Congo Square

Congo SquareIn 1724, when New Orleans was ruled by France, the Code Noir became law throughout Louisiana. The Code Noir established Sunday as the day that all inhabitants could take the day off each week, thus extending to enslaved Africans the privilege. This right continued under Spanish and American rule of New Orleans. The day became known as “free day” and Africans and their descendants gathered on Sunday afternoons in numerous locations in the city. However, in 1817 a city ordinance confined free and enslaved Africans to one gathering place. That place was a public space in the “back of town” known as Congo Square.

A person by the name of Henry Knight visited New Orleans in 1819 and wrote that Africans met in Congo Square on the Sabbath and “rocked the city with their Congo dances.”[1] At times over 500 people gathered in the Square and danced, drummed, clapped, and sang in traditional African celebrations. Apparently Sundays were quite noisy in New Orleans on Sundays, though “noise” might not be the correct word. These celebrations continued until ten years before the city was occupied during the Civil War. Africans and then their descendent met at Congo Square, participated in African religious rituals, sang in their own languages (of course), and played musical instruments from their home lands. In time influences from Haiti and Cuba melded with African traditions and musical styles evolved until one could recognize a particular New Orleans style. If you are looking for the origins of New Orleans jazz, many insist you must go back to Congo Square to find it. The square was also the site of African markets where people bought and sold items they gathered, hunted and made. The square will forever be associated with African  Heritage and culture in New Orleans[2].

Congo SquareCongo Square is still there, now part of Louis Armstrong Park, 32 acre area in Treme which also includes the Mahalia Jackson Theater for the Performing Arts, the New Orleans Municipal Auditorium and part of the New Orleans Jazz National Historical Park. I find Armstrong Park to be a very pleasant place to visit, and have been there during a jazz festival which included some great food. However, I have been told while sitting in the Treme Coffeehouse that the building of the park was quite controversial and included the removal of houses that had been homes to people in Treme for generations. Also, the park is surrounded by a large fence that is locked in the evening thus making it unusable for local people who work during the day.

Congo SquareWhen I have visited the park, I was never sure where Congo Square begins and ends, but was certain when I was standing in the Square itself. Today there are two huge and beautiful Sycamore trees in the Square. I did my best to find out if the those two tress were present when enslaved and later free Africans gathered, sang, danced, and  worshipped in the Square. No one seemed to know, which probably means I didn’t ask the right person or read the right source. However, I did discover that Sycamore trees can live from two to four hundred years, so I like to think they were there. More than once I have stood under the trees and tried to imagine a Sunday afternoon and evening a long time ago. I was not very good at traveling back in time and “feeling” the presence of the gatherings. It is not that I am incapable of having transcending experiences when the linear nature time dissolves and for a brief moment you find yourself existing out of time.[3] It has happened to me on a square in Newcastle upon Tyne, England and at a supermarket in California. It has happened to me on a small boat on the Ganges and sitting on a mountaintop at dusk in Montana. It almost happened to me while walking in the “slave holes” in the slave castle at Cape Coast, Ghana. But it did not happen to me standing in the dust of Congo Square. I have wondered if my inability to transcend time in Congo Square has something to do with the fact that my people were the slavers, not the slaves. Perhaps. But I must say, however, that Congo Square did not make me feel unwelcome.

Congo SquareCongo SquareCopyright © 2016 Dale Rominger

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[1] Anku, Willie. “Principles of Rhythm Integration in African Drumming”, Black Music Research Journal 17, no. 2 (Autumn 1997: 211-238.

[2] If you are interested in reading a good book about Congo Square I recommend: Evans, Freddi Williams. Congo Square: African Roots in New Orleans. University of Louisiana at Lafayette Press: Lafayette, 2011.

[3] Of course I realize that “a moment” is in time, but I don’t know how else to say it.

Anglican Communion Embraces Its Dark Side

On January 14, 2016 the Anglican Communion suspended the Episcopal Church U.S. from voting and decision making on both doctrine and polity for three years. The Communion stated that the Episcopal Church had lost its “vote” but not its “voice”, meaning it was demoted to observer status. The Episcopal Church will not be allowed to represent the Communion on interfaith and ecumenical bodies or dialogues. It cannot serve on the Standing Committee of the Anglican Consultative Council. It cannot vote at the Anglican Consultative Council. The punishment, called consequences by the Communion, was a result of The Episcopal Church supporting marriage equality. To read the Communion’s official statement click here. 

The movement to punish the Episcopal Church was led by the Global Anglican Future Conference (GAFCON) which holds regressive, if not oppressive, attitudes and practices toward the LGBT community. Members of GAFCON include bishops from six African countries as well as bishops from Australia, England, the United States, and India. While this is a diverse group I think it is fair to say that the momentum for GAFCON opposition to the LGBT community comes from the African churches. In some thirty-four African countries LGBT people can be imprisoned for years and in some countries for life. Uganda made the news when it legalized the execution of LGBT people, only to backtrack when the international community protested, and in some cases threatened to withdraw financial aid. Now in Uganda being gay or lesbian will only get you life imprisonment. In all these countries the Christian church has been strong supporter of and advocates for such legislation.

Before the gathering in London, GAFCON members had threatened to walk out if they did not get their way, thus causing the much feared break-up of the Anglican Communion. At the heart they wanted the Episcopal Church to be expelled from the Communion until it repented[1]. As such we are asked to view the suspension as a noble compromise. In the end only Archbishop Stanley Ntagali of Uganda walked out of the meeting. Ntagali moved a resolution on the second day of the gathering that said the Episcopal Church should voluntarily withdraw from the meeting and other Anglican Communion activities until it repented. The Episcopal Church refused and the Archbishop walked out.

I have a four simple statements that encapsulate the decision taken in Canterbury, but let’s be clear about what happened. This was not about who we invite to dinner. It was the church aligning with a faction that calls for the imprisonment, and in some cases, the execution of people in the LGBT community. No amount of faith language and referencing Jesus can hide the nastiness of this decision. Bishop Josiah Idowu-Fearon, from Nigeria and the secretary general of the Anglican Communion said the Western Churches should stay out of African moral debates. The irony of his statement is interesting, to say the least, given he and his fellow Africans lead the way in suspending a Western church for moving forward in its moral debate. It seems Idowu-Fearon would be happy for the churches in the Communion to let each other get on with their lives in their respective countries as long as Western churches do what he thinks is right.

My four simple statements:

1. As is often the case, those who threaten to break and destroy get their way, while those who are punished remain.
2. It is almost always the case that church unity proves more important than justice.
3. It gets real old real fast when oppressors asks for understanding and forgiveness from those they oppress even as they continue their oppression.
4. The decision was an repudiation of the Enlightenment values upon which our Western societies are built. (Liberal churches in the West are largely what they are because of the Enlightenment, sometimes dragged kicking and screaming into a more human place. Fundamentalist churches in the West embrace a selective opposition[2] to Enlightenment values and often do so overtly. The Anglican Communion’s decisions regarding the dignity and rights of LGBT people and marriage equality oppose Enlightenment values and are out of step with Western society.)

Finally, one of the most embarrassing moments in this entire fiasco happened when the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, apologized to the LGBT people for the pain inflicted upon them by the church. Bottom line: Sorry, but deal with it because church unity is more important than your suffering, even if that means your brothers and sisters being imprisoned for life.

Copyright © 2016 Dale Rominger

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[1] It was hoped that the Episcopal Church would either repent, which means ends its support and inclusion of LGBT people and marriage equality, or voluntarily expel itself.

[2] I say “selective opposition” because while fundamentalist Christians in the West oppose, for example,  human rights for certain people, they are happy to embrace their freedom to speak, to assemble, to protest, as well as their medical care, flying to nice places on holiday, watching their wide flat screen HD TV, etc.

To Weep in Winter

Sex, Fingers and Death as told in Yana. The Yana people live in Northern California in the central Sierra Nevada Mountains.

Coyote: To Weep in Winter

I had one of those moments sitting in the living room by the sliding glass door to the back garden. I was reading a book called A Coyote Reader by William Bright. Coyote is a character in Native American mythology and storytelling, and is still alive and well today. In Native American religion Coyote, sometimes called Old Man Coyote, is one of the First People Who survived the coming of human beings; the First People were a race of beings who lived before we came along. They were god-like, but often in the myths they worked with The Creator. They had tremendous power and, working with The Creator, created the World as we know it, including our human life and culture. But with the coming of human beings the First People were replaced and transformed into the things of the world: rocks, trees, plants, animals. Thus Native Americans refer to the First People as Nighthawk, Beaver, Coyote and so on.

