One of the fascinating, and for Anglican sticklers like myself, vexing ways catholic Christianity finds itself in conflict with modern Western culture is over Christmas. Not just the current "War on Christmas" of Fox News fame which is a more recognizable part of the Culture Wars, but the conflict between the commercial secular calendar and the catholic liturgical calendar.
Out on the public square it has been Christmas since well before Thanksgiving. Decorations and carols have been popping up since early November, which is late. I think only the Election kept them from coming out in late October. Last year I saw Christmas candy next to Halloween candy the week before All Hallow's Eve (that year, in a different store, I watched as employees put up a Valentine's Day candy display....on Christmas Eve!). By the time December 25 actually arrives, everyone is so sick of Christmas kitsch that it very quickly gets the boot. As the "Holiday Season" creeps ever earlier, it is also starting to end sooner. I saw neighbors taking down their Christmas ornaments the next morning, and most stores were clear of red and green by the following weekend. It has long irritated me that the Boy Scouts insist on doing their Christmas tree pick-up well before Christmas actually ends. But it makes a great deal of sense to them since most people want the ol' Tanenbaum out of the house well before the champagne corks pop at midnight, January 1.
This vexes catholic (small 'c') sticklers, because the liturgical calendar has things the other way around. The month before the feast of the Incarnation is Advent, and Christmas lasts nearly a fortnight after the 25th. Episcopalians can be so pugnacious about this that December on the Church Pension Group's wall calendar has a humorous depiction of the "Advent Police" citing people for Christmas activity too early. The most obvious example of this obstreperousness is in music. Despite the public's longing for it, despite the radio stations blaring them, and the shopping malls drowning in them, you will not hear Christmas carols in Church until Christmas Eve. And then, we will sing them to our hearts content for nearly two weeks, long after everyone else is sick of them. We get around this in some ways, usually with non-liturgical events, caroling parties, hospital visits, "concerts" and such, but in liturgy we hold the line.
Their are only a few real vestiges of the liturgical seasons remaining. One is the only Advent hymn which has managed to cross over into the Christmas carol world, O Come, O Come Emmanuel (well, it's appropriate for both, but it's primarily an Advent hymn in Church). Another is an entirely secular song, The Twelve Days of Christmas. The latter, with its partridges and pear trees, is of course problematic. Coupled with the continuing popularity of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, it should remind people that Christmas does not end until the eve of the feast of the Epiphany, January 6 (which is to say, on the Twelfth Night after Christmas...Jan. 5...twelve days after Christmas Eve). But as I recall reading in an article last year, polls show a majority of Americans think the "twelve days of Christmas" are the twelve days before Christmas. Argh!
The irony of all of this....Advent has some of the best hymns of the whole year. When I scan my mental lexicon of favorite hymns, probably as much as a third are from Advent. Which brings me to really an essential point...modern American culture, even when it seizes upon certain aspects of its own Christian heritage, completely misses out on the richest parts of the catholic tradition and the Christian faith itself. In some ways we should not complain. It is precisely the commercialization of Christmas that is robbing it of its import to most people, and leading to the Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays Wars we see in the news. That Western capitalism has not capitalized on Advent (or Easter or Pentecost) is probably a blessing. But that does not mean that most people aren't missing out.So when you see me in the store, looking slightly pained at every Jingle-Bell Rock, know that in my heart I'm singing something else. Songs of expectation of the coming of Christ, not just as the babe at Christmas, but in glory at the end of time.
For the record...some of my favorites:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVjL4tRYrD4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yw639RcD2YU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Lj48lYLIvs
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L0VuMxp5mUE
I may treat the words of these over the next few days. The words, after all, are the important thing. But for the moment, the music is splendid enough. (They're pretty good arrangements, and make me want to keep an encouraging eye on the nice folks at http://hifihymnbook.com/).
Monday, December 8, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Thwacked Again
One of my holiday delights was to have that certain reader (who has not even seen fit to leave a comment herself) chastize me once more for only posting when I'm gravely ill. I find it difficult to believe that my comments are so interesting that one would want to read me daily or even weekly. But I can confess that I too am slightly irritated when bloggers I enjoy reading slacken off. One of my particular favorites, Captain Sacrament, has not posted for over a month. I managed to get a blogging priest I know (who shall remain nameless) posting again...once. Then nothing, despite my suggestion that he post the notes from at least one, particularly excellent, sermon I heard him give recently. So I can certainly see why someone would want to thwack me with the Stick of Compassion, to wake me from my semi-meditative slumber. So to that restive reader, I say I will post again very soon...perhaps if this tickle in my throat gets worse.
Ah, I see Kyle has come out of hiding, and has big plans.
Ah, I see Kyle has come out of hiding, and has big plans.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
A Sad Correction
It would seem that the Summer of the Thousand Fires has not truly ended, at least for the good people of Southern California. I do wish I had been right that it was over. The Northstate may not be out of the woods yet either. For all our sakes, I do hope it ends soon.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Yes, apparently we can!
Well, look at what we just did!
I was really too engrossed in the news to liveblog last night, but here's about how my thoughts went:
It did not look particularly good for Obama at first. No one had any illusions about Kentucky, but the speed at which they called it for McCain (along with Vermont, no surprise) was a little unsettling to me.
Then it became abundantly clear that McCain would carry Georgia. The first of the states Obama had outside hopes for, and where stories of massive turnout and African-American enthusiasm were abounding, to be called for McCain (well it is not officially called even now because of masses of absentee and early vote ballots....but it pretty well stated that McCain would take it by a decent margin, though that margin has narrowed a bit since).
The most worrying sign was that for the first couple of hours McCain was leading the count by a wide margin in Virginia. Yes...it's because NoVa and the Tidewater came in last...but it was still worrying to see McCain up 10% in the Old Dominion for the first hour or more. Even Olbermann started commenting on how the expansion of the map Obama had promised was not materializing. Pundits on CNN and Fox were similarly skeptical.
For the next hour there were no surprises....Massachusetts, Connecticut, South Carolina.
But it was immediately apparent this was a different sort of year, as no one was calling Indiana, or North Carolina, or New Hampshire.
Then the nets called Pennsylvania. McCain has practically lived in Pennsylvania for the last three months. The speed at which it was called was as striking as Kentucky had been.
I watched the returns with my father, who was unnecessarily confident at this point. I remained a study in caution...carefully eyeing the numbers in still unfavorable Virginia. Several pundits and pollsters had suggested Virginia (or Indiana) would be the state that would let us all know how this was going to shape up. After all, Obama was supposed to be up 10% there, it should be easy.
Instead.....
The moment the networks called Ohio, I knew it was over. I was so startled by the call, I actually shut the TV off for a second to collect myself. I fully expected it to be close like in 2004, and not be called for some time (it was the next day last time). I had to check Fox just to make sure. But there it was. We now reversed positions as my confidence surged past my father's. I had to walk him through the numbers, to demonstrate that nothing short of McCain taking California would save him.
The rest was icing on the cake. And some icing it was...
By the end of the night the symbolic victories I wanted most had occurred. Indiana rejoined the Union (they've voted with the South long enough). And then my dear Nevada. And finally the old capital of the Confederacy itself, Virginia.
Of all the things I hoped for, the biggest would be that Obama would carry one or more of the infamous 1964 states, the dozen or more states that haven't voted Democratic since LBJ (other than Minnesota and DC, the Democrats have never been able to inspire such loyalty...even Massachusetts went for Reagan). By George, he got two of them. All night I was calling out to the TV, "Flip Indiana....flip! Restore the Union!" and "Come on Virginia! You can do it". No wonder they call campaigns a horse race. Gradually Obama's deficit in Virginia vanished, with Fairfax County and Newport News putting him well over the top. Just before I went to bed, the Hoosiers followed suit.
And in the end, they didn't call it until the West Coast had closed, until our Pacific states had made it official. Florida, once the keystone, was now almost an afterthought. As were hard fought Colorado and New Mexico.
There were minor disappointments. As someone who loves the Great Plains, I had thought North Dakota would be incredibly symbolic (another 1964 holdout). I also had high hopes for Montana. I respect McCain too much to want to see him humiliated, so I was actually pleased that Arizona remained loyal.
Other interesting things:
- California has gotten irritatingly used to being written off. In several of the past elections the thing was called before our polls were even closed. For all of our might as the largest state with the most votes, we are pretty soundly ignored most of the time (Yes I know...it's because we're solid Democratic, so count your blessings). This time, with 2000 in mind, the networks waited until the Pacific closed to announce. CNN was particularly cautious, not calling states for up to half an hour after Fox and MSNBC. I actually think that was good of them. Makes us feel like our votes count.
- Looks like Missouri is going to break its streak. Except for 1956 (when they went for Adlai), Missouri has voted with the winner in every election in since 1908. 100 years. 1908 and 2008, I suppose, are good bookends, with 1956 almost half-way.
- Ohio didn't break its. It remains that a Republican cannot seem to win without it (though they can lose with it).
- Some margins were larger than I expected: Ohio, New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, North Dakota. Some were closer: Virginia was closer than the polls predicted, though I thought it would be close. Some were razor close: Indiana, Missouri, North Carolina.
- McCain campaign bluster about Iowa and Pennsylvania proved to be as bogus as most people thought.
- Congress was a different story. The predicted Democratic wave never really materialized, as evidenced by Ms. Bachmann, the Diaz-Balart brothers, Mr. Souder, as well as Senators McConnell, Chambliss, Coleman, and Stevens. Coleman does face a recount. Chambliss faces a runoff he should easily win. And Stevens may yet end up in jail. But it was nowhere near the filibuster ending sweep that many predicted. Personally I think that may end up being good. There is less chance for excess, more need for bipartisanship, and slightly less opportunity for the Republicans to blame everything in the next two years on a runaway Dem Senate. Besides, with the aid of moderates like Lugar, the ladies from Maine, and, dare I say, McCain, the Democrats are going to be able to get a lot done. The wild card is Leiberman. Reid is still going to want his vote in the caucus, and the Republicans are going to woo him like nothin' doin', but no one likes a Benedict Arnold. He may have acted quite bravely, but I suspect he will still end up persona non grata in the Democratic Party. And I suspect he'll need to make some retirement plans in four years.
I have other thoughts as well, but I'll close with this. The Conventional Wisdom has been wrong about everything this election with one massive exception. About the primaries, who was "inevitable", how the conventions were run, and the debates, the ways the electorate would split, and what states would be safe or in play....the CW was wrong on it all. But there has been one overarching assumption that served as a backdrop for all....that this was bound to be a Democratic year.
Still when one thinks about it, its really quite incredible.
President Barack Obama....good heavens what a sound. Who would ever have thought it.
A historic day.
I was really too engrossed in the news to liveblog last night, but here's about how my thoughts went:
It did not look particularly good for Obama at first. No one had any illusions about Kentucky, but the speed at which they called it for McCain (along with Vermont, no surprise) was a little unsettling to me.
Then it became abundantly clear that McCain would carry Georgia. The first of the states Obama had outside hopes for, and where stories of massive turnout and African-American enthusiasm were abounding, to be called for McCain (well it is not officially called even now because of masses of absentee and early vote ballots....but it pretty well stated that McCain would take it by a decent margin, though that margin has narrowed a bit since).
The most worrying sign was that for the first couple of hours McCain was leading the count by a wide margin in Virginia. Yes...it's because NoVa and the Tidewater came in last...but it was still worrying to see McCain up 10% in the Old Dominion for the first hour or more. Even Olbermann started commenting on how the expansion of the map Obama had promised was not materializing. Pundits on CNN and Fox were similarly skeptical.
