Milk, the review. Sort of. Well, not really.

The other night, the Better Half and I spent a little bit of time with our good friends, a couple I affectionately call the Angry Lesbians. Over the course of our conversation, I asked about Ariel Levy's article in the most recent New Yorker about the Van Dykes, and the radical lesbian movement. (Turns out that one of them had actually been to the Michigan Womyn's [sic] Music Festival, her description of which was hilarious.) Though neither of them had ever heard of the Van Dykes, they were certainly aware of that kind of political movement. Our conversation about the gay rights movement led to their telling us, once again, to go see Milk, which we finally did last night.

This isn't a review, per se, since I don't have much to say by way of critique. Sean Penn's performance was fantastic, and movie does a generally good job of depicting Harvey Milk's political engagement and career. It reminded me of why us gays are none too fond of Anita Bryant. There were a few cloying tics; I rolled my eyes at the operatic allusions at the end. But, by and large, it was a compelling, well-made biopic.

For me, however, the most powerful moments came at the very beginning. The film opens with stock footage of gay men being filmed in what appears to be some kind of documentary. Some are in gay bars, some are being herded into police cars after some such bar or another was raided. And almost all of them are hiding their faces from the camera. It was horrifying.

I am so profoundly grateful to live in a world (mostly) free of stigma. Where I can live and work openly and without apology for who I am. My mother recently called to tell me about a lesbian couple in my hometown who have a kid, and have experienced hardly any discrimination at all. (This is a pretty big change from just a few years ago, when a prominent gay couple in town were harassed to the point that they sold their house and left. One of them has since moved back, with a new partner.) Nobody has had the temerity to give me a lick of trouble about being gay for years, and at this point I almost pity them if they were to try. Maine's anti-discrimination law was upheld at the polls a few years ago, and there are efforts underway to legalize gay marriage. While there are still plenty of virulently anti-gay elements in America, and there's a lot of work yet to be done, I no longer have to fear a time when a camera in a bar would make me hide my face.

I am, thus, grateful to Harvey Milk (and yes, even to thoroughly obnoxious people like the Van Dykes and their ilk) in a way that is hard to describe. Because of who they were, I can be who I am. It is incredibly humbling and more than a little stupefying to think that, within my own lifetime a person like me could go from abject fear to blase acceptance, and I am so very thankful for the people who worked so hard to make the world the way it is now.

In which I veer, uncharacteristically, into theology

I found this article by David Plotz in today's Slate fascinating. Over the course of a couple of years, he read the Bible in its entirety, and has written a book about the experience. He recommends that everyone else do so, as well, for various reasons.

Maybe it doesn't make sense for most of us to read the whole Bible. After all, there are so many difficult, repellent, confusing, and boring passages. Why not skip them and cherry-pick the best bits? After spending a year with the good book, I've become a full-on Bible thumper. Everyone should read it—all of it! In fact, the less you believe, the more you should read.

His upbringing and mine are obviously quite different. I was raised in a very conservative, evangelical church, where a premium was placed on knowing as much scripture as possible (ideally by heart). While I can't claim to have read the whole Bible, I have read a lot of it, and can still quote large passages from memory. While I am now an unapologetically liberal Episcopalian (one of numerous aspects of my life that would no doubt cause grave distress to those who knew me back in the day), my knowledge of the Bible comes thanks to my time in the fundamentalist camp (literally and figuratively). It was thus illuminating to read the following paragraph:

While reading the Bible, I often felt as if I had finally lifted a veil from my eyes. I learned that I hadn't known the true nature of God's conflict with Job, which is the ur-text of all subsequent discussions of obedience and faith. I realized I was ignorant of the story of Ruth. I was unaware of the radical theology of Ecclesiastes, the source of so many of our ideas about the good life. I didn't know who Jezebel was, or why we loathe her, or why she is the painted lady, or even that she was married to Ahab.

I grew up knowing most of the above, though my appreciation for Job and Ecclesiastes is a more recent reflection of my adult sensibilities. Regardless, considering how many of our literary and cultural allusions come from the Bible, from the perspective of cultural literacy alone, I concur that the Bible should be read. However, the following passage is what prompted this post:

You notice that I haven't said anything about belief. I began the Bible as a hopeful, but indifferent, agnostic. I wished for a God, but I didn't really care. I leave the Bible as a hopeless and angry agnostic. I'm brokenhearted about God.

