetus’s personhood in the transcript of the reargument, which occurred on October 11, 1972. (The reargument was scheduled to allow Justices Rehnquist and Powell to hear what the lawyers had to say; it's clear that most of the other justices had already made up their minds.) If you have time, you might enjoy listening to Texas’s nonsensical claims by clicking the appropriate audio button on the Oyez web site.

Whether or not the fetus is a “person” could not then, and still cannot now, be considered a scientific question. It is a lexico-theological issue, over which hovers the religious concept of “soul.” In the first argument, lawyer Jay Floyd, appearing for Texas Assistant Attorney General Wade, slipped in that very word near the end of his allotted time. To their discredit, none of the justices challenged him.

In the second argument, Robert C. Flowers replaced Floyd. Early on, Flowers said “... it is the position of the state of Texas that, upon conception, we have a human being; a person within the concept of the Constitution of the United States, and that of Texas, also.”

Justice Potter Stewart jumped on this statement: “Now how should that question be decided? Is it a legal question? A constitutional question? A medical question? A philosophical question? Or a religious question? Or what is it?”

Flowers waffled by placing that decision on the shoulders of first, “the legislature,” and, ultimately, the Court. The justices let Stewart’s pointed query die a-borning. He raised it again later, but Flowers continued to pass the buck. The Court cravenly ignored the religious implications; there was not even a pregnant pause. No one on the bench pointed out that none of the framers was a fetus.

If you don’t believe in a soul, you’ll have trouble accepting the personhood of a bundle of microscopic goo. Yes, it contains human cells, the building blocks of a person. But a Lego set isn’t the Taj Mahal.

A toenail clipping, a stray hair, an invisible droplet of saliva—all of these contain human DNA. Are they persons? Not to anyone who’s sane.

Soldiers, on the other hand, are clearly persons. But again, only to those who are sane.

Unfortunately, sanity may no longer be a desideratum, as it was when Roe v. Wade was correctly decided. Today, a son of Texas, having attained high office, has honed irrationality to an art. He opposes the aborting of cell clusters, as his state’s governmental forebears did, but asks the American public to extol the aborting of young people in uniform.

If Justice Stewart were still alive, he might wonder: "Now how should that question be decided? Is it a philosophical question? Or a religious question? Or what is it?”

Our Haggard Government

Because I’m an atheist, the hypocrisy of the nation’s high priests entertains me immensely. It’s spiritually delicious to discover a religious muck-a-muck with his holy pants down. But whether or not Ted Haggard was “massaged” by a male prostitute or purchased methamphetamines affects me not at all.

What does affect me, though, is that Haggard’s reading of fish entrails—or whatever other religious marvels he claimed to perform—was a subject of serious presidential consideration. Not only that, but for years the reverend’s outworn opinions may well have influenced the votes of elected representatives in both the Senate and the House. As the Associated Press writes today: “Haggard ... has participated in conference calls with White House staffers and lobbied Congress last year on Supreme Court nominees.” This phraseology beats around the Bush, but The New York Times was more direct yesterday when it stated that Haggard was a communicant in “the White House’s Monday conference calls with conservative Christian leaders.”

Now, the President and Congress certainly have the prerogative to seek out any advice they wish, even from the witch-doctors that the religious right and its minions seem to favor. But at what cost to Americans do they allow voodoo to control decisions best left to reason? Just like Ted Haggard, we ought to be told the price we’re paying to get screwed.

Jesus's Pal and the Playboy Bunny

I’m so tired of reading about poor Harold Ford, Jr. and the Republicans’ Playboy bunny ad.

Didn’t he ask for just such a response when he ran his own commercial recorded in a church? That's the dirtiest piece of political pandering in the Tennessee Senatorial race.

Ford’s message begins with the image of cross-laden stained glass windows and the sound of an organ playing a crypto-hymn. "Hey, Christians, have I got a guy for you!" We hear the candidate’s voice as the camera slowly pans back to reveal him in all his heavenly glory. A wall-hanging of yet another cross, a white one on a pink background—is that color supposed to reassure liberals?—casts Jesus’s approval on the candidate’s message. “Here, I learned the difference between right and wrong,” Ford says glibly, as he marches piously toward us. Then he rattles off a number of issues for which his vote was “right”—not at all in the moral sense, but certainly in the Republican one.

At the end, Ford positions himself in a pew so that the symbol of right-wing hate shines with a holy glow over his shoulder. The camera slowly moves in for a closeup—on both the candidate and Christ. Ford intones, “I won’t let them make me someone I’m not.” What he’s not is a politician we can depend on to take a stand against theocracy. “I’ll always fight for you,” he vows. The implication: As long as you’re a Christian.

But please don’t take my word on faith. See the ad for yourself. Watch it now.

This is the kind of political spot that most Republicans would never dare to approve for themselves. But Ford is a Democrat, so it’s OK for him to pretend he has the endorsement of the conservatives’ sky-buddy.

And once again, we atheists are left without a viable candidate to protect our rights.

The way I see it, the Republican ad does not defame Ford; it defames Playboy bunnies.