Tag: social comment

Osama, Obama and the Politically Correct

I think it’s finally happened.  We may have finally chased the White Rabbit of Ridiculous down the dark hole and are about to end up a shell-shocked Alice in some Bizarro-Wonderland.  I expect to see the Cheshire Cat any day now, and once he shows up, the Mad Hatter and the Red Queen won’t be far behind.  My infernal optimism for the future of our society has been shaken to the core.  Recent events are turning my girlish laughter into tears.

As everybody from Biloxi to Bangkok knows, Barack Obama turned loose his weapons of mild destruction the other day, and the result was a double-tap to the head of the President of the Evil Club — Osama Bin Laden.  I, for one, broke out the champagne and watched the cheering in the streets on TV.  However, it appears our celebrations were premature.  Nobody in the US military ran the operation, codename Geronimo, past the all-powerful Politically Correct police.  Apparently, using “Geronimo” as the codename for the operation is a direct insult to all Native Americans.   (I’m not making this up!)  Apache Tribal Chairperson Jeff Houser, of Fort Sill, Oklahoma, has sent a letter to the White House (displayed on their Tribal Website) to ask the President to apologize for juxtaposing Geronimo’s name with Osama Bin Laden’s.  According to the letter, Native American children “are facing the reality of having one of their most revered figures being connected to a terrorist and murderer…”   Houser continues: “Think about how they feel at this point.”  This is an interesting rhetorical question to a black president who grew up around a few stereotypes, himself.  The letter goes on to say that Native Americans in general — and Apaches in particular — find the codename “painful and offensive.”  Regardless of intent, the military use of Geronimo is yet another manifestation of the history of oppression Native Americans have suffered ever since Chris Columbus brought his tour group to the Americas, over 500 years ago.

I’m not one to downplay the raw deal Native Americans got during the great European migrations of the 18th and 19th centuries.  Nor am I one to try and talk history in an age as repressive as our own.  However, stretching the umbilical cord of injustice from the Chiricahua Mountains in Arizona to a mansion in the suburbs of Islamabad, Pakistan is beyond reasonable.  We are about to go through the looking glass at warpspeed, so I think we should pause briefly and examine our trajectory.

At the risk of splitting hairs, it might be useful to note that Geronimo’s name wasn’t even Geronimo; it was Goyathlay or Goyahkla. (It’s impossible to render spoken Apache* into written English)  According to the story I was told many times, and partially confirmed historically, the name Geronimo was an Apache joke nickname given to Goyathlay after a Mexican he was busy killing, repeatedly invoked the name of Saint Jerome (in Spanish Jeronimo.)  Apache warriors thought it was hilarious that, in the middle of a life-and-death situation, someone would call on an imaginary spirit for mercy.  Later, Americans heard Goyathlay called this, didn’t know any better and figured that was the guy’s name.  It stuck — on both sides of the cultural divide.

Secondly, Geronimo himself was probably the greatest hit-and-run military tactician North America has ever produced (along with Cochise and Jeb Stuart.)  For thirty years, off and on, he challenged the might of both the United States and Mexico, simultaneously.  Although always vastly outnumbered, he outmanoeuvred and outfought every military force sent against him, and he was never actually beaten in battle.  His daring raids tied up entire armies in fruitless chases that covered the entire southwest, from Texas to Arizona and the northern Mexican states of Sonora and Chihuahua, as well.  While I can’t speak for the guy personally I think Navy Seals dropping out of the sky in the middle of Pakistan, tapping the hammer on the Archduke of Evil, grabbing the body and getting out of there without a scratch, is just the kind of operation he would have loved.  By all reports, he was a feisty old fella up until the day he died and probably would have gone in with the Navy Seals, given half a chance.

Lastly, I don’t know anything about covert military operations, but I do read a lot.  Codenames are not chosen because they bear any relation to the objective — nor, by the way, are they chosen at random.  They are chosen because they are particularly distinct, usually have more than one syllable and avoid too many p’s, b’s and v’s.  All this is so they can’t be screwed up by excited young people in the heat of the moment.  “Geronimo” fulfills these criteria, and that’s it.  A few of the Navy boys may have made the big fist and yelled, “Hell, yeah!  Geronimo!” but considering they were about to be shot at I don’t think anybody should be too offended by that.  Frankly, I don’t think anybody should be offended, at all.

I’ve said all this to say we need to step back from the linguistic House of Horrors we are creating for ourselves.  The time and energy we spend being outraged verges on the ridiculous.  Any number of groups have gotten the shaft over the years, but witch hunting our language is not going to change that.  Certain words are always going to be offensive, I agree — especially when spoken in anger or hate.  But not all words carry that connotation in every circumstance.  We need to quit chasing hurt feelings and use that same energy to deal with real bigotry in our society.

Oops!  Forget it!   I just heard the military has changed the name to Operation Neptune Spear.  I’m off to find Tweedledum and Tweedledee.

*I’ve used “Apache” instead of “Chiricahua” because it is more familiar to everyone.

Where Do Lawyers Come From?

Ever since our hairiest ancestors came down out of the trees and grouped themselves together against the dangers of an unforgiving world, we have made laws to govern ourselves.  In the beginning, they were simple tribal dictates that set out reasonable behaviour within the group.  Things like no stealing another guy’s vegetables, no peeing upstream from the village, everybody gets a slice of the mastodon, and no loud music after 11:00.  In those days, there was only one punishment for breaking the rules.  You were banished from the protection of the tribe and your life expectancy went from short and brutal to zero.  Early humans understood that society was fragile, and if some wise ass wanted to be a jerk, he endangered the entire group.  It was simple, rough and ready, but it worked.  Humans, as a species, not only survived but thrived as a communal beast.

As our society progressed and got more complicated, so did our laws.  We still had to protect ourselves against the unreasonable acts of certain individuals, but we measured the punishment in accordance with the severity of the crime.  We remember this period today in the often quoted homily “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.”  These were still simple laws, but they worked well because everybody in the group understood the rules, and they were enforced by the entire community.  For example, if Benjamin got caught eating Abraham’s carrots, he was expected to replace them – with a little extra for Abraham’s trouble – and all was forgiven.  Once again, these rules allowed us to progress as a society because we didn’t have to spend all our time guarding our property against theft and vandalism, and we could sleep soundly at night, knowing that there was still no loud music allowed after 11:00.

As our society progressed even further, more and more people came under the protection of the law.  Our rural villages developed into urban towns and started to interact with other large groups who had also adapted laws to protect their societies.  This caused a serious problem, though, because our social groups were getting so large that not everybody knew all the rules nor understood them.  Plus, although the rules between different groups were very similar, sometimes individual laws were surprisingly different.  For instance, if the people in Town A understood that donkeys must be tethered when those same people went to Town B, where donkeys were allowed to roam free, their first thought would have been, “Wow! Free donkeys!” and they would have helped themselves.  You can see how there’d be some misunderstandings; wars have been fought over lesser things.

Luckily, it was about that time that a guy named Hammurabi came along.  Hammurabi was a Babylonian king who took all the rules he could think of and wrote them down.  Actually, he had them chiselled into stone, but the result was the same.  It was called the Hammurabi Code; a big, heavy copy of it is sitting in the Louvre in Paris, if you want to take a look.  Hammurabi also set down all the punishments that fit the crimes so everybody in his kingdom knew exactly where they stood – vis a vis the law.  At first glance, this looks like: “Great!  Problem solved, and all is well with the world.  Society can now progress even further, and we’re well on our way to putting a man on the moon in less than four millennia!”

Unfortunately, this is where history spins us around and gives us a pointed kick in the groin.  Hammurabi either didn’t think or didn’t care that most Babylonians at the time were illiterate.  They had no idea what the hell all the squiggles on the stone were.  Ordinary people had to ask someone who could read to interpret the law for them.  These bloodsuckers charges outrageous prices and grew fat off the misfortunes of others.  They were called “law readers” or “lawyers” – say it slowly – and they’ve been skulking around our society ever since.

I will say no more about this because I’m scared of getting sued, but here are some laws, from around the world, that you may not have heard about but that are still enforced today.

In Massachusetts, it’s against the law to put tomatoes in chowder.
In Great Britain, it’s against the law to own and operate a television set without a license.
In Alaska, it’s illegal to wake up sleeping bears in order to take their picture.
Under the Code of Federal Regulations, Title 14, Section 1211, enacted July 16, 1969, (note the date) it is against the law for US citizens to have any contact with extraterrestrial aliens – or their vehicles.
In India, it’s illegal to fly over the Taj Mahal.
It’s against the law for the citizens of Monaco to gamble in their own casinos.
It’s illegal to chew gum in Singapore.
There is a national law in Switzerland that requires every Swiss citizen to either own – or have access to – a bomb shelter.
The song “Happy Birthday to You” is still under copyright.  Therefore, it is technically illegal to sing the song publically – without paying for the privilege.
In Iceland, it’s against the law to own a pet.
In Alaska, Hawaii and Maine, billboards are illegal.
And finally, my personal favourite: in Great Britain, attempted suicide is a capital crime whose maximum penalty is death.

