I have already made my support for government recognition of same-sex unions known on many occasions, and my extended thoughts on this debate are available elsewhere on this blog. Re-hashing such commentary in detail will help no one; only a summary is necessary: in short, my belief that same sex couples have every right to marry is attenuated by my belief that sovereignty in the United States lies with the people – not the judiciary. As such, any efforts to extend legal recognition of marriage to same-sex couples must begin with an effort to convince the public that this historically essential institution will not be harmed by doing so.

One would think this would be easy given the injury 50% of once-married heterosexual couples, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Mickey Rooney, Britney Spears, and a substantial portion of the Las Vegas economy have done to it. Alas, it is not. But we must persevere. Until we succeed, activists in my camp will antagonize our opponents and enrage the general public by insisting that the matter be resolved by the judiciary. To make matters worse, they continually conflate lawmakers with those tasked with interpreting the law. It’s enough  to make a person write extended blog posts on a subject of relatively little global importance while drinking cheap gin and smoking cigars on a Saturday night.

But I digress.

What struck me by last week’s ruling is this: No matter how often the spectacle presents itself, I simply cannot become accustomed to the sight of hundreds or thousands of same-sex couples waiting with bated breath to hear the ruling of some judicial cog regarding the status of their nuptials. “Can we get married or not?” was the phrase apparently uttered by countless gay and lesbian individuals on the Left Coast.

I think it is a combination of both personal experience and an innate libertarian disposition which makes me so startled by this type of statement. I know a number of same-sex couples who have vowed to spend their lives together, and without a doubt, I consider them to be married. One couple in particular has been married nearly 20 years, and shows every sign of continuing for another 20. They are married. You don’t think so? God disagrees, you say? I respect your opinion. But no amount of direct democracy, legislative action, or judicial fiat will convince me otherwise. Whether or not same-sex marriage is recognized by the government is a practical matter that affects insurance status, hospital visits, and the like. These are certainly critical issues, but they do not address the key question of whether or not a same-sex couple is committed to one another until death.

Marriage is an intensely personal matter, made public by profession, and made spiritual by solemn vow. I am married to my wife because I made a vow to love, honor, and cherish her for the rest of my life, and my word is my bond. There are nearly 100 of our friends and family members who can attest to the fact that these vows were made. My now brother in law, a pastor, officiated, and in doing so provided continuity between the interpersonal, social, and – of primary importance – spiritual. Yes, at one point I did sign a marriage license, and it was registered with the appropriate government agency; the government recognizes our union. However, I regard this recognition as no more important than the lease on my apartment, an insurance policy, or countless other contractual relationships into which I have entered. What makes marriage different is its spiritual and social character.

Above all, what troubles me about the same-sex marriage debate today is the level of dependence on the state which it betrays. The government has become so pervasive and intrusive into all of our affairs that we now rely on it to define our interpersonal relationships.

I will rest for a few words and allow the absurd nature of this situation to sink in.

Now, I repeat: those of you who are ultimately waiting on a SCOTUS ruling to determine whether or not you can marry are relying on the state to determine the status of your personal relationships. To same-sex couples across the world who  wish to make a lifelong commitment to one another, I say you do yourself and our society a disservice by allowing such an intrusion into your personal lives. The government may fail to recognize your contractual obligations to one another – as well as the contractual obligations of insurance companies, hospitals, etc. – but this does nothing to define your relationship.

Get married. I and millions of other Americans will recognize and honor your union.

Then address the government’s shortcomings with respect to contractual enforcement.

If one listens to our policymakers, the Volt represents a gigantic leap forward in efficient, clean transportation. If one listens to the market, an alternative narrative is presented. “Anyone who has $41k+ to spend on a car is going to purchase a BMW” the market says. “The only people who think spending that kind of money on what essentially amounts to a $17k sedan are hippies. And hippies don’t have any money.”

Well duh.

It’s unclear exactly who will be driving the Volt, but I think I have an idea. As for me, I’m waiting for either (a) fuel-cell vehicles, or (b) an aftermarket Mr. Fusion I can attach to my fuel tank. Whichever comes first.

Either way, it will be a market-driven invention, and not the ideologically-based, taxpayer-funded imposition GM has produced.

It is a shame and a disgrace that we did not extend unemployment insurance. Every single member who voted no yesterday should be ashamed of themselves. People are suffering! They are hurting! They are in pain! They cannot make ends meet. And too many, just too many, on the other side of the aisle turn a deaf ear. I ask my Republican colleagues: Can’t you hear? Can’t you feel? Can’t you see? Where is your heart? Where is your compassion? Where is your concern? Extend unemployment benefit and extend it now!

There are two issues here: (1) the fact that Congress is in the habit of passing this type of legislation (i.e., extending unemployment benefits) without actually figuring out how to pay for it, and (2) the question of whether or not extending such benefits actually increases the duration of a recession – at least with respect to unemployment figures – since the unemployed have less incentive to find work while they are on the dole. Should Congress figure out exactly how to pay for an extension, the bill would almost certainly gain enough support from both parties and pass. My concern is with the second point.

There is some evidence (e.g., this report from the Federal Reserve Bank of San Fransisco) that extended unemployment benefits do have the effect of extending high levels of unemployment, albeit a marginal one – roughly 6% of the increased unemployment rate we’re currently experiencing. However, I think I’m starting to see a pattern which is cause for concern: Congress seems determined to extend such benefits with no end in sight. Unemployment is and always will be a fact of life, and legislators can always point to an unemployment rate, declare it to be too high (often with an emotional appeal about single mothers, starving babies, etc.), and demand yet another extension of unemployment benefits be passed. Since it’s difficult to pinpoint an exact date on which a recession comes to an end, it’s unclear when Congress would feel it is no longer necessary to extend unemployment benefits.

And therein lies my concern. An unending provision of unemployment insurance from the federal government would, in many respects, amount to a new welfare state. I am by no means suggesting that this development is a certainty – I’m simply suggesting that passing an extension of unemployment benefits is far from a no-brainer (unless, of course, you’re trying to buy votes).

John Lewis doesn’t see it that way, but – based on the above statement – this position is based almost exclusively on influences I deem suspect. He rails on about compassion, heart, pain, etc., yet he makes no rational argument whatsoever. I’ve heard the above quote repeated as a rallying cry by many on the left, and I consider this to be quite revealing. Do we really want our lawmakers crafting legislation based on their feelings?

Yes, Mr. Lewis, I do have a heart. It is guided by my values, which are a product of my mind. However, unlike you, my values extend beyond a basic emotive response to the suffering of others. They are informed by a wide range of scholarship, encompassing both empirical statements and normative assumptions.  This knowledge includes a basic understanding of human nature and motivations, economic theory, and post-WWII, European “middle-way” economies, many of which boast double-digit real unemployment rates during even the best of times. Of course, many of these same countries have large welfare states, which tend to compensate (in the mind of their respective body politics) for the fact that large portions of their populations are without work.

You ask us to consider – “with our hearts” – the impact a failure to extend unemployment benefits will have on the unemployed. I, however, ask you to consider the larger effect a perpetual provision of unemployment benefits will have on the larger U.S. (and by extension, global) economy. You can always make an emotional appeal to help the unemployed, and there will always be people who, for a variety of reasons, simply cannot find a job. Emotional appeals such as this – that is, those which lack a coherent philosophical grounding – can be made with great vigor and success, regarding virtually anything. It was this type of appeal to base emotion which built the Pruitt-Igoe housing project, spent billions of dollars on toxic foreign aid (in the form of central planning, no less) to developing nations dictatorships, and has somehow convinced a substantial portion of the American public that they have a “right” to the labor of others in the form of health care.

The type of decision making you advocate is lethal to the long-term success of a republic such as ours. It is reactionary, literally thoughtless, and accountable to no one. It enslaves us to the most persuasive, emotional rhetoric while freeing us from the responsibility to think through problems and formulate our opinions rationally. If religion is the opiate of the masses, emotional appeal is the methamphetamine of the policymaker. It allows politicians to advocate ill-conceived, yet popular positions, and demonize their opponents should they have the audacity to apply their minds to a given issue. Appeals to emotion masquerade as compassionate and progressive, when they are, in fact, a return to the human race in a lower form – one more closely related to our primate ancestors than the great thinkers of history.

You stand at your pulpit, full of righteous indignation towards the producers in our society, and proclaim that those who vote against yet another extension of unemployment benefits lack compassion. I say that anyone whose opinion is finalized by your remarks is an intellectual whore, and you their pimp. Even if there is a compelling, rational reason to extend such benefits (a possibility to which I am certainly open), you have thoroughly desecrated the affirmative position with your deviation in oratory.

You ask me, “where is your heart?”

I ask you, Mr. Lewis, “where is your mind?”

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu was recently asked a question regarding “Arab lands” in Israel. The PM’s response was that there was no such thing because, “It’s our land”.

People much smarter than me have rendered up answers to the question and I was particularly careful to ignore all of them – it just increases the time I have to spend on research. I first approached the issue from the standpoint of a real estate transaction. One of the benefits of that approach is that all land everywhere is owned or controlled by someone. That applies to Antarctica, Manhattan and Israel. Plus, I know a little about real estate already.

Location, location, location. Israel’s particular corner of the world lies at the confluence of Asia, Europe and Africa. It’s geopolitical value dates back to when western traders with baubles, bangles and beads passed through to the orient and then returned with spices and silks. If your people controlled Israel and it’s surroundings, you were entitled to rake-off a bit of all this commerce in an ancient version of the protection racket. “Tell ya what. Give us the paprika and we can guarantee that bandits won’t attack your caravan, slaughter your men, rape your women and barbecue your kids.” The New Jersey Turnpike should look into this marketing angle to increase revenue.

Prior to all that commerce, Israel just happened to be in an area that a lot of thugs wanted to conquer in order to conquer other people as well. And, since people have been living in that neck of the desert for thousands of years since history was invented, there’s an extensive historical record to examine; kind of the world’s longest title search. Sadly, this compelled me to abandon real estate law and trudge through that history.

It would appear that the city of Jerusalem was first inhabited in the fourth millenium BCE. This was during the “Copper Age”, which began in the fifth millenium BCE, somewhere else. The Copper Age lasted about a millenium, so the folks in Jerusalem were late-comers to the copper thingy. About the time the dullards in Jerusalem figured out copper, other people started mixing tin with copper to produce bronze. The Bronze Age opened a can of whup-ass on the copper-wielders so, at its founding, at least, the good people of Jerusalem were at a technological disadvantage, metal-wise. The superiority of bronze over copper weapons can be easily demonstrated in your own kitchen. Take a penny from your spouse or kids, place it on a plastic or bamboo cutting board, and whack it with a piece of bronze. I’m not sure where you’ll find an actual piece of bronze, but I’m pretty sure that the penny will not look too swell when you’re through. Mind you, I’m not actually suggesting that you do such a thing, given that defacement of United States coinage is a Federal offense punishable by stern looks, finger waggling and head-noogies.

The poor shlubs who first built their wattle and daub habitats in the vicinity of Jerusalem have been swallowed up by a variety of their betters over the millennia. A list of conquerors/conquerees reads like a Who’s Who of the Levant’s most bloodthirsty and idiotic tyrants. That rich tradition continues to the present day.

By the time king David got around to conquering the city, it was held by Jebusites – a Canaanite people much maligned in scriptures written by history’s winners. David made the city the capital of the Kingdom of Israel and his son Solomon built the Temple on Mt. Moriah. Solomon went to his reward around 930 BCE, after which ten of the twelve tribes of Israel booked and started their own kingdom. About 200 years later the ten tribes were evicted by the Assyrians and many returned to Jerusalem. The balance became the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel and, depending on which crackpot theory you subscribe to, emerged later in history as either American Indians, Irishmen, East Indians, Ethiopians, Japanese, Scots, Persians or Brits.

In 586 BCE the Babylonians had their run at the place and defeated Assyrians and Jews alike. Jerusalem was taken, the Temple was destroyed and the surviving inhabitants were hauled off to be slaves in Babylon. In 538 BCE Cyrus the Great sent the Jews back to their city and invited them to rebuild their (second) Temple.

Now, neither scripture nor history says anything about the Jubusites, Canaanites or even Palestinians being given the same ticket back to Jerusalem. We don’t even know if they were hauled away in the first place. Actually, the word “Palestine” didn’t really emerge until around 135 CE when the Romans used the name to designate that area which roughly corresponds to what we now call the “Holy Land”. The word, however, has etymological roots in “Phylistia” which designated the coastal region of the area and whose people were never conquered by the Israelites (even though God told them to do it OR ELSE!!!). The Israelite Judge Samson used to amuse himself at the expense of the Philistines. He once single-handedly sent 10,000 of them to Baal using nothing more than the jawbone of a deceased domestic equine. Years later the shepherd David clobbered one of them with a rock and prospered.

Those Philistines who survived such ill use later became Phoenicians or live among us now as people of low taste. I suppose that if those who today call themselves “Palestinians” could trace their lineage back to Goliath as effectively as the Jews have traced theirs to David and Solomon, this whole Middle-East Crisis would never have emerged. It should be noted as well that there is no independent historical evidence that either David or Solomon ever even existed in anything but Jewish lore. But that lore continues today and is believed by people professing faith in the world’s first, second and ninth largest religions.

Back to the war and pillage. In 445 BCE a Macedonian galoot who styled himself Alexander the Great conquered the whole Babylonian schmear, including Jerusalem and its environs. Alex was one of that new breed of conquerors who eschewed slaughtering every living thing in a conquered locale, realizing that tax-paying subjects were more useful than heaps of corpses. So the Jews abided in Jerusalem, worshipped in their (second) Temple, paid their taxes and were ignored by the rest of the world. By-and-by, Alexander The Actually Mortal paid the debt that all men owe and his hardly-broken-in empire was split into three parts. Ptolemy I got the part of the empire that included Jerusalem and he continued his deceased patron’s policy.

But history is filled with raucousness and in 198 BCE the Seleucids gave Ptolemy V the bum’s rush and took title to Jerusalem for a brief period. The Seleucids tried to turn Jews into Greeks and the resulting Maccabean revolt and victory (source of the Jewish holiday of Hanukah) allowed the Jews to briefly rule their own city and country without any outside interference.

Enter Rome. Previous empires had come and gone, washing over Jerusalem but, with one exception, allowing the locals to retain local control. Rome sopped up Israel with hardly a thought and retained Alexander’s benign policy: pay your taxes, keep your noses clean and we’ll provide you with paved roads, aqueducts, clean water, sanitation, protection from highwaymen, rational civil administration, protection from foreign invasion, something akin to the rule of law, and swell blood sports at the Arena of your choice.

Herod The Great was installed as a sort-of local king but I’m switched if I can figure out who ever called this brute “The Great”. According to Jews he was a lickspittle for Rome and the Christians claim that he ordered the Slaughter of the Innocents in an attempt to bag the newborn Messiah. Nevertheless, he greatly expanded the Temple Mount and I guess even the devil should be given his due.
The Jews decided this exemplary arrangement was unsatisfactory and rebelled. In 70 CE the Romans finally nudged them aside, destroyed the second Temple and told the Jews to quit the province under pain of death. The actual terms of the sentence forbade Jews from living in Jerusalem until the seventh century CE or until they acquired better geopolitical strategies, whichever came first.

But Fortune finally turned a favorable eye on Jerusalem – if not on the expelled Jews – when Emperor Constantine Christianized the Empire in about 330 CE. His Ma went to Jerusalem seeking the sacred locales of her faith and encountered indigenous tour guides who had been gulling tourists for two centuries. The broad wanted to see The Savior’s grave so they found one. On to Bethlehem. Where was He born? Achmed’s wooden stable wouldn’t do so they found a cave, spread some straw on the floor, installed a manger-thing and convinced the batty old dame that EVERYONE in the immediate vicinity just KNEW that this was the place.

The tired old Persian empire re-took Jerusalem for a brief period, but the Eastern Roman Empire kicked them out after a few years.

Yadda, yadda, yadda. As Rome’s influence in the area diminished, Jerusalem was conquered, surrendered, pillaged, liberated, un-liberated, passed around and occupied by a wide variety of brigands. Anyone with a sword to wield seemed capable of ruling the joint. In 638 CE The Jews of Jerusalem had the great fortune to fall under the control of – wait for it – ARAB MUSLIMS!! The Caliph promised all the contending parties of his newest conquest that their holy sites would be under his protection and everybody was required to play nice.

This happy state of affairs for all concerned was only marred by the Caliph’s decision to build a honking-big mosque on Mt. Moriah to honor the site where Allah whisked Mohammed to Paradise. The Dome of the Rock stands today where the second Temple of the Jews once stood. All that remained was a huge retaining wall – the Western Wall – also incorrectly called the “Wailing Wall”.

Well! The very idea that a clot of dirty-necked Jews and Muslims were living in peace with decent Christians sent European Christianity into a spasm of Crusading. In 1099 they captured Jerusalem and put to the sword every non-Christian within reach. In 1187 Saladin scored one for the Muslims. The Tartars showed up in 1244, butchered the Christians and expelled the Jews (again!). Two years later the Ayyubids took over, only to be ousted by the Mamluks in 1250. The Mamluks defended the city against both Crusaders and Mongol hordes.

In 1517 the Ottoman Turks took over and, so far as we know, kept the carnage to a low boil. With a few gruesome exceptions, Jerusalem knew relative peace for about 400 years. Then the Brits showed up. By 1917 the city was a mixture of Arabs, Jews and Christians who lived together in a tense sort of peace because the various rulers of the city (The Ottomans had been forced out a few time in the previous 400 years) insisted on it. As frequently happens in a place that is relatively peaceful, relatively free and enormously important faith-wise, a lot of different people moved in.

The Limeys ran Jerusalem by virtue of their well-supplied army and in 1922 their armed might was granted a soupcon of legitimacy by the League of Nations, which made the whole of Palestine a British Mandate. The Colonial Office thought it was getting a boffo protective buffer for the east side of the Suez Canal but wasn’t prepared for the degree of hostility they endured until 1948. To begin with, the only things Jews and Arabs could agree on was that they wanted the British to leave so they could annihilate one another without any pesky outside interference.

The United Nations created Israel in 1948 from lands contemporaneously occupied by Palestinian Arabs and Jewish Zionists. The ink wasn’t dry on the U.N. resolution when the new nation’s Arab neighbors fell on it with the intent of undoing with tanks what the U.N. had done with paper. Israel won. They had learned a vital lesson during the Diaspora – people who don’t have their own country find it difficult to defend themselves, as Herr Hitler had proved several years earlier. I’m sure the Palestinians agree heartily.

But this historical examination really doesn’t help us determine the answer to the main question. The Jew’s claim to the turf could be overturned by Jebusites and Canaanites, but they don’t exist anymore. Ditto most of the other people who occupied the place. The folks in Rome, Italy could lodge a claim that is at least as valid as anyone else’s, but they’re not that stupid. Ditto the Turks. Palestinian claims suffer from a lack of U.N. documentation, so it’s kind of a gray area. Historical title searching doesn’t really help.

If we are to arrive at some conclusion as to who actually owns Israel, it might be useful to see what God had to say about it.

Abraham, the original founder of three great religious movements, was told by none other than God Himself that his descendents would some day inherit a land of their own in Canaan. Given that he was in his eighties at the time, Abraham thought that God was having a little joke at his expense, but, sure enough, the old guy fathered not one, but two sons.

Abraham’s wife Sarah was also on in years and thought that God was taunting her. Finally, she told her husband to take her servant, Hagar, as his wife and the old boy knocked her up. Hagar gave birth to Abraham’s first son, Ishmael. Unfortunately, Hagar had a tendency to rub Sarah’s nose in the fact that she had provided their husband with a son and Sarah had not. When Sarah did bear a son, Isaac, the scales seemed to balance, but Sarah was insistent that Ishmael would never supplant Abe’s “real” son Isaac. She told Abraham to get rid of Hagar and her whelp; something Abraham was reluctant to do since he was quite fond of the boy.

But God told Abraham to heed his wife and so Hagar and Ishmael were booted out to wander in the desert. Finally, Hagar was frantic and her son was crying for help. An angel appeared to Hagar and said “What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid; God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Lift the boy up and take him by the hand, for I will make him into a great nation.”

Abraham’s other son, Isaac went on to become one of the three patriarchs of Israel along with dad and his son, Jacob.

So Abraham’s eldest son is regarded by all three religions as the father of the Arabs and his second son, Isaac, is regarded by all three religions as the father of the Israelites.

I submit that God’s plan tells us precisely who owns the Holy Land. It is jointly owned by both Jews and Arabs; the former descended from Isaac and the latter descended from Ishmael. Remember, God told Abraham that his descendents would inherit the land – not just one of them. They did. There they are. Furthermore, God told the Israelites that they should conquer all of Canaan, but the Israelites were too lazy to finish the job and the Canaanite/proto-Arabs retained a redoubt on the coast for the purpose of clouding Israel’s title to this day. That is no accident. Does anyone doubt that God knew the Israelites would slacken?

So there they are, like siblings fighting during the reading of the will. If God Almighty has prophesied and decreed that both should inherit the land, they had better get busy getting along or you-know-Who might just decide to kick them both out and hand the place over to … I don’t know … the Dalai Lama.

FROM THE NATIONAL WELFARE RIGHTS UNION.

At a recent retreat/conference of the NWRU, the following eight position points were drafted and unanimously voted upon. We respectfully submit them to the Presidential Candidates as the foundation on which to start dismantling poverty in the U.S. The National Welfare Rights Union also believes that “8 is enough.”

Well, what is one to make of such an opening statement? The folks at NWRU had themselves a retreat and conference. Their website is mum on the subject of where the retreat was held and who attended, but I suppose we can be certain that the location was probably not Lake Tahoe, Aspen or the Trump Tower in Manhattan. Likewise, the affair was probably not held atop a steam grate in Duluth or a squatter’s loft in Hell’s Kitchen. NWRU’s coyness on the subject allows me to roam freely among many offensive alternatives.

This retreat/conference managed to accomplish something I have never personally observed emerging from any group of more than six people not wearing clerical collars – unanimous agreement on eight points. I must, therefore, conclude that the “retreat and conference” was held in someone’s kitchen, the delegates being seated at a dinette set, and attended by people who all knew one another intimately and were of such like minds that a proposal to invade Mars would have also achieved unanimous approbation.

Before flaying the details, I would also like to know how and when poverty was invented and pieced together, since the eight points are a “foundation” for “dismantling” poverty. An odd locution, that; twenty plus years in the construction industry and I have never needed a foundation for taking something apart.

Here are the points upon which all three “delegates” concurred (remember, I am free to construct the meeting in any way I desire until the NWRU comes clean):

1. All residents of the U.S. will be eligible for a guaranteed annual income to protect them from falling below the poverty level.

My Balderdash Detector informs me that, since the “poverty level” in the United States is an average that rises or falls according to some sort of arithmetical formula derived at by calculating the income of all households, it is, therefore, metaphysically impossible to impress any amount of moolah on any number of “residents” without affecting said average. In the case of the NWRU proposal, the poverty level can only rise, which requires that ever-increasing amounts of shekels are required in order for all residents to somehow emerge above the average, which will increase the requirement, demanding more money, ad infinitum. There is no “average” capable of including everyone. Goal # 1 of the NWRU is existentially impossible.

2. All residents will be eligible for a single-payee health care system funded by the federal government. We oppose private insurance that profits off of the medical conditions of low-income, uninsured people.

The intellectual slovenliness of the three folks who penned this nonsense is vividly apparent in the above. How, pray tell, do private insurance companies profit from the medical conditions of the uninsured? It is, as Rachel says, a quandary. Okay, the NWRU realizes that if it’s going to put a lip-lock on a particular wallet, the government’s is fatter even than that of the pukes who own insurance companies. I always get a chuckle when I see the term “single-payee” system because, in fact, there is no such thing. The “single-payee” is “all of us”

By the way, you may not have noticed the use of the phrase “all residents” in the above demands. It does not mean “all citizens”; it means anyone whose carcass is within the geographical boundaries of the United States of America at any such time as the NWRU program goes into effect and is simultaneously able to fog a mirror. To grossly belabor the obvious, the NWRU has ever cast a covetous eye toward illegal aliens (oops! “undocumented workers”) and whatever electoral prestidigitation they might conjure up. Granting residents the same rights as citizens is akin to allowing your college buddies to not only crash at your pad forever, it also permits them to renegotiate your lease, take the good bedroom and pick which television channel to watch.

3. All children should be eligible for free, quality child care. We also support a living wage for child care providers.

The NWRU trio goofed here. They want all our little babes to wallow in Gatesian splendor without anyone, at any time, under any circumstances, for any reason to actually part with a penny of their own dough. That’s what “free, quality” means. But one of the three examined the first sentence and pointed out that caring for our wee tads has historically been a low-paid occupation for the ample reason that many people are able to do it, but only those with no alternatives choose to do so. Therefore, to add sinew to the skeletal first sentence, he/she said, let us pay these good folks, say … $50,000 per year (once again, the NWRU’s refusal to be pinned down to an actual number permits me to make up one of my own) to endure the unendurable; that is, a roomful of squalling young-un’s for eight-or-so hours per day. Recently-displaced mid-level health insurance executives would, no doubt, jump at the opportunity and its accompanying bucks.

4. All residents will be entitled to education from birth to death. The Headstart Program must be preserved, funding must be increased, and eligibility should be expanded.

What a great idea! Madonna and Brad Pitt can put their recently-adopted children into swell Headstart programs instead of exclusive Beverly Hills private schools. Of course, both families could place their progeny in public schools under current regulations, but, oddly, have opted not to do so. Hmmm. The cause probably lies in the availability of the aforementioned palaces of privilege for the wealthy so, to put teeth into the NWRU proposal, these toney nests for the elect should be shut down posthaste! After all, Headstart will ever be a last-resort option so long as it remains only an option. If we remove all the other options, Headstart will finally achieve its due prominence and lavish funding will surely follow. Note, again, that this restricted “option” will be available to all “residents”.

I can’t speak about other states, but here in Georgia the participants in our state’s lottery scam provide the “to death” provision without any assistance from the NWRU. Any citizen (not “resident”) over the age of 26 can waltz into any institution of higher learning within spitting distance and attend undergraduate classes for free. I’m fairly certain that few of them aim for a career in diaper-changing, bottle-heating and sandbox dynamics, but that $50,000 per annum salary might prove to be a powerful inducement. Except that providing child-care workers with incomes comparable to what we now pay experienced civil engineers, could create a situation where people who should be designing and building waste-water treatment plants might, instead, decide to provide the inputs thereto. The free market has a nasty way of doing things like that when bureaucrats and vaporous-rights advocates hold sway. Once this becomes apparent, the folks at the NWRU will respond by ridding the nursery schools of such tinkers by paying them $300,000 per year to go back into the sewers where their talents are more needed. Unfortunately, local governments, in order to pay these increased salaries, will be forced to impose taxes on the number of coathangers in the closets of residents, including day-care moguls and sewer sachems.

5. All utilities including electricity, natural gas, heating fuels, water, alternative energy, and communications should be properties of the public domain and not subject to privatization. All forms of communication, such as telephones and Internet access should be included.

Yet again the government is to be saddled with the responsibility for providing things to people regardless of how faithful a steward of the public’s monies those people are. Do I get enough “heating fuels” from the “public domain” in February to romp bare-assed in my abode in Fargo? Will someone in California’s central valley be compelled to erect a windmill so that the electricity thus provided will allow me to crank down my thermostat to 40 in Palm Springs and preserve beef hindquarters in my rec room? If not, who is going to catch me in my profligacy and how will they be paid? The NWRU talks blithely about free access to communications such as telephones and Internet access. Pshaw!! I want I-pods, PDA’s, WiFi, Wii, stereo headphones, GPS, Blu-Ray machines, a 55” digital television and 360 channels of television including all the naughty ones. Deny Me? I think not! I am a “resident” of the United States of America and I want my Playboy Channel!!

6. Everyone has a right to a home. It is the duty of the government to provide affordable housing for all residents, and provide periodic maintenance and upgrades. We recommend a permanent moratorium on the demolition of public housing.

Well, I suppose that if I have a “right” to welfare, it only takes a leap of seven or eight places to provide me with a “right” to a home. I’d like a nice little place in downtown San Diego with about 400 acres around me that I can use to display public art projects like ice sculptures of famous Albanian playwrights. Surely, somewhere in the list of “rights” to which I am heir, there includes a “right” to government-supported artistic endeavors to which the general public is granted free admission once they get past the electrified fences and starving, rabid rottweillers. And if the government has a duty to periodically maintain and upgrade the joint, I’d like it to “maintain” the pool so that I don’t have to go out there every day in the heat just to check the chlorine level. It would also be nice if they could relieve me of the drudgery of snagging leaves, bugs and other detritus from the surface, but that is probably asking too much. After all, where is one to draw the line between a legitimate right, such as home and pool maintenance, from initiative-stifling net-wrangling? As a productive member of society, I suppose that this is one chore I ought to handle myself (or else make it a requirement of habitation for my children)

And while they’re “maintaining and upgrading”, how about doing something to “upgrade” my digs by clearing out the riff-raff who live next door (I can see them through my 50X telescope and I recently saw them wearing white shoes after last Labor Day). Why should I, as an “Everyone”, have to endure such a spectacle?

As to the glamour of public housing and the need to retain it, I fully support the NWRU in this matter. Just because I have chosen a 400-acre urban spread does not compel others to do so. By all means, let us retain public housing; if we continue to demolish high-rise public housing, from whence will the next generation of popular music artistes emerge? High culture and art have ever been birthed in low circumstances. The government has an obligation to retain these crime-ridden abodes for the purpose of nurturing the next generation of those who contribute to the higher arts by spending their formative years in … well, not poverty, exactly since that is no longer to be permitted … but at least straightened circumstances. Those circumstances may seem harsh to those who have to actually endure them, but as a breeding ground for future rap and country music impresarios, they have no equal.

7. All forms of mass, rapid transit should be fully accessible (including to those with physical disabilities,) and affordable to all residents in communities across the country. Routes must include access to major transportation hubs with connecting routes in small and large communities.

This is key! I live in Kumquat, Iowa and have just learned (from the government factotum who checks the chemicals in my pool), that the chlorine level is hovering at the questionable point. Furthermore, I have also learned that the tranquilizer darts that allow me to incapacitate the rottweillers long enough for me to make a run for the front gate are also in need of replenishing. Given that the government is run by bloated plutocrats who care not a whit for the sanctity of my childrens’ aquatic well-being, I must get to Rapid City by the time the pool supply and drug emporiums commence business and return to my hovel before my offspring return from the ministrations of highly-paid professionals at Headstart and not be ravaged by sober dogs. High-speed rapid transit allows me to do so. Engineers run the train, conductors clear the tracks ahead and an attentive porter insures that my glass of bubbly is always maintained close to the rim. No doubt they, too, have benefited from the new anti-poverty programs – their whelps are being educated by former civil engineers, their pools are pristine thanks to government programs – one wonders why they bother to drive trains, clear tracks or pour wine. Certainly I don’t demean myself with such trivialities.

8. The Iraq and Afghanistan wars have depleted the American economy with no end in sight. Poor people have disproportionately suffered from the last eight years of these costly deployments physically, emotionally, and financially.
THE NEXT EIGHT YEARS SHOULD FOCUS ON METHODS OF PEACE AND FUNDS SHOULD BE REDIRECTED TOWARD THE ELIMINATION OF POVERTY.

Well, this is just nonsense! As a resident of the United States I enjoy a lifestyle that prohibits me or mine from enduring the rigors of combat. Surely we have outsourced all that unpleasantness to hirelings in India, China and other backwaters. I mean, after all, you’d have to be a damn fool to actually work in the new America. Wogs do all the work! And, speaking of wogs, perhaps we promised the Afghanis that we would not forget them after the Taliban had been eliminated, and perhaps we freed the Iraqis from an unspeakable dictatorship and struggled to help them establish a civil society in the aftermath – who cares? Are they going to educate my children, clean my pool, pour my champagne or speed me to distant places?

To condemn the NWRU program as “socialistic” is a slur on socialism. Nevertheless, as good, socialist heel-clickers, they promote the demise of all private endeavors and wish to cover the land in a goo of government “benefits”.

To the denizens of the left, government is a magical device. It has the ability to provide things like cradle-to-grave education, housing, utilities, health care, transportation and world peace. It can work these miracles because it has an enchanted money tree planted somewhere – perhaps Camp David – from which it can shake greenbacks on a whim. But these are not just ordinary dollars. These dollars can transmogfify themselves into an endless stream of “free” material benefits without anyone being required to produce or provide them.
For the benefits are all material, and the NWRU has nothing to say about where they are to be found or created – they seem to believe that a sawbuck is the same thing as two pounds of ground round. They bring to mind the arguments of pacifists, who wax eloquently on the variety and availability of alternatives to violence, yet name not a one that would beguile any rational person over the age of six.

There is no need to confront this nonsense on the elevated plains of philosophy when ideas of this kind are more easily butchered in the canyons of life’s experiences. For those below the age of twelve, I shall spell it out in annoying detail:

1. The earth does not yield up its riches upon demand. If I want cornbread for my dinner, some sentient being must endure labor to make it possible.

2. The provider of my cornmeal is not a complete idiot and he will demand some recompense for his toil if, for no other reason, that he may survive another day.

3. If I do nothing more than hand him green pieces of paper, he will withhold the fruits of his labor for reasons spelled out in point # 2 above.

4. Unless I seize his cornmeal by force, I will starve and die.

The “government as piñata” economic model has never brought anything but want, need and suffering to human beings. There is no case in human history to suggest otherwise. If the rational processes of the NWRU seem to be flabby and imprecise it is because they are intended to be so. Given that logic and precision only undermine their blather, what other course is open to them?

This is Sonia Sotomayor’s now well-known comment that appellate courts are “where policy is made:”

Apologists for the Honorable Justice insist that the full clip shows she was referring to the distinction between nonprecedental district court decisions and those of appellate courts (which do set precedent). I think that her slightly uncomfortable chuckling about the offhand remark is a tell – she clearly understands that this comment could be brought up again later in her career, and that this could be problematic, regardless of context. The tone of the statement seems remarkably akin to that assumed by most Americans when we assert our intention to voluntarily report all taxable income to the IRS.

Anyway, today’s sound byte is her statement that “the task of a judge is not to make law, it is to apply the law:”

Well, imagine my relief.

I’m of the opinnion that good judges who understand their role can be found in the favor of both parties, and am more than willing to give Sotomayor the benefit of the doubt. However, I can find no way to reconcile these two statements. I have only a limited knowledge of legal philosophy, but I think it is quite evident there is a conflict here. She needs to be grilled on this and forced to explain herself.

As a “wise Latina woman,” I’m sure this will be a piece of cake.

Nevertheless, New York Representative Peter King wants to know if I would let my (hypothetical) child spend time in a room alone with Jackson. The answer is certainly no, but that is due to a general policy I have about not allowing my future progeny to spend any time alone with any adult I don’t know very, very well (call me crazy).

The fact that Jackson might be more likely than other to extend such an invitation means he was a weird guy. I recognize that. However, I also recognize that a child’s testimony is – to put it mildly – of questionable veracity. The fact is that children lie, and for reasons failing to even approach the nobility of those offered by adults: “I would like to stop answering this stupid lawyer’s questions and go play Super Mario Kart” is just one example.

Children like to please adults, so when certain adults with Juris Doctorates pepper them with silly questions about who touched whom, when and where, etc., they tend toward answering in the affirmative, regardless of whether or not their answer is actually true. This seems silly and overly simplistic (and there is little doubt that, once their moral development has advanced significantly, an adolescent will begin lying with much more sophistication and advanced motivation), but it has been scientifically verified.

So chock one up for psychological science’s relevance to current events! You too may now mourn the death of the King of Pop without reservation.

May he rest in peace.

I hate popular music.

Since I met and married Rachel – the Center Of My Universe and the Reason For My Existence – I have been subjected to a particular genre of popular music each morning as she and I drive to some useless location in an effort to rid her pants of ants. I perused the website of Billboard which, I am told, is the popular music business’ commercial compass but was unable to discover the particular genre to which I am subjected each A.M. (morning, not “dial”).

My Beloved’s favorite station touts itself as the “Home of Soft Rock” but Billboard has no such classification. In my youth, radio stations were at leisure to inform their listeners of the title and artist of each presentation, but the competitive nature of modern FM radio must be such that precious air-time cannot be devoted to such trivia, so I am forced to provide you with a list of tunes based on sketchy information.

* Miley Cyrus employs a southern accent to discuss “other mountains” and “uphill rides (?)”.
* Some other female vocalist moans about the fact that she “keeps bleeding”.
* Another female named “Fergie” (I trust this is not the ex-wife of Prince Andrew), informs me that “big girls don’t cry”, something I thought Frankie Valley had already told us.
*A group of men who have assumed the name of a CIA airplane sing that they still haven’t found what they’re lookin’ for.
* Kelly Clarkson is a regular feature, shouting (with a terrific voice) that she is afraid to cross the street, walks away, ponders about her life since you’ve been gone, and has hazel eyes.
* Yet another female asks “how do I live?”
* Some guy repeats, about a billion times, “Say what you mean to say.” Say it, already.

Popular music is trash because it is written, performed and marketed to be disposable. That which we dispose of after use is, by definition, trash.

As an outsider, my impression of the mechanics of the popular music industry is that it is in constant need of fresh material which, once unearthed, is played to extinction on popular music outlets such as radio, which creates the demand for yet more new material. Billboard serves as both midwife to the newborn and undertaker for the recently disposed. Billboard accumulates sales data on a piece of popular music and uses this data to track the health of the song through its charts of rising and falling pieces. What gives the whole process a “chicken or egg” dilemma is this: If radio airtime drives sales and sales drive Billboard and Billboard drives airtime, how does it get started? It is, as Rachel says, a quandary. My theory is that a secret coterie of Illuminati, housed deep within the earth below the Bavarian Alps, picks works of popular music at random and they drive the whole thing.

When a piece of popular music has been played to the point where the mere hint of its opening theme causes drivers to swerve around the road as they desperately punch buttons on their car radios, sales will invariably fall off and the piece will begin its slide into pop oblivion. Sales go down, Billboard lowers the rating of the piece, radio stations give their listeners a break and only play the damn thing sixteen times a day instead of forty, which further depresses sales, etc., etc., etc. Back under Munich, the gnomes rub their hands gleefully and throw another dart.

Now, I confess to be a lover of “Classical Music”. By that I mean the orchestral and operatic masterpieces of the past 400 years. When She Who Is The Light Of My Life was orchestrating our wedding ceremony four years ago, she instructed the deejay to play “classical music” as a token of her love and affection for me (because she loathes the music I love). What we got was an evening of Frank Sinatra, Mel Torme and other lounge singers – that’s what “classic” meant to the r-e-t-a-r-d running the CD player.

More on that anon, but first, here is a five-part test you can conduct on the music you hear on your radio, I-pod, music library, the crap they play in grocery stores and every other enclosed space where people tend to congregate. Tell me if I’m wrong.

1. Musical Time: 99.9% of all popular music is written in standard time, i.e. two or four beats per measure. In the past six months I have heard precisely one melody in three-quarter (three beats per measure) time. By contrast, not only are there plentiful examples of classical music written in other than standard time, some are written in musical times that defy toe-tapping. The opening bars of Tchaikovsky’s “Capriccio Italien” and Wagner’s “Siegfried’s Funeral Music” are both written in something like nine-sixteenths time – difficult to play, but wonderful to hear.

2. Theme: 95% of all popular music has “love” as its theme. Getting it, abusing it, losing it, regaining it, whining about it, missing it, hoping to regain it, dying for it, living for it … in short, everything about love other than cooking it for breakfast. Other thematic elements appear from time to time, such as trucks and prisons (Country-Western) rape and cop-killing (Rap). To my (limited) knowledge, there has not been a strictly instrumental popular piece since “Wipe Out” (‘60’s) and “Classical Gas” (70’s). Contrast this with the bulk of Classical music which contains no lyrics. It’s important in the same way that the Mona Lisa is a superior piece of art than a poster of a daisy with the words “War is unhealthy for children and other living things.” The former demands something of the viewer in order to realize its importance. The latter is a spoonful of Pabulum poured directly into the ears and brain of the observer. It is not important because it was never meant to be so.

3. Instrumentation: 85% of pop music is scored for guitar, bass guitar, keyboard and percussion. There is a good reason for this. Popular music must be as portable as possible, else the coming wave of new artists will never emerge because they’re too busy schlepping around orchestras. These guys have to bust their humps in the minors for many years before the Alpine Seers choose them for stardom, at which point they can go on the road with entourages, roadies, groupies, agents, camp-followers and all the other hangers-on whose purpose seems to be nothing more than to deplete the income of the stars. Their concert appearances are replete with pyrotechnics, light displays, gaudy visual effects, etc. Some performers – Celine Dion comes to mind – perform musical arrangements with a violin or two, perhaps a flute and maybe even a harp. In contrast, consider the piano composition “Pictures at an Exhibition” by Modest Musorgsky. It does an adequate job of presenting its themes, but Ravels arrangement of the piece for a full orchestra – with more than twenty different instruments – is nothing short of magnificent. The “Polish Cart” section features saxophones and they manage to convey this cumbersome beast of a vehicle with amazing accuracy. Various permutations of the “Promenade”, as Musorgsky strolls through the gallery, express the musician’s mood as he views the various pieces painted by his recently-deceased friend. “Pictures” is a minor classic but popular music has yet and never shall produce its equal.

4. Vocal Quality: 70% of the people who yowl the lyrics of pop music have no vocal talent whatsoever. It is remarkable to consider that popular music, which is almost completely lyrical, grants no importance to the quality of the voice(s) which deliver those lyrics. Make it easy on yourself – listen to some really good singers like Celine Dion and Kelly Clarkson.  Afterwards, listen to the vocal quality of almost anyone else purveying their goods in popular music and you should immediately understand my meaning. The truly adventurous should then go on to experience Pavarotti’s rendition of “Nessum Dorma” from Puccini’s opera Tourandot or Maria Callas’ performance of Bizet’s opera Carmen. Some will then understand that the human voice is a musical instrument more difficult to play than any mechanical contrivance found in the orchestra pit.

5. Structure: Perhaps you should pull off the road for this part. 65% of popular music observes the following structure: First refrain, chorus, second refrain, chorus, instrumental interlude, chorus. The percentage is so low because what follows the instrumental interlude can vary considerably. Nevertheless, the marketing requirements of popular music are such that three minutes more-or-less is allotted to each performance before it is crumpled up and disposed of.

Popular music has a half-life of one generation. Testing this theorem requires a minor assumption. For our purposes, we will assert that a generation is whatever number of years has elapsed since you and your parents were in high school. I will use my own family as an illustration. My parents were in high school when big bands and swing music were popular. Only half of my generation appreciates this music (and I count myself among them). I know nothing about what my parents’ parents enjoyed. My son knows a lot about my generation’s music (because he was a brief fan in his pre-adolescence). He is completely familiar with his generation’s music but pays scant attention to swing jazz and absolutely none to what his great-grandparents enjoyed. Once he and his wife provide me with a grandson, the kid will have access to a completely new variety of popular music which will shock his parents just as hip-hop has shocked me. He will abhor mom and dad’s music and appreciate his grandpa’s psychedelic music not at all. Swing? Never heard of it.

By 2064 – 100 years after they broke into the bigs by appearing on The Ed Sullivan Show, the Beatles will be forgotten by that generation. The existence of billions of the Fab Four’s oeuvre immortalized on tapes, L. P.’s, sheet music and C. D.’s will be of negligible consequence because nobody will care.

At the aforementioned wedding between Rachel and my humble self, she selected, as the processional music, Pachelbel’s “Canon in D Major”. Many people would recognize this melody without knowing who wrote it or when because it has the power to soothe frayed nerves and bring about tranquility (something we both needed on that memorable occasion). The composition has no lyrics with which to accomplish its purpose and must rely on the subtleties of harmony, melody, theme, orchestration and contrapuntalism (look it up). The composition is 325 years old – more than three times my estimate of the Beatle’s musical duration, yet hardly a day goes by when some chamber group somewhere does not perform the work to an admiring audience. If anyone can produce a piece of popular music that old (and popular music has been around at least that long), I will eat my hat, tie, shirt and trousers.

Classical music abides despite the fact most of it was created at a time before copyright laws, electronic means of sound reproduction and university professors of “popular culture”. The works of Beethoven, Mozart, Puccini, Wagner, Tchaikovsky and others are timeless because the vision that drove their creators was likewise. It is not the words of Rossini’s “La Centerentola” that makes the opera immortal, it is the music itself. Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, Mahler’s First, Mozart’s 41st, Rachimaninov’s First and Verdi’s “Mass” will live forever because they represent more than any poster-words can ever express. They represent “beauty” which will not tolerate explanation.

I have observed that the lovers of popular music can no more tolerate classical music than the lovers of classical music can abide the popular variety. Each camp describes the music of the other as “boring”. Nevertheless, they are wrong and I am right. I am no slave to research, but I have been able to find only one piece of eighteenth century popular music that continues to be performed on a daily basis. The tune was penned by John Stafford Smith for the amusement of the Anacreonic Society – a British collection of gentlemen of an artistic nature who met from time-to-time to raise their glasses in praise of high culture and good ale. The tune was adopted by an American poet after he witnessed the British bombardment of Fort McHenry in Baltimore harbor in 1814 and his verse was later set to Smith’s music. In 1931 Congress adopted Francis Scott Key’s lyrics, set to the tune of John Stafford Smith’s music, as the National Anthem of the United States of America. Other than this, the popular music of the past is dead and forgotten.

Actually, I would be even happier to see the government abandon recognition of marriage as a specific legal status, and simply recognize contractual obligations between individuals, regardless of their sex. But I’m a realist, and am not holding out for my libertarian utopia to come to fruition.

However, the tactics devised by advocates of same-sex marriage have been nothing short of deplorable, and occasionally brazenly self-serving at the expense of the same-sex couples. With this in mind, I have a few thoughts in the aftermath of the California Supreme Court’s decision regarding Proposition 8.

“Hate” is not the issue. Advocates of same-sex marriage are constantly referring to Prop.8 as an example of “hate”. They’re never specific as to exactly who is doing the hating, but they’re damn sure their use of the term is called for. The lack of specificity when the term is applied leads one to think that a vote for Prop. 8 can be, without further review, automatically attributed to “hate”.  Is it not possible that, in lieu of seething rage toward homosexuals, 52% of Californians are simply reluctant to redefine an institution almost as old as human history itself? Regardless of whether or not this fear enjoys empirical foundation (it does not), we should at least be willing to remove the horns from the heads of Californians who voted in the affirmative.

It’s not a “human rights” issue. Let’s put things in perspective: the killing fields of the Khmer Rouge, female genital mutilation, and Nazi gas chambers are human rights issues. The lack of state recognition of same-sex unions is a tragedy which will be rectified by the gradual evolution of human society. Referring to the latter as a “human rights issue” degrades and defames the victims of true human rights abuses. Even the Universal Declaration of Human Rights – which reads more like a letter to Santa Claus than a legal and philosophical declaration – fails to address the issue of same-sex marriage, probably because its authors could not fathom a world in which such an issue would receive widespread public attention. Obviously, they were wrong (knock-me-over-with-a-feather-and-spill-my-gin).

Equality is the problem, not the solution. Advocates of same-sex marriage are constantly employing “equality” as their rallying cry. This is, I feel, mostly due to the fact that using the term is politically expedient, as it appeals to the left’s growing neurotic obsession with equality as a concept (they’re rarely able to specify exactly what should be equal – only that equality is good and that they’re in favor of it). The irony here is that equality is the problem: the law treats every adult as if they want to marry a member of the opposite sex. That is, it treats everyone equally. Historically, arguments in favor of equality under the law have addressed legally prescribed practices based on a particular attribute (for example, “if you are black, you may not vote”). The exact opposite is the case with same-sex marriage, as all homosexual individuals are afforded the exact same opportunity that is afforded to their heterosexual counterparts: the ability to marry someone of the opposite sex. The problem, of course, is that gays and lesbians don’t want to marry someone of the opposite sex. As such, the problem is that the law does not serve all segments of the population well. Moreover, while Jim Crow laws were deliberately constructed in an effort to specifically address a group (or groups) of people, the opposite-sex definition of marriage is simply an artifact of history. When laws regarding legal recognition of marriage – I assume this can be traced back to English Common Law, but have not done enough research to be sure – the notion of same-sex unions was simply not entertained. It was not until advocates of same-sex marriage sought to strong-arm the American populace into legally redefining what constitutes marriage that idiotic constitutional amendments such as Prop 8 were seen as necessary.

It’s not a matter for the courts. I am trying to post to this blog with greater regularity. As such, I have to resist the temptation to meticulously document every point I make, and will avoid enumerating the countless examples of commentators, journalists, and (dare I say it) academics who have indiscriminately applied the term “lawmakers” to the California Supreme Court, which has received much undue criticism from gay rights activists who were apparently absent from their high school civics class the day the separation of powers was discussed. Had these critics gone to the trouble of actually reading the opinion in question, they would have seen that the court was unhappy with the consequences of its ruling, and did so only out of an obligation to… well… do it’s damn job. The court’s job is to interpret the law, not make it.

Perhaps this is the best lesson for individuals who favor same-sex marriage, myself included: after duking it out in the courts for years, we must ask ourselves, “what hath it profiteth us?” With constitutional and/or statutory bans on recognition of same-sex unions in place in 38 U.S. states, are gays and lesbians better off today than they were before this idiotic crusade began? Would we not have been better off to seek public support first, then a change in the law?

This leads me to a final point about left-wing movements: the moral superiority factor. I have often mentioned my disgust with religiously-motivated, right-wing professions of moral certitude. But those emanating from the left are even more odious. At least Christian conservatives have the decency to base their moralizing on the injunctions of no lesser an entity than God Himself. Those on the left who consider themselves to be morally superior have the audacity to claim that they just know – either that, or they just don’t feel it necessary to explain themselves.

Sorry, friends, but your shit stinks too. It’s high time you wake up and smell it.

Then, get to the task of changing American minds on the subject of same-sex unions.

The story takes place in 1971, which was two years after I graduated from high school in 1969.  Five years earlier, in 1964, I vividly remember sitting in junior high school homeroom for about 45 minutes listening to the school principal as he read the text of the 1964 Civil Rights Act recently passed by Congress and signed by president Lyndon Johnson.  The man read the Act without particular emotion – as though it were something the law required him to do, having no especial meaning for him.  At the conclusion of his address, we went to our usual first-period classes without any discussion.  The school’s administrators may have thought that the subject held no meaning for their charges but, if they did, they were quite mistaken:  we students debated the issue of integration with no less passion (and ignorance) than our elders.  In any event, Robert L. Osborne Junior High School was not suddenly flooded with black students, because all the black students lived within the city limits of Marietta and that city had its own, segregated, school system.

In 1967 the Marietta school system closed the all-black Lemon Street High School and integrated Marietta High School along with the rest of their system.  This was approximately midway through coach French Johnson’s illustrious career as head coach of the Marietta High School football team.  Coach Johnson had a better-than average career leading the Marietta squad up to that time, but with the 1968 season, Marietta High became a football powerhouse.  Given the resources of Lemon Street students previously denied him, Johnson retired in 1972 with a record of 125 wins, 46 losses and 7 ties.  Thats a 70.2 win rate.  Prior to his arrival, the school could only boast a 45% win rate from its founding in 1920 to coach Johnson’s arrival.

The Marietta Blue Devil Marching Band also changed.  Prior to 1968 they were excellent – being one of only two bands in the district capable of playing music and marching at the same time.  Everyone else marched to a drum cadence and performed standing still.  Beginning with the 1968 season, they were fabulous!  They added capes to their uniforms.  Their drum major was a vision of the future Michael Jackson.  They didn’t just march, they STRUTTED across the field, leaning back and forward in time with the funky music they performed.  They didn’t just lift their legs while marching, they kicked and bobbed and flung their capes in a spectacular display.  Obviously, someone else was also taking advantage of the new talent pool from Lemon Street.

And the community changed.  For years after 1968, black and white students at Marietta High segregated themselves within their integrated environment.  But after the first integrated class graduated in 1970 that began to break down bit-by-bit as new arrivals paid less-and-less attention to the racial divide.  That racial divide began to transform into the more usual cliques in high school society.  Jocks stayed with jocks, social climbers with social climbers, shoppies with shoppies and nerds with nerds.  If you took a photograph of the Marietta fans in Northcutt stadium on Friday nights over the years, what you would see in 1968 was black fans sitting with black fans and white fans sitting with white fans.  Over time, that snapshot would slowly evolve until now, it doesn’t matter.  Everyone sits wherever they like and the race of the person next to them is superfluous because they are all there to support the Blue Devils.

High school football is a serious business in the deep south.  It is followed in the local press by fans who pack the local stadiums on Friday nights.  Citizens debate the virtues of individual players without reference to race.  In the final analysis, if a kid makes a great play, it matters not to the local fans if he is white or black – he is OUR kid, playing for OUR team.  When a true sports fan waxes eloquently on some player’s athletic virtues or faults, race is NEVER an issue worth considering.

Not mattering is the key to racial harmony.  I lived for several years in the central Georgia town of Cordele, deep in the black-belt.  The city council was comprised of black Democrats and white Republicans and they argued among themselves in the unseemly manner we have all come to expect from politicians.  But they were in solid and fraternal agreement that Cordele’s football team could whip any other team in their division.

Midway through Remember the Titans, the local peckerwoods heave a brick through coach Boone’s living room window.  Several weeks later, after securing a place in the division championship series, Boone returns home and he and his family are greeted warmly by their previously aloof neighbors.  Obviously, there’s a bit of theatrical telescoping involved here, but the point is justified nevertheless.  It didn’t matter that coach Boone had integrated the football team.  It didn’t matter that he had supplanted the previous (white) head coach.  It didn’t matter that he and his family lived in the “white” part of town.  What mattered was that he had built a winning football team and lead it from triumph to triumph.  Had he failed to do that, I have no doubt that his race would have been a prominent feature in the local discussions regarding his failure.

If not mattering is the key to racial harmony, then sports is the perfect place to find it because, in the grand scheme of things, sports does not matter.  I’m no fan, but I can still appreciate the awesome skill of Michael Jordan in basketball and the fielding wizardry of Andruw Jones in baseball.  A joke circulated several years ago and I remember it only imperfectly.  It went something like this:  “There is something seriously wrong in the world when the greatest golfer is black, the best basketball player is Chinese, the most popular rap artist is white and …” (I don’t remember the fourth element).  The first phrase is intentionally wrong.  What the joke means is that some things are becoming seriously right.