Listen to this contemporary Native American poem, A Song for the First People:

When you learned that human beings were coming, you changed into rocks,
Into fish and birds, into flowers and
rivers in despair of us.
The tree under which I bend may be you,
That stone by the fire, Nighthawk swooping
And crying out over the swamp reeds, reeds themselves.
Have I held you too lightly all my mornings?
I have broken your silence, dipped you up
Carelessly in my hands and drunk you, burnt you,
Carved you, slit your calm throat and danced on your skin,
Made charms of your bones. You have endured,
All of it, suffering my foolishness
As the old wait quietly among clumsy children.
Now others are coming, neither like you nor like men.
I must change, First People. How do I change myself.
If no one can teach me the long will of Cedar,
Let me become Water Dog, Betterroot, or Shut Beak.
Change me. Forgive me. I will learn to crawl, stand, or fly
Anywhere among you, forever, as though among great elders. [i]

In the Native American understanding of reality life is endowed with the spirit of the First People. Coyote is one of the First People who lives on in human form. In mythologies and stories Coyote is a Glutton, Lecher, Thief, Cheat, Outlaw, Spoiler, Loser, Clown, Survivor, and perhaps most of all, a Trickster. He embraces all the goodness and evilness of human beings. Most importantly here, it was Coyote who introduced Death into the human experience.

On the day I was sitting by the sliding glass door the weather outside was cloudy with a light rain falling. My mood, perhaps my spirit, mirrored the weather. I was troubled, though I don’t remember why. I was in one of those, pondering moods, perhaps best left on my own. I was reading a Coyote myth entitled Sex, Fingers and Death. Coyote is speaking to three creators - Cottontail, Gray Squirrel and Lizard, who are, of course, First People:

Coyote said,/"I don't like people to be so many.
"The women are very many,
the men are very many everywhere,
the children are very many everywhere.
"The people don't die,/they just get old.
"There's no poisoning by magic,
there's nobody to weep in winter,"/so he said.[ii]

As I read those last two phrases I stopped realizing intuitively the myth was not just going to be about the death of our bodies, but would be telling of the introduction of poisoning and weeping into life, the things of death. Two things happened when I began pondering the reasons we human beings choose death, death being the desire to poison life: in negative assumptions about others, in lying, in hardness of heart, in hatreds, in racism (well, all the isms), in forced poverties, in injustices, in creating weapons of destruction, in destructive conflicts between individuals, tribes and nations. The list is seemingly endless. But, and I kid you not, as all this poison was flowing through my mind and into my heart, the sun broke through the clouds and for a moment the greyness lifted, the sky brightened and warmth came through the sliding glass door unto the back garden. Despite myself, I began to feel lighter as well, and of course warmer. My spirit, despite itself, lifted and life was becoming somehow good, or at least better than it had seemed only moments before. I thought - well actually wondered because the power of poison should never be underestimated – could it be possible that despite everything my, our, natural response is to choose life, to feel good, think well of others, to do justice, show compassion and to seek peace. Could it be that there is such a thing we might call a natural ethic of life, and if so, why do we seek to weep in the winter. I read on:

The Creators said there would be no death, but Coyote persisted. Then the Creators said there would be death, but people would raise to life again on the fourth day, that a sense that life would prevail. Coyote argued:

Why should they come back to life?
When they die, they'll die.
When people die we'll weep.
People will weep,
when their brother dies,
when their sister dies,
when their child dies.[iii]

Coyote wins the day and when “the rain turned to snow” and a man was poisoned and died. However, and interestingly, “the people did not weep” because they did not yet know about the ways of death. The man was buried in a shallow grave, but “he did not like death” and started to move in his grave.

He was about to come back to life,
he who had died.
Coyote was looking at him,
he kept on watching.
The dead man came up this far from the grave.
Coyote jumped up,
Coyote jumped on the dead man,
he pushed him down in the earth.
"Die!" said Coyote.
Coyote raised his foot,
he did like this,
he forced the dead man down with his foot.
"Why are you coming back to life?
" Die! Die!"
So he did,
forcing him down with his foot.
And the people said nothing against it.
Coyote looked at the grave and/nothing moved.
Truly, the man was now dead for good.
"Now!" said Coyote,
"Cry! weep!
"Now the man is dead,
now we will never see him again.
"Come on!
Put on white clay for mourning!
Come on! Smear your faces with pitch!"[iv]

The clouds covered the sun again and I was cold again. My heart sank with the image life trying to come out of the grave only to be stumped back into its whole. Forgiveness fighting its way out of the grave. Love and understanding, justice and peace, communion and community, hopes and dreams, joys and embraces, new beginnings and new life, all fighting up from the grave only to be beaten back. Misunderstanding and lies, angers and hatreds, division and conflicts, despair and alienation, sorrows and coldness, all stamping life into the grave. An almost desperately choosing death, which sitting in the cold seemed more natural than an ethic of life. Everyone shouting:  Now Cry, Now Weep, Now Mourn. This desire for poisoning and weeping. However, the story does not end there. The Creators made a rattlesnake and put it the path of Coyote's young son. Young Coyote is killed.

"Your child is dead,"
so said all the people.
Coyote wept and danced with grief.
He put dirt on his face and
acted like a crazy man.
The People brought young Coyote
back home.
Coyote said, "Friends," speaking to the Creators.
"Friends, you said people should come
back to life, after they die.
"I don't like weeping so much.
"Make him come back to life!"
"Weep, weep!" said the Creators.
"You said people would cry.
"Weep! weep!"Put white clay on your face,
Put pitch on your face!
"You said people would weep,
So weep."[v]

It is a story about why we are so hell-bent on choosing Death and Destruction over Live and Creativity. It is also a morality tale reminding us that ultimately poison is not selective, that death leads to weeping for all.

Copyright © 2016 Dale Rominger

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[i] Wagoner, David. Who Shall Be the Sun? Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1978, p. 14.

[ii] Bright, William. A Coyote Reader. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993, pp. 107-108.

[iii] Ibid., p. 113.

[iv] Ibid., pp. 114-115.

[v] Ibid., pp. 116-117.

Hermeneutics and the Half Empty Glass

The new year has arrived and I suspect most people are hoping 2016 will be better than 2015, while some believe it actually will be (they probably can’t help themselves). However, those of us whose glasses are always half empty, while not without hope, are nonetheless doubtful any major redemption in prospects will occur.

Whenever I’m asked if my glass is half empty or half full I say, "Glass! What glass? Where the hell did you get a glass?"

My wife’s glass isn’t half full, it’s always overflowing, so you can imagine it took some time for us to come to terms with our contrasting perspectives. Peace was accomplished when we, after extended negotiation, came to the agreement that neither perspective is entirely wrong or entirely right. Both have their merits.

Whether it was the cause of nature or nurture, or both, ever since I can remember there has always been a “but” in my life.[1] My mom says, “It’s a beautiful morning,” and I respond, “But it might rain this afternoon.” My wife says, “The Paris climate change accord is a great step forward,” and I respond, “But it all depends on follow through, which is doubtful.” I say to myself, “I have a wonderful home,” and respond to myself, “But millions of people are living in abject poverty.”

I realize that this “but” and my half empty glass can be quite annoying to some people. I suspect more than a few people have unfriended me on Facebook! However, my interpretation of experience leads me to believe it is a sensible technique for maneuvering my way through life. It dawned on me a long time ago that my “but” and my glass are not signs of negativity but evidence that I embrace a hermeneutic of suspicion and always have.

The term “hermeneutic of suspicion” was first coined by the philosopher Paul Ricoeur in his work on interpreting texts. In general “hermeneutics” is the theory of interpretation and began with the interpretation of biblical texts. Since the nineteenth century the term and methodology have been expanded to include the interpretation of all texts, including literary fiction, pop songs, legal documents, etc.

Ricoeur was uncomfortable with, indeed suspicious of, the notion that we the reader are capable of discerning the intentions of the author, especially if the author has been dead for some time. He thus wanted to ground his interpretation in objectivity, rather than in a subjective reading of an author’s intentions. In other words, he wanted to ground his understanding in the text itself, not in the author’s mind. He believed that the text will guide us to its correct truth, though it is imperative to appreciate that “the truth” could include a range of possible understandings. However, while there may be many true interpretations of the text, there is not an unlimited number of valid interpretations. And because there may be a range of possible truths, but not an unlimited number of truths, it is important to proceed with a healthy dose of suspicion. Ricoeur argued that we had to remain open to what the text is saying to us, which he believed could and would lead us to its truth. He wrote, "Hermeneutics seems to me to be animated by this double motivation: willingness to suspect, willingness to listen; vow of rigor, vow of obedience."[2] In a nutshell: be suspicious and be open; remain disciplined and respectful.

