All My Gettings

So, Mallard Fillmore doesn't really make sense to me. Is it ever funny? But, more pressingly, is it ever appropriate to compare the controversy surrounding cartoon mascots to the holocaust?

World War I, I think, wins the award for Most Earnest Propaganda, a title that is pretty impressive, given the nature of propaganda in general. We know that WWI came about in part because of the jingoism of the European monarchies, but did they have to be so chipper and positive about it all? One of my favorites is the one shown above. A young girl asks her middle-aged father what he had done to fight back the Hun scourge. Apparently, his blank expression tells us that, rather than risk trench warfare for England, he had done something dishonorable, like working an office in London rather than dying horribly in a trench in France.

There's a powerful sense in this poster that Britain knew it was involved in shaping the history of tomorrow. Sitting on the sidelines is no longer an option, you've got to man up and become part of the planned glory of victory. I also like the insecurity that's being played on here. Men seeing this poster are supposed to be shamed into signing up. But shamed by the possibility that, in the future, their as-yet-unborn kids will think less of them for not carrying a gun. It takes a certain kind of personality to be urged to get involved by this thought. And, apparently, I have that personality.

The current fight over gay marriage seems to me to be what we will all look back on as my generation's Vietnam. It's the major social issue that is spurs intense political action and ire from both sides of America. And I feel sort of like I'm sleeping through it. I'm frustrated by my church's involvement in the anti position enough to complain to everybody I cross paths with but not enough to sign a letter to the first presidency decrying it or to show up for a rally at Temple Square. In fact, the fallout of Proposition 8's passing has, unaccountably, put me on the defensive for Mormonism. Not so much for this particular PR nightmare, but for all the things on the periphery that seem to be roiled up by the issue. I'm halting between two opinions (which is the second half of my personal narrative after being designed contrary to happiness). And, being lukewarm, I'll be spewed out by both sides.

And it's not an issue that I want to be on the "winning" side, I don't think. As far as I can tell, there's no winner here. If the Church gets its way, gays are second-class citizens. If the civil rights wins, the church loses (though what they lose is entirely unclear to me). I still firmly believe the Church should just let it alone and that gay marriage is actually the right answer. I'm just a little hesitant to move myself to anything that might actually include any effort on my part. It seems like the only explanation here is some uncovered fear I'm holding onto. What, I wonder, am I really afraid of? And, at the other end of my life, what will I have to say to those people who ask me, expecting an exciting, brave story, what I did during the great war for equality?

I guess the LDS Church does want to pass the buck, sort of. The Catholics have our backs, it would seem.

Also, this from an email from Equality California and whole bunch of other No on 8 folks:

We achieve nothing if we isolate the people who did not stand with us in this fight. We only further divide our state if we attempt to blame people of faith, African American voters, rural communities and others for this loss. We know people of all faiths, races and backgrounds stand with us in our fight to end discrimination, and will continue to do so. Now more than ever it is critical that we work together and respect our differences that make us a diverse and unique society. Only with that understanding will we achieve justice and equality for all.

So, churches are bewildered and begging for respect, and gay rights organizations ask for civility, and yet people show up at Temple Square to protest. As my friend Hannah keeps pointing out, nobody's winning here and everybody's getting hurt.

There’s a fairly well-known set of bronze doors on the cathedral St. Michael’s in Hildesheim, Germany. The colossal bronze doors have on one side the story of the creation up to the murder of Abel and the other side highlights scenes from the life of Jesus. About half-way down the Genesis retelling, there’s a depiction of Adam and Eve being cast out of the garden. God, understandably angry at His creations for failing to keep a very simple rule, points forcefully at Adam. Adam, in turn, claims it’s all his wife’s fault. Eve, hunched to hide her nakedness, points no less insistently to the serpent. It’s pass the buck, 5000 BC-style. This post could be read as that same story being repeated, not the part about pissing off deity for failing to grasp his reasons but rather the share the blame bit. That’s not really my intention, but I guess part of being Mormon is having an apologetic reflex.

I don’t want you to think that I am actually defending the position of the Mormon Church and their involvement in Prop 8. The position they took, surrounded by sketchy logic, and connected with the statements that they don’t oppose same-sex couples having the rights of marriage without actually getting married doesn’t really stand up to scrutiny. It’s either confused or evil or just half-baked. And, barring some revelation that the Brethren have yet to share with us, their fervor is grounded, not too subconsciously, on the cultural mores of a bunch of men seventy years and older. Nor do I feel all that sorry about the protest yesterday outside the LA temple or the one planned tonight for Temple Square. The Church surely knew they were going to raise the ire of a whole bunch of folks by opposing marriage equity. Also, these protests, sadly for those of us who are hurt and annoyed by the church, will probably do very little. Mormons love the sense they’re being persecuted and calling them out like this will only galvanize them further.

But, did Mormons really protect marriage in California? The data seem to suggest that, really, it’s a bit more complicated than that. There’s the obvious fact that Mormons donated a staggering amount of money to the cause and the time and energies of devoted members who manned phone banks, knocked on doors and stood outside polling locations can probably never be quantified. The Church also made public statements outlining its reasons, called special meetings for the Saints to hear higher ups urge them to get involved and willingly signed up with a bunch of people who think we’re all going to hell just to maximize their efforts. On the flipside, the money donated by opponents is also astounding, as was their devotion and volunteer hours. Both sides were highly engaged. The question is which side was more effective. The opponents’ ads, it turns out, had more impact, according to polls. People who had seen both ads agreed that the No on 8 campaign was more persuasive. Of course, given the disparity between exit polls and actual returns, that could be more social desirability bias coming through.

The real answer, as most media outlets are coming to, is that both sides were blindsided by the nature of the electorate in 2008. African-Americans, who turned out in record numbers, voted in favor of banning gay marriage seventy percent. The reasons for these citizens showing up at the polls are complicated, but have a lot to do with the big push of the Democratic Party to get the vote out and the fact that, for the first time, we were voting for an African-American president. I doubt the Dems will soon be changing their publicity materials to include the unsavory fact that getting people involved in democracy can backfire. The efforts to flood the polls with Obama-supporters, though, surely helped the opposition to Prop 8 camp as well. After all, young, first-time voters showed up in droves, and that group is generally more accepting of gay marriage. Unfortunately, though, the African-American and, to a lesser degree, the Latino vote gave marriage “preservation” a lead that couldn’t be surmounted. I find it sad and troubling that the group that should know the most about laws curtailing rights turned out to do the exact same to another group. Of course, we could talk about kick-the-dog syndrome, but I’m not really sure that African-Americans are just picking on a group with weaker social protections. Basically, I don’t get the rationale of African-American voters who said no to gay marriage and I wouldn’t try to guess.

So why, then, given these complications are Mormons getting all the blame? Surely they do deserve part of it if they convinced anyone sitting on the fence to vote for the ban. However, I think four main factors play into the rage. The first has to do with the way the story was reported in the press. Before the election, most reporters seemed to agree that, if Prop 8 passed, it would be because the Mormons have deep pockets and a knack for organizing. [I find it interesting, somewhat as a non-sequitor, that most press kept referring to the “Utah-based Church”, while we never saw “Rome-based Catholic Church” or “Georgia-based Southern Baptist Convention”.] Like everyone else, these reporters didn’t fully expect the African-American voting patterns. The second reason for Mormons getting the blame is that they are an easy target. They have a cohesive structure, they failed to admit that members disagreed on this issue (they sort of did, in their press release response), they have these big temples, they were very vocal and so on. The third, connected closely with being an easy target, is the fact that a lot of the protestors were already upset with the Church for any number of reasons, most of which are quite valid. Prop 8 fallout is just another reason to go picket, or the straw that broke the ruminant.

The fourth reason is the most interesting, at least to me. There’s been quite a bit of talk, ever since Mitt Romney’s bid, about acceptable biases in society. Anti-Mormonism is still a very comfortable bias for most Americans. After all, these people are weird. They believe in becoming gods, polygamy, extreme communalism, secret temple oaths, and they don’t even drink coffee! Even people who don’t openly hate Mormonism don’t have much good to say for it. However, anti-African-American bias is definitely not cool any more. So, all the frustration of the gay rights groups has to go somewhere. Since angry signs and yelling in African-American neighborhoods or in front of heavily black churches would be viewed with repugnance, that bloc of voters isn’t being held responsible. So, instead of pointing the finger accurately, these groups opt for a course that provides an outlet, real blame and a socially acceptable target.

I am glad that the Church has yet to try to point the blame elsewhere. They are taking these protests the way they always do: with silence to suggest dignity and an underlying belief that it’s just one more sign that we’re the chosen people (when, in fact, they should maybe realize that their position is questionable). I’m also happy to know that not all is lost in the fight for marriage equity. There’s a court case with new, compelling logic to be settled (a case that forces the Supreme Court of California to either admit they were wrong a few months ago or claim that it’s kosher to let fundamental rights be taken away from a specific group) and, failing that, it’ll be back on the ballot in 2010. There’s hope. Maybe by that time, the leaders of the Church will have learned to not get involved. But even if they do, it looks like all the time and money in the world don’t make that much difference when all’s said and done.

Throughout Salt Lake, there are ads that appeared about a month ago. They are for the Utah Republican Party, which as we all know is an organization that really needs to sell itself to its target audience. I mean, Utah is, after all, a battleground state.

These ads are a play on the fact that Republican contains the words "I can". (Those GOPsters! Their wit amazes!) They finish out that sentence with things like "I can start my dream business", "I can prosper", or "I can dream big" (democrats, it appears only squelch dreams. Because they're Marxists.) I think, though, to be fair, we should expand the options of finishing this setence to some other things that the Utah Republican Party supports.

Here's some examples to get started:

• I can work four jobs and still not afford health insurance
• I can marry the person I love, unless that person is the same sex as I am
• I can adopt children (assuming I'm married)
• I can pray at school events
• I can work way past retirement age, because social programs are a sign of weakness.
• I can get an abortion, maybe. And only after my husband's been notified
• I can pay less tax and still complain when the government doesn't run smoothly
• I can expand offshore drilling
• I can fight an unwinnable war for decades

Got any others to add?

Yesterday, I wore a cardigan, a bow tie and my tortoise shell plastic glasses to church. I could not have looked more poindexter-y if I were actively trying. Though, my intellectual garb did help when I was glowering over the speaker who spoke in favor of Prop 8.

I also spent a large chunk of yesterday watching episodes of Brothers & Sisters. I rather like this show, but I started noticing with the second season how each of the characters really only faces one issue. Justin is the addicted war vet, Kitty is the politico, Sarah is coping with family/work balance as a working, now divorced, mother, and Kevin is a relationship-phobic gay man. Whenever we see the characters, they're either coping with their topical trouble or are interacting with other family members on theirs. Because I've just noticed this (I'm nothing if not an indulgent viewer), they're starting to seem a bit flat. Even now, when they're trying to pull other dimensions to these characters' lives (like Kitty's Kinderlust), they don't come off as entirely authentic.

I wonder, though, if this isn't the appeal of the show. Rather than being a show about a single person coping with a wide-range of life challenges, B&S manages to make itself identifiable on a level that transcends personality. Viewers aren't forced to agree or identify with a real human, but with a shorthand version of a personal struggle, something they've probably faced themselves in a slightly different twist. In this sense, it's sort of like a well-crafted, disguised modern morality play. It helps that the writing is crisp, the acting spot-on and heartstrings just sufficiently tugged.

If I were a real cultural studies type, I'd probably spend some time writing academic articles about this series. One thing that'd be really interesting is to track is the amount of time spent on each Walker family member. If the show runs for several seasons (which it should, since it's one of the best serial dramas on right now), you could then even watch the evolution of issues across time and the concerns of the general public. Or explore which two characters/issues interact the most and what the intent of the writers is in doing that. Sigh...I really should just go back to academia, shouldn't I?

I had a very typical alea moment yesterday in church. Our Elders' Quorum lesson focused on home teaching. Of course, there were the standard comments that we need to do it so that the sisters have the priesthood in their homes (a problematic position, given the fact that brethren also need that same priesthood and because I feel like giving blessings is a fairly minor function of the ward teaching effort). So, basically, it was the same lesson you get about once a year in EQ.

Some background first: I'm at a point right now where I'm not too keen on the Church. In fact, I'm sort of Jack Twist-y about it all, what with wishing I knew how to quit it and all that jazz. In my current mood, I was convinced that I would turn out a home teaching route. I think it'd be better for all parties involved, plus I'm not sure I'm even allowed to have a route right now. The lesson, therefore, wasn't really high on my list of things to care about.

Then, at the end of the hour, the president of the quorum read off the companionships. My name was not included. I felt a bit angry about that. Then, just as I was heating up to it, I realized that, really, my ward had no way to win with me on this one and I was being silly. I ought to just back off, I figure. Though, maybe I should allow those irritations to grow, because the awesome Sunday School teacher that had pretty much kept me active with her lessons left the ward yesterday. It's a sad day to be sure.

A couple days ago, I finished the book The White Tiger. It's been long-listed for the Booker this year and is a nice mixture of really funny moments and terribly sad ones. Well, the whole novel is run through with a sense of despair, so maybe there's just some really funny ways of looking at all that degradation. Should some enterprising grad student need a topic for a contemporary fiction class, take this one: Compare the attitudes and modes of service found in the servant character-narrators of Remains of the Day and The White Tiger. (Can we just pause for a minute to smile at the fact that, in England, literary prizes are part of the provenance of bookies? And that there are odds for presumed winners?)

I realized, after listing this book in my journal of books read, that I somehow managed to go the entire month of July without completing a single novel. How did this happen? I blame Gilmore Girls, mostly. Because, see, my family and I are working our way through all seven seasons. Now, if I were watching them by myself, this would be a three week project. As it is, we've spent a solid two months chipping away at them, one or two episodes a night. So, that saps my evenings. Then, we've got the new morning church, so that cuts into my Sunday am reading. Also, being in class two nights a week doesn't help.

Really, though, I think I'm getting sort of intellectually lazy. I don't think as much, or as thoroughly, about anything any more. I've been ruined and I'm not sure what's the culprit. Maybe it's my working life, where I've just this week been informed, will now include doing financial aid appointments with students. Apparently, running a library, riding shotgun for student affairs, pinch-hitting in the bookstore, ordering textbooks, chairing a scholarship committee and being the errand boy for the academic team adds up to "having a lot of free time" and "being able to help out during this crisis". I have all sorts of bad things to say about this, but I'll probably just get too worked up if I start. On the plus side, being trained in yet another area will make me that much more employable, if suddenly all those predictions come true and libraries cease to exist in five years.

At any rate, I should get back into the habit of reading. Especially if I'm hoping to get all the Booker longlist read before they announce the winner. And then, I can scoff when Rushdie has another accolade. Because, c'mon, doesn't anyone else deserve a little something-something, Man Group?