After reading about the genocides, the plagues, the murders, the mass enslavements, the ruthless vengeance for minor sins (or none at all), and all that smiting—every bit of it directly performed, authorized, or approved by God—I can only conclude that the God of the Hebrew Bible, if He existed, was awful, cruel, and capricious. He gives us moments of beauty—such sublime beauty and grace!—but taken as a whole, He is no God I want to obey and no God I can love.

When I complain to religious friends about how much He dismays me, I usually get one of two responses. Christians say: Well, yes, but this is all setup for the New Testament. Reading only the Old Testament is like leaving halfway through the movie. I'm missing all the redemption. If I want to find the grace and forgiveness and wonder, I have to read and believe in the story of Jesus Christ, which explains and redeems all. But that doesn't work for me. I'm a Jew. I don't, and can't, believe that Christ died for my sins. And even if he did, I still don't think that would wash away God's crimes in the Old Testament.

It is risky, of course, to write publicly about something so very personal as one's faith. (Even if one has very few readers.) But here I go, anyway.

Obviously, Plotz (a self-described "lax Jew") and I are going to respond differently to the story of Jesus Christ. While I am still forming my own understanding of substitutionary atonement (see above re: evangelical upbringing), I accept and believe in the redemptive nature of Christ's life and ministry. (For the record, I am also essentially a universalist, and reject the doctrine of eternal condemnation for non-Christians.) Regardless, my beliefs about Christ stand in conflict with, rather than as explanation of or justification for, the actions of God as described in the Old Testament (or, as I prefer, the Hebrew scriptures) and lamented by Plotz. I have similar difficulty with some passages from the Christian scriptures, as well, particularly some of Paul's writing.

So, what then do I do? Reason will not abdicate its place in my worldview to a belief in a benevolent Judeo-Christian God just because I direct it to. And yet, believe I do. (For a fuller accounting of why I believe in God in the first place, you will have to buy me a cup of coffee and resign yourself to a lengthier conversation than even the most loyal blog-readers would be expected to tolerate.) How do I reconcile the various crimes ascribed to God? How do I explain Paul's horribly dated views on the role of women?

I don't. They cannot be reconciled. In my heart, I say to God "this cannot be justified, even by Your directive." And, perhaps foolishly, I await an explanation. In the meantime, I simply view the passages in question as a thorn in the side of my faith, and as an indication that I do not yet fully understand all that I one day hope to.

Let us hope these fools are prosecuted

Let there be no mistaking the gravity of the Bush administration's contempt for the Constitution of the United States. From the Post:

The number of major legal errors committed by Bush administration lawyers during the formulation of its early counterterrorism policies was far greater than previously known, according to internal Bush administration documents released for the first time by the Justice Department yesterday.

[snip]

In one of the newly disclosed opinions, Justice Department appointee John Yoo argued that constitutional provisions ensuring free speech and barring warrantless searches could be disregarded by the president in wartime, allowing troops to storm a building if they suspected terrorists might be inside. In another, the department asserted that detainees could be transferred to countries known to commit human rights abuses so long as U.S. officials did not intentionally seek their torture.

There were no constitutional rights that Bush and Co. were not willing to disregard, and no powers that they were not willing to claim for their own. They have already shown their utter contempt for the balance of power, asserting executive privilege in an effort to shield themselves from all legislative scrutiny. Further, they are perfectly willing to destroy evidence of their crimes. From CNN (among countless sources):

The CIA destroyed 92 videotapes of terror-suspect interrogations, according to a court document filed by the government on Monday. The disclosure marks the first time the specific number of tapes has been made public.

The tapes were made in 2002 and showed the interrogations of two suspected al Qaeda leaders, Abu Zubaydah and Abd al-Rahim al-Nashiri. According to former CIA officer John Kiriakou, some of the videos showed harsh interrogations, including the use of waterboarding, which is said to simulate drowning and is considered by most people to be a form of torture.

Let there be no doubt -- Bush and his cronies were willing to dismantle the very foundation of American liberty. They were willing to arrogate imperial prerogatives in the service of an unfettered executive. They deserve history's scorn, and whatever justice the new government can mete out.

In which I clap my hands with glee

Well, that didn't take long. From Politico (via The Plank):

Republican National Committee Chairman Michael Steele says he has reached out to Rush Limbaugh to tell him he meant no offense when he referred to the popular conservative radio host as an “entertainer” whose show can be “incendiary.” “My intent was not to go after Rush – I have enormous respect for Rush Limbaugh,” Steele said in a telephone interview. “I was maybe a little bit inarticulate. … There was no attempt on my part to diminish his voice or his leadership.”

