I think Ayn Rand's use of Social Security and Medicare may very well prove by example that her conception of capitalistic self-interest is ultimately self-refuting. And by 'capitalistic self-interest' I mean the idealization in her moral philosophy of greed (self-interest) over altruism (common good), competition over cooperation, privatization over public ownership, etc. In other words, it seems to me that it was in her best self-interest to take advantage of the very altruistic ideals and services she decried as a "basic evil."
Of course, one may counter that she already paid into the system, so she was entitled to receive those benefits and it was in her best interest to do so, meaning she wasn't a hypocrite and was still being true to her Objectivist philosophy despite receiving benefits. That may be true; however, I think it shows a weakness in her philosophy because (1) one can argue that most recipients of Social Security and Medicare pay into the system and are entitled to receive those benefits, and (2) even if she hadn't paid into the system via taxes, she probably still didn't make enough money as a writer to pay for her own surgery and other medical bills without risking financial ruin and there's no guarantee she would've invested the additional income in such as way as to support all her medical and living expenses.
The first weakness I see here is that she was vehemently opposed the system itself, which she viewed as morally wrong, and essentially called the people who use it "parasites," looters" and moochers." Part of this is based on the assumption that the money is taken from the heroic producers and given to lazy dead-beats who should've simply worked harder and saved for things like cancer surgery themselves. But, instead of doing that herself, she applied for and received benefits under the justification that, like most people who receive them, she'd already paid into the system and was therefore entitled to these benefits.
To me, this undermines the idea that the majority of people who use and otherwise perpetuate the system are "parasites," "looters" and "moochers" because they too have paid into the system, with payments based on lifetime earnings (which, of course, are taxed). If she isn't a parasite for using the system, then most of the people who use it aren't either. This includes people like my mother, who worked hard her whole life until she ended up getting sick and became unable to work.
The second weakness has to do with her illness itself. Rand was big on personal responsibility and the idea that we're responsible for making good decisions, along with reaping the fruits of our own labour. However, Rand herself basically ignored all the evidence that smoking was harmful, and eventually developed lung cancer. It seems to me that, according to her own philosophy, she should've taken responsibility for her smoking and paid for her own medical needs from the money she earned and saved from her writing career. Instead, she signed up for Social Security because she felt entitled to it. By that reasoning, everyone who pays into Social Security is entitled to it, including people who get sick from their own risky behaviour.
This, I think, undermines much of her moral philosophy when it comes to its stress on individualism and personal responsibility. If a successful writer has trouble paying her medical bills and needs help, why shouldn't everyone else who's worked hard but is still unable to afford all the care they need get it? What's so morally wrong with a system that attempts to provide such a safety net? Is a system of taxation and redistribution really more morally reprehensible than a system which lets the sick, poor and elderly die due to lack of means? Charity only goes so far.
I don't have an issue with people who are critical of the government's management of the system (it can definitely be improved), or even those who take the position that taxes are stealing (for those who don't wish to pay them, I suppose they are; although, I don't see how a complex, modern civil society can function without taxes, especially considering how interconnected everything is, and most people I know pay them willing). But I do have an issue with a moral philosophy that more or less blames the victim for being a victim.
Despite all her rhetoric, when push came to shove, she needed the state's help via the very same system of taxation and redistribution she decried as a basic evil, and was as much of a "parasite," "looter" and "moocher" as she accused other users of the system to be. Why? Because, ironically enough, it was in her best self-interest; the so-called "welfare state" that she spent her literary career attacking saved her life and allowed her to live another eight years railing against it. Instead of the productive hero, she became just another "parasite," only one intent on killing the host.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
coffee, dreams and ice cream sandwiches
I'm at yet another crossroads in my life. Everything has changed. I've lost my job. I've lost my direction in life. I've lost my confidence in myself. I have so many new choices to make, and I'm so afraid of making the wrong ones, that most days I just sit and stare at the computer screen, hoping, waiting. For what, I don't know—something, anything: a sign, a vision, a kick in the ass.
In some ways it's exciting. I'm free to choose a new path. A new job, perhaps. Or maybe an extended stay at monastery; it's been so long since I've done that. I could visit my friends and family back in Michigan. And there's always Santa Cruz. I still know people there. But then there are practical matters that have to be considered as well. Time sensitive things like taxes, doctor's appointments, other things that I can't quite bring myself to think about right now. Same old, same old, I guess.
I think I like to procrastinate, putting off decisions and stressful situations until the very last moment, when I'm finally forced to deal with them. I hate being forced to make decisions. I hate having time limits. Tick, tick, tick, BUZZ! I also don't handle stress very well. It gives me stomach problems. I can already feel the tightness. And I haven't been sleeping well, either. Maybe it's depression. Who knows?
Guess what I had for breakfast today: an ice cream sandwich, and it was delicious. That's been the best part of my day so far. It's not important. It doesn't have any particular significance. It was just nice. How I cherish the simplicity of 'nice.' The older I get, the harder it seems for me to simply enjoy something for what it is, to ignore the incessant chatter in my mind. "How are you going to pay your bills?" "What if the doctor says you need surgery?" "If you don't visit now, you may not get another chance for a long time." "That ice cream will go straight to your hips." It never shuts up.
All this time has given me nothing but time to think. Think, think, think. Thinking too much is bad for you, I've decided. I've single-handedly thought myself into a lonely despair. I think the world is conspiring against me, even my friends and family. I have proof, you know. It's right here, all in my head, swimming with caffeine.
I want another cup of coffee, but I know it'll just make me jittery. More than one is never good for me if I'm not doing something, like working or talking to someone. I'd really like to have a nice chat over a cup of coffee right now. I haven't done that in a long time, either. A nice chat over a bottle of red wine might be even better. But I don't feel like wine. I feel like coffee. I love the way it smells. Its warmth. The way it can be smooth and bitter at the same time. Tea is nice, I suppose, but it's not quite the same. Maybe it's too subtle for me to fully appreciate.
I appreciate a lot of things, though, especially people. I appreciate people who can actually put up with me (the real me that is) seeing as they're so rare. (I've been told I'm too negative and it's true.) I appreciate the random acts of kindness that people show towards others, like the guy who gave me a free lunch when he found out I lost my job. I feel bad I don't even know his name. I appreciate the beauty of full-moons and the hope they can inspire (but don't tell Annie that, I'll never hear the end of it).
Life isn't all bad. It seems that way to me sometimes, but I know it's not true. It's just complicated. It doesn't have to be, but we make it that way. It's a strange compulsion, making life more complicated that it has to be. I think we do this in the name of progress, whatever that means. It doesn't mean much to be at the moment. I'm more interested in happiness. I think we all are, but I think we're confused about what real happiness is.
Happiness. A simple word for a simple concept, and yet it constantly eludes me. I wonder why that is? Maybe it's like that one saying, "You can chase a butterfly all over the field and never catch it. But if you sit quietly in the grass it will come and sit on your shoulder." Maybe it eludes me because I chase after it like a fool. But if you never chase your dreams, you'll never catch them, right? Dreams. Reminds me of a song: "Dreams, in the night, they're falling like rain / Dreams, in the night, they drive me insane."
Then again, you don't want to catch a cold. Maybe dreams are the same. Maybe they're not something you want to catch. Dream a Little Dream was a pretty awful movie, after all. But I sure could use a rebellious Corey Feldman kicking my subconscious in the ass or a stoic Jason Robards to help put my messed up life back together for me. If only life could be like the movies.
In some ways it's exciting. I'm free to choose a new path. A new job, perhaps. Or maybe an extended stay at monastery; it's been so long since I've done that. I could visit my friends and family back in Michigan. And there's always Santa Cruz. I still know people there. But then there are practical matters that have to be considered as well. Time sensitive things like taxes, doctor's appointments, other things that I can't quite bring myself to think about right now. Same old, same old, I guess.
I think I like to procrastinate, putting off decisions and stressful situations until the very last moment, when I'm finally forced to deal with them. I hate being forced to make decisions. I hate having time limits. Tick, tick, tick, BUZZ! I also don't handle stress very well. It gives me stomach problems. I can already feel the tightness. And I haven't been sleeping well, either. Maybe it's depression. Who knows?
Guess what I had for breakfast today: an ice cream sandwich, and it was delicious. That's been the best part of my day so far. It's not important. It doesn't have any particular significance. It was just nice. How I cherish the simplicity of 'nice.' The older I get, the harder it seems for me to simply enjoy something for what it is, to ignore the incessant chatter in my mind. "How are you going to pay your bills?" "What if the doctor says you need surgery?" "If you don't visit now, you may not get another chance for a long time." "That ice cream will go straight to your hips." It never shuts up.
All this time has given me nothing but time to think. Think, think, think. Thinking too much is bad for you, I've decided. I've single-handedly thought myself into a lonely despair. I think the world is conspiring against me, even my friends and family. I have proof, you know. It's right here, all in my head, swimming with caffeine.
I want another cup of coffee, but I know it'll just make me jittery. More than one is never good for me if I'm not doing something, like working or talking to someone. I'd really like to have a nice chat over a cup of coffee right now. I haven't done that in a long time, either. A nice chat over a bottle of red wine might be even better. But I don't feel like wine. I feel like coffee. I love the way it smells. Its warmth. The way it can be smooth and bitter at the same time. Tea is nice, I suppose, but it's not quite the same. Maybe it's too subtle for me to fully appreciate.
I appreciate a lot of things, though, especially people. I appreciate people who can actually put up with me (the real me that is) seeing as they're so rare. (I've been told I'm too negative and it's true.) I appreciate the random acts of kindness that people show towards others, like the guy who gave me a free lunch when he found out I lost my job. I feel bad I don't even know his name. I appreciate the beauty of full-moons and the hope they can inspire (but don't tell Annie that, I'll never hear the end of it).
Life isn't all bad. It seems that way to me sometimes, but I know it's not true. It's just complicated. It doesn't have to be, but we make it that way. It's a strange compulsion, making life more complicated that it has to be. I think we do this in the name of progress, whatever that means. It doesn't mean much to be at the moment. I'm more interested in happiness. I think we all are, but I think we're confused about what real happiness is.
