Being Nice.

I am eternally thankful for my courageous friends.

For every mercy I have received in life, none have been greater than those which have helped to correct or curb whatever fatal flaws I may have. Some friends have courageously plucked me up and chastised me for whatever stupidity I might be engaging in. Others have lived by an example so powerful that I could not help but be impressed -- and inspired to emulate. (It's an ongoing process...)

Some I have met in the flesh -- others have spoken to me through the decades (or the ages) via great books and wise words and beautiful music.

One truth rings out at me daily: that I am my brother's keeper. Had others not believed this simple truth, I'd be in a much sorrier state in life, be it my moral life or professional career. If they had the courage to live this creed on my behalf, then I would be a coward to do otherwise.

I recently lost a friend. This person chose to remove their person from my life because I happen to state "contentious" opinions in a written forum. Despite every kindness and patience I had shown this person in reality, they found my "crazy" and "illogical" opinions on such issues as abortion to be too much to deal with (even though we never once debated them personally.) They had to "remove such negativity" from their lives.

In sorrowing over this lost friendship, I was reminded by a friend that "anger is often the first response to truth." In listening to a talk by Fr. Corapi today -- a great warrior in his own right -- I was reminded that "I am my brother's keeper." Fr. Corapi reminded me that losing a friendship is not as painful as losing self-respect, or as painful as sitting idly by why insanity reigns, or as painful as losing my very soul.

Why do I blog? Well, partly -- and to be honest -- it helps relieve inner frustrations, all while getting the creative juices flowing for composition. Before blogging existed, I had saved many pages of commentaries, all necessary venting before the deeper expression. (Yes, for better or worse, I've been critiquing society and writing commentaries since the first grade.)

Yet I've discovered that such simple public postings go much deeper. We all have particularly keen abilities and viewpoints, "angles on truth" if you will. We have them in order to share them, and in sharing them, I have found immense blessings in return.

What is our greatest calling in life? To be our brother's keeper. C.S. Lewis reminds us that there are only two paths in life -- that to eternal glory, or eternal horror. Our every interaction with another person, be it trivial or otherwise, pushes them in one of two directions. When all is said and done, even those straddling the fence will be blown in only one direction. (Think of that the next time you cut somebody off in busy traffic!)

It is a painful reality, and one that we all sense in some level of our being. Some embrace it and live accordingly, others run and deny for as long as they have breath. Yet one thing has become clear to me:

Being nice -- or "tolerant" -- earns no points in eternity. Absolutely none.

Martin Luther King Jr wasn't "nice" or tolerant. He was a brilliant firebrand. Gandhi may have been passive, but he wasn't tolerant -- he fought evil with the fierce fire of peace. None of the great preachers or prophets were "nice guys."

In fact, as Father Corapi reminds us, most Churches would send a modern-day Jesus Christ into sensitivity training. In seeking to emulate the greats -- as we should -- we soon learn that niceness and tolerance don't go very far. Only goodness reigns, and goodness can be difficult.

Our initial brushes with Truth (capital T) reveal a cold, hard reality. There is no tolerance for "interpretations," no room for semantics, no expectations of niceness. There is only the necessity for change, the need to let go, and, in the end, only...

Joy.

A friend once reminded me that "nice guys don't go to heaven. But good men do." Being "good" necessarily entails that you live courageously (even when you're afraid), and virtually guaruntees that you'll ruffle some feathers along the way. Do it anyways, and trust in posterity to correct the collateral damage.

When I write, I don't do it to ruffle feathers, or to express egotism, or to alienate friends. I do it to humbly pass along the wisdom which has found itself at my doorstep, the very same wisdom that I struggle daily to accumulate into my very flawed life. If there is fire to my words, it is because I also do it in defiance of an age where opinion has trumped reason, while belief is eroniously held to be a private matter.

I do it because I am my brother's keeper, whether I like it or not.

Politics of the Absurd

Republicans have their Obama: more on that in a bit. But first:

For once, I have to agree with Hilary. The criticism leveled towards her comments regarding the role of superdelegates is absurd.

We do not live in a real democracy. In fact, in a nation of this size, it would be impossible to live in a real democracy. Imagine the time it would take to vote on all of our most important issues: the time in research, debate, and the voting act itself would add-up into a full-time job.

America is merely a quasi-democracy. A trusteeship.

Senators are trustees, and one would hope that they think carefully and independently about their decisions, as opposed to simply towing the party line.

The Supreme Court -- the real power in our nation -- is not elected, nor are they expected to follow the line of political popularity.

Superdelegates are an intellectual stop-gap measure fully in line with our democratically elected trusteeship system. They exist as one of many measures to temper our voting system. After all, it is just as easy to have a tyranny of one man, as a tyranny of the vulgar masses. Liberal populist rhetoric is nothing more than posturing to earn the votes of the "common man."

In other news, the Republicans now have their own Obama: The young, charismatic, conservative and INDIAN governor of Louisiana, Bobby Jindal, almost comes across as an Obama understudy. Whether now or in the future, this man seems to have a bright political career ahead of him.

My prediction? McCain will pick Vindal as his Vice President and Obama-antidote. He's little known but highly skilled before a camera, and could become Republican secret-weapon. It may be wishful thinking, but such a move would make an already fascinating election even more interesting.

The single most instructive thing I've done in the past 5 years is when a roommate of mine and I decided to "not have television." We went through withdrawal... we felt "disconnected." Then, something interesting began to happen: we spoke more, had deep conversations, read many more books, learned to enjoy silence, the crackle of a fireplace, the subtle changes of the season, and ended up much happier and well-informed in the end. Now, I still don't keep cable. It's wonderful.

Whenever I criticize pop culture and the "hidden meanings" on the television set, I'm usually told that I'm being "too serious", and that it's "just for fun." Well, perhaps recent public events have proved my point, beyond a reasonable doubt.

Take Anna Nicole Smith, for one. Yes, her death is tragic. Equally tragic is the amount of media coverage it has received... but... yet... perhaps we can learn something?

Anna Nicole Smith is a victim of the American media. Snatched up by Playboy before she was old enough to make a good decision, her naked frame was suddenly on display across the globe. Then there was the popular Guess Jeans commercials... a few years and a few hundred pounds later, there was the "Anna Nicole Smith" show. Admit it -- you watched at least one episode. In this show, Anna displayed her lack of mental competence, her myriad of personal problems, and the ultimate disaster of her life. Americans -- trained to enjoy the sight of a train-wreck in progress -- ate it up. Then, of course, a few hundred LESS pounds (and one tv cancellation later), she strutted to the awards podium, a new skinny body in tow, and fingered her cleavage in front of America, saying "don't you like my body?"

When I heard the news of her death, I wasn't even the least bit surprised. Lest you think I'm making fun of the poor girl: I feel sorry for her. She was a poor simpleton, taken advantage of by the system. We loving watching disasters, even if it means taking someone's life.

Moving on: everywhere I turn, I see a picture of a bald, butch-looking Britney. This is scary, because I NEVER go on website (or television channels) dedicated to this garbage. Yet it follows me everywhere. Not caring, I still have no choice but to know about it.

Are you actually surprised by this turn of events? Another simpleton, dressed up pretty for the world to see, coming crashing down. Very surprising indeed, considering the pristine record of past hollywood starlets. May I suggest that any woman willing to turn herself into an object of public consumption is already a few cards short of a full deck: such meltdowns are bound to happen, as this is not how God intended for people to live.

Anna and Britney prove my point... our pop culture is poisonous. Throw in a Snoop Dog, an Eminem, reality television, and a public drooling over Al Gore... Then turn the mirror: the reflection shows a shallow public, bored with their own lives, devoid of any ability to recognize artistic talent, devoid of any sense of needing to support artistic talent, immoral (or ammoral at best), and certainly not the sort of Americans our great forefathers fought for.

Thanks to the power of mass media, we can spread our disease to the rest of the world.

The recent Oscars (which, yes, I did watch) were a wonderful disease-spreader: It all started with a heartwrenching pre-show interview with poor gay Ellen, and later becoming a love-fest of far-left insanity..er..values. The public gushed over Al Gore's quasi-science. They applauded when Melissa Etheridge kissed her girlfriend on national television. "Jesus Camp", for all it's ridiculousness, was nominated for an Oscar! They were simply overjoyed at the affirmative-action basis for selecting winners... watching the Oscars, you would wonder if there was a single heterosexual conservative white male anywhere in the bunch... We should have called it "pick your mental disorder" night.

Do you still think I'm being "too serious" about all of this? Perhaps, then, you need to turn the mirror on yourself, and open your eyes. Whether or not you're religious, I encourage you to take up the Lenten spirit: give up television for the next forty days. You'll be surprised at what happens.