You’re NOT entitled to your opinion!

One of the most enduring myths of our time is “Everybody is entitled to their own opinion.”  People tend to believe this because it’s been repeated so many times and it kinda sounds good.  It’s sort of like saying we’re all in this together or some other such egalitarian nonsense.  Unfortunately, regardless of how many times you say it, it’s still a myth.  In fact, it’s an out-and-out lie.  In reality, “Everybody is entitled to their own opinion” is just the Happy Face version of the end of the argument when everybody wants to change the subject but nobody knows how.  Essentially, it’s cocktail party code for “You’re a jerk, but I’m tired.”  The problem is that tons of people think it’s actually true.  They believe that everybody’s two-bit opinion (mostly their own) can share the stage with everybody else’s.  They’re the folks we know who are constantly traveling on the Stupid Train and then telling the rest of us all about the journey.  This kind of thinking has caused no end of problems in our society.  So, for everybody’s benefit, let’s just take a moment to shoot this myth in the head and bury it in the backyard.

The whole thing started when somebody who wasn’t all that bright, got confused.  He made the mistake of thinking equal rights actually meant “equal.”  This is another myth for another time, but here’s the Twitter version.  Alex Ovechkin is a better hockey player than I am; therefore, we are not equals.  Nobel Prize winner Seamus Heaney is a better writer than I am; therefore, we are not equals.  (This goes on and on but you get the idea.)  We have equal rights, equal opportunity, equal everything else — but we are not actually equal.  Opinions work the same way.  Seamus Heaney might have an opinion about the “left wing lock” in hockey, but quite frankly, I’d go with Ovechkin on that one.  Heaney is a pretty smart guy but his opinion about hockey is useless.  In any hypothetical conversation with me or Alex Ovechkin, he’s not entitled to an opinion because he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.  It’s that simple.

All kinds of people think they are entitled to an opinion when they don’t know anything about a situation.  For example, if your toilet is plugged, you don’t call your lawyer and ask her for advice.  She’ll probably tell you to sue American Standard (which isn’t going to do you very much good in the short term.)  In this situation, you want the opinion of a plumber.  Your lawyer, no matter how exceptional she might be at wills, contracts or business law, is not entitled to render an opinion about your plumbing.  In fact, if she did she’d have to sue herself for negligence — on your behalf — and just think how much money that’s going to cost you.  I’m constantly amazed at the number of people out there who offer their opinions on subjects they know nothing about and then proudly defend themselves because they think they’re entitled to them.  And that’s not all.

There’s a misunderstanding these days that if you work or play in an industry, you have some kind of all-purpose, intuitive expertise.  For instance, I don’t know how many times I’ve heard doctors yakking on about our medical system (both for and against.)  Are you kidding me?  That’s like the guy who makes your latte at Starbucks telling you how to run a coffee plantation.  “Hey! Dr. Do Little!  Just exactly when in med school did they teach you construction cost analysis and labour relations?”  If I want my appendix out, I’m going to see a doctor.  If I want to build a hospital, I’m going to go to a construction company.  The plain fact is that — unless you can back your opinion up with cold, hard evidence — you’re not entitled to it.  I don’t care if you’re a doctor, a lawyer or a Knight of the Round Table.

Here’s what I mean.  It is my opinion that penguins are green.  Everybody knows that the only people who can actually say this are allegorical artists and people who have just eaten most of their crayons.  I offer no evidence to support my claim.  I’m not a zoologist.  I don’t live in Antarctica.  I’ve only seen black and white penguins a couple of times.  But it’s my opinion that penguins are green.  Why — under any circumstances known to me, man or penguin — am I entitled to this opinion?  Just because?  What rational, reasonable (Hell — unreasonable) argument can anybody put forth to support this as a valid opinion, deserving consideration?

Nobody distinguishes between opinion and informed opinion anymore.  The greatest minds of our time are being lumped in with rock stars and actresses.  I’m not saying celebrities are stupid, but honestly, the ability to cry on cue isn’t the kind of talent we should be looking for to drive our decision-making.  There are a whole pile of people wandering around labouring under the misconception that if Ted down the street comes up with some homemade theory of economic development, it’s just as good as the experts’ at the University of Chicago.  It’s not.  We need to get nasty and tell these folks they’re sucking pond water.  And while we’re at it, we might want to tell some of the Teds of this world to “Sit down and shut up!”

Of course, all this is just my opinion.