Happiness. A simple word for a simple concept, and yet it constantly eludes me. I wonder why that is? Maybe it's like that one saying, "You can chase a butterfly all over the field and never catch it. But if you sit quietly in the grass it will come and sit on your shoulder." Maybe it eludes me because I chase after it like a fool. But if you never chase your dreams, you'll never catch them, right? Dreams. Reminds me of a song: "Dreams, in the night, they're falling like rain / Dreams, in the night, they drive me insane."
Then again, you don't want to catch a cold. Maybe dreams are the same. Maybe they're not something you want to catch. Dream a Little Dream was a pretty awful movie, after all. But I sure could use a rebellious Corey Feldman kicking my subconscious in the ass or a stoic Jason Robards to help put my messed up life back together for me. If only life could be like the movies.
Monday, January 10, 2011
relativity... no true centre... paper bag... fml
For anyone interested, here's a brief explanation of my underlying skepticism regarding objectivity that I sent to a friend of mine — which I originally attempted to reference while trying to make some bullshit ass argument up involving idealism, Darwinism, Buddhism, historical materialism, Zizek and the General Theory of Relativity — but came out as, "Relativity... no true centre... paper bag... Shit, just google 'relativity' and 'no true centre'!" Maybe someone more knowledgeable than myself can help me out here.
Since I did such a bad job of it at Bar of the Gods, I just want to clarify that what I was trying to say the other night concerning relativity is that, the way I see it, making truly objective statements when dealing with relative frames of reference can be problematic. For one thing, it raises questions like, Can certain statements really be said to be objectively true if and when their truth or validity is dependent upon the reference frame (or point of view) of the observer?
If, according to relativity, all reference frames are equally valid, many so-called objective statements become relative (i.e., based on the frame of reference of the observer). For example, the statement 'The Earth revolves around the Sun' is a seemingly objective one. It's a true and valid statement from a particular frame of reference. But at the same time, relativity states that there's no single, true frame of reference or centre to anything, so a geocentric frame (or one utilizing the entire solar system, for that mater) can be just as true and valid as a heliocentric—the mathematics work in any reference frame.
As Einstein puts it in his paper, The Foundation of the General Theory of Relativity, "That this requirement of general co-variance, which takes away from space and time the last remnant of physical objectivity, is a natural one, will be seen from the following reflexion (sic). All our space-time verifications invariably amount to a determination of space-time coincidences. Moreover, the results of our measurings are nothing but verifications of such meetings of the material points of our measuring instruments with other material points, coincidences between the hands of a clock and points on the clock-dial, and observed point-events happening at the same place at the same time. "
Of course, this doesn't mean that specific frames of reference aren't functionally more useful in certain contexts, or that a certain frames isn't a more accurate description of reality, but I do think it means that making truly objective statements about them can be tricky, especially when phrased sloppily. For example, the above statement, 'The Earth revolves around the Sun,' could be amended to say, 'For an observer who's at rest on the surface of the Sun, the Earth rotates around the Sun' and I think it'd be closer to the truth.
But relativity doesn't just make it difficult to make truly objective statements about observations regarding spatial relations; it has consequences in other areas as well, such as measurementation. Things like the observed length of an object, for example, actually depends on the speed of the observer with respect to the object, while similar variables affect an object's mass, which changes with velocity. This means that objective statements about these phenomena are more or less dependent upon specifically defined variables, which are often easier and more accurately expressed mathematically than verbally.
This doesn't mean I don't think there's an objective reality existing apart from my mind, or that we can't express that reality in words, but I do think that making truly objective statements about that reality is a difficult thing to do because I believe that (1) we often unconsciously project objective existence onto phenomena that aren't, in all actuality, independent of the frame of reference of the observer and (2) the ways in which we describe an objective truth can change based upon the amount and quality of the information we have (e.g., gravity as a pulling force vs. a curvature of space-time due to an object's mass.) And this is one of the reasons why I guess I have a difficult time rejecting certain aspects of postmodern thought.
Of course, this is a very muddled argument, and I'm sure my understanding of relativity is way off, but I'm using it mainly to illustrate some of the underlying ideas behind my tentative skepticism regarding objectivity. As much as I've argued against others about notions like objective truth being nothing more than inter-subjective agreement (e.g., arguing that the unknown contents of a paper bag is what it is regardless of what people may think and agree it is), I still find areas where postmodernism is harder to argue against, (e.g., the idea that, as observers, we're governed by perspectives).
Since I did such a bad job of it at Bar of the Gods, I just want to clarify that what I was trying to say the other night concerning relativity is that, the way I see it, making truly objective statements when dealing with relative frames of reference can be problematic. For one thing, it raises questions like, Can certain statements really be said to be objectively true if and when their truth or validity is dependent upon the reference frame (or point of view) of the observer?
If, according to relativity, all reference frames are equally valid, many so-called objective statements become relative (i.e., based on the frame of reference of the observer). For example, the statement 'The Earth revolves around the Sun' is a seemingly objective one. It's a true and valid statement from a particular frame of reference. But at the same time, relativity states that there's no single, true frame of reference or centre to anything, so a geocentric frame (or one utilizing the entire solar system, for that mater) can be just as true and valid as a heliocentric—the mathematics work in any reference frame.
As Einstein puts it in his paper, The Foundation of the General Theory of Relativity, "That this requirement of general co-variance, which takes away from space and time the last remnant of physical objectivity, is a natural one, will be seen from the following reflexion (sic). All our space-time verifications invariably amount to a determination of space-time coincidences. Moreover, the results of our measurings are nothing but verifications of such meetings of the material points of our measuring instruments with other material points, coincidences between the hands of a clock and points on the clock-dial, and observed point-events happening at the same place at the same time. "
Of course, this doesn't mean that specific frames of reference aren't functionally more useful in certain contexts, or that a certain frames isn't a more accurate description of reality, but I do think it means that making truly objective statements about them can be tricky, especially when phrased sloppily. For example, the above statement, 'The Earth revolves around the Sun,' could be amended to say, 'For an observer who's at rest on the surface of the Sun, the Earth rotates around the Sun' and I think it'd be closer to the truth.
But relativity doesn't just make it difficult to make truly objective statements about observations regarding spatial relations; it has consequences in other areas as well, such as measurementation. Things like the observed length of an object, for example, actually depends on the speed of the observer with respect to the object, while similar variables affect an object's mass, which changes with velocity. This means that objective statements about these phenomena are more or less dependent upon specifically defined variables, which are often easier and more accurately expressed mathematically than verbally.
This doesn't mean I don't think there's an objective reality existing apart from my mind, or that we can't express that reality in words, but I do think that making truly objective statements about that reality is a difficult thing to do because I believe that (1) we often unconsciously project objective existence onto phenomena that aren't, in all actuality, independent of the frame of reference of the observer and (2) the ways in which we describe an objective truth can change based upon the amount and quality of the information we have (e.g., gravity as a pulling force vs. a curvature of space-time due to an object's mass.) And this is one of the reasons why I guess I have a difficult time rejecting certain aspects of postmodern thought.
Of course, this is a very muddled argument, and I'm sure my understanding of relativity is way off, but I'm using it mainly to illustrate some of the underlying ideas behind my tentative skepticism regarding objectivity. As much as I've argued against others about notions like objective truth being nothing more than inter-subjective agreement (e.g., arguing that the unknown contents of a paper bag is what it is regardless of what people may think and agree it is), I still find areas where postmodernism is harder to argue against, (e.g., the idea that, as observers, we're governed by perspectives).
Saturday, December 25, 2010
merry christmas
To be honest, I don't believe in a creator God, nor, as a consequence, do I believe that Jesus is the son of God/God in the flesh. Nevertheless, I do have a soft spot for Jesus as a spiritual teacher, and I think some of the things he's reported as saying in the New Testament are pretty cool—I especially like, "Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone" (John 8:7), the Sermon on the Mount and his many teachings on forgiveness.
I've also found a growing appreciation for Christianity in general (although I do tend to lean more towards the heterodox), thanks in part to my dear friend, Simon (e.g., see my fairly recent blog post, "a new found appreciation").
That said, it's mainly because this day isn't just about the birth of Jesus that I find myself 'getting into the Christmas spirit.' Not only was this a time of celebration for a host of other ancient winter festivals (e.g., Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, Saturnalia, Yule, etc.), but it's the season that in modern times has been traditionally set aside for warm tidings and communion, regardless of who you are or what you believe, which is why I don't have any qualms about wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas.
I've also found a growing appreciation for Christianity in general (although I do tend to lean more towards the heterodox), thanks in part to my dear friend, Simon (e.g., see my fairly recent blog post, "a new found appreciation").
That said, it's mainly because this day isn't just about the birth of Jesus that I find myself 'getting into the Christmas spirit.' Not only was this a time of celebration for a host of other ancient winter festivals (e.g., Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, Saturnalia, Yule, etc.), but it's the season that in modern times has been traditionally set aside for warm tidings and communion, regardless of who you are or what you believe, which is why I don't have any qualms about wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas.
Friday, December 10, 2010
need over greed: just say no to extending tax cuts for the wealthy
Today I was listening to parts of Senator Bernie Sanders' 8 1/2 hour filibuster (well, not technically since the vote isn't scheduled until Monday) of President Obama's tax cut deal with Republicans (calling it "Robin Hood in reverse") and found myself agreeing with a lot of what he said.
Nevertheless, there's a lot of support for the deal among Democrats since it also includes an extension of unemployment benefits for an additional 13 months, and most conservatives (as well as many liberals) believe that raising taxes during a recession for anyone, especially the wealthy, is a terrible idea. I don't necessarily agree with that, though, and here's why:
A. According to the National Bureau of Economic Research, the recession is over, and has been since June 2009.
B. The tax cuts, which were unfunded and arguably removed a substantial amount of revenue from the federal budget, were meant to be temporary. Taxes wouldn't be 'raised' so much as they'd simply go back to 2003 rates once they naturally expire at the end of this year.
C. I think some good arguments can be made for allowing the tax cuts to expire for people making more than $250,000 a year while extending the ones for those making less. For one thing, people making less than $250,000 generally spend a larger portion of their income instead of saving it (mostly out of necessity), which helps to stimulate the economy (for those of you who get excited about that kind of thing).
Conversely, according to an article in Bloomberg, tax cuts for people making considerably more don't really do much to help to stimulate the economy because, much like Plato's oligarch in the Republic, they tend to save (read 'hoard') it.
In addition, worker's average real wages (i.e., wages that are adjusted for inflation) rose every decade from 1820 to 1970, but have essentially stagnated for the last 30 years. Moreover, the majority of the increase in income there has been since 1980 (about 80%) has gone to the top 1%, and according to an article in Slate, "virtually none of the increase translated into wage growth at middle and lower incomes."
D. As Warren Buffet famously pointed out, the top 1% pay a lower percentage of their income in taxes than people who make considerably less. Using himself as an example, he paid 17.7% on the $46 million he made in 2007 while his secretary paid 30% on the $60,000 she made in the same year.
I think this is mainly due to the fact that the wealthiest Americans get the majority of their income from capital gains (e.g., Gerald Scorse points out that the top 1% owns nearly 40% of all privately held stock), which is taxed at a much lower rate than wages. Plus, there are a variety of deductions and loopholes that favour those at the top.
E. According to Donald Cohen, executive director for the Center on Policy Initiatives, this is the first time in our nation's history that we've "sent troops to battle without raising the revenues needed to fight that war."
Since 1812, the US government has either raised existing rates or instituted new taxes during wartime in order to fund its war efforts; however, Bush, in the midst of 2 separate conflicts, actually cut taxes. The more than $1 trillion dollars we've spent to fund the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan is essentially money that we've borrowed, particularly from countries like China and Japan.
What all of this means to me is that, at the very least, we shouldn't allow these tax cuts to become permanent. And if there is to be some sort of extension, I think it makes more sense to extend them for the people who'll actually spend the additional income (and who arguably need it more), thereby spurring demand and stimulating the economy, rather than the people who'll most likely tuck it away (and who arguable need it less).
That's why I completely agree with Sen. Sanders that instead of fighting to extend the unfunded Bush-era tax cuts — particularly for those making over $250,000 — Congress should be focusing on extending unemployment benefits for the over 2 million out of work Americans who desperately need it.
Nevertheless, there's a lot of support for the deal among Democrats since it also includes an extension of unemployment benefits for an additional 13 months, and most conservatives (as well as many liberals) believe that raising taxes during a recession for anyone, especially the wealthy, is a terrible idea. I don't necessarily agree with that, though, and here's why:
A. According to the National Bureau of Economic Research, the recession is over, and has been since June 2009.
B. The tax cuts, which were unfunded and arguably removed a substantial amount of revenue from the federal budget, were meant to be temporary. Taxes wouldn't be 'raised' so much as they'd simply go back to 2003 rates once they naturally expire at the end of this year.
C. I think some good arguments can be made for allowing the tax cuts to expire for people making more than $250,000 a year while extending the ones for those making less. For one thing, people making less than $250,000 generally spend a larger portion of their income instead of saving it (mostly out of necessity), which helps to stimulate the economy (for those of you who get excited about that kind of thing).
Conversely, according to an article in Bloomberg, tax cuts for people making considerably more don't really do much to help to stimulate the economy because, much like Plato's oligarch in the Republic, they tend to save (read 'hoard') it.
In addition, worker's average real wages (i.e., wages that are adjusted for inflation) rose every decade from 1820 to 1970, but have essentially stagnated for the last 30 years. Moreover, the majority of the increase in income there has been since 1980 (about 80%) has gone to the top 1%, and according to an article in Slate, "virtually none of the increase translated into wage growth at middle and lower incomes."
D. As Warren Buffet famously pointed out, the top 1% pay a lower percentage of their income in taxes than people who make considerably less. Using himself as an example, he paid 17.7% on the $46 million he made in 2007 while his secretary paid 30% on the $60,000 she made in the same year.
I think this is mainly due to the fact that the wealthiest Americans get the majority of their income from capital gains (e.g., Gerald Scorse points out that the top 1% owns nearly 40% of all privately held stock), which is taxed at a much lower rate than wages. Plus, there are a variety of deductions and loopholes that favour those at the top.
E. According to Donald Cohen, executive director for the Center on Policy Initiatives, this is the first time in our nation's history that we've "sent troops to battle without raising the revenues needed to fight that war."
Since 1812, the US government has either raised existing rates or instituted new taxes during wartime in order to fund its war efforts; however, Bush, in the midst of 2 separate conflicts, actually cut taxes. The more than $1 trillion dollars we've spent to fund the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan is essentially money that we've borrowed, particularly from countries like China and Japan.
What all of this means to me is that, at the very least, we shouldn't allow these tax cuts to become permanent. And if there is to be some sort of extension, I think it makes more sense to extend them for the people who'll actually spend the additional income (and who arguably need it more), thereby spurring demand and stimulating the economy, rather than the people who'll most likely tuck it away (and who arguable need it less).
That's why I completely agree with Sen. Sanders that instead of fighting to extend the unfunded Bush-era tax cuts — particularly for those making over $250,000 — Congress should be focusing on extending unemployment benefits for the over 2 million out of work Americans who desperately need it.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
re: ethno-religious race baiting needs to stop
Today, I received this comment to my relatively recent post, ethno-religious race baiting needs to stop:
To be honest, I have mixed ideas about this. On the one hand, religion is, among other things, a creative expression of our search for happiness, meaning and truth in a seemingly infinite universe. Religion can be a beautiful thing that brings communities together, as well as bring individuals closer to a happiness that transcends much of the suffering and unsatisfactoriness seemingly inherent in this fragile thing we call life.
I've heard people express their desire to "kill religion" (e.g., Dawkins et al.), and I can understand some of their reasoning for making such statements, especially when you have people using religion to justify suicide bombing and discrimination against gays, women, etc., but I also can't help but think that doing so would come at a great cost to humanity in that we'd be losing an important part of what makes us human.
On the other hand, religion is, admittedly, being used to justify and even instigate violence and oppression, and that's a real problem. Nevertheless, I think that when we dig a little bit deeper, it becomes apparent that there's a lot more going on than meets the eye. For one thing, it's not just the religions themselves that need to be scrutinized, but also the cultures that are influenced by these religious traditions and in which these religions traditions initially took shape.
I think it's fair to say that certain people and cultures are more intolerant and prone to using religious teachings to justify violence, but I'm not sure it's fair to single out a specific religion, such as Islam, for example, because, they way I see it, it's not religion that makes people dangerous so much as it's people who make religion dangerous. And the same can be said about almost anything, especially political ideologies. (It was democracy that killed Socrates, after all.)
Regardless of what certain Muslims have done, I think my point still stands that what people term 'religious intolerance and violence' more often than not has to do with cultural attitudes and influences than the religions themselves. I'm originally from Michigan, which has the largest proportion of Arab Americans in the country, and I've never seen or even heard about anything remotely like this going on there, and I'd argue that this is mostly likely due to differences in this particular community's culture than in their religious beliefs (which, of course, is predominately Muslim).
That's not to say religious teachings don't contribute to these attitudes in general (Lev 20:13 and the discrimination against gays immediately comes to mind), and I'm not saying that people and groups who follow Islam don't ever resort to violence, but I do question the reason why people automatically single out the religious identity of Muslims who commit violent acts but rarely seem to do them same when it comes to non-Muslims. For example, there's been a fairly large number of what I'd call 'Christian' terrorists throughout the world using their political and religious beliefs as a justification for violence in the past four decades (e.g., the IRA, the Orange Volunteers, the Lord's Resistance Army, the Army of God, Timothy McVeigh, the Centennial Olympic Park bombing, the National Liberation Front of Tripura, the 2002 Soweto bombings, Scott Roeder, Hutaree, etc.), yet nobody in the US really seems to be calling out Christianity because of it.
And despite the fact the Jesus never killed anyone, as the link provided above points out, his 'heavenly father,' if we believe the accounts in the Old Testament, is arguably responsible for a great number of deaths. It seems to me that to be consistent in their theology, Christians need to do one of two things: (1) accept the validity of the Old Testament and all the things that God supposedly did/said, which includes accepting that God ordered the deaths of every man, woman and child in Canaan (Deut 20:16-18), or (2) reject the Old Testament completely and stop including it as a part of their Bible. The way I see it, either God mellowed out a whole lot after the birth of his son, Jesus, or the God of the Old Testament is an entirely different deity from the God of the New Testament.
But I'm getting slightly off-point here. I'm not trying to write a polemic against Christianity, I'm simply suggesting that people, atheist or otherwise, shouldn't be going around claiming that Islam is a more violent and less tolerant religion than Christianity when Christianity's own history is, quite frankly, full of violence and intolerance as well (e.g., the various Crusades, which we against fellow Christians, Jews and Muslims; medieval pogroms against the Jews, etc.; and then there are things like Uganda's anti-homosexual bill that was inspired in part by an American, evangelical conference, held a month before, whose theme was "the gay agenda — that whole hidden and dark agenda").
This brings me to another point. I think that even beyond the cultural and religious roots of violence, there are other factors which should be taken into consideration as well. One question I think needs to be asked is whether one considers ethnic/political/territorial violence the same as religious violence if the people involved also have different religious views.
Much of the violence in Gaza and the West banks, for example, has to do with land/border disputes that's also fueled by ethnic, political and religious antagonisms, yet many people only focus on the religious identity of one side. The same applies to Darfur, where I'd argue the violence is predominately ethnic in nature, i.e., the majority Arab/Muslim north is fighting with the majority the non-Arab ('African')/Muslim south.
Then there's Somalia, which is in the mess it's in due to a variety of factors, from the collapse of its government following a bloody civil war to foreign ships dumping nuclear waste and heavy metals off its coast and overfishing their coastal waters. The consequence of all these events has been Somalia fishermen turning to piracy to survive, and extremist militants who also happen to be Muslim exploiting Somalia's power vacuum.
As for Afghanistan, which has taken centre stage in the 'War on Terror,' it has elements of all the above. Not only is it composed of a combination of competing ethic, religious and political groups, the country itself hasn't had a relatively stable and viable government since the assassination of President Daoud by the PDPA. Prior to that, Afghanistan was in the process of developing its modern industries and education system, as well as reaching out to the outside world (e.g., joining the League of Nations, establishing ties with the USSR, UK, US, etc.).
And to make matters worse, besides seeing its fair share of violent coups and civil wars, Afghanistan has experienced a slew of foreign invasions by predominately white, non-Muslims, from the Brits, to the Russians, and now us. It's no wonder that many average Afghans, who are often young, poor and illiterate, deludedly join the Taliban in an effort to defend their country and their faith. It should also be kept in mind that the US via the CIA supported the Mujahideen's Islamic/nationalist resistance against the Soviets, going so far as to help arm and train Mujahideen resistance fighters.
Certainly we can say that much of above mentioned violence has religious roots and/or underpinnings, but I think that simply blaming Islam is not only misleading, it's a serious mistake since doing so ignores many of the equally important and often overlooked causes for the continuing violence (e.g., ethnic tension, political instability, territorial disputes, etc.).
Maybe I'm wrong, but I think that simply blaming everything on the Islamic religion, without acknowledging any of the other underlying factors contributing to the violence we're currently seeing, is a gross oversimplification of the problem, and the push by the right to single out Muslims is little more than a new form of red-baiting a la Joseph McCarthy. All one has to do is look at the recent comments from Judson Phillips, founder of Tea Party Nation, singling out Rep. Keith Ellison's religious identity for that to be apparent:
Just replace the word 'Muslim' with 'communist,' and forget the fact that the claim by Phillips and Lynne Torgerson, Ellison's opponent, that CAIR is linked to Hamas and Hezbollah is completely unsubstantiated, and you've got the 1950s all over again.
In respect to your last paragraph, I found this webpage this morning:
http://www.markhumphrys.com/islam.killings.html
The owner of this site is an atheist, btw.
To be honest, I have mixed ideas about this. On the one hand, religion is, among other things, a creative expression of our search for happiness, meaning and truth in a seemingly infinite universe. Religion can be a beautiful thing that brings communities together, as well as bring individuals closer to a happiness that transcends much of the suffering and unsatisfactoriness seemingly inherent in this fragile thing we call life.
I've heard people express their desire to "kill religion" (e.g., Dawkins et al.), and I can understand some of their reasoning for making such statements, especially when you have people using religion to justify suicide bombing and discrimination against gays, women, etc., but I also can't help but think that doing so would come at a great cost to humanity in that we'd be losing an important part of what makes us human.
On the other hand, religion is, admittedly, being used to justify and even instigate violence and oppression, and that's a real problem. Nevertheless, I think that when we dig a little bit deeper, it becomes apparent that there's a lot more going on than meets the eye. For one thing, it's not just the religions themselves that need to be scrutinized, but also the cultures that are influenced by these religious traditions and in which these religions traditions initially took shape.
I think it's fair to say that certain people and cultures are more intolerant and prone to using religious teachings to justify violence, but I'm not sure it's fair to single out a specific religion, such as Islam, for example, because, they way I see it, it's not religion that makes people dangerous so much as it's people who make religion dangerous. And the same can be said about almost anything, especially political ideologies. (It was democracy that killed Socrates, after all.)
Regardless of what certain Muslims have done, I think my point still stands that what people term 'religious intolerance and violence' more often than not has to do with cultural attitudes and influences than the religions themselves. I'm originally from Michigan, which has the largest proportion of Arab Americans in the country, and I've never seen or even heard about anything remotely like this going on there, and I'd argue that this is mostly likely due to differences in this particular community's culture than in their religious beliefs (which, of course, is predominately Muslim).
That's not to say religious teachings don't contribute to these attitudes in general (Lev 20:13 and the discrimination against gays immediately comes to mind), and I'm not saying that people and groups who follow Islam don't ever resort to violence, but I do question the reason why people automatically single out the religious identity of Muslims who commit violent acts but rarely seem to do them same when it comes to non-Muslims. For example, there's been a fairly large number of what I'd call 'Christian' terrorists throughout the world using their political and religious beliefs as a justification for violence in the past four decades (e.g., the IRA, the Orange Volunteers, the Lord's Resistance Army, the Army of God, Timothy McVeigh, the Centennial Olympic Park bombing, the National Liberation Front of Tripura, the 2002 Soweto bombings, Scott Roeder, Hutaree, etc.), yet nobody in the US really seems to be calling out Christianity because of it.
And despite the fact the Jesus never killed anyone, as the link provided above points out, his 'heavenly father,' if we believe the accounts in the Old Testament, is arguably responsible for a great number of deaths. It seems to me that to be consistent in their theology, Christians need to do one of two things: (1) accept the validity of the Old Testament and all the things that God supposedly did/said, which includes accepting that God ordered the deaths of every man, woman and child in Canaan (Deut 20:16-18), or (2) reject the Old Testament completely and stop including it as a part of their Bible. The way I see it, either God mellowed out a whole lot after the birth of his son, Jesus, or the God of the Old Testament is an entirely different deity from the God of the New Testament.
But I'm getting slightly off-point here. I'm not trying to write a polemic against Christianity, I'm simply suggesting that people, atheist or otherwise, shouldn't be going around claiming that Islam is a more violent and less tolerant religion than Christianity when Christianity's own history is, quite frankly, full of violence and intolerance as well (e.g., the various Crusades, which we against fellow Christians, Jews and Muslims; medieval pogroms against the Jews, etc.; and then there are things like Uganda's anti-homosexual bill that was inspired in part by an American, evangelical conference, held a month before, whose theme was "the gay agenda — that whole hidden and dark agenda").
This brings me to another point. I think that even beyond the cultural and religious roots of violence, there are other factors which should be taken into consideration as well. One question I think needs to be asked is whether one considers ethnic/political/territorial violence the same as religious violence if the people involved also have different religious views.
Much of the violence in Gaza and the West banks, for example, has to do with land/border disputes that's also fueled by ethnic, political and religious antagonisms, yet many people only focus on the religious identity of one side. The same applies to Darfur, where I'd argue the violence is predominately ethnic in nature, i.e., the majority Arab/Muslim north is fighting with the majority the non-Arab ('African')/Muslim south.
Then there's Somalia, which is in the mess it's in due to a variety of factors, from the collapse of its government following a bloody civil war to foreign ships dumping nuclear waste and heavy metals off its coast and overfishing their coastal waters. The consequence of all these events has been Somalia fishermen turning to piracy to survive, and extremist militants who also happen to be Muslim exploiting Somalia's power vacuum.
As for Afghanistan, which has taken centre stage in the 'War on Terror,' it has elements of all the above. Not only is it composed of a combination of competing ethic, religious and political groups, the country itself hasn't had a relatively stable and viable government since the assassination of President Daoud by the PDPA. Prior to that, Afghanistan was in the process of developing its modern industries and education system, as well as reaching out to the outside world (e.g., joining the League of Nations, establishing ties with the USSR, UK, US, etc.).
And to make matters worse, besides seeing its fair share of violent coups and civil wars, Afghanistan has experienced a slew of foreign invasions by predominately white, non-Muslims, from the Brits, to the Russians, and now us. It's no wonder that many average Afghans, who are often young, poor and illiterate, deludedly join the Taliban in an effort to defend their country and their faith. It should also be kept in mind that the US via the CIA supported the Mujahideen's Islamic/nationalist resistance against the Soviets, going so far as to help arm and train Mujahideen resistance fighters.
Certainly we can say that much of above mentioned violence has religious roots and/or underpinnings, but I think that simply blaming Islam is not only misleading, it's a serious mistake since doing so ignores many of the equally important and often overlooked causes for the continuing violence (e.g., ethnic tension, political instability, territorial disputes, etc.).
Maybe I'm wrong, but I think that simply blaming everything on the Islamic religion, without acknowledging any of the other underlying factors contributing to the violence we're currently seeing, is a gross oversimplification of the problem, and the push by the right to single out Muslims is little more than a new form of red-baiting a la Joseph McCarthy. All one has to do is look at the recent comments from Judson Phillips, founder of Tea Party Nation, singling out Rep. Keith Ellison's religious identity for that to be apparent:
He has a ZERO rating from the American Conservative Union. He is the only Muslim member of Congress. He supports the Counsel for American Islamic Relations, HAMAS and has helped Congress send millions of tax dollars to terrorists in Gaza.
Just replace the word 'Muslim' with 'communist,' and forget the fact that the claim by Phillips and Lynne Torgerson, Ellison's opponent, that CAIR is linked to Hamas and Hezbollah is completely unsubstantiated, and you've got the 1950s all over again.
Monday, October 11, 2010
happy indigenous peoples' day
Screw all this Columbus Day bullshit, I prefer to call today Indigenous Peoples' Day. Why? Because Columbus doesn't deserve a national fucking holiday, that's why.
I don't dislike Columbus Day simply because he 'discovered' land that was already inhabited (Hispaniola), I dislike it for the fact that he helped to literally wipe that land of its original inhabitants, the peaceful Arawaks, through his unbelievable cruelty and that of those who followed him to the New World.
What happened to these poor people was nothing short of genocide, and there's simply no justification for it. Stealing land and killing and/or enslaving its native inhabitants isn't OK, and it's certainly not something to celebrate with a national holiday.
And for all those who are unfamiliar with the real history behind Columbus Day, I suggest checking out this excerpt from Howard Zinn's Columbus and Western Civilization, as well as this clip from The Canary Effect.
I don't dislike Columbus Day simply because he 'discovered' land that was already inhabited (Hispaniola), I dislike it for the fact that he helped to literally wipe that land of its original inhabitants, the peaceful Arawaks, through his unbelievable cruelty and that of those who followed him to the New World.
What happened to these poor people was nothing short of genocide, and there's simply no justification for it. Stealing land and killing and/or enslaving its native inhabitants isn't OK, and it's certainly not something to celebrate with a national holiday.
And for all those who are unfamiliar with the real history behind Columbus Day, I suggest checking out this excerpt from Howard Zinn's Columbus and Western Civilization, as well as this clip from The Canary Effect.
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