For the next hour there were no surprises....Massachusetts, Connecticut, South Carolina.
But it was immediately apparent this was a different sort of year, as no one was calling Indiana, or North Carolina, or New Hampshire.
Then the nets called Pennsylvania. McCain has practically lived in Pennsylvania for the last three months. The speed at which it was called was as striking as Kentucky had been.
I watched the returns with my father, who was unnecessarily confident at this point. I remained a study in caution...carefully eyeing the numbers in still unfavorable Virginia. Several pundits and pollsters had suggested Virginia (or Indiana) would be the state that would let us all know how this was going to shape up. After all, Obama was supposed to be up 10% there, it should be easy.
Instead.....
The moment the networks called Ohio, I knew it was over. I was so startled by the call, I actually shut the TV off for a second to collect myself. I fully expected it to be close like in 2004, and not be called for some time (it was the next day last time). I had to check Fox just to make sure. But there it was. We now reversed positions as my confidence surged past my father's. I had to walk him through the numbers, to demonstrate that nothing short of McCain taking California would save him.
The rest was icing on the cake. And some icing it was...
By the end of the night the symbolic victories I wanted most had occurred. Indiana rejoined the Union (they've voted with the South long enough). And then my dear Nevada. And finally the old capital of the Confederacy itself, Virginia.
Of all the things I hoped for, the biggest would be that Obama would carry one or more of the infamous 1964 states, the dozen or more states that haven't voted Democratic since LBJ (other than Minnesota and DC, the Democrats have never been able to inspire such loyalty...even Massachusetts went for Reagan). By George, he got two of them. All night I was calling out to the TV, "Flip Indiana....flip! Restore the Union!" and "Come on Virginia! You can do it". No wonder they call campaigns a horse race. Gradually Obama's deficit in Virginia vanished, with Fairfax County and Newport News putting him well over the top. Just before I went to bed, the Hoosiers followed suit.
And in the end, they didn't call it until the West Coast had closed, until our Pacific states had made it official. Florida, once the keystone, was now almost an afterthought. As were hard fought Colorado and New Mexico.
There were minor disappointments. As someone who loves the Great Plains, I had thought North Dakota would be incredibly symbolic (another 1964 holdout). I also had high hopes for Montana. I respect McCain too much to want to see him humiliated, so I was actually pleased that Arizona remained loyal.
Other interesting things:
- California has gotten irritatingly used to being written off. In several of the past elections the thing was called before our polls were even closed. For all of our might as the largest state with the most votes, we are pretty soundly ignored most of the time (Yes I know...it's because we're solid Democratic, so count your blessings). This time, with 2000 in mind, the networks waited until the Pacific closed to announce. CNN was particularly cautious, not calling states for up to half an hour after Fox and MSNBC. I actually think that was good of them. Makes us feel like our votes count.
- Looks like Missouri is going to break its streak. Except for 1956 (when they went for Adlai), Missouri has voted with the winner in every election in since 1908. 100 years. 1908 and 2008, I suppose, are good bookends, with 1956 almost half-way.
- Ohio didn't break its. It remains that a Republican cannot seem to win without it (though they can lose with it).
- Some margins were larger than I expected: Ohio, New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, North Dakota. Some were closer: Virginia was closer than the polls predicted, though I thought it would be close. Some were razor close: Indiana, Missouri, North Carolina.
- McCain campaign bluster about Iowa and Pennsylvania proved to be as bogus as most people thought.
- Congress was a different story. The predicted Democratic wave never really materialized, as evidenced by Ms. Bachmann, the Diaz-Balart brothers, Mr. Souder, as well as Senators McConnell, Chambliss, Coleman, and Stevens. Coleman does face a recount. Chambliss faces a runoff he should easily win. And Stevens may yet end up in jail. But it was nowhere near the filibuster ending sweep that many predicted. Personally I think that may end up being good. There is less chance for excess, more need for bipartisanship, and slightly less opportunity for the Republicans to blame everything in the next two years on a runaway Dem Senate. Besides, with the aid of moderates like Lugar, the ladies from Maine, and, dare I say, McCain, the Democrats are going to be able to get a lot done. The wild card is Leiberman. Reid is still going to want his vote in the caucus, and the Republicans are going to woo him like nothin' doin', but no one likes a Benedict Arnold. He may have acted quite bravely, but I suspect he will still end up persona non grata in the Democratic Party. And I suspect he'll need to make some retirement plans in four years.
I have other thoughts as well, but I'll close with this. The Conventional Wisdom has been wrong about everything this election with one massive exception. About the primaries, who was "inevitable", how the conventions were run, and the debates, the ways the electorate would split, and what states would be safe or in play....the CW was wrong on it all. But there has been one overarching assumption that served as a backdrop for all....that this was bound to be a Democratic year.
Still when one thinks about it, its really quite incredible.
President Barack Obama....good heavens what a sound. Who would ever have thought it.
A historic day.
Monday, November 3, 2008
24 Hours
Well we've come down to it. After two years of endless debates, ads, wrangling it's time. It has been such a fascinating election season. Nearly all of the conventional wisdom has been thrown in disarray at one point or another. I remember reading articles a year or more ago announcing the inevitability of Hillary Clinton or Rudy Giuliani. There was one conservative article that sticks in my mind, where the author confidently asserted that Obama would lose the primary, but would be back in 2016...after 8 years of President Romney. My mind floods with memories of posts entitled "Why Fred Thompson will win!" or "Why Mitt Romney will win!" or "The Audacity of Barack Obama" which excoriated him for daring to think he could take on the Clinton machine.
Now here we are, (barring some recount fiasco) one rotation of the Earth away from Decision 2008. Random thoughts on the whirlwind this has been:
- It will be historic either way, an African-American President or a woman Vice-President. What this says about our country is incredibly heartening.
- The bitter primary probably helped Obama more than anyone thought. The Right has been complaining that McCain didn't bring up Rev. Wright or Tony Rezko, who have been described as some sort of "silver bullet" that would be sure to take Obama down. Why they think this amazes me. Hillary threw all of this and the kitchen sink at Obama. We've heard it. Wright did his damage months ago. Were the Republicans not paying attention? The fight with Hillary also resulted in the massive ground operation that Obama has in several states that a Democrat wouldn't normally contest. Thanks to Hillary, he has offices open and an army of experienced organizers and volunteers in places like North Carolina, Indiana, Virginia, Montana. Even places he lost to her like Pennsylvania are showing the benefits of that operation. CW at the time was that the bitterness of the Dem fight might actually cause Obama and Clinton to knock each other out (I remember a cartoon depicting the two of them as two bilious hares not noticing a McCain tortoise crossing the finish line). If Obama's ground game gets him over the top in some of these states, that bruising fight may turn out to be the best gift Hillary has given Barack.
- It was stunning to see how the candidates I disliked the most fell so quickly. In 2000 the one person running on either side who I least wanted to be President got the job, George W. Bush. In 2008 the two people who I least liked were Giuliani and Romney. Super Tuesday did them both in. The speed of Rudy's fall was actually quite remarkable. Meanwhile the two people who I most liked on the either side, Obama and McCain made it. I have a great deal of respect for Hillary, and I get a real kick out of Huckabee, but my two favorites on each side made it to the top. In that sense I can't lose tomorrow.
- Many things which would usually be gamechangers were not. The debates for example were a complete wash. I actually thought McCain won them, at least the first and last. Obama always held his own, but McCain did quite well, I thought. But it didn't matter, they were equally matched and the viewing public saw it. It was fascinating to watch the dial testers, though I'm not sure how I feel about them. They are addicting, but also distracting and manipulative, and potentially unrepresentative. But they were too interesting to ignore.
- Personally I think the media coverage has also been a wash. Yes, they were certainly enamored with Obama at the start. But they helped to drive several negative stories about him in the ensuing months, like Wright, his failing with blue-collar folks in Appalachia, his slip-ups like Bittergate. To say the "MSM" is "in the tank" is absurd (except perhaps for MSNBC and Fox, but those depend on which programs you watch). One of the great ironies is that the media has taken so much flak for "being easy on Obama" precisely at the moment it was pushing stories like "Why can't Obama close the deal?" and "The Wright Factor" and such. Yes, McCain has taken a lot of pounding in recent days, but much of that has been driven by his own behavior, shutting out reporters he used to pal around with, launching unnecessarily mean-spirited ads, etc... I really don't think the media has a "liberal bias" as much as it has a "media bias". Reporters want to be read, want to be seen, want to be talked about. They want their newspapers bought, they want their shows advertised on. In short, they want ratings. What draws people are good stories, controversial stories, stories that are fun to watch. If Obama's eloquent speeches get people to watch, they'll play 'em. If digging into Palin's past in Wasilla sells papers, they'll do it. But that's just my opinion. It depends on whom you read and watch. Olbermann is over the top liberal. O'Reilly over the top conservative. I must admit I have cheered the rapid rise of Rachel Maddow. She seems sensible, only has one guest on at a time (this is a real plus for me --- if I have to spend one more minute watching "panels" of pundits screaming over each other I'm going to scream myself), she respects the opinions of people who disagree like Pat Buchanan, and she's a hometown girl from Castro Valley, California (very near where I grew up).
- Biden is a gadfly who I wish would muzzle it. He is personable, experienced, connects with blue-collar folks, has excellent foreign policy experience, and I really wish Obama had picked someone else. He is perfectly qualified for the job, and for the presidency, should (God forbid) that need ever arise. But I shudder to think of how many times he will embarrass Obama in the years to come should they win.
- Palin is vibrant, interesting, incredibly likable, and almost totally unqualified for the job. Her answers to even simple questions have been painful. She has good executive experience though her tenure in Alaska seems to be a mixed bag. She has a reformer's record but has been needlessly careless about things like firings and per diems. She seems to know next to nothing about foreign affairs or domestic policy beyond the talking points she's been fed. She is bold and confident, but not very thoughtful (as opposed to Obama, who is often halting and cerebral, but clearly knowledgeable). It is almost inconceivable to me that she could handle the job of President should (God forbid) that need arise, at least not right now. I started off liking her a great deal (see my first post about VP possibilities), but I think this process has harmed her.
- It has been sad for me to watch what I believe to be a disintegration of McCain's integrity. He stood there saying "Country First" and "Experience Counts" then he chose Sarah Palin. He promised clean campaigning, then ran guilt-by-association ad hominem attack ads. He promised straight talk, then told lies about Obama's tax plan (no, Senator, he's not going to raise "my taxes", I'm not that rich thank you very much). They have both been guilty of distortion (Obama has disappointed me greatly with his social security and "100 years in Iraq" attacks), but Obama never made it personal. Rather than sticking to the issues, McCain went for Ayers, Rezko, and Khalidi. For a man who can rightly boast of a long record of bi-partisan work, McCain has resorted to name calling..."socialist", "palling around with terrorists", and a scary intonation of the word "liberal" (the "liberal" positions Lieberman holds on a host of issues apparently not concerning him). A man who worked with the likes of Russ Feingold, he now describes Pelosi and Reid as some sort of diabolical duo. He condemned hateful robo-calls in 2000, now he's running them himself. The Straight Talk express has been slipping away for months now, as he has transformed himself increasingly into the kind of partisan hack I have always loathed. Where is the straight-talker of 2000? Well the conservatives point out that he lost in 2000. To paraphrase one of McCain's finest phrases, I'd rather lose an election than lose my integrity.