For those of you keeping score at home, I believe that it is now Limbaugh: 2, elected Republican leaders: 0. And, for the Democratic Party, a big, shiny present with a bow on top of it.

Update: Whoops. My scoring is off. Apparently it should be Limbaugh: 3, Republican leaders: 0. I regret the error.

Shakespeare for Dan's day, redux

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly;
Most friends is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho, the holly! This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot: Thou thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As Dan's having to stand around all day waiting for patients to blow off their appointments.

When Michael Steele is talking sense

I think I've made my feelings about Michael Steele clear, no? So imagine my surprise when I found myself agreeing with him. From Politico:

On the same night he was offering the keynote address to the Conservative Political Action Conference, Rush Limbaugh drew criticism from an unlikely source: Republican National Committee Chairman Michael Steele.

In a little-noticed interview Saturday night, Steele dismissed Limbaugh as an “entertainer” whose show is “incendiary” and “ugly.”

[snip]

In an interview on CNN with D.L. Hughley, Steele assured that he, not Limbaugh, was in charge of the party before saying that he wanted to put the right-wing talker “into context.”

“Rush Limbaugh is an entertainer,” Steele said. “Rush Limbaugh, his whole thing is entertainment. Yes it’s incendiary, yes it’s ugly.”

First of all, I can imagine that Steele doesn't like the idea that he's second fiddle in his party to a man that sang "Barack the Magic Negro" on his radio show. It makes it harder, doubtless, to bring that hip-hop sensibility to the GOP.

Secondly, it's probably not great for the party that Rush's stated desire for Obama to fail has caught on. (My mind still reels at the unbelievable hypocrisy involved in hoping for this, while serially impugning the patriotism of anyone that had the temerity to question Bush in the run-up to the Iraq War. But that's our GOP, ladies and gentlemen.) As much daylight as the Republican party (or sensible members thereof) can put between itself and those calling for the wholesale failure of the newly-elected President, the better for them in the long term.

On a similar note, Steele is clearly aware that the Democrats are all too happy to link Limbaugh's purulent rhetoric and the heart of the Republican party.

Appearing on CBS's Face The Nation, Emanuel brought up Limbaugh without being prompted. Applauding the conservative radio personality for being upfront in his desire to see the president fail, Emanuel went to great lengths to make the case that Limbaugh, more than any other contemporary figure, is the leader of the GOP.

SCHIEFFER: We talked about Newt Gingrich a lot this morning and now you bring up Rush Limbaugh. Who do you think now speaks for the Republican Party?

EMANUEL: You just named him: it is Rush Limbaugh. He has laid out his vision, in my view. And he said it clearly. I compliment him for that. He's been very up front and I compliment him for that. He's not hiding. He's asked for President Obama and called for President Obama to fail. That's his view. And that's what he has enunciated. And whenever a Republican criticizes him, they have to run back and apologize to him and say they were misunderstood. He is the voice and the intellectual force and energy behind the Republican Party. He has been up front about what he views and hasn't stepped back from that, which is he hopes for failure. He said it and I compliment him for his honesty. But that's their philosophy that is enunciated by Rush Limbaugh and I think that's the wrong philosophy for America...

Steele can argue all he wants, but Limbaugh's power in the party is pretty impressive. Just ask Georgia's Rep. Phil Gingrey, who made the mistake of criticizing him. (It didn't pan out well.) So, while it's probably not fun to be a Republican right now, it sure is fun to watch the circular firing squad.

Dollhouse: the review

I want to like the new Joss Whedon series, "Dollhouse." I am still sincerely disgusted by the untimely demise of the fantastic "Firefly," Whedon's most recent foray into series television after "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel." Not only was it conceptually brilliant, but it also had fantastic writing and an excellent, talented cast. That it lasted less than a year on Fox shows what a lousy job that network does at nurturing quality programming. His writers' strike amuse-bouche, "Dr. Horrible's Sing-along Blog" was similarly entertaining and well-crafted (though I didn't care for the ending). So I had high hopes for his new offering.

In brief, "Buffy" alum Eliza Dushku (who also executive produces) plays Echo, a young woman employed (possessed? leased?) by a shadowy corporation, run by the crisply efficient Adelle DeWitt (Olivia Williams). She spends her off time wandering around a luxe, sunny condo with her fellow "Actives," awaiting assignment. When the services of the Dollhouse are retained, Echo's brain is imprinted with a composite of memories and skills that suit her to the needs of the particular client. After three episodes, she's been a hostage negotiator, an outdoorsy survