Over a Candle

In case you haven’t heard, the NAACP has charged elements within the Tea Party movement as racist. I’m not interested in evaluating those charges here. What interests me are the reactions to those charges that I’ve seen online and in editorial pages.

Some of the responses are something of a red herring. They at least miss the point. These are the responses from members of the movement who claim not to be racist themselves. Of course, if the charge is, as I understand it, that some members of the movement are racist and should be purged, saying that you aren’t racist isn’t really the point. If the NAACP had claimed that all members were racist, then your response would be relevant.

What is really obnoxious, though, is the form of ad hominem that some of the responses have taken. Rather than defending those charged with racism, these response simply claim that the NAACP is itself racist. This is the tu quoque fallacy, or more colloquially, “I know you are, but what am I?”

In essence, they claim that they can be racist, and ignore charges of racism from the NAACP because that organization is also racist.

Counter-charges are as old as politics itself, I suspect, but they are a crappy way to reason.

If you think the NAACP is racist (and I’m not saying they are, but I’m not going to have that argument here), then they are being hypocritical. But that doesn’t mean you get to be a racist, too. Racism is wrong. If the NAACP engages in it, it is wrong to do so. And if the Tea Party is doing so, it’s wrong, too. It’s no defense to point out your accuser’s hypocrisy.

I don’t think the Tea Party is inherently racist, not from what I’ve seen anyway. But if there are racist elements in it, then it should seek to eliminate those elements from its ranks. Instead, its supporters seem mostly interested in giving fallacious defenses of people most of them don’t even know.

“Hey! Turn that off!”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, turn that OFF!”

“But it is GOOD.”

“Who says?”

“I did. Just now.”

“Who are you?”

“Me? Well, I AM…”

“Never mind. Just turn it off.”

“But I declared it GOOD.”

“Look. You can’t just move in here and start . . . illuminating everything. You need to show some consideration for your neighbors.”

“. . .”

“I get it. I do. You have this new fangled toy, and you want to play with it. I’m the same way. Just last week. . . Well, that doesn’t matter. I just annoyed the gal two houses down. Not a good situation.”

“So even though this is GOOD, I should turn it off?”

“Well, you don’t have to get rid of it. Use it during normal hours. Maybe turn it on for a bit, and then off. And give us some heads up. You could turn it on slowly. That way we all know it’s coming.”

“I guess I could do that.”

“We could even name the periods you have it on, and when you have it off.”

“Names?”

“Sure. Come up with something.”

“How about ‘The Shining Brilliance of Daystar’?”

“That’s a mouthful. Let’s just call it ‘day.’ Much easier to remember.”

“Day?”

“Sure. Now what about when it’s off?”

“Uh… ‘Nigh the… day?’”

“You are a wordy bugger, aren’t you. ‘Night.’ Same idea, but only one syllable. One syllable is good.”

“So ‘day’ and ‘night’?”

“Sounds good. Now. It’s night. And I’m trying to sleep. So. Turn. It. OFF!”

I know I’m going to need to explain this post. I’ve written about suicide before here. And I don’t want anyone to worry. Honest. Earlier today, I discovered that someone had started following me on Twitter because of a post there I made late last night. One tweet I noticed by this new follower included the following: “Suicide’s only for people whose IQ is below retarded.” That got me thinking and led to this post.

Camus begins The Myth of Sisyphus with an absurd reasoning. This reasoning – and the book as a whole – begins with the following line: “There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide.” Camus is interested in discovering whether, in the absence of God – or any transcendent meaning whatsoever, life is worth living.

This question, as Camus explains in the opening paragraph, must be answered:

Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. . . . And if it is true, as Nietzsche claims, that a philosopher, to deserve our respect, must preach by example, you can appreciate the importance of that reply, for it will precede the definitive act.

I have spent most of the last twenty years or so pondering this “fundamental question of philosophy.” Indeed, I think it goes at least some way toward explaining how I got into philosophy in the first place. While Camus believes he found an answer, that life is worth living even more so because there is no transcendent meaning, I am still searching for an answer.

What bothers me is not my own lack of an answer, not at this point at least. Instead, I am troubled by the attitude that suicide is only for stupid people. Or, more generally, that suicide is a sign of obvious defect. Something must be wrong for someone to commit suicide.

I do believe that suicide is sometimes the consequence of mental illness (though I am suspicious of the claim that it is the consequence of lack of intelligence). But I am open to the claim that suicide may be a rational response to the world. Has anyone ever committed suicide as a result of a thoughtful, reasoned deliberation? I do not know for sure. But I believe it conceivable.

Many people speak as though it is obvious that we should want to live. It is the norm. It is expected. When someone raises questions about wanting to live, we immediately seek to get them help. Living is our natural state, so clearly we should all want to live. As long as possible.

But why? Why do we default to the assumption that everyone who is normal wants to be alive, and thus anyone who isn’t sure – or surely doesn’t – must be broken? Is it really so obvious? Must it be crazy to decide that life isn’t worth living? Or to even ask the question?

In more than 20 years thinking about the issue, I still have no answer. And I do wonder if I would be condemned as crazy for even wanting to ask. But I still do. If that makes me stupid or crazy, so be it.

Today I returned to the radio for the first time in years. In a previous life, I was an intern at a top-40 radio station back in Toledo. I was even on the air a few times.

But I digress.

Today I was going to be one of three people doing a segment on the Christopher Gabriel Program, a local talk show. We were to be interviewed about the Center for Interfaith Projects. Due to circumstances, I wound up doing the interview solo.

All of this has reminded me, though, that I haven’t plugged the Center on my blog, and I really should.

The Center for Interfaith Projects is a non-profit organization that seeks to encourage respect and dialogue among followers of different religions. It was established by a good friend of mine, and former colleague, David Myers. I currently serve on the Center’s board of directors as its chair.

Here’s the mission statement:

The mission of the Center for Interfaith Projects is to:

• Educate the community about different faiths (both world and native religions).
• Increase understanding and respect among people of different faiths.
• Foster cooperation among local faith communities to solve common community problems.
• Help individuals in search of a spiritual home to find one.

If you would like learn more about the organization’s work, please visit The Center for Interfaith Projects’ website.

If you are, for some reason, desperate to hear my voice on the radio, you can find an archive of the Christopher Gabriel Program on the WDAY radio website. You want the program from today, June 10th. My segment is during the last twenty minutes or so of the show, so you will want to zip through the two hours and forty minutes. (Luckily you can just drag the slider to skip to the end.)

“I believe that, if a triangle could speak, it would say, in like manner, that God is eminently triangular, while a circle would say that the divine nature is eminently circular. Thus each would ascribe to God its own attributes, would assume itself to be like God, and look on everything else as ill-shaped.” – Spinoza, Letter 60, to Hugo Boxel, trans. by R.H.M. Elwes

We all have our own notions of God. We all think we know what God would be, whether or not God exists. As Anselm taught us, even the atheist has to have an idea of what it is that he or she denies the existence of. Of course the theist must have some idea of what he or she believes.

We all think we know what perfection must be. Where does that come from? Does God exist and give us an idea of what God is like? Does perfection exist within us? Or is it simply individual delusion?

Spinoza believed he had a good description of God; it simply differed in important ways from the idea of God that predominated his world. He trusted the derivations from obvious truths to lead him to the proper description of God’s nature. Perhaps he trusted too much in human reason to lead him to the answer.

His insight that we are prone to attribute to God our own attributes was correct, but maybe it didn’t go far enough. It might be that even our reason is inadequate to the task. Perhaps, to paraphrase Haldane (or Eddington, there seems to be some dispute about the proper citation), it is that God is not only stranger than we imagine, God is stranger than we can imagine.

Last Friday I attended a service at the local synagogue. It’s a reformed Jewish community, and I followed the prayer book carefully throughout the service. At the bottom of one page, I noticed this quote from Martin Buber:

When people come to you for help, do not turn them off with pious words, saying: “Have faith and take your troubles to God!” Act instead as if there were no God, as though there were only one person in all the world who could help – only yourself.

This is one of the most profound statements of compassion I think I have ever read.

Too often I have heard someone dismissively suggest something like “God never gives us more than we can handle.” Perhaps this gives comfort to someone, but I know too many people who have suffered mightily under the weight of their lives to believe it. It sounds rather unsympathetic to my ears.

Buber believes in God, but suggests that piety is not what is called for when someone is struggling. Rather, compassion is called for. It is not our job to tell someone to feel differently because God will handle it. We should instead listen to the person, not dismiss their pain. After all, they have come to us for comfort. It would seem heartless to pass the responsibility on to God.

You know how people are always complaining that moderate Muslims need to speak out against extremists? So I assume we will see moderate Christians speak up in the next day or two to denounce Pat Robertson?

In all seriousness, I know many Christians think Pat Robertson is full of it. He does not speak for them. Indeed, if I were a Christian, I would be mad as heck, and shouting Robertson down with all my breath.

This man is not a Christian. He is a hate-monger who uses religion to make money. His vision of God suggests that God does not love human beings; Robertson’s God hates human beings and sets out to punish them on a regular basis in this life. Robertson is a bully and a vile example of the species. He has not a compassionate bone in his body.

I wish I was over being surprised by his wretchedness. But with each new tragedy that he tries to use to push is dystopian vision of religion and try to raise money to sate his own limitless greed and stoke his own ego, I am shocked anew.

To my friends who are Christian… I know this man does not represent you. And I’m sorry that he pretends to.

This is the text of his comments, in case you haven’t already heard them yourself…

Haiti disaster blamed on pact with devil:

Speaking on his television program The 700 Club, Mr Robertson said the pact happened ‘a long time ago in Haiti’.

‘They were under the heel of the French, you know Napoleon III [sic] and whatever. And they got together and swore a pact to the devil,’ he said.

‘They said ‘We will serve you if you will get us free from the prince.’ True story.

‘And so the devil said, ‘OK it’s a deal’. And they kicked the French out.’

Mr Robertson said after the pact, the Haitians ‘revolted and got something – themselves free’.

‘But ever since they have been cursed by one thing after another,’ he said.

Haiti won its independence from France in 1804 after a slave rebellion.

Mr Robertson said the curse was evident when Haiti was contrasted with its neighbour, the Dominican Republic.

‘That island of Hispaniola is one island. It is cut down the middle – on the one side is Haiti, on the other is the Dominican Republic,’ he said.

‘Dominican Republic is prosperous, healthy, full of resorts, etc. Haiti is in desperate poverty. Same island.

‘They need to have, and we need to pray for them, a great turning to God and out of this tragedy I’m optimistic something good may come.’

Not to detract from my end of the year post, but I wanted to remind everyone today was Endmas. This final day of Chrischanukkahwanzaamas involves fireworks, lots of kissing, and regifting of unwanted presents. Lots of fun to be had by all. Go visit the page for more info.

And HAPPY MERRY FESTIVE!!!

By now, everyone has cooked everything they could possibly want to cook. And, if you’re like most of the people I know, that means you have a fridge full of food you only eat once a year, and that once has probably passed. Now you’ve got the remains of a feast or two, and you have to do something with it all.

Just in time, Chrischanukkahwanzaamas brings you Leftovermas!

The point is simple and obvious. Take all the food in your fridge (that is already in edible form), throw it on some white bread, and eat it. There is absolutely no way you can wrong today. It’s time to clear out the leftovers.

Think of it like Fat Tuesday without the parade or the beads. Unless, of course, you like to eat beads and you have some in your fridge.

They say you can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family. (They also say you can’t pick your friend’s nose, so what do they know?) Since the next couple of days are spent with people you can’t pick, why not spend today with those you can? That’s what today, Chummas, is all about!

Unfortunately, the name of this day of Chrischanukkahwanzaamas seems to be causing some confusion. This is NOT the day to feed the sharks. I suppose you could do that on the 29th, but that’s not really what that day is about, either. And Chrischanukkahwanzaamas is trying to go green; throwing a bunch of turkey into the ocean seems to run counter to that goal.

Anyway… We thought about calling it “Buddymas,” but Will Ferrell wasn’t available. And “Friendmas” just sounds silly. So “Chummas” it is!

Today is about giving gifts to those people you want to give gifts to, not to those people you have to. And it should be something fun, something they need. Remember, this holiday is about people you like.

Happy Merry Festive!