- Obama's problem is not Ayers or Wright or Rezko, it is Chicago itself. The clean fact of the matter is that Chicago embraces characters that other places would consider unsavory. Despite his past, Bill Ayers was accepted by respectable Chicago society. He became a respected college professor and served on the board of a world-reknowned educational foundation founded by Republicans. For all his "scary" black liberation theology, Wright was a respected pastor of a well known church. Rezko, Khalidi, it's all the same. These were respectable people in Chicago. Obama had no reason to doubt that. He did not seek these people out because they had like-minded radical ideas. He took Chicago as it came. To condemn Obama is to condemn the whole of Chicago. McCain has been content to do just that. Republicans have never had a problem writing off huge swaths of the American landscape (the "Country" that comes "First" clearly does not include San Francisco...the entire state of Massachusetts...or anything in New York north of Wall Street and Ground Zero...but Wasilla? You betcha).
- The fringe claims about Obama are internally contradictory. Supposedly the most troubling things about him are that he is a Muslim and that he shares the anti-American rantings of Rev. Wright. So...which is it? If he's a Muslim he doesn't share Wright's views. If he shares Wright's views than he is a black liberation theology Christian. You really can't have it both ways. I read an item today claiming he is not a U.S. citizen because he was born in Kenya. He is not a U.S. citizen because he is Indonesian. So...which is it, is he Kenyan or Indonesian?
- All of which is to say that I have been wrong about Obama. Four years ago I watched him speak at the Democratic Convention and I had tears in my eyes. Here was someone who could inspire, who could bring us together and make us proud again. Part of the reason I supported him over Hillary is that half the country hates Mrs. Clinton. She stirred partisan tensions while Obama was the one to unite us. Well, I was wrong, and I think the Democrats who hoped this would be true were wrong. I should have known that the conservatives would end up hating Obama just as much as any Democrat.
I don't know about you, but I am about ready for this to be over. We'll have to see what tomorrow brings.
Now here we are, (barring some recount fiasco) one rotation of the Earth away from Decision 2008. Random thoughts on the whirlwind this has been:
- It will be historic either way, an African-American President or a woman Vice-President. What this says about our country is incredibly heartening.
- The bitter primary probably helped Obama more than anyone thought. The Right has been complaining that McCain didn't bring up Rev. Wright or Tony Rezko, who have been described as some sort of "silver bullet" that would be sure to take Obama down. Why they think this amazes me. Hillary threw all of this and the kitchen sink at Obama. We've heard it. Wright did his damage months ago. Were the Republicans not paying attention? The fight with Hillary also resulted in the massive ground operation that Obama has in several states that a Democrat wouldn't normally contest. Thanks to Hillary, he has offices open and an army of experienced organizers and volunteers in places like North Carolina, Indiana, Virginia, Montana. Even places he lost to her like Pennsylvania are showing the benefits of that operation. CW at the time was that the bitterness of the Dem fight might actually cause Obama and Clinton to knock each other out (I remember a cartoon depicting the two of them as two bilious hares not noticing a McCain tortoise crossing the finish line). If Obama's ground game gets him over the top in some of these states, that bruising fight may turn out to be the best gift Hillary has given Barack.
- It was stunning to see how the candidates I disliked the most fell so quickly. In 2000 the one person running on either side who I least wanted to be President got the job, George W. Bush. In 2008 the two people who I least liked were Giuliani and Romney. Super Tuesday did them both in. The speed of Rudy's fall was actually quite remarkable. Meanwhile the two people who I most liked on the either side, Obama and McCain made it. I have a great deal of respect for Hillary, and I get a real kick out of Huckabee, but my two favorites on each side made it to the top. In that sense I can't lose tomorrow.
- Many things which would usually be gamechangers were not. The debates for example were a complete wash. I actually thought McCain won them, at least the first and last. Obama always held his own, but McCain did quite well, I thought. But it didn't matter, they were equally matched and the viewing public saw it. It was fascinating to watch the dial testers, though I'm not sure how I feel about them. They are addicting, but also distracting and manipulative, and potentially unrepresentative. But they were too interesting to ignore.
- Personally I think the media coverage has also been a wash. Yes, they were certainly enamored with Obama at the start. But they helped to drive several negative stories about him in the ensuing months, like Wright, his failing with blue-collar folks in Appalachia, his slip-ups like Bittergate. To say the "MSM" is "in the tank" is absurd (except perhaps for MSNBC and Fox, but those depend on which programs you watch). One of the great ironies is that the media has taken so much flak for "being easy on Obama" precisely at the moment it was pushing stories like "Why can't Obama close the deal?" and "The Wright Factor" and such. Yes, McCain has taken a lot of pounding in recent days, but much of that has been driven by his own behavior, shutting out reporters he used to pal around with, launching unnecessarily mean-spirited ads, etc... I really don't think the media has a "liberal bias" as much as it has a "media bias". Reporters want to be read, want to be seen, want to be talked about. They want their newspapers bought, they want their shows advertised on. In short, they want ratings. What draws people are good stories, controversial stories, stories that are fun to watch. If Obama's eloquent speeches get people to watch, they'll play 'em. If digging into Palin's past in Wasilla sells papers, they'll do it. But that's just my opinion. It depends on whom you read and watch. Olbermann is over the top liberal. O'Reilly over the top conservative. I must admit I have cheered the rapid rise of Rachel Maddow. She seems sensible, only has one guest on at a time (this is a real plus for me --- if I have to spend one more minute watching "panels" of pundits screaming over each other I'm going to scream myself), she respects the opinions of people who disagree like Pat Buchanan, and she's a hometown girl from Castro Valley, California (very near where I grew up).
- Biden is a gadfly who I wish would muzzle it. He is personable, experienced, connects with blue-collar folks, has excellent foreign policy experience, and I really wish Obama had picked someone else. He is perfectly qualified for the job, and for the presidency, should (God forbid) that need ever arise. But I shudder to think of how many times he will embarrass Obama in the years to come should they win.
- Palin is vibrant, interesting, incredibly likable, and almost totally unqualified for the job. Her answers to even simple questions have been painful. She has good executive experience though her tenure in Alaska seems to be a mixed bag. She has a reformer's record but has been needlessly careless about things like firings and per diems. She seems to know next to nothing about foreign affairs or domestic policy beyond the talking points she's been fed. She is bold and confident, but not very thoughtful (as opposed to Obama, who is often halting and cerebral, but clearly knowledgeable). It is almost inconceivable to me that she could handle the job of President should (God forbid) that need arise, at least not right now. I started off liking her a great deal (see my first post about VP possibilities), but I think this process has harmed her.
- It has been sad for me to watch what I believe to be a disintegration of McCain's integrity. He stood there saying "Country First" and "Experience Counts" then he chose Sarah Palin. He promised clean campaigning, then ran guilt-by-association ad hominem attack ads. He promised straight talk, then told lies about Obama's tax plan (no, Senator, he's not going to raise "my taxes", I'm not that rich thank you very much). They have both been guilty of distortion (Obama has disappointed me greatly with his social security and "100 years in Iraq" attacks), but Obama never made it personal. Rather than sticking to the issues, McCain went for Ayers, Rezko, and Khalidi. For a man who can rightly boast of a long record of bi-partisan work, McCain has resorted to name calling..."socialist", "palling around with terrorists", and a scary intonation of the word "liberal" (the "liberal" positions Lieberman holds on a host of issues apparently not concerning him). A man who worked with the likes of Russ Feingold, he now describes Pelosi and Reid as some sort of diabolical duo. He condemned hateful robo-calls in 2000, now he's running them himself. The Straight Talk express has been slipping away for months now, as he has transformed himself increasingly into the kind of partisan hack I have always loathed. Where is the straight-talker of 2000? Well the conservatives point out that he lost in 2000. To paraphrase one of McCain's finest phrases, I'd rather lose an election than lose my integrity.
- Obama's problem is not Ayers or Wright or Rezko, it is Chicago itself. The clean fact of the matter is that Chicago embraces characters that other places would consider unsavory. Despite his past, Bill Ayers was accepted by respectable Chicago society. He became a respected college professor and served on the board of a world-reknowned educational foundation founded by Republicans. For all his "scary" black liberation theology, Wright was a respected pastor of a well known church. Rezko, Khalidi, it's all the same. These were respectable people in Chicago. Obama had no reason to doubt that. He did not seek these people out because they had like-minded radical ideas. He took Chicago as it came. To condemn Obama is to condemn the whole of Chicago. McCain has been content to do just that. Republicans have never had a problem writing off huge swaths of the American landscape (the "Country" that comes "First" clearly does not include San Francisco...the entire state of Massachusetts...or anything in New York north of Wall Street and Ground Zero...but Wasilla? You betcha).
- The fringe claims about Obama are internally contradictory. Supposedly the most troubling things about him are that he is a Muslim and that he shares the anti-American rantings of Rev. Wright. So...which is it? If he's a Muslim he doesn't share Wright's views. If he shares Wright's views than he is a black liberation theology Christian. You really can't have it both ways. I read an item today claiming he is not a U.S. citizen because he was born in Kenya. He is not a U.S. citizen because he is Indonesian. So...which is it, is he Kenyan or Indonesian?
- All of which is to say that I have been wrong about Obama. Four years ago I watched him speak at the Democratic Convention and I had tears in my eyes. Here was someone who could inspire, who could bring us together and make us proud again. Part of the reason I supported him over Hillary is that half the country hates Mrs. Clinton. She stirred partisan tensions while Obama was the one to unite us. Well, I was wrong, and I think the Democrats who hoped this would be true were wrong. I should have known that the conservatives would end up hating Obama just as much as any Democrat.
I don't know about you, but I am about ready for this to be over. We'll have to see what tomorrow brings.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
The Summer of the Thousand Fires
All across rural Northern California folks are breathing a bit easier today. As I write heavy rain falls, with God's help putting an end to what for many was a truly disastrous summer. At various points in time hundreds of fires raged across our land, from Trinity County to Butte, from Napa to Mariposa, and just beyond the edge of my world...in Big Sur, the San Fernando Valley, southern Oregon, Washington, and Idaho. There was so much smoke it darkened the sky. For a month or more in June and July the sun burned blood red and shades of orange that make me shudder to think of them. Entire towns fled. Roads closed. Homes burned. At times our state felt like a war zone. I remember seeing small fleets of helicopters racing north, convoys of firetrucks from as far away as Arizona (I even dimly recollect seeing one from El Paso!) streaming through our towns, off duty firemen crowding markets and restaurants. The citizens often waved to them like troops going off to war, which in many ways they were.
Smoke and ash filled the air. Some of us developed breathing problems we had never had before. And for asthmatics and others it was murder. I myself was fine for quite some time before succumbing to the coughs. It was if the soot had gradually built up in my mouth and lungs and trachea, like a film no mouthwash could extinguish. This summer made smokers of us all.
And the source of all was the very geography that we love so. It is such an odd thing, that the beauty around us can be such a peril. The very warm dry weather we love the West for can become our very doom. Our lovely forests are a tinderbox, our rich chapparal and grasslands a powderkeg. At the height of the danger, and occasionally even still, we all eyed our surroundings with caution and dread. I more than once looked out at the grassy fields behind our house with unease. That which is usually a delight this summer was a source of alarm.
Yet we should be surprised not at all. Ours is a dry climate. Ours a world that in natural course is nourished by fire. The forests will regrow. And those Chico buttes will be covered in wildflowers the likes of which we've never seen. But it will still be dry, and the danger will ever be there. One of the great ironies of the West is that a land so expansive and inviting is really so ill suited to support any great population. Even now drought has drained our lakes, lowered our rivers, and raised our water bills. That is, if it is a drought at all. Here in the West there is no reason to believe that wet is normal and dry is not. If anything it is the wet years that are strange. But we are just not conditioned to think that way. Our ancestors arrived during good years. The mid-19th century was particularly wet and lush, from the Pacific to the Great Plains. All those sodbusters in Oklahoma, ranchers in Montana, gold-miners and settlers in California had every reason to think it was normal, they had never known everything else, at least not here in their newfound home. If anything the dustbowl was the harsh reality...the bounty of the West comes with a price.