As the term and methodology moved from biblical texts to all texts, it has also moved from textual analysis to the areas of cultural, social, anthropological, feminist, theological studies, etc.[3] In cultural and perhaps particularly in feminist interpretations, the methodology demands we are suspicious of the dominant culture, politics, status quo. A theological hermeneutic of suspicion states that all aspects of God’s good creation can become bad, to put it extremely simply.[4] So, borrowing from Ricoeur’s textual methodology, we must be suspicious of human thought, practice, traditions, behaviors and be open to what they can tell us. We must be disciplined and, as far as possible, objective, while at the same time resepecting, again as much as possible, that which we study. In other words, always have a "but" ready and never trust that the glass is full. It may just be a matter of perspective which hides a deeper meaning and truth.

I had no way of knowing it, but as a child I embraced a hermeneutic of suspicion. It’s the “but.” It’s the half empty glass. It’s the best way I can survive the journey of life. It is not negativity or negation. It’s suspicion. It is not hopelessness. It is suspicion. It’s not the denial of sunshine. It’s the steadfast refusal not to forget or ignore that dark clouds have gathered somewhere.

Admittedly, an all embracing hermeneutic of suspicion is a challenge to maintaining a steady state of happiness. Still, I’m comfortable with who I am. Those who find me unbearable can always unfriend me, though I bet they wouldn’t mind having me around if those dark clouds are gathering around themselves.

Copyright © 2016 Dale Rominger

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[1] Years ago my father told me that my mother endured hours of labor during my birth. At one point the doctor came to him and asked him to choose either his wife or his unborn child. He became angry and demanded both, for which I am extremely grateful. I do wonder, however, if my reluctance to enter this world has something to do with my glass perspective. It is worth noting that even though I began life reluctantly I am not eager to leave it.

[2] Ricoeur, Paul, Freud and Philosophy: An Essay on Interpretation (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1970), 27.

[3] Often people utilizing a hermeneutic of suspicion treat the cultural, social, or theological area of study as if it were a text.

[4] Even love if an obsession becomes a negative.

Relevance

In an effort to assure that my blog is always contemporary and relevant...

                                                                              There, that should do it.

A Christmas Carol Revisited

Scourge had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence Principle, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless us, Every One!

One of the saddest events in popular culture is the continual distortion of a great literary character through the romanticizing of Tiny Tim, transforming him into a sentimental, sweet character, whom we can first pity and then exploit, using him like a sponge to soak up our spilt Christian goodness. In fact, Tiny Tim is one key to "Keeping Christmas well”.

Charles Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol in 1843, the first of five "Christmas Books" written from 1843 to 1848. In each book a central character suffers from a loss of faith in human dignity, but is eventually brought to realize the value of human spirit. The transformation each character goes through, and we must call it a transformation and not simply a change of mind or even heart, is accomplished through spirit intervention, or in other words, by spiritual means. In the preface to A Christmas Carol, Dickens wrote he hoped the story would "Awake some loving and forbearing thoughts, never out of season in a Christian land." In fact, he wrote the story because, in his opinion, "Keeping Christmas well" was out of season all the time. Dickens' ultimate hope was, of course, that through the power of his narratives the reader would, like the main characters, be transformed as well.

A Christmas Carol is not about a sweet little crippled boy, but instead is about the social conditions of Dickens' Britain. The story had (and still has) a strong social message. In and through the story, Dickens was appealing in general to the people of Britain to lead less selfish lives, and in particular to the rich to take seriously their duty of care for those less fortunate. He had visited Cornish tin mines early in 1843 and saw children laborers at work. He visited the Field Lane Ragged School in London, one of several institutions trying to educate hungry and illiterate children. After these experiences, he wrote A Christmas Carol in six weeks. During the writing of the "hymn" he said in a letter that he "wept and laughed and wept again...and in thinking walked the black streets of London...when all sober folks had gone to bed". In fact, the magic and mystery of his literary hymn exhibited a "strange mastery" over him, but a mastery of joy and love which he was impatient to return to each working day.

Dickens had a lot to weep and laugh about. For years the poor had not only been neglected by society, but also lived under the burden of a social philosophy and political policies that actually justified that neglect. In 1803 Thomas Malthus wrote the essay entitled Principle of Population. In it Malthus argued that any human being that could not be supported by his or her parents, and could not provide labor that was useful and required by society, had "no claim or right to the smallest portion of food." He went on to say that such people also had "no business" even being in society and that their death would "decrease the surplus population."

When society refuses people food, shelter, and work, there is only one place for them to go, or to be, and Scrooge, the character representing the Malthusian position, had no difficulty in saying precisely where or what that place was -- death. Scrooge, of course, had no time for the celebration of the child of salvation. For him Tiny Tim, whose parents could not support him and whose ill health made it impossible for him to become a good laborer for society, could simply die. When just before Christmas Scrooge was asked to make a contribution to help provide for the "Poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present," people in the thousands lacking common necessities and in the hundreds of thousands wanting common comforts, he responded:

"Are there no prisons?"
"Plenty of prisons," said the gentleman laying down his pen again.
”And the Union Workhouses?" demanded Scrooge. Are they still in operation?"
"They are. Still," returned the gentleman, "I wish I could say they were not."
"The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then? said Scrooge.
"Both very busy. sir."
"Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course," said Scrooge. "I'm very glad to hear it."

The gentlemen, not giving up, explained to Scrooge that such provisions hardly "furnished Christmas cheer of mind or body to the multitudes" and that they were collecting funds to give the poor "meat and drink, and a means of warmth." But again Scrooge refused to give saying he wished to be left along. He then said, in full Malthusian passion:

"I don't make merry myself at Christmas and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned--they coast enough; and those who are badly off must go there."
"Many can't go there; and many would rather die."
"If they would rather die," said Scrooge, they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population."

Hope and warning are powerfully told when Scrooge met the Spirit of Christmas Present. As the evening passed the Spirit took Scrooge to homes where they stood beside the bedsides of the sick who, nonetheless, were cheerful. They visited those who struggled and were still living in great hope. They visited those who lived in poverty and were rich in spirit. And they visited the almshouses, hospitals, prisons where people experienced misery but had not "made fast the door and barred the Spirit out" thus allowing him to enter their misery and give the gift of blessing.

As the long night unfolded before him, time and space seemed to lose meaning for Scrooge, except that he noticed the Spirit was growing visibly older. He asked if life was so short for all spirits and the Spirit replied that his life would end that very night at midnight. As the chimes rang three quarters past eleven, with death approaching, hope turned to warning. Scrooge saw something in the folds of the Spirits clothing...

"Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask," said Scrooge, looking intently at the Spirit's robe, "but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw?"

"It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it," was the Spirit's sorrowful reply. "Look here!" exclaimed the Ghost. "They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.”

Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.

"Spirit! are they yours?" Scrooge could say no more.

"They are Man's," said the Spirit, looking down upon them. "And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!" cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand toward the city. "Slander those who tell it ye! Admit if for your factious purposes, and make it worse. And abide the end! “Have they no refuge or resource?" cried Scrooge.” Are there no prisons?" said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. "Are there no work-houses?"
The bell struck twelve.

Dickens speaks with passion and power about the Spirit of Salvation. He sings the Spirit's blessings, for where he visits there is health, joy, home, and hope. Where the Spirit smiles, needs are met and comforts are offered. Dickens does not, however, sentimentalize the vision, for wrapped within the very clothing of the Spirit is the misery caused by human thought and deed. We shutter when we realize that the grotesque monsters revealed are the results of human exploits. We reel at the devils before us are in fact human beings and, once again, children. We desperately reach for a self-defense, any self-defense, when we are reminded that such human suffering belongs not to God but to us. We ache when we see how the suffering cling to the Spirit and look upon us with fear.

Perhaps it is time we re-read Dickens. If we were to "keep Christmas well" we would experience the wholeness of salvation's blessings. We would be filled with joy and pierced through the heart. In this world, both must be ours.

A Christmas Carol Scrooge ends with these words:

Scourge had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence Principle, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless us, Every one!

 Copyright © 2015 Dale Rominger

Political Rhetoric After Colorado Springs

To most Republicans, and I suspect not a few Democrats, Planned Parenthood is a baby killing machine that sells baby body parts to the highest bidder. The Republican Party has been targeting Planned Parenthood for years through impassioned rhetoric and attempts to defund the organization. The motivation for this assault is, of course, the fact that Planned Parenthood provides abortions.

Planned Parenthood has also been under attack by members of the public resulting in numerous arson attacks and the murdering of doctors, nurses, and patients. I assume the murdering of Planned Parenthood staff is to prevent the perceived murdering of fetuses by that staff. The embrace of violence and killing as a strategy for bringing about political, social, and culture change has always been, and always will be, plagued with contradiction and hypocrisy. Nevertheless, I live in a country where medical clinics must have safe rooms and attack procedures to protect patients and staff from assault. This is normal in the United States of America. Since 1977, there have been eight murders, 17 attempted murders, 42 bombings, 186 arsons and thousands of other incidents, including vandalism, according to the National Abortion Foundation, a trade group for abortion providers. 

For the record these are the medical services provided to millions of women and men by Planned Parenthood:

• STI/STD Testing and Treatments
• Contraception
• Cancer Screening and Prevention
• Pregnancy Test and Prenatal Services
• Family Practices Services Adoption Referrals
• Urinary Track Infection Treatment
• Sex Education
• Abortion Services

I encourage you to click these two links to better understand what Planned Parenthood does for millions of people: Planned Parenthood and Planned Parenthood By The Numbers.

I’m sure most of you know that Colorado Springs Planned Parenthood was attacked by a man carrying an assault rifle. I live in a country where weapons suitable for warfare are easily purchased by almost anyone. This is normal in the United States of America. Three people were killed and nine wounded in the Colorado Springs attack. In court Robert Dear confess to the killings saying, “I’m a warrior for babies”.

For weeks Republican presidential candidates have been attacking Planned Parenthood, accusing the organization of selling body parts based on a video claiming to show staff harvesting body parts from a living fetus. The veracity of the video has been undermined, but my point here is not to debate the truth or falsehood of the video. I’m interested in the political rhetoric and its impact.

Four candidates stand out from the pack when considering the recent GOP attacks on Planned Parenthood: Donald Trump, Carly Fiorina, Ted Cruz, and Mike Huckabee. Carly Fiorina is, perhaps, most closely associated with this issue, having made it a centerpiece of her performance in one of the GOP presidential debates. Her words were harsh and her demeanor and tone angry. Whether or not she was actually angry or simply feigning anger isn’t important here. Her rhetoric could only be interpreted as angry by the people listening to her.

After the woundings and killings in Colorado Springs, Planned Parenthood accused some of the GOP candidates of contributing to the creation of a “toxic environment” that provoked the attack. Dawn Laguens, Planned Parenthood Executive Vice President, wrote, “It is offensive and outrageous that some politicians are now claiming this tragedy has nothing to do with the toxic environment they help create…” She accused Donald Trump and Carly Fiorna of using the attack to repeat false claims about Planned Parenthood. Laguens continued, “One of the lessons of this awful tragedy is that words matter, and hateful rhetoric fuels violence. It’s not enough to denounce the tragedy without also denouncing the poisonous rhetoric that fueled it. Instead, some politicians are continuing to stoke it, which is unconscionable.”

Understandably, the GOP candidates defended themselves, as any politician would. Fiorna called the fuss “typical left-wing tactics”. In one way or another the candidates disassociated their political rhetoric from the violent attack on Planned Parenthood in Colorado Springs. While Laguens said “words matter” and clearly linked the political rhetoric to the attack, the candidates themselves denied any link exists. So what is the point of political rhetoric if there is no link between what a politician says and how their listeners perceive reality and act?

If you google “rhetoric” you will get:

The art of effective or persuasive speaking or writing, especially the use of figures of speech and other compositional techniques. Oratory, eloquence, command of language. Language designed to have a persuasive or impressive effect on its audience. 

Do politicians seek to effect and persuade? Do they want to impressively effect an audience through their rhetoric? Of course they do. If they do not, why do they speak at all? And if not, how do they understand political leadership? In this case, if the GOP candidates’ political rhetoric lead to the overwhelming desire of the people of Colorado to shut down Planned Parenthood in their state, I suspect the candidates would not hesitate to claim their words were effective and responsible for the closing of the clinics. However, the candidates deny that their rhetorical attacks on Planned Parenthood are responsible for the physical attack in Colorado Springs. After all, no one actually said people should talk an assault rifle and shoot people.

While that is true, political rhetoric is less about spelling out policy details and giving instructions for particular actions and is more about creating a mood, a movement, or as Laguens said, an environment. If you continually attack an organization it seems a bit disingenuous to be shocked if someone actually does attack the organization. If you declare a certain people are criminals and rapist, you should not be overly surprised if your listeners hate and act against those people. If you say people holding a particular religion should be banned from the country because they are dangerous…well, you get the idea. Language has power. If you portray an organization as a baby killing machine, you can inspire someone to try and put a stop to it.

Action in the world can be seen as the fulfillment or completion of rhetoric. Political leadership is about leading people in one direction or another.

When a politician's words lead to violence, the politician will deny any link between his or her words and people’s attitudes and actions. If on the other hand they lead to attitudes and actions acceptable and desirable to the politician, he or she will claim the credit. The only way to stop a particular candidate is to protest and vote. It is the only want to hold them accountable.

Copyright © 2015 Dale Rominger

Life in Internetland: An Update

I thought it might be interesting to catch you up on what is happening to me in Internetland. Those of you who read Café Talk on a somewhat regular basis might remember that I hooked up with a social media consultant last year. One of the things she stressed was that I needed to “build my Twitter platform”, her words not mine. The reason is simple. Twitter is about big numbers. Whenever you tweet something, approximately 1% of your followers are on line and maybe 1% of those actually read the tweet. If you want to engage people in your writing or business, you need a lot of followers. Simple.

As I write this I have 17K followers on Twitter. That’s a good start. I’ve tweeted 1,403 times. If a tweet receives, say, 1000 “Impressions”, it may only be retweeted 20 times, and the number of people who actually click on any link you included is even less. So obviously, the more followers you have, the more Impressions, retweets and hits.

I tend to seek followers among other writers, but not exclusively so. I have also focused on travelers, just because I have enjoyed travelling. The more followers you get, the more followers will come your way. I’ve noticed that I get “waves” of categories of followers. For a while I got pornographic followers for a while and then it stopped. I am presently getting Christian fundamentalist followers. Why? I have no idea. Of course, I get a lot of writers, like me. The majority are women who write romance novels, followed by men and women who write sci fi and fantasy. I suspect social media lends itself to entertainment rather hand literature.

Twitterland can be very impersonal. A lot of people have automatic responses. Some people always retweet my tweets and I assume that is a robot response. Also, you can send people Direct Messages on Twitter. I get a lot of robot DM’s. Most of them I immediately delete. I get a lot of requests to “Like” Facebook Pages. More than not I do and then ask the same of them. I’d say about 65% of people never return the favor. You  can’t take it personally, that’s for sure. But in an effort to personalize the experience, I’ve started contacting people asking if they would like to write for The Back Road Café. So far that’s working out, but more about this below.

I have 239 Friends on Facebook and 1,091 Likes on my Facebook Page. The Facebook Page is specifically for my writing, and I guess my Facebook Wall is for my ranting about how horrible politics is in the U.S. I’m not very good at posting on the Facebook Page and my social media consultant would not be very happy with me if she knew. More than not, the Page points people to my website, as do most of my Tweets.

The Back Road Café still remains fun and continues to thrive. My main contribution is my blog which I call Café Talk. I have a pretty loyal following, which is rather nice. Not huge, but loyal. Over recent months have been contacting followers on Twitter, asking if they write short stories and/or have a book that I might highlight on the site. So far three people have responded and I’ve really enjoyed the interaction I have with them (one from Kansas, one from Ohio and one from Orkney). In addition of publishing their stories and updating them on the stats associated with their story, I’ve had some pleasant email communication with them. I now have a fourth person considering publishing on the Café and a travel blogger who had agreed to begin a weekly blog, with photos of course. All this is good for the site – more variety of writing and more readers. All in all, a lot of fun, interesting people, and some good reading. It does personalize Twitterland, but in my experience, you have to make the effort.

I started all this – Facebook, Facebook Page, Twitter – to push, and maybe sell, my books: Notes from 39,000 Feet (nonfiction); Dis-Ease: Living with Prostate Cancer (nonfiction); Alien Love or Thank You Alpha Centauri (fiction); and The Woman in White Marble (fiction). Did it work? Well, I’m not rich and haven’t been invited by Oprah to be on her show. On the other hand, I’m confident that all this social media palaver hasn’t hurt. As soon as one of my books goes viral, I’ll let you know, and that’s a promise.

Copyright © 2015 Dale Rominger

I’m a Member of an American Socialist Collective ~ Don’t Tell

I live in an American socialist collective, otherwise known as Blueberry Place.

My new home in Renton, Washington is in a Home Owner Association (HOA). We have a governing body that makes the rules for our HOA, or collective. We all make payments to the collective which are used for services we all need. For example, I discovered the other day when hearing people walking on my roof that my collective arranges for my roof and cutters to be cleaned. By the way, my monthly payments, amount determined by the governing body, are not voluntary. They’re required, and there is a fine if the payment is late. Can’t have comrades running amuck in wild moments of individualism. We’re in this together.

Yup, I’m in a socialist collective where we the people pool our resources to assure things are done that we all need. Our gardens and public lands are kept cared for. Rats and other undesirables are monitored, which means caught and disposed of. Our roads are kept in good repair. We have collective insurance policies that protect our homes. Our houses are painted and roofs are repaired if need be. I love socialism.

Across the street from me lives Bob who is an old time right-wing conservative. He has an American flag hanging on his house 24/7/365. I’ve been told, by a retired Air Force lifer who lives down the street, that when Obama was elected to his first term, Bob hung the flag upside down. My Air Force neighbor was none too pleased, and he’s a good Republican. I told my wife I was going to go over to Bob's place and ask him how he likes living in a socialist collective where we comrades pool our resources for the greater good. Roberta advised against it and I heeded her wise counsel.

I want to stress Blueberry Place isn’t the only example of American socialism. There’s socialist projects all over the place. Let’s make a very short list.

United States of America Military

That's right. Let's begin with the grand-daddy of all American socialist institutions. We the people, that’s right comrade, you and me, will spend $598.5 billion during the fiscal year 2015 on all regular activities of the Department of Defense; to include war spending, nuclear weapons spending, international military assistance, and other Pentagon related spending (which includes: Operations and Maintenance; Military Personnel; Procurement; Research, Development, Testing and Evaluation; Military Construction; Family Housing; Other Miscellaneous Costs). That accounts for 54% of all federal discretionary spending. [1]

That’s one big socialist program paid for by we the people. But when was the last time you heard a Republican leader damn the way we pay for our military? How many Republicans advocate we turn the military budget over to Wall Street and the free market? Me thinks, not a lot.

The United States of American Interstate Highway System

The Interstate Highway System was authorized on June 29, 1956 by the Federal Highway Act of 1956. The bill was popularly known as the National Interstate and Defense Highways Act. A big thanks for this socialist project goes to Republican president Dwight D. Eisenhower who realized if the U.S. were invaded the country would need a reliable and comprehensive road system to enable the military to move about. The act authorized the construction of a 41,000 mile network of interstate highways to span the entire country, which included 55,000 bridges. The act also allocated $26 billion to pay for the construction, though in the end the government spent $119 billion on the project. Today the states collectively spend over $25 billion to maintain the highway system. It’s estimated to maintain the system over the next 50 years will cost the states and federal government $2.5 trillion.[2]

Another humongous socialist project alive and well because we the people paid for it and continue to pay for it. The next time you hear someone complaining that Obamacare is socialism and heralds the end of the United States as we know it, ask them if they every have or ever will drive on the freeway system. As them if they have a business that depends on the freeway system.

The United States of America Subsidies for Corporations and Companies

The great American free market capitalist corporations and companies don’t mind a little help from the people, well, every year. It’s hard to determine who they love more, the free market or the taxpayer who subsidizes their businesses. Come to think of it, how exactly can the free market be free if they receive handouts from we the people?

It’s estimated that the U.S. government, which means you and me, spends $100 billion a year in corporate welfare. That’s $870 a year that America’s 115 million families give to corporations. And the generosity of we the people doesn’t stop there. Each year we give $80 billion to corporations and companies through our states, counties and cities. That’s $696 every year for every family. No, no, I’m not done yet. Corporate tax subsidies, covered by you and me the humble taxpayer – better known as the great American socialist collective – cost $100 billion or $870 per family each year.  

So let’s do the math. We the people give to corporations and companies, directly and indirectly, $280 billion each and every year, and that amount has been going up year by year. So, every American family gives $2436 each year to help our free market corporations and companies make profits.[3]

Oh, why not. Let’s continuing doing our sums. From just the three socialist concerns above, we the people pool our resources to pay out somewhere around 997 billion each year on the socialist projects/institutions of the military, highways and corporations/companies. I’m thinking we of the great American collective should at least get a thank you card each year.

Yes, socialist projects and institutions are alive and well in America. In addition to the big three listed above we have:

Police Departments
Fire Departments
Public Libraries
Public Schools
Prisons/Jail System
Veterans Health Care
Congressional Health Care
Public Parks
Court System
Medicare and Medicaid

Oh, goodness, I could go on all day. Instead I encourage you to click on Daily Kos where 75 socialist projects and institutions are listed. Have a look. It’s a fun experience.

Well, comrades, all I can say is I’m looking forward to next year’s barbeque where we the people of the Blueberry Place Collective get together, poll our hotdogs, hamburgers, chips, potato salad, green salads, condiments, beer, water, coke, juice, and eat together while we admire the American flag hanging on Bob’s house.

Copyright © 2015 Dale Rominger

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[1] Discretionary spending is the portion of the budget that the president requests and Congress appropriates every year. It’s represents less than one-third of the total federal budget. See National Priorities Project. 

[2] See: CDM Smith and Wikipedia.

[3] See: The Federalist. The figures given here for the amount of dollars each family pays out to subsidize corporations and companies are conservative, as is The Federalist. I've seen other reports that subsidies cost each family $6000.

NOLA Contradictions

 If you visit New Orleans (known as NOLA) be sure and go down to the Café Du Monde on Decatur Street in the French Quarter. Sure it’s what the tourist do, but hey, you’re a tourist so enjoy yourself. Odds are you won’t find a seat unless it’s very early in the morning (the café is open 24 hours a day). Instead of waiting, get in the take away line and order a bag of beignets and a large coffee au lait and then go back to Decatur and find a bench to sit on. If you’re lucky there will be a small jazz band playing in front of the café. The last time I was there, there was a three man band – trombone, trumpet and drum - playing some damn good jazz. I sat and ate my beignets, drank my coffee and listened. When I was done I dropped some bills in their bright red pail.

Café Du MondeYou might also go around the back of the Café Du Monde where you can watch people making beignets. A beignet is a square piece of dough, deep fried and then covered with a lot of powdered sugar. Apparently they are always sold in threes. My advice, go to the viewing window after you’ve eaten your three. It’s fun to watch but in no time at all you can’t help but see all that deep frying and begin to wonder. They say each human being, assuming they are not hit by a bus or die early from disease, has about the same amount of heart beats – around 2,210,000,000, actually. But standing there watching those squares of dough being tossed into the deep fry vat and then covered with powdered sugar, you can’t help but think your total allotment of beats is being reduced with every beignet you eat. A second word of advice, eat them while they’re hot. The pleasure goes downhill quickly when they’re cold, but you still get your reduction in heartbeats.

Now walk east along Decatur until you come to Dumaine Street and hang a left, which is the only way you can go because Dumaine ends at Decatur. Walk up Dumaine until you come to a large road called Rampart Street. Directly in front of you, across Rampart, you’ll see the entrance to Louis Armstrong Park. It’s a nice park, though the locals still have some bad feelings about it. It seems a number of homes of people who had lived in Treme for generations were demolished to create the park. It is also locked up tight by 6:00 pm. People don’t like that.

As you cross Rampart Street you are walking north of the French Quarter and entering Treme, the oldest African American community in the United States. Treme is located on part of the Morand-Moreau plantation that was sold by Claude Treme in 1810 to the city of New Orleans. It was known as “Back of Town” and at times is still called by its French name Faubourg Treme. 

Congo SquareCongo SquareAs you enter the park you will see Congo Square. In the 17th and 18th Centuries both slave and free Africans were given Sunday off and they would congregate in Congo Square, which has been called Place des Negres, Place Publique, Circus Square, and Place Congo. There under the sycamore trees they would sing, dance and drum as Africans, not African Americans. If you like NOLA jazz you can thank enslaved Africans at Congo Square. And if you have a particular sensitivity stand under the two beautiful sycamores and imagine. Though I cannot find any source to verify it, those trees may have been there during the Sunday celebrations.

Leaving the park to the east you will find St. Philip Street. Walk north until you come to Villere Street. On the corner of St. Philip and Villere you will find the Treme Coffeehouse. My suggestion is to stop and have a coffee and sandwich. It’s a great and friendly café where you more than likely will meet people living in Treme. The owner’s name is Tracy. Tell him Dale said hi, and if he hesitates tell him the guy who wrote The Woman in White Marble. He’ll get it. Diagonal from the Treme Coffeehouse is the Treme Center where often a Second Line will begin. If there is one coming, Tracy will know about it.

One block north on Robertson Street you’ll find the Candlelight Lounge where the Treme Brass Band plays on Wednesday nights. If you want some authentic NOLA jazz, this is the place. The band will start playing between 9:30 and 10:00 and will fill the small room with music until after midnight. You won’t be the only tourist there. The night I was there it was about half tourist and half locals. It was a great night, down and dirty. So claim a table or sit at the bar and have a beer.

St. Anna's ChurchVictim of Violence Memorial WallFinally, walk east along Villere until you come to Esplanade Street. Across the street and to your right is St. Anna’s Episcopal Church. There you will find a witness to NOLA violence called the Victims of Violence Ministry. When someone is murdered in NOLA there name goes up on the Victim of Violence Memorial Wall. Since 2007 they have written 2000 names on their wall. It’s worth taking a moment. No band is playing, though I suspect some children of slaves who once danced in Congo Park have their names on the Memorial Wall. Is it morbid, hopeful, futile, honest? I leave it to you to decide.

It’s a nice walk of contradictions. It’s here and now and long ago history. It’s enjoyable and disturbing. It’s NOLA.

Copyright © 2015 Dale Rominger

The Offence of the Poor and the Acceptability of Poverty

When I was a small boy we lived in Mays Landing, New Jersey, in a house across the street from a small park. The park was great. Lots of trees, a pond in the center, and enough open space so we could throw a baseball and football around. My friends and I spent a lot of time in the park.

One day two of my friends and I got in a fight with a kid a bit older and bigger. At some point I took a good one to the right side of my face and ended up on my back. I remember lying there distinctly thinking that fighting was pretty stupid, particularly since I had nothing against this person. I wasn’t frightened, but I was struck by how meaningless it seemed. I should note, that while I laid there in deep contemplation, my friends continued beating on this kid.

Some days after the fight, a number of my friends jumped the older boy and threw him in the pond. I can’t remember what happened next. I may have taken him home or I may have gotten my mother, but either way he ended up on our front porch wearing one of my t-shirts and pair of shorts eating sandwiches and drinking iced tea with my mom and me while his clothes were being washed. I do remember he was embarrassed, not least because my clothes were much too small for him.

Here’s the thing: the only reason this kid was the victim of abuse and violence was that he was poor and liked hanging out in our park. In those days Mays Landing had its poor and they didn’t come to the park. My friends felt disdain because he was poor and I felt virtuous because my mom and I had helped him. On that particular day he was an object, first of hatred and second of compassion. Later I would get to know him and he would become a human being.

My friends hated this kid. The hatred was not personal, meaning that they didn’t actually know him as a person. They had no idea if he were good or bad, pleasant or nasty, honest or dishonest. It was a hatred towards a class, or tribe, or an intruding presence. It was learned. I doubted they even knew his name. It goes without saying that the abuse was very personal to him! As he stood on my front porch dripping wet he was crying. But to my friends? All they knew of him was he was a poor kid in our park. Who else he was as an actual human being was irrelevant.

When the poor intrude into our space we can feel offended, or angered, or perhaps morally affronted by an unclean object. Or we might feel uncomfortable, or saddened, or morally outraged by a perceived injustice. I think we mostly try to ignore the person, but I have seen people express anger and disgust, and others sympathy and compassion. Either way, the poor have their place, and in our park was not one of them.

The poor cause us to experience offence in two ways: One, as unclean pariahs intruding into our space (physical, psychological, ethical, spiritual), and two, as reminders that we live in a society where some (many) have much too little (money, shelter, food, health, dignity). In both cases we are morally offended, the first grounded in our feelings of righteousness and the second in our feelings of injustice. We either throw them into the pond or give them clean clothes and a sandwich. The pond because they deserve it – their poverty is their own fault. The clean clothes and food because they deserve both – everyone should have enough.

Richard GereRecently Richard Gere went undercover as a homeless man on the streets of New York City while filming Time Out of Mind. He posted a picture of himself on Facebook (to the right) and wrote this:

When I went undercover in New York City as a homeless man, no one noticed me. I felt what it was like to be a homeless man. People would just past by me and look at me in disgrace. Only one lady was kind enough to give me some food. It was an experience I’ll never forget. So many times we forget how blessed we are. We should not take that for granted. And if we can help someone in need, we should. That’s why after I was done, I walked around and gave food and $100 to every homeless person I saw. They cried and were so grateful. Be the change you wish to see in the world.

I’m willing to bet Mr. Gere was in fact noticed by many people. Gere said so himself: “People would…look at me in disgrace.” The point is, however, he was not recognized. When you objectify a human being, in this case a homeless man, his personal identity is irrelevant. I suspect that Gere's, and our, surprise comes from the fact that he was not noticed, that is not recognized. And the fact that such a famous and familiar actor was not “seen” reminds us of how noticed and invisible the poor are.

Gere says he “felt what it was like to be a homeless man”. That no doubt is true to a degree. But only to a degree. He was apparently filming in character for 45 minutes, so not long sitting on the street. He is worth somewhere around $100 million, so poor he is not. He was not trapped in poverty. Like Gere, I got to know the boy in the park and did begin to understand, to a degree, the burdens of poverty. But like Gere I was not trapped in poverty. There was no way I actually “knew” what it was like to be poor in Mays Landing, any more than Gere could actually “know” what it is like to be homeless in New York.[1]

The differences between the boy in the park and Gere on the street are immense, but most significant for here is that the boy had no way out and Gere did. The boy could not walk out of his real poverty while Gere could quite easily get up and walk away from his pretend homelessness. However, both the boy and Gere did share something. Both were impacted by the fact that they were not respected. The boy was not acknowledged for the person he was and Gere was not recognized for the person he is. They were both objectified and thus disrespected. Harry G. Frankfurt in his new book On Inequality writes:

[L]ack of respect consists in the circumstance that some important fact about the person is not properly attended to or is not appropriately taken into account. In other words, the person is dealt with as though he is not what he actually is. The implications of significant features of his life are overlooked or denied. Pertinent aspects of how things are with him are treated as though they had now reality. When he is denied suitable respect, it is a though his very existence is reduced.[2]

Gere was moved by the experience and therefore “walked around and gave food and $100 to every homeless person I saw.” And he finished his Facebook status with the words: “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

If the change you are looking for is to remember how blessed you are and to begin helping people who are, apparently, not blessed, then giving food and a $100 to homeless people is a start. But if the change you are wanting is to eliminate poverty, then, while the food and money may change an individual’s life (at least temporarily), it will not change the social, political, and economic realities that render poverty acceptable any more than the clothes and sandwich eradicated poverty in Mays Landing.[3]

Poverty is not just a personal tragedy. It is a social, political, economic, and legal reality. It is a structural and institutional problem. While giving food and money to individual poor people may be a good thing to do, it will not change the reality of poverty. And the problem is getting huge.

A recent Credit Suisse Wealth Report states that global wealth was $250 trillion in 2015; that the bottom half of adults own less than 1% of that wealth; the top 10% own 87.7%; and the top 1% own 50% of the wealth. (link to the actual report which examined wealth in more than 200 countries).

These figures are breathtaking. This distribution of wealth did not just happen. It was made to happen. If we’re willing to live with the 1% owning 50% of the wealth then we are willing to live with the boy in the park and the homeless man in the street. Yes, I know. It’s complicated! But people have been saying for a long time that we have the intelligence and the resources to eliminate poverty. What we don’t  have is the will.

Copyright © 2015 Dale Rominger

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[1] One definition of the word “know” is to have a clear and complete idea of something. I am asserting that one cannot knowing clearly and completely what it is to be poor if one is in fact not poor and can easily leave the experiencing of poverty. One can certainly get a good idea of what it is to be poor befriending a poor boy or putting yourself in a poor man’s place. But clear and complete knowledge and identifying, I think not.