But there is something deeper, something more profound at work. For some reason or another we humans always expect geography to be stable. We expect that lake to always be there, that hill to always be in place, that mountain to remain unmoved, that river to keep its banks, those trees to stand tall there forever. And we build our towns and spread out our homesteads by those rivers and on those hills and amid those trees. But geography is never stable. Even the barest most boring desert is not stable. The earth itself moves, the faults shift, the weather changes, the hills slide, the rivers flood, the lakes dry, the trees die and burn. Sadly enough, we often blame God for this, for our inability to see that life changes, that the earth itself shifts under our feet, that all creation pulses with life and that the only stable thing in it is the love of God.
So now the rain falls. The Summer of the Thousand Fires comes to an end. Our land soaks it in, our trees and grasses drink it up, our reservoirs begin to refill. We all sigh with relief...and hope it lasts.
Smoke and ash filled the air. Some of us developed breathing problems we had never had before. And for asthmatics and others it was murder. I myself was fine for quite some time before succumbing to the coughs. It was if the soot had gradually built up in my mouth and lungs and trachea, like a film no mouthwash could extinguish. This summer made smokers of us all.
The buttes of Chico and the forests of the north coast are still scarred by them. Some people bear scars that will not soon heal. At least one friend of our family lost his home. He evacuated just in time, as the flames advanced on his mobile home in the hills above Oroville. He was just far enough away to hear his propane tank explode, completing the ruin of everything he had.
And the source of all was the very geography that we love so. It is such an odd thing, that the beauty around us can be such a peril. The very warm dry weather we love the West for can become our very doom. Our lovely forests are a tinderbox, our rich chapparal and grasslands a powderkeg. At the height of the danger, and occasionally even still, we all eyed our surroundings with caution and dread. I more than once looked out at the grassy fields behind our house with unease. That which is usually a delight this summer was a source of alarm.
Yet we should be surprised not at all. Ours is a dry climate. Ours a world that in natural course is nourished by fire. The forests will regrow. And those Chico buttes will be covered in wildflowers the likes of which we've never seen. But it will still be dry, and the danger will ever be there. One of the great ironies of the West is that a land so expansive and inviting is really so ill suited to support any great population. Even now drought has drained our lakes, lowered our rivers, and raised our water bills. That is, if it is a drought at all. Here in the West there is no reason to believe that wet is normal and dry is not. If anything it is the wet years that are strange. But we are just not conditioned to think that way. Our ancestors arrived during good years. The mid-19th century was particularly wet and lush, from the Pacific to the Great Plains. All those sodbusters in Oklahoma, ranchers in Montana, gold-miners and settlers in California had every reason to think it was normal, they had never known everything else, at least not here in their newfound home. If anything the dustbowl was the harsh reality...the bounty of the West comes with a price.
But there is something deeper, something more profound at work. For some reason or another we humans always expect geography to be stable. We expect that lake to always be there, that hill to always be in place, that mountain to remain unmoved, that river to keep its banks, those trees to stand tall there forever. And we build our towns and spread out our homesteads by those rivers and on those hills and amid those trees. But geography is never stable. Even the barest most boring desert is not stable. The earth itself moves, the faults shift, the weather changes, the hills slide, the rivers flood, the lakes dry, the trees die and burn. Sadly enough, we often blame God for this, for our inability to see that life changes, that the earth itself shifts under our feet, that all creation pulses with life and that the only stable thing in it is the love of God.
So now the rain falls. The Summer of the Thousand Fires comes to an end. Our land soaks it in, our trees and grasses drink it up, our reservoirs begin to refill. We all sigh with relief...and hope it lasts.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
The Criticism that was a Compliment.
I was taken to task last week by one of my readers (she knows who she is) for not writing in some time. The question was raised whether I only write when I am sick, and questioning, as I did in my first post, whether the Alta Californian had simply not outlived its founding cause (that nasty case of bronchitis). I have no easy answer for this.
Life has been interesting in the last month. I have found myself quite busy, at work, at home, at church, and to a certain extent in my personal life. In theory that would give me lots of material to write about. And in some way it has. In some ways it has given me too much to write about. Each post could end up a tome, and I really have no time or interest in that (and I doubt anyone else would either). But that should be no excuse. So I will issue my mea culpa now, but I also can make no promises. Most bloggers I know have eventually fallen off after a burst of initial zeal. Many have eventually come back, many have not. Nearly all have promised they would. The easiest way to not break promises is to not make them. So...there.
But I must admit, the knowledge that someone found my blog interesting enough to chastise me for not posting to it is rather cheering. Especially when it is from someone I didn't realize was reading in the first place. (Merci, madam).
Life has been interesting in the last month. I have found myself quite busy, at work, at home, at church, and to a certain extent in my personal life. In theory that would give me lots of material to write about. And in some way it has. In some ways it has given me too much to write about. Each post could end up a tome, and I really have no time or interest in that (and I doubt anyone else would either). But that should be no excuse. So I will issue my mea culpa now, but I also can make no promises. Most bloggers I know have eventually fallen off after a burst of initial zeal. Many have eventually come back, many have not. Nearly all have promised they would. The easiest way to not break promises is to not make them. So...there.
But I must admit, the knowledge that someone found my blog interesting enough to chastise me for not posting to it is rather cheering. Especially when it is from someone I didn't realize was reading in the first place. (Merci, madam).
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Thoughts on the Conventions
I promised some thoughts on the Conventions, but now that time has elapsed and the outcome is a bit clearer it doesn't seem as relevant. Nevertheless a few things that stick out in my mind a week and a half later:
1. The DNC had a lot of good speeches but lacked a major theme. The slogan supposedly changed each day, with daily themes so forgettable I cannot remember them now. The RNC was much more effective in this regard, staying with the "Country First" theme throughout, and driving it home at every opportunity.
1. The DNC had a lot of good speeches but lacked a major theme. The slogan supposedly changed each day, with daily themes so forgettable I cannot remember them now. The RNC was much more effective in this regard, staying with the "Country First" theme throughout, and driving it home at every opportunity.
2. The DNC had a lot of good speeches, and some not so good.
Michelle Obama was a hit and showed someone we should be proud to have as a First Lady.
Hillary's was a particularly thorough and rousing endorsement.
Bill Clinton gave a speech which reminded many of us why we elected him twice.
Comparatively minor functionaries like Sen. Casey and Gov. Schweitzer positively beamed.
While hyped speakers like Gov. Mark Warner fell somewhat flat.
Biden needs some serious work. His was, I think, the weakest speech of the fortnight.
Obama sizzled but did not soar, which was probably on purpose. I sat there expecting to cry as I did four years ago. Instead I was sober and resolved. Sober is no fun, but then one can get a lot more done when sober (or so I'm told, I'm a tea-totaller mostly).
3. Gustav was actually a blessing for the RNC. It forced them to pare down, refocus, and re-concentrate their efforts. The result was a more compact and focused convention. Worries that the hurricane would remind everyone of the Katrina blunder mostly were mostly unfounded. The storm was not as bad as Katrina, not as bad as predicted, and the government response was much better. Rather than footage of the Superdome fiasco, the country watched footage of busses lined up to take folks out of New Orleans, of National Guard on the streets, and of levies that held. And FEMA seemed to do a better job there than they seem to be doing now with Ike (mind you Ike turned out to be a much worse storm). The shift in focus also proved good for the Republicans. Rather than four rambling days of "He's not ready to lead" which would have seemed ironic coming out of Gov. Palin, they got three concentrated days of "Maverick Hero Reformers".
4. Obama got a few practical things out of his convention. He did get a modest bounce in the polls, but that was shortlived. Longer-term gains include the firm and final support of the Clintons and many of their allies. Despite Republican jabs about Mile High stadium, and rather petty ribbing about the kind of "temple" Bush and McCain have appeared in front of time and time again (Can you say "hypocrisy" children?), Obama also got the names of a couple of thousand supporters in Colorado. If Colorado turns out to be the state that puts Obama over, as it easily could be, that stadium decision may have turned out to have been the smartest move of the campaign.
5. McCain got much more out of his convention. He got a huge bounce which has not entirely subsided yet. He also got his base incredibly fired up on Palin. Time will tell if this remains. The bounce is beginning to settle. And it is not entirely clear the effect Palin will have on independents. For the moment it is a resounding success which may make the difference.
6. Going second is better. I don't know if Dean flipped Mehlman for it or how these things are decided, but the Dems have not had good luck going first (at least they didn't four years ago).
7. The media in the country is a shambles if not a sham. I found myself flipping back and forth between CSPAN, the cable networks (CNN, MSNBC, FOX), and in primetime the local broadcast networks. I utterly and completely preferred CSPAN, straight coverage with no commentary. The local networks showed almost nothing but the key speech of the night, bookended by local news and light commentary and brief clips of the day's speeches. The cable network reporting was a farce. The pundits and talking heads have been yaking away 24/7 for months, usually with nothing new to say. It's the same talking points over and over. So do they drop that and cover the convention? No, they talk on and on with the same exact stuff we've heard for weeks. The key point for me was Day 1 in Denver. Sen. Claire McCaskill gave what I thought was a rousing and effective speech, much of it attacking McCain. At that precise moment on CNN, Anderson Cooper and David Gergen and their compatriots were debating whether the Democrats had wasted their first day. Now I actually like Gergen, but at that moment he was arguing that the Democrats were completely blowing the opportunity by not criticising McCain. At that exact moment over his shoulder in the background, McCaskill was doing precisely that. Again and again throughout the fortnight, I found myself screaming "shut-up" at the TV and switching to CSPAN.
So that's it. It's going to be a barn-burner.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Thoughts on 9/11, 7 years later
When I think of that day I think of how easily it could have been me. They chose a United flight from Newark to San Francisco. If four days earlier they had chosen a Continental flight from Newark to Oakland it would have been me. I don't know if I would have been as brave as the heroes of United 93.
I also think of my late grandfather, who was the most calming voice that day. I was visiting him and my grandmother that morning. Aunts and uncles were panicked, Grandma was beside herself. But Grandpa, a man who had lived through the Depression, remembered December 7, 1941, nearly lost his feet to frostbite during the Battle of the Bulge and landed on Okinawa after the main invasion, he sat back and throughout the day coolly repeated a verse from Ecclesiastes: "There's nothing new under the sun". He had been through it all before, seen the horrors of hate and war, knew the resilience and resolve of the American people, and counted in all things on the justice and mercy of the Lord. He has since passed, but I was so blessed to be with him that day.
That Sunday, at my father's suggestion, we sang a hymn I have held close ever since (Hymn 573):
Father eternal, Ruler of creation,
Spirit of life, which moved ere form was made,
through the thick darkness covering every nation,
light to our blindness, O be thou our aid:
thy kingdom come,
O Lord,thy will be done.
Races and peoples, lo, we stand divided,
and, sharing not our griefs, no joy can share;
by wars and tumults love is mocked, derided;
his saving cross no nation yet will bear:
thy kingdom come,
O Lord,thy will be done.
Envious of heart, blind-eyed, with tongues confounded,
nation by nation still goes unforgiven,
in wrath and fear, by jealousies surrounded,
building proud towers which shall not reach to heaven:
thy kingdom come,
O Lord,thy will be done.
Lust of possession worketh desolations;
there is no meekness in the powers of earth;
led by no star, the rulers of the nations
still fail to bring us to the blissful birth:
thy kingdom come,
O Lord,thy will be done.
How shall we love thee, holy hidden Being,
if we love not the world which thou hast made?
Bind us in thine own love for better seeing
thy Word made flesh, and in a manger laid:
thy kingdom come,
O Lord,thy will be done.
Laurence Housman (1865-1959)
I also think of my late grandfather, who was the most calming voice that day. I was visiting him and my grandmother that morning. Aunts and uncles were panicked, Grandma was beside herself. But Grandpa, a man who had lived through the Depression, remembered December 7, 1941, nearly lost his feet to frostbite during the Battle of the Bulge and landed on Okinawa after the main invasion, he sat back and throughout the day coolly repeated a verse from Ecclesiastes: "There's nothing new under the sun". He had been through it all before, seen the horrors of hate and war, knew the resilience and resolve of the American people, and counted in all things on the justice and mercy of the Lord. He has since passed, but I was so blessed to be with him that day.
That Sunday, at my father's suggestion, we sang a hymn I have held close ever since (Hymn 573):
Father eternal, Ruler of creation,
Spirit of life, which moved ere form was made,
through the thick darkness covering every nation,
light to our blindness, O be thou our aid:
thy kingdom come,
O Lord,thy will be done.
Races and peoples, lo, we stand divided,
and, sharing not our griefs, no joy can share;
by wars and tumults love is mocked, derided;
his saving cross no nation yet will bear:
thy kingdom come,
O Lord,thy will be done.
Envious of heart, blind-eyed, with tongues confounded,
nation by nation still goes unforgiven,
in wrath and fear, by jealousies surrounded,
building proud towers which shall not reach to heaven:
thy kingdom come,
O Lord,thy will be done.
Lust of possession worketh desolations;
there is no meekness in the powers of earth;
led by no star, the rulers of the nations
still fail to bring us to the blissful birth:
thy kingdom come,
O Lord,thy will be done.
How shall we love thee, holy hidden Being,
if we love not the world which thou hast made?
Bind us in thine own love for better seeing
thy Word made flesh, and in a manger laid:
thy kingdom come,
O Lord,thy will be done.
Laurence Housman (1865-1959)
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Veepstakes
With Obama set to announce at any moment, VP speculation is rampant. I certainly don't know who either of them will pick, but I do have my preferences. I'll admit some of those preferences are rational and some are not.
On Obama's side, I would certainly be heartened with a pro-life pick. For a party that has put NARAL front and center and rubbished good folks like the senior Mr. Casey, any lean in a more moral direction would be significant to me. At the moment only Gov. Kaine fits that description, however imperfectly. He doesn't have much experience, but I'd almost be willing to overlook that. Even slighter pro-life leanings can be found in Sen. Bayh, like myself a blue-dog, and Sen. Biden. Bayh strikes me as a rather safe, uninteresting fellow. His record is not perfect, but I don't think he'd do much harm. Biden is more problematic. He's a goodly fellow, with one of the best records on foreign policy, but he seems to suffer from perennial foot-in-mouth disease. And he has a long legislative record to plumb and attack. Gov. Sebellius has a good bi-partisan record, in a conservative state no less. But her recent pro-choice moves have really hit me the wrong way. And do we really need another liberal Catholic out there for the conservative bishops to deny communion to? (Do we, Sen. Biden?) Besides, in her stump speeches for Obama she has struck me to be about as interesting as stale wonder bread.
Then of course there's Hillary. I would have been seriously disappointed with this pick a month ago. I've long felt that this country needs to move beyond the partisan bickering and sexual indiscretions of the 90s, if that's even possible. Half the country, after all, hates her guts. But as the campaign has gotten nastier (just look at today), it has begun to look more and more like her milieu. She's got blue-collar, blue-dog credentials, a modicum of experience, and she's a fighter. Right now those are all looking like things Barack needs. She's got enough baggage to fill a container ship, and I'm already not looking forward to all the clips the right will run of her sliming Obama (which they'll undoubtedly run whether she's the running mate or not), but the country knows her and even the right respects her.
Personally, I'm still hoping it will somehow be a shocker, like the junior Casey or Hagel. And my biggest dream of all, Colin Powell. The only problem with him is that he should be at the top of the ticket. But he's never really wanted the job. Which is why he has always been perfect for it, a true Cincinnatus. As I like to say - Always give the Ring to Hobbits. Only give power to those who don't really want it. For the moment, it's Kaine and Bayh who are looking the most hobbitish.
On McCain's side it's much easier. I'm not sure I like any of them. I will be really disappointed if he picks someone like Romney, who I think is a shiftless, partisan hack. Though Giuliani's stock has risen with me in recent days, how could I abide a pro-choice Republican. That's like my worst nightmare. Mr. "a Noun, a Verb, and 9/11" just won't do. Joe Lieberman is certainly with me on many issues, but something distresses me about his fixation on the war. Even conservative commentators are saying why would we support a VP nominee who agrees with us on only one thing, the war. I certainly appreciate the long friendship he has had with McCain, a fellow maverick if you will. But it seems like he is willing to betray his entire party just over a difference on Iraq, the only major thing he agrees with the Republicans on. Perhaps that's true bi-partisanship, true character, but I just don't know. I really don't know enough about some of the others like Pawlenty and Jindal. They seem rather untested, and would diminish McCain's arguments about Obama's inexperience. At this point McCain is going to have to really impress me. A good, reforming maverick like Palin or a grand old statesman like Lugar would go a long way. (And so far the only speculation about Lugar has been for Obama). And then of course there's the Huckster. I actually like Huckabee a great deal. His folksy charm, aversion to mudslinging, and authentic faithfulness are really quite winsome. His policies in Arkansas were a mixed bag, but I don't think I would be disappointed. Of course, I don't think he has a snowball's chance in Arizona.
It's all going to be interesting. Maybe we'll all be surprised.
On Obama's side, I would certainly be heartened with a pro-life pick. For a party that has put NARAL front and center and rubbished good folks like the senior Mr. Casey, any lean in a more moral direction would be significant to me. At the moment only Gov. Kaine fits that description, however imperfectly. He doesn't have much experience, but I'd almost be willing to overlook that. Even slighter pro-life leanings can be found in Sen. Bayh, like myself a blue-dog, and Sen. Biden. Bayh strikes me as a rather safe, uninteresting fellow. His record is not perfect, but I don't think he'd do much harm. Biden is more problematic. He's a goodly fellow, with one of the best records on foreign policy, but he seems to suffer from perennial foot-in-mouth disease. And he has a long legislative record to plumb and attack. Gov. Sebellius has a good bi-partisan record, in a conservative state no less. But her recent pro-choice moves have really hit me the wrong way. And do we really need another liberal Catholic out there for the conservative bishops to deny communion to? (Do we, Sen. Biden?) Besides, in her stump speeches for Obama she has struck me to be about as interesting as stale wonder bread.
Then of course there's Hillary. I would have been seriously disappointed with this pick a month ago. I've long felt that this country needs to move beyond the partisan bickering and sexual indiscretions of the 90s, if that's even possible. Half the country, after all, hates her guts. But as the campaign has gotten nastier (just look at today), it has begun to look more and more like her milieu. She's got blue-collar, blue-dog credentials, a modicum of experience, and she's a fighter. Right now those are all looking like things Barack needs. She's got enough baggage to fill a container ship, and I'm already not looking forward to all the clips the right will run of her sliming Obama (which they'll undoubtedly run whether she's the running mate or not), but the country knows her and even the right respects her.
Personally, I'm still hoping it will somehow be a shocker, like the junior Casey or Hagel. And my biggest dream of all, Colin Powell. The only problem with him is that he should be at the top of the ticket. But he's never really wanted the job. Which is why he has always been perfect for it, a true Cincinnatus. As I like to say - Always give the Ring to Hobbits. Only give power to those who don't really want it. For the moment, it's Kaine and Bayh who are looking the most hobbitish.
On McCain's side it's much easier. I'm not sure I like any of them. I will be really disappointed if he picks someone like Romney, who I think is a shiftless, partisan hack. Though Giuliani's stock has risen with me in recent days, how could I abide a pro-choice Republican. That's like my worst nightmare. Mr. "a Noun, a Verb, and 9/11" just won't do. Joe Lieberman is certainly with me on many issues, but something distresses me about his fixation on the war. Even conservative commentators are saying why would we support a VP nominee who agrees with us on only one thing, the war. I certainly appreciate the long friendship he has had with McCain, a fellow maverick if you will. But it seems like he is willing to betray his entire party just over a difference on Iraq, the only major thing he agrees with the Republicans on. Perhaps that's true bi-partisanship, true character, but I just don't know. I really don't know enough about some of the others like Pawlenty and Jindal. They seem rather untested, and would diminish McCain's arguments about Obama's inexperience. At this point McCain is going to have to really impress me. A good, reforming maverick like Palin or a grand old statesman like Lugar would go a long way. (And so far the only speculation about Lugar has been for Obama). And then of course there's the Huckster. I actually like Huckabee a great deal. His folksy charm, aversion to mudslinging, and authentic faithfulness are really quite winsome. His policies in Arkansas were a mixed bag, but I don't think I would be disappointed. Of course, I don't think he has a snowball's chance in Arizona.
It's all going to be interesting. Maybe we'll all be surprised.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Politics
I have tried writing about the election several times over the last week, but each time I am held back by the question of how much to disclose my own political leanings. It is a complicated question that I have tried to answer several times. I have wrestled heavily with the notions of objectivity and bias, with my own political history and that of my family, and with what my own political philosophy and policy positions actually are. Each time my writings descend into incoherence and finally end with the merciful application of the delete button. I think this is in part due to the fact that my political thinking is really all over the map.
I come from a long line of blue-collar, blue-dog, conservative Christian, FDR Democrats. Though I am less blue-collar than my grandparents were (my parents managed to bring us into the ranks of what Marx referred to as the petit-bourgeoisie), that description still fits in many ways. The problem is that conservative Christian FDR Democrats aren't supposed to exist any more, and I find myself increasingly isolated. I'm pro-life but think it's an incredibly difficult issue to legislate. I think organized labor has gone off the rails, but that unions are essentially good. I am an environmentalist, but I still love to drive my old clunker around the state, and I am concerned about undue burdens on property owners. I love the spotted owl; I also love things made out of redwood. I think that Communism was a massive failure, based on good intentions but fatally flawed. I think Capitalism has been a great success, but it tends to leave people out and promotes a culture of greed and self-interest. I am not convinced that supply side economics helps anyone but the most wealthy. I don't see why a sensible balance of free market and regulation can't work. I never knew what to think of the Iraq war, and frankly I don't now. I think it is an absolute scandal that bin Laden is at large seven years later, but I'm grateful we haven't been successfully attacked again. I think that the Democrats have too often maligned and misunderstood the Christian faith, but that the Republicans have too often thought they owned it and have co-opted it for their own purposes. I have never been fond of George. I am quite fond of Laura. I believe the U.S. is the greatest country in the world, but that we should celebrate it with honor and humility.
Some consider all of this schizophrenic. At least one of my mentors thinks I'm a conservative Republican in the making. But I think I'd never be more than a hated RINO. I don't think either party really has what I'm looking for. But in a two-party system being an "independent" doesn't make much sense to me. Sure it sends a message that party system is broken, which it certainly is, but I'd like to vote in the primaries and keep tabs on what the party of my forebears is up to. So for the moment I'm content to remain a hated Blue-Dog.