[2] Frankfurt, Harry G. On Inequality. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press. 2015, p. 86.

[3] It is important to note that Richard Gere did not stop at handing out food and money to individual homeless people. He is known for his activism and his philanthropic endeavors. He spoke to the National Conference to End Homelessness hosted by the National Alliance about his experience and homelessness in the United States. It is also hoped that his 2014 movie Time Out of Mind will raise awareness. To read more about his experience on the streets of New York read Hoffposts Impact or go to google for more accounts. 

An Open Letter to American Gun Owners

Dear American Gun Owners,

I don’t think you realize that most of us who don’t own guns and advocate for greater gun regulation wouldn’t give a damn about your guns if you would stop killing people. You kill a lot of people. Let me break it down for you. Every day 48 children are shot and every day 7 of them die. Every day 297 Americans of all ages are shot and every day 89 of them die. Of those who die, 33 are murdered or killed unintentionally, 55 kill  themselves, 1 is killed by police, and 1 intent unknown.[1] Such deaths are so commonplace that they rarely rise above local news reporting. Unfortunately, mass shooting and killings are also commonplace and, of course, they do sometimes make the national headlines (though not as often as you would think). In the last 1,004 days there have been 994 mass shootings resulting in 1,260 deaths and 3,306 injuries.[2]

Since you seem unable to stop killing people, we non-gun owners keep trying to persuade our elected officials to introduce even pitifully feeble gun regulations in an effort to at least slow down the killing. Obviously, so far we have failed miserably. But you shouldn’t take our failure as an indication we will stop trying. You see, our friends, family, and children are dying too. Thing is, we don't have a lot of influence with the NRA and their politicians in state and federal legislatures. However, I'm thinking you might, if only you'd give it a try.

Now before you get all angry and accuse me of being an unpatriotic, anti-Second  Amendment, gun hating, bleeding heart liberal, let me say I do realize that the vast majority of gun owners are good and responsible people. I get that. Some of my friends and family have guns in their homes. However, I’m going to say this anyway. Those of us who do not own guns, borrow guns, or shoot guns cannot shoot people dead. It’s impossible. The only people who can kill people with guns are people with guns. So I’m afraid the killing is on you, and by "you" I mean the community of gun owners. This house of pain is not my house, though I do live next-door. It is your house. So, if you don’t like me complaining about all the killing and dying, then get your house in order. Trust me, if you leave it to me, and through some miracle I succeed, you won’t like the results.  

Now I know what you’re thinking (because you always saying it). If only we gave everyone a gun, or several guns, then the killing would stop. I know it’s counter intuitive to you, but no. Let’s also break this down.

Where there are more guns there are more gun deaths. Gun deaths are 7 times higher in states with the highest household gun ownership as compared to states with the lowest household gun ownership. An estimated 41% of gun related murders and 94% of gun related suicides would not have occurred if no guns were present.[3]

Keeping a gun in your house raises the risk of homicide. States with the highest level of gun ownership have 114% higher gun related homicide rates than states with the lowest gun ownership. The risk of homicide is 3 times higher in homes with guns.[4]

Well, take it or leave it, believe it or not. I know it sounds un-American and downright crazy to say, but where there are no guns people don’t kill each other with guns and as a result there are less dead people. Yes, I do understand that facts and truth are often less persuasive than ideology and belief. Still, a person has got to try.

So, I hope you are well and see you at the next mass shooting. One will be coming soon and next time it may be in your school or neighborhood.

Sincerely yours,

Dale Rominger

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[1] See Brady Center

[2] The FBI defines a mass shooting as four or more people being shot or killed in one incident. The statistics for the most recent mass shootings mentioned in the letter were compiled by The Guardian. See: “994 mass shootings in 1,004 days: this is what America's gun crisis looks like”, Friday, 2 October 2015.

[3] See Brady Center

[4] See Brady Center

The Excitement and Loneliness of the Far Way

I think I began travelling because I feared the world. I always assumed my father feared the world as well, that I had inherited the fear from him. But, perhaps I was projecting, always projecting, and if so I owe him an apology. Be that as it may, I have done a great many things precisely because they frightened me. If I hadn’t, I would never have left my bedroom.

Travelling, particularly by yourself, can at times be frightening. Wherever you go in the world, we are all doing the same things. We are speaking and writing. We are eating and cooking. We are serving and sitting in cafes. We are working and playing. We are learning and teaching. We are posting letters and sending emails. We are taking walks and lounging in front of the TV. We’re buying and selling. We’re worshipping and singing. We are loving and hating. We are embracing and striking. We are marrying and divorcing. We are laughing and crying. We are making peace and making war. We are getting old and dying. However, the way we do all these things can be radically, shockingly, different in different places. The greater the difference from your every day, the greater the excitement and the greater the loneliness when visiting.

When travelling the most mundane can become exotic. A newspaper. A train ticket. A toilet. A walk. Though more than likely surrounded by people all your life, they suddenly become more colorful, interesting, dangerous, inviting, friendly. What is more exciting than looking down a narrow road or alleyway with a bounty of cafes and bars, shops and businesses? It’s a canyon of amazement. How wonderful it is to be surrounded by people of a new and different tribe, none of whom speak your language, wear your clothes, share your history, bare your prejudices. Once in Shanghai an every growing crowd of people stood with me outside a movie theater as I asked in English and sign language if the movie had English subtitles and they tried in Mandarin and sign language, with increased laughter, to answer me. We finally succeeded amidst shouts of congratulation, handshakes, and back slaps. The moment will never leave me.

Grand Bazzar, IstanbulGrand Bazzar, IstanbulI once sat with a Muslim named Musti in a hidden café in the Grand Bazaar (the Kapali Cassi) in Istanbul drinking apple tea surrounded by men smoking nargiles. I once met a beautiful woman in a park in Managua, Nicaragua on a warm summer evening. I once sat all alone late at night on the Continental Divide in Montana looking at the Milky Way. I once was a guest in a family home in the mountains of Taiwan and was given muddy brown coffee by a young girl as her father looked on with pride. I once become violently ill in Harari, Zimbabwe and was cared for by loving people in their home. Talk about the good life. Try and tell me it hasn’t been good.

Many years ago the first country I visited by myself where the people did not speak my language was France. It was the only the second foreign country I had ever entered, Britain being the first (thank God they spoke English!). I was alone. I flew into Marseille, climbed into my rental car and headed for Arles. Shortly after entering the freeway, or motorway if you like, I saw a toll booth ahead. Thinking about it now I laugh and blush at the same time. After travelling around the world more than a few times and being in, what were to me, tight spots – the gunfire in war exhausted Angola, the late night military stop and search in El Salvador, the police intimidation in Zimbabwe, the prostitutes’ desperation in, well, everywhere, the malaria symptoms (thankfully all deceptions) in India – I’m amazed now to remember that I had to pull off the road and that I sat almost paralyzed trying to figure out what I was going to do about a French toll booth. Talk about tight spots. Don’t try and tell me I wasn’t up against it.

Somehow – I don’t remember how – I made it past the toll booth barrier where a French robotic voice demanded my payment. Further, without the aid of GPS, or Sat Nav if you prefer, I found my hotel in Arles, the Hotel de Provence on the rue Chiavary. It’s all child’s play now that the years have passed and the air miles have accumulated, but back then…

Arles, FranceArles, FranceMy room in Arles was on the top floor and from my window I could see the small narrow street on which the hotel was located. In the evening the small hotel restaurant spilled out onto the street which became closed to traffic. I could hear the clanking of silverware, the clicking of classes, and a cacophony of conversations and laughter while I sat in my room. Eventually I went down to dinner and there sitting at a table for two on a narrow French street I learned a valuable lesson about loneliness. I looked around me and I was surrounded by couples in love and families in a multitude of relationships, but most importantly I was encircled by people together. They were together. I was not. A loneliness suddenly settled on me like a weight. It was a loneliness of geography, language, culture, history, and tribe. It was personal. And this is what I learned. Such a loneliness is not to be ignored or dismissed. You cannot pretend it is unimportant. You cannot get up and walk away from it. You cannot foist it on to someone else. Such loneliness is to be endured and embraced, because it will eventually pass, but – and it’s a big but – while it resides around and within, it can profoundly fashion you. Talk about epiphanies. Don’t tell me I didn’t see with new eyes.

I am sorry if you have never experienced such far away loneliness, as I am if you have never experienced the excitement of distance and difference. I realized I am privileged to have had the experiences of both.

Copyright © 2015 Dale Rominger

Three Almost-requirements for Political Office in The United States of America

I thought it would beneficial if I share with you three almost-requirements for being elected to political office in the United States of America. So if you’re thinking about running for the House, Senate or Presidency, this is definitely for you.

The First Almost-requirements for Political Office:

It is important that I feel and think you would be a good guy to have a beer with. Okay, maybe you are responsible for housing or transportation, or maybe you’ve got you index finger on the nuke button, but will I feel comfortable having a beer with you? It’s important to me that there is absolutely nothing special about you. I mean, Dubya was a disaster as a president, but I understand he’s a great guy to have a beer with.

This almost-requirement for higher office would seem to disadvantage female candidates, but hey, I’ve had plenty of good drinking sessions with women. If you are a woman running for political office, just talk to me about sports, swear a lot, and, if you’re a Republican, for sure tell me when you plan to send ground troops into Syria, Iran and North Korea. Oh, and perhaps give me a heads up on your contingency plans for nuking Moscow and Beijing.

The Second Almost-requirements for Political Office:

It’s vitally important that you are a God fearing family loving Christian. When I was a small boy that meant you had to be a God fearing family loving Protestant Christian. I remember when John F. Kennedy ran for president. I’m assuming all Republicans and a hell of a lot of Democrats thought if he were elected to our highest office the Pope would follow is Swiss Guard into the White House. As it turned out, Kennedy did get elected and we all discovered that you could also be a God fearing family loving Roman Catholic Christian and hold high office in these United States.

More recently Al Gore chose Joe Lieberman to be his running mate. Besides being a very conservative Democrat, Lieberman was also Jewish. Given that Gore actually won the election, but was not favored by the Supreme Court, let’s nonetheless assume that somewhere around 50% of Americans could at least live with the idea that a God fearing family loving Jew could be president. It’s a great country.

Unfortunately, no matter how God fearing and family loving a Muslim may be, he or she is not yet welcome to sit in the top seat. Republican candidate for president Ben Carson has said that the presidency is not for a Muslim: “I would not advocate that we put a Muslim in charge of this nation. I absolutely would not agree with that.” Interestingly, Carson is a Seventh Day Adventist, which I presume means that for Carson and his followers, a God fearing family loving Mormon can hold high office.

Carson is a retired neurosurgeon. He said this one day: “I believe that making a difference starts with understanding our amazing founding document, the U.S. constitution. And as someone who had performed brain surgery thousands of time, I can assure you that the constitution isn’t brain surgery.” Well, he should know.

I’m in no doubt, therefore, the Carson has read Article VI of the United States Constitution and the first amendment to that same constitution. Article VI states in part:

The Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and the members of the several state legislatures, and all executive and judicial officers, both of the United States and of the several states, shall be bound by the oath or affirmation, to support this Constitution; but no religions test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States. (Italics my emphasis).

So nothing there about God fearing family loving Protestants, Roman Catholics, Jews and Muslims.

The First Amendment to the United States says in part:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religions, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof…

Nothing there either, but it does seem Dr. Carson would find it difficult to legislate for the exclusion of Muslims to the presidency, that is of course, if the Congress were abiding by the Constitution.

Dr. Carson did say that as far as he is concerned President Obama is a God fearing family loving Christian and not a Muslim. Unfortunately, a still high percentage of Republicans believe Mr. Obama is indeed a Muslim born in a foreign land. Apparently 43% of Republicans believe he is a Muslim, 39% that he is a Protestant or some other kind of Christian, 14% just don’t know, 2% that he is a Mormon, and 1% that he is a Jew. Republicans are a faithful people and this goes to prove that belief trumps reality more times than not.

The Third Almost-requirements for Political Office:

Finally, it is important that you don’t actually have much or any experience in politics. Many candidates absolutely brag that they are not part of the Washington elite, that  they live outside of the Washington bubble and I love it. Politics is one of the few professions where experience in the field seems to be a disadvantage. Image this:

I’ve never had any training or experience in dentistry, but I’ve just opened my own dental office, so come on in.

I have no education, training or experience is law, but I’ve just hung out my shingle so I’m waiting for your business.

I have no experience as a plumber and have never even picked up a wrench, but I really want to be your plumber. Give me a call.

Hi, I have no experience as a politician and absolutely hate the government so I want you to put me in charge of the most expensive and deadliest military planet earth has ever seen. Vote for me.

That’s right. To win high office it might help if you tell me you hate the job and you hate the government. I remember the Republican Party’s Contract with America announced to a needy nation in 1994. Since Republicans hated politics and the government so much, they introduced term limits, which they honored until they reached their own term limits.

It’s interesting to hate the government of the people, for the people and by the people and at the same time ask for my vote. Not sure what that says about your attitude toward “the people”, and towards me of course. But hey, never mind. Politics. Go figure. Let’s have another beer and raise a glass to Jesus.

So there you have it. No need to thank me. Just follow these three almost-requirements to higher office and you too can serve the people in the United States of America.

Copyright © 2015 Dale Rominger

What did 2He Every Do For Us? Balloons!

How smart is Homo Sapien Sapien?

Or…

How stupid is Homo Sapien Sapien?

Before you answer those questions, let’s consider Helium (₂He).

Helium is the second most abundant element in the observable universe, hydrogen being the most abundant. Helium is also the second lightest element in the universe. While making up 24% of the total elemental mass it is, relatively speaking, rare on earth.

Helium found on earth is created by radioactive decay and is trapped in natural gas. It is extracted from natural gas for commercial use through a process called fractional distillation which is a low temperature separation process. We have a finite amount of helium on earth and once we release it into the atmosphere it escapes into space.

Most helium reserves are located in the United States, but reserves also exist in Russia, Poland, Algeria, and Qatar. The demand for helium rises between 5% and 6% each year. At present U.S. usage of known helium reserves will be used use up in 58 years, “and less than this (perhaps 80% of the time) at world use rates.” 

Here how we use helium:

• As breathing mixture essential in treating asthma, emphysema and other breathing aliments.
• For growing silicon and germanium crystals.
• For gas chromatography, which is used to analyze the content of chemical products, assuring quality products in the chemical industry, measuring toxic substances in the air, soil and water.
• In supersonic tunnels and impulse facilities.
• In gas tungsten arc welding.
• For industrial leak detection.
• In lenses and telescopes – helium reduces the distorting effect of temperature differences in-between lenses. It is particularly used in solar telescopes.
• Helium dating measures the age of rocks and minerals.
• In cryogenic applications – the cooling of superconducting magnets in MRI scanners and the Large Hadron Collider at CERN.
• For observations in quantum mechanics.
• In fuel for NASA’s  Apollo program, shuttles and in the Saturn V rocket.
• Helium-neon lasers – used for reading bar codes and laser pointers before being replaced by the diode laser.
• As a heat-transfer medium in gas-cooled nuclear reactors.
• In thermoacoustic refrigeration.
• In airships.

And perhaps mostt importantly, helium is used

• To make the human voice sound like squeaky cartoon chipmunks in an old and better forgotten film.        
• In party balloons.       

From Wikipedia: Helium (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helium)So, helium reserves are running low and could be used up in somewhere between 11.6 years and 58 years. People have become enough concerned that the search is on for new helium deposits and the good news is that natural gas is all the rage right now. But the bottom line is that helium is a finite resource.

At present scientific research is beginning to feel the pinch with delayed and cancelled procedures that require the use of helium. So far I haven’t read that the party balloon industry is suffering. Robert Richardson of Cornell University won a Nobel physics prize in 1996 for his research on helium. He is  arguing that a single party balloon should cost around $115.00. In the current market that amount of money would fill 200 balloons. Poor Professor Richardson thinks we are “squandering an irreplaceable resource.” 

He’s not along. The chemist Peter Wothers at Cambridge University is calling for the complete ban of helium filled party balloons. He says: "I can imagine that in 50 years' time our children will be saying: 'I can't believe they used such a precious material to fill balloons.'" Presently party balloons are responsible for 5% to 7% of the total helium usage. It doesn’t seem like a lot unless you need an MRI and the slow delivery of helium has caused a delay.

So image in 60 years your welding company goes bust because of lack of helium. Or your breathing ailment worsens because of the lack of ₂He. Or, you are given a choice. You can get your young daughter an MRI scan that may result in saving her life or you can get her dozens of helium balloons for her birthday. However, you can’t get her both. What to do? What to do?

I know I’m crazy, but helium balloons annoy the hell out of me.

Copyright © 2015 Dale Rominger