The irony as I write this is that it reminds me of the position I am in with the Episcopal Church. I don't like what has gone on in TEC, but I'm also suspicious of the Network in general and the secession movement in particular. So until my diocese goes totally overboard, or God calls me to another ecclesiastical body, I'm content to remain in Church of my forebears. And believe me, Anglican partisans think this is schizophrenia, too.
I come from a long line of blue-collar, blue-dog, conservative Christian, FDR Democrats. Though I am less blue-collar than my grandparents were (my parents managed to bring us into the ranks of what Marx referred to as the petit-bourgeoisie), that description still fits in many ways. The problem is that conservative Christian FDR Democrats aren't supposed to exist any more, and I find myself increasingly isolated. I'm pro-life but think it's an incredibly difficult issue to legislate. I think organized labor has gone off the rails, but that unions are essentially good. I am an environmentalist, but I still love to drive my old clunker around the state, and I am concerned about undue burdens on property owners. I love the spotted owl; I also love things made out of redwood. I think that Communism was a massive failure, based on good intentions but fatally flawed. I think Capitalism has been a great success, but it tends to leave people out and promotes a culture of greed and self-interest. I am not convinced that supply side economics helps anyone but the most wealthy. I don't see why a sensible balance of free market and regulation can't work. I never knew what to think of the Iraq war, and frankly I don't now. I think it is an absolute scandal that bin Laden is at large seven years later, but I'm grateful we haven't been successfully attacked again. I think that the Democrats have too often maligned and misunderstood the Christian faith, but that the Republicans have too often thought they owned it and have co-opted it for their own purposes. I have never been fond of George. I am quite fond of Laura. I believe the U.S. is the greatest country in the world, but that we should celebrate it with honor and humility.
Some consider all of this schizophrenic. At least one of my mentors thinks I'm a conservative Republican in the making. But I think I'd never be more than a hated RINO. I don't think either party really has what I'm looking for. But in a two-party system being an "independent" doesn't make much sense to me. Sure it sends a message that party system is broken, which it certainly is, but I'd like to vote in the primaries and keep tabs on what the party of my forebears is up to. So for the moment I'm content to remain a hated Blue-Dog.
The irony as I write this is that it reminds me of the position I am in with the Episcopal Church. I don't like what has gone on in TEC, but I'm also suspicious of the Network in general and the secession movement in particular. So until my diocese goes totally overboard, or God calls me to another ecclesiastical body, I'm content to remain in Church of my forebears. And believe me, Anglican partisans think this is schizophrenia, too.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Huzzah!
Day 17 seems to have been the last of it. I've been improving steadily for the last 3 days or so, but I was a bit nervous Sunday morning. In the end I had voice enough to sing and to read the intercessions. There is still an occasional rogue cough here and there, but it looks like I've got this thing licked. And this morning, which would have been Day 18, I could only imagine my little antibodies marching in grand review and parading the virus through the streets in chains, as joyous lung cells threw a ticker-tape parade . Salve victor!
Time will tell how long The Alta Californian survives its founding cause. I didn't sleep well last night, for an entirely different reason, so there you go.
Time will tell how long The Alta Californian survives its founding cause. I didn't sleep well last night, for an entirely different reason, so there you go.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Saddleback
Watched the live broadcast of the forum this afternoon. It was an interesting event. Senator McCain did much better than I thought he would. In many ways the questions were much better suited to his positions. The abortion, gay marriage, and faith-based initiative questions, for example were very simple for him to be able to answer. Overall he was open and straightforward, but he continues to lose me on most key issues. Senator Obama had a harder time of it, in my view. By the very nature of his political philosophy he was forced to offer more thoughtful, more nuanced answers on the very same questions, and often in a somewhat unsatisfactory manner. He seems to have a harder time with this format. So inspiring in prepared remarks on the stump, it is much more of a struggle him to formulate good responses on the fly, even when he has really good answers in mind.
It is not the conventional wisdom, but I think this will all give McCain the advantage in the debates. But we'll see, McCain's candor occasionally gets him in trouble, and some of his answers come off as politically artificial. For example, Pastor Warren's first question. The wisest people McCain knows are General Petraeus and Meg Whitman? How convenient. ("The military and big-business", my father muttered). For Obama it was his grandmother. How very human...and non-political. So we'll see.
I'll be posting more about the election in the coming days, in part just to flesh out my own thoughts on politics and the politics of this particular moment. As with other aspects of my life, my politics defy easy description. And at this hour, I don't even want to try.
I stand corrected. The CW emerging is that McCain did triumph at Saddleback, and that this is evidence that he just may rule the debates.
It is not the conventional wisdom, but I think this will all give McCain the advantage in the debates. But we'll see, McCain's candor occasionally gets him in trouble, and some of his answers come off as politically artificial. For example, Pastor Warren's first question. The wisest people McCain knows are General Petraeus and Meg Whitman? How convenient. ("The military and big-business", my father muttered). For Obama it was his grandmother. How very human...and non-political. So we'll see.
I'll be posting more about the election in the coming days, in part just to flesh out my own thoughts on politics and the politics of this particular moment. As with other aspects of my life, my politics defy easy description. And at this hour, I don't even want to try.
I stand corrected. The CW emerging is that McCain did triumph at Saddleback, and that this is evidence that he just may rule the debates.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
8
Looks like master Phelps has done it. What he has done has been remarkable, inspiring, and just plain fun to watch. Kudos to him, and to masters Peirsol, Hansen, and Lezak for sharing in it.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Holy Lip-Synching
Reading up on the Beijing lip-synching scandal, I was reminded that, once, long ago in middle school, I myself was once the voice behind the face.
I attended a conservative Lutheran school in the SF Bay Area (yes, there are Christian conservatives in the Bay Area, if you know where to find them), and every year the school would exhibit an "operetta", a musical production based on some biblical story or theme. I myself starred once, first as Moses, and later as the narrator for a version of the Book of Esther. But not before I was the back-up singer for one of my classmates. He was bright and a decent actor, but didn't have much of a voice. My best friend and I were called upon to sing his solo pieces. I honestly don't remember if he lip-synched it. There was no attempt to hide us per se, but we were positioned over in a corner, where only the back few rows of audience could see us. Back then, and even in retrospect now, it was kind of fun. And how could I say no to such a call....the story was Jonah. Besides, I later went to star, despite being an ugly duckling Episcopalian. I hope Lin Miaoke and Yang Peiyi are both able to look beyond the kerfuffle and enjoy it as much as I did.
Speaking of singing, I had an interesting experience in church last Sunday. Among the other casualties of this bronchitis has been my voice, both speaking and singing. (Things are finally beginning to improve on Day 14). I've been able to rasp along in conversation, but my singing voice was, and still is, almost completely gone. There's nothing I love quite so much as hymn singing, to join with God's people, in unity and harmony, lifting our praises to the Most High. So I thought it would be an agony to stand there in silence, so I opened the hymnal and whispered along. What happened was remarkable (So much so, it has taken me four days to process it). I'm so used to the resonance of my own voice as I sing. Without it, I was better able to enjoy the singing, and through it the heart of worship of the rest of the congregation. Yet by whispering, I was engaged in heart and mind with the content of the praises being sung. It was as if my 'still small voice' resonated with the 'still small voice' of the Lord (Since the Transfiguration, I've been reflecting on the life and ministry of Elijah - who saw that sometimes God comes not in the tempest, but in the whisper). The effect was a profound sense of the presence of the Holy Spirit in our worship, and of the joy and delight God takes even in our whispered praises.
I am still working this out in my mind, because there was even more there. I felt the sensation that through our worship we were being poured out as an oblation to God. As my friend Peregrinator has previously observed, in the Eucharist our offerings and oblations, imperfect as the offering of Cain, are taken by God and through the sacrifice of Jesus, become the true offering of Abel, for Christ is the New Abel, just as He is the New Adam. Our meager bread and wine become the Body of Christ, just as our meager selves become the Body of Christ. God took our offerings of praise, even my raspy, whispered praise, and joined it with the sacrifice of Christ to create a perfect act of praise and offering. I don't know if any of this makes sense. There is simply so much going on in the Eucharist, it overwhelms me sometimes.
I am often complimented for my singing voice (if I do say so myself), but I may whisper my hymns more often. I guess something good came from this pesky cold, after all.
I attended a conservative Lutheran school in the SF Bay Area (yes, there are Christian conservatives in the Bay Area, if you know where to find them), and every year the school would exhibit an "operetta", a musical production based on some biblical story or theme. I myself starred once, first as Moses, and later as the narrator for a version of the Book of Esther. But not before I was the back-up singer for one of my classmates. He was bright and a decent actor, but didn't have much of a voice. My best friend and I were called upon to sing his solo pieces. I honestly don't remember if he lip-synched it. There was no attempt to hide us per se, but we were positioned over in a corner, where only the back few rows of audience could see us. Back then, and even in retrospect now, it was kind of fun. And how could I say no to such a call....the story was Jonah. Besides, I later went to star, despite being an ugly duckling Episcopalian. I hope Lin Miaoke and Yang Peiyi are both able to look beyond the kerfuffle and enjoy it as much as I did.
Speaking of singing, I had an interesting experience in church last Sunday. Among the other casualties of this bronchitis has been my voice, both speaking and singing. (Things are finally beginning to improve on Day 14). I've been able to rasp along in conversation, but my singing voice was, and still is, almost completely gone. There's nothing I love quite so much as hymn singing, to join with God's people, in unity and harmony, lifting our praises to the Most High. So I thought it would be an agony to stand there in silence, so I opened the hymnal and whispered along. What happened was remarkable (So much so, it has taken me four days to process it). I'm so used to the resonance of my own voice as I sing. Without it, I was better able to enjoy the singing, and through it the heart of worship of the rest of the congregation. Yet by whispering, I was engaged in heart and mind with the content of the praises being sung. It was as if my 'still small voice' resonated with the 'still small voice' of the Lord (Since the Transfiguration, I've been reflecting on the life and ministry of Elijah - who saw that sometimes God comes not in the tempest, but in the whisper). The effect was a profound sense of the presence of the Holy Spirit in our worship, and of the joy and delight God takes even in our whispered praises.
I am still working this out in my mind, because there was even more there. I felt the sensation that through our worship we were being poured out as an oblation to God. As my friend Peregrinator has previously observed, in the Eucharist our offerings and oblations, imperfect as the offering of Cain, are taken by God and through the sacrifice of Jesus, become the true offering of Abel, for Christ is the New Abel, just as He is the New Adam. Our meager bread and wine become the Body of Christ, just as our meager selves become the Body of Christ. God took our offerings of praise, even my raspy, whispered praise, and joined it with the sacrifice of Christ to create a perfect act of praise and offering. I don't know if any of this makes sense. There is simply so much going on in the Eucharist, it overwhelms me sometimes.
I am often complimented for my singing voice (if I do say so myself), but I may whisper my hymns more often. I guess something good came from this pesky cold, after all.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Day 11
All morning and afternoon I felt better. Then suddenly, on the way home from work, it was back with a vengeance. This is getting tiresome.
On the upside, it's been awfully fun watching young master Phelps make history. That race last night was stunning. I don't think the French shall be taunting us for a second time, if you know what I mean. Whose father smells of elderberries, now?
On the upside, it's been awfully fun watching young master Phelps make history. That race last night was stunning. I don't think the French shall be taunting us for a second time, if you know what I mean. Whose father smells of elderberries, now?
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Five years later
Had the mixed pleasure of helping to host a dinner party this evening. I say "mixed" because it was a charming bunch of people from my father's Episcopal congregation, but it was bad timing for me, considering this was Day 10 of Cough Fest 2008. (When I learned that Bernie Mac died of pneumonia, I ran to my medical references to check my symptoms).
In any case about halfway through hors d'oeuvres (or as I like to call them, "horse dove-reez"), the conversation turned to the recent Lambeth Conference, and from there quickly to the personage of one Rt. Rev. V. Gene Robinson. Episcopalians are a civilized folk by nature, but nothing breaks down that nature faster than talk of the Bishop of New Hampshire. The topic held for the better part of half an hour, despite the attempts of several people, including myself, to change the subject. I won't go into great detail, except to say that it ran the course of most such discussions: justice, Leviticus, shellfish, Paul, genetics, misogyny, the authority of scripture, catholic process, American hubris, and a local hero/villain Otis Charles. Remarkably enough, 5 years later and we are still stuck in this feedback loop. It's as if the entire Anglican world has hit a rut, and we are all just spinning our wheels, hoping that something will break one way or another. The fascinating thing to me is that most of the people in that room desperately wanted to talk about something else. Some didn't think it proper to talk controversy at a social function. Many were simply tired of talking about it after 5 years. But the conversation just wouldn't die. As soon as it seemed to have run its course, someone would inject one more comment, and it would start all over again. It was almost humorous, but in a very tragic sort of way. I find it incredibly frustrating, simply because I think that the right questions are not being asked, and very few people, on either side of the argument, are really looking at the consequences of what they are saying. I may write at some point about what I think those questions should be and what those consequences are, but for the moment I am just as tired by this as anyone.
On the bright side, the pesto was particularly good, and the tomatoes were a hit.
In any case about halfway through hors d'oeuvres (or as I like to call them, "horse dove-reez"), the conversation turned to the recent Lambeth Conference, and from there quickly to the personage of one Rt. Rev. V. Gene Robinson. Episcopalians are a civilized folk by nature, but nothing breaks down that nature faster than talk of the Bishop of New Hampshire. The topic held for the better part of half an hour, despite the attempts of several people, including myself, to change the subject. I won't go into great detail, except to say that it ran the course of most such discussions: justice, Leviticus, shellfish, Paul, genetics, misogyny, the authority of scripture, catholic process, American hubris, and a local hero/villain Otis Charles. Remarkably enough, 5 years later and we are still stuck in this feedback loop. It's as if the entire Anglican world has hit a rut, and we are all just spinning our wheels, hoping that something will break one way or another. The fascinating thing to me is that most of the people in that room desperately wanted to talk about something else. Some didn't think it proper to talk controversy at a social function. Many were simply tired of talking about it after 5 years. But the conversation just wouldn't die. As soon as it seemed to have run its course, someone would inject one more comment, and it would start all over again. It was almost humorous, but in a very tragic sort of way. I find it incredibly frustrating, simply because I think that the right questions are not being asked, and very few people, on either side of the argument, are really looking at the consequences of what they are saying. I may write at some point about what I think those questions should be and what those consequences are, but for the moment I am just as tired by this as anyone.
On the bright side, the pesto was particularly good, and the tomatoes were a hit.
8/8/08, as it was.
Whatever else you might say about the Beijing games, the opening ceremony was simply spectacular. Every two years I watch the Olympics and wonder how those ceremonies could possibly get better, and every two years they do. Armed with such a wealth of culture and history, the Chinese simply outdid themselves. Vancouver and London have a hard act to follow.
I didn't get a good chance to say this yesterday, but it was 8/8/08. This was particularly significant for me....because it happened to be Day 8 of this wretched, blog-inducing cold. Which I guess makes today Day 9. Cough, hack, ugh!
I didn't get a good chance to say this yesterday, but it was 8/8/08. This was particularly significant for me....because it happened to be Day 8 of this wretched, blog-inducing cold. Which I guess makes today Day 9. Cough, hack, ugh!
Thursday, August 7, 2008
What's in a name?
So, why "The Alta Californian"?
The name actually says a great deal about me, my love for history and geography, my interest in politics and the media, and my love for God and His Church.
The greatest portion of my life so far has occurred within a set of somewhat distinct boundaries encompassing the beautiful country known as Northern California. The geography of my normal reality stretches from the Pacific coastline to the mountains just beyond Reno, Nevada (I have traveled beyond those mountains, but it has always been on a particularly grand adventure, a special occasion). North/South those boundaries are a bit more porous. I rarely travel beyond the Rogue River Valley of Oregon to the north (unless, again, it is a special adventure). South is most complicated of all. Most of my life has been spent north of a line running from about Santa Cruz northeast to about Modesto, east by southeast below Yosemite to Bishop, in the Owens Valley. In the past 8 years, since I have had family living in Southern California, I have ventured south of that line more than ever before. But now that most of that family has returned to the north, I suspect that boundary will gradually harden again.
I love to travel. It is my favorite thing in the world. I have lived briefly on the East Coast, spent a summer in the South, spent a winter on the Northern Plains, and traipsed about most of the country in between. Travels have taken me about Canada, to England, France, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Italy and Honduras. I dearly hope to add Israel and Jordan to that list by the middle of next year. But my life, as I have known it has been here, in upper California, what locals just a bit further north call the Northstate. The glistening peaks of the Sierra Nevada are my mountains, the tumultuous waters of the Pacific crash against my coast, the fragrant vines of Napa grow in my valley, the towering redwoods are my redwoods, and that beautiful city by the bay will always be my city. Alta California, as the Spanish called it (as opposed to "Baja California") is my California. It is not the pride of ownership that makes me say this, it is the pride of having roots in a place, of embracing its beauty, of loving its people, of knowing and being nurtured by such a beautiful land. Wally Stegner, eat your heart out.
The geography of California is very dear to me, and so is its history. "Alta", meaning "Upper" or "Northern" California, comes, of course, from the history of the Golden State. The Spanish had begun exploring the region as early as the 1530s, but colonization had not begun in earnest until the turn of the 18th century. By the dawn of the 19th century, a far flung chain of missions spread up the coast as far as San Francisco. At about the time Lewis & Clark were exploring the Northwest for the young United States, the Spanish split their Pacific colony into northern "Alta California" and southern "Baja California", in an attempt to make it easier to manage. They had little success, and in 1821 formally lost it in the Mexican Revolution. The Mexicans were no match for the ambitions of the United States, and in 1847, Alta California became simply California. The old name did not go away entirely. I actually take the name of my blog directly from one of California's earliest American journalistic enterprises.
The Alta California was a newspaper published in San Francisco from 1849 until about 1891. Also known as The Alta Californian, the paper was one of the earliest periodicals published on the West Coast. Its roots lay even further back, with the California Star, the first newspaper ever printed in San Francisco, in 1847. The Star was begun by Sam Brannan, a gold rush renaissance man who went on to found a town very dear to my heart, Calistoga. When the gold rush began in 1849, Brannan sold the Star. The new owners merged it with another early paper to form The Alta California. For the next four decades it was one of the most prominent newspapers in the West. I first encountered it in college, amidst a research project on frontier perceptions of international news. My research ended up focusing on the 1857 Sepoy Rebellion in British Imperial India, and coverage it received in The Alta California.
So there you have it, California, the Gold Rush, the late 19th century, American journalism and politics. So many of my interests wrapped up in one name.
There is an added bonus, in that "Alta California" roughly corresponds to "Northern California". In my professional and spiritual life, the boundaries of my normal existence are the people and polity of the Episcopal Diocese of Northern California. I may talk more about this in another post, but I am a third generation Episcopalian, albeit a rather eclectic and idiosyncratic one. And at this moment God has blessed me with the opportunity to work for the Church of my birth, in an administrative capacity. As such I try to keep my mind on things higher, things upper, in short, things "alta".
Time will tell if it is an appropriate name, but for now I think it rather suits me.
The name actually says a great deal about me, my love for history and geography, my interest in politics and the media, and my love for God and His Church.
The greatest portion of my life so far has occurred within a set of somewhat distinct boundaries encompassing the beautiful country known as Northern California. The geography of my normal reality stretches from the Pacific coastline to the mountains just beyond Reno, Nevada (I have traveled beyond those mountains, but it has always been on a particularly grand adventure, a special occasion). North/South those boundaries are a bit more porous. I rarely travel beyond the Rogue River Valley of Oregon to the north (unless, again, it is a special adventure). South is most complicated of all. Most of my life has been spent north of a line running from about Santa Cruz northeast to about Modesto, east by southeast below Yosemite to Bishop, in the Owens Valley. In the past 8 years, since I have had family living in Southern California, I have ventured south of that line more than ever before. But now that most of that family has returned to the north, I suspect that boundary will gradually harden again.
I love to travel. It is my favorite thing in the world. I have lived briefly on the East Coast, spent a summer in the South, spent a winter on the Northern Plains, and traipsed about most of the country in between. Travels have taken me about Canada, to England, France, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Italy and Honduras. I dearly hope to add Israel and Jordan to that list by the middle of next year. But my life, as I have known it has been here, in upper California, what locals just a bit further north call the Northstate. The glistening peaks of the Sierra Nevada are my mountains, the tumultuous waters of the Pacific crash against my coast, the fragrant vines of Napa grow in my valley, the towering redwoods are my redwoods, and that beautiful city by the bay will always be my city. Alta California, as the Spanish called it (as opposed to "Baja California") is my California. It is not the pride of ownership that makes me say this, it is the pride of having roots in a place, of embracing its beauty, of loving its people, of knowing and being nurtured by such a beautiful land. Wally Stegner, eat your heart out.
The geography of California is very dear to me, and so is its history. "Alta", meaning "Upper" or "Northern" California, comes, of course, from the history of the Golden State. The Spanish had begun exploring the region as early as the 1530s, but colonization had not begun in earnest until the turn of the 18th century. By the dawn of the 19th century, a far flung chain of missions spread up the coast as far as San Francisco. At about the time Lewis & Clark were exploring the Northwest for the young United States, the Spanish split their Pacific colony into northern "Alta California" and southern "Baja California", in an attempt to make it easier to manage. They had little success, and in 1821 formally lost it in the Mexican Revolution. The Mexicans were no match for the ambitions of the United States, and in 1847, Alta California became simply California. The old name did not go away entirely. I actually take the name of my blog directly from one of California's earliest American journalistic enterprises.
The Alta California was a newspaper published in San Francisco from 1849 until about 1891. Also known as The Alta Californian, the paper was one of the earliest periodicals published on the West Coast. Its roots lay even further back, with the California Star, the first newspaper ever printed in San Francisco, in 1847. The Star was begun by Sam Brannan, a gold rush renaissance man who went on to found a town very dear to my heart, Calistoga. When the gold rush began in 1849, Brannan sold the Star. The new owners merged it with another early paper to form The Alta California. For the next four decades it was one of the most prominent newspapers in the West. I first encountered it in college, amidst a research project on frontier perceptions of international news. My research ended up focusing on the 1857 Sepoy Rebellion in British Imperial India, and coverage it received in The Alta California.
So there you have it, California, the Gold Rush, the late 19th century, American journalism and politics. So many of my interests wrapped up in one name.
There is an added bonus, in that "Alta California" roughly corresponds to "Northern California". In my professional and spiritual life, the boundaries of my normal existence are the people and polity of the Episcopal Diocese of Northern California. I may talk more about this in another post, but I am a third generation Episcopalian, albeit a rather eclectic and idiosyncratic one. And at this moment God has blessed me with the opportunity to work for the Church of my birth, in an administrative capacity. As such I try to keep my mind on things higher, things upper, in short, things "alta".
Time will tell if it is an appropriate name, but for now I think it rather suits me.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
The Transfiguration
Luke 9:28-36
About eight days after Jesus had foretold his death and resurrection, Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah"--not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.
The Transfiguration has always been one of my favorite stories in the life of Jesus. The Lord taken up and shown for the dazzling person of the Trinity that He is. How lucky the favored three (Peter, James, and John) were! How often would we like to see a vision just so! The theological implications of this moment are, of course, quite rich. And most sermons usually end up focusing on Peter's misquided reaction. But the thing I have always found most interesting and moving about this moment is the presence of Moses. The presense of Moses and Elijah on the mount personify (some would say symbolize, but I think it is more significant than mere symbolism) the fulfillment of the covenant history of God and his people in Jesus. Moses and Elijah, the Law and Prophets, brought together by the incarnate Lord. Moses and Elijah, whose missions on earth were never quite fulfilled. Moses, remember, whose life was all about freeing God's people from bondage and establishing them as a covenant people in the promised land, ruled by God's Law, walks up the mountain and is taken and buried by God. Elijah, tasked with speaking truth to a people who had wandered away from covenant, is carried into heaven by the chariot of fire. Neither dies in the conventional sense. Each leaves their task unfinished. Moses cannot enter the promised land. God's people do not heed Elijah and set themselves a course that leads, eventually, to destruction and exile. The task of covenant, of New Creation in God, can never be completed by our own merits. But standing there on the mount of Transfiguration, Moses and Elijah see that New Creation emerging in Jesus. In Him the law will be fulfilled, through Him will the Covenant be renewed and New Creation born.
And if that is not enough there is even more, for there stands Moses. His life had been dedicated to bringing Israel to the promised land, only to be denied entry to it for his behavior by the waters of Meribah. Rather than speaking to the rock, and giving God due credit. Moses strikes the rock, and essentially takes credit himself ("What, do I have to give you water now? Ingrates!"). This has often been cited by atheists and liberal theologians as yet one more example of the capricious violence of the Old Testament God. I can see why. If anyone had a right to be frustrated it was Moses. God had freed them, saved them again and again, given them everything they needed. But again and again God's people complained, it's not enough. I think Moses was justifiably pissed at Meribah. But he took credit for what God had done, and that's never kosher (as it were). Condemned to die and not enter the promised land. Yet here he is, on the mount of Transfiguration, which by tradition is Mt. Tabor or possibly Mt. Hermon, both inside the Promised Land. By the incarnation and sacrifice of Jesus are all sins forgiven, even that of Moses. Now I know this is before the Resurrection, so I haven't fully worked out the theological implications of this, but I still find it incredibly significant that Moses here stands, in the promised land, next to the one who will set all things to rights and inaugurate the Kingdom of God.
O God, who on the holy mount revealed to chosen witnesses your well-beloved Son, wonderfully transfigured, in raiment white and glistening: Mercifully grant that we, being delivered from the disquietude of this world, may by faith behold the King in his beauty; who with you, O Father, and you, O Holy Spirit, lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
About eight days after Jesus had foretold his death and resurrection, Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah"--not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.
The Transfiguration has always been one of my favorite stories in the life of Jesus. The Lord taken up and shown for the dazzling person of the Trinity that He is. How lucky the favored three (Peter, James, and John) were! How often would we like to see a vision just so! The theological implications of this moment are, of course, quite rich. And most sermons usually end up focusing on Peter's misquided reaction. But the thing I have always found most interesting and moving about this moment is the presence of Moses. The presense of Moses and Elijah on the mount personify (some would say symbolize, but I think it is more significant than mere symbolism) the fulfillment of the covenant history of God and his people in Jesus. Moses and Elijah, the Law and Prophets, brought together by the incarnate Lord. Moses and Elijah, whose missions on earth were never quite fulfilled. Moses, remember, whose life was all about freeing God's people from bondage and establishing them as a covenant people in the promised land, ruled by God's Law, walks up the mountain and is taken and buried by God. Elijah, tasked with speaking truth to a people who had wandered away from covenant, is carried into heaven by the chariot of fire. Neither dies in the conventional sense. Each leaves their task unfinished. Moses cannot enter the promised land. God's people do not heed Elijah and set themselves a course that leads, eventually, to destruction and exile. The task of covenant, of New Creation in God, can never be completed by our own merits. But standing there on the mount of Transfiguration, Moses and Elijah see that New Creation emerging in Jesus. In Him the law will be fulfilled, through Him will the Covenant be renewed and New Creation born.
And if that is not enough there is even more, for there stands Moses. His life had been dedicated to bringing Israel to the promised land, only to be denied entry to it for his behavior by the waters of Meribah. Rather than speaking to the rock, and giving God due credit. Moses strikes the rock, and essentially takes credit himself ("What, do I have to give you water now? Ingrates!"). This has often been cited by atheists and liberal theologians as yet one more example of the capricious violence of the Old Testament God. I can see why. If anyone had a right to be frustrated it was Moses. God had freed them, saved them again and again, given them everything they needed. But again and again God's people complained, it's not enough. I think Moses was justifiably pissed at Meribah. But he took credit for what God had done, and that's never kosher (as it were). Condemned to die and not enter the promised land. Yet here he is, on the mount of Transfiguration, which by tradition is Mt. Tabor or possibly Mt. Hermon, both inside the Promised Land. By the incarnation and sacrifice of Jesus are all sins forgiven, even that of Moses. Now I know this is before the Resurrection, so I haven't fully worked out the theological implications of this, but I still find it incredibly significant that Moses here stands, in the promised land, next to the one who will set all things to rights and inaugurate the Kingdom of God.
O God, who on the holy mount revealed to chosen witnesses your well-beloved Son, wonderfully transfigured, in raiment white and glistening: Mercifully grant that we, being delivered from the disquietude of this world, may by faith behold the King in his beauty; who with you, O Father, and you, O Holy Spirit, lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Why?
At the outset of any blogging enterprise lies the fundamental question: Why? Why do this? Why put my thoughts out for the world to see, galk at, attack, even rally around? Will anyone care? Will anyone even read? If the latter answers are no, why bother? Just to collect my own thoughts? If the answers are yes, then this whole thing is a different matter. But either way, is this not just an exercise in vanity?
Many bloggers try to tackle these issues head on, early on, with some sort of ontological exposition. I find most such explanations rather unsatisfactory and usually self-indulgent. Which could explain why many ignore those questions completely and launch into their e-careers. Ironically I find the lack of any stated purpose to be equally unsatisfying.
I have no easy answers, but I do feel compelled to say something. I don't know if anyone will read, or find it interesting. And I don't know if this is a useful way to collect and express my own thoughts. I can only describe what brings me to this place. The short answer to that "what" is simple: insomnia. I am five days into a bout of bronchitis...a late summer cold in short. It is remarkable what one thinks about as one lay awake, sometimes for hours on end, rousted by one's own coughing. I found myself composing mental essays on everything from the election to the Lambeth Conference, the geography of 19th century California to the problems with the Pelagian heresy. Obama, McCain, blogs, bishops, the media, the fires, the lost colony of Roanoke, the real landing place of Sir Francis Drake, whether I should take a vacation this year, and where I would go, all swirling around in my head. Laying there in the dark, swimming in a sea of disordered thought, the answer became clear, I simply must start a blog.
Insomnia....I wonder how many other blogs began in just this way.
Now mind you I have been tempted to start a blog many times before. When our Episcopal Diocese elected its current bishop two years ago, I actually thought about liveblogging the convention, as was common at the time in dioceses like Tennessee. But church savvy folk will know that things were interesting in Tennessee. They were downright dull in Northern California. But I knew things the general public did not, and the siren song of blogging was very strong indeed. Despite the lure of inside knowledge, despite the encouragement of folks like my brother, I have spent quite a bit of time resisting the temptation. It has been a rather easy temptation to resist. I spend much of my time reading other people's blogs and even commenting on some. But in the past few months the wear and tear of comment-sections has begun to take a toll on me. So much petty partisanship, be it over the election or the state of the Episcopal Church. So much time spent scoring cheap points, excoriating one's opponents. It is so taxing that I have almost completely given up making comments, or even seriously reading them. Even now I am almost talking myself out of this enterprise.
But as my insomnia has laid bare, I simply have too much roaming about my head. Too many ideas, too many loose neurons. Perhaps putting them out in a log, even a weblog, will put them in some order. And perhaps my friends and friends yet unmet will join me in dialog on some of them. Still it could be a risky venture. I have seen blogs rise and fall with great rapidity. I read somewhere recently that the average blog lasts less than three months, and has virtually no readership. That is a destiny I think I will embrace, if it comes, for then at least my cold will be gone and I'll be getting proper sleep. So, appropriately on this day, the Feast of the Transfiguration, I find myself changed, from an observer to a participant, from a commenter to a poster.
Besides, I have really too much time on my hands, and this will serve as a distraction. Frankly, I give myself a month.
Many bloggers try to tackle these issues head on, early on, with some sort of ontological exposition. I find most such explanations rather unsatisfactory and usually self-indulgent. Which could explain why many ignore those questions completely and launch into their e-careers. Ironically I find the lack of any stated purpose to be equally unsatisfying.
I have no easy answers, but I do feel compelled to say something. I don't know if anyone will read, or find it interesting. And I don't know if this is a useful way to collect and express my own thoughts. I can only describe what brings me to this place. The short answer to that "what" is simple: insomnia. I am five days into a bout of bronchitis...a late summer cold in short. It is remarkable what one thinks about as one lay awake, sometimes for hours on end, rousted by one's own coughing. I found myself composing mental essays on everything from the election to the Lambeth Conference, the geography of 19th century California to the problems with the Pelagian heresy. Obama, McCain, blogs, bishops, the media, the fires, the lost colony of Roanoke, the real landing place of Sir Francis Drake, whether I should take a vacation this year, and where I would go, all swirling around in my head. Laying there in the dark, swimming in a sea of disordered thought, the answer became clear, I simply must start a blog.
Insomnia....I wonder how many other blogs began in just this way.
Now mind you I have been tempted to start a blog many times before. When our Episcopal Diocese elected its current bishop two years ago, I actually thought about liveblogging the convention, as was common at the time in dioceses like Tennessee. But church savvy folk will know that things were interesting in Tennessee. They were downright dull in Northern California. But I knew things the general public did not, and the siren song of blogging was very strong indeed. Despite the lure of inside knowledge, despite the encouragement of folks like my brother, I have spent quite a bit of time resisting the temptation. It has been a rather easy temptation to resist. I spend much of my time reading other people's blogs and even commenting on some. But in the past few months the wear and tear of comment-sections has begun to take a toll on me. So much petty partisanship, be it over the election or the state of the Episcopal Church. So much time spent scoring cheap points, excoriating one's opponents. It is so taxing that I have almost completely given up making comments, or even seriously reading them. Even now I am almost talking myself out of this enterprise.
But as my insomnia has laid bare, I simply have too much roaming about my head. Too many ideas, too many loose neurons. Perhaps putting them out in a log, even a weblog, will put them in some order. And perhaps my friends and friends yet unmet will join me in dialog on some of them. Still it could be a risky venture. I have seen blogs rise and fall with great rapidity. I read somewhere recently that the average blog lasts less than three months, and has virtually no readership. That is a destiny I think I will embrace, if it comes, for then at least my cold will be gone and I'll be getting proper sleep. So, appropriately on this day, the Feast of the Transfiguration, I find myself changed, from an observer to a participant, from a commenter to a poster.
Besides, I have really too much time on my hands, and this will serve as a distraction. Frankly, I give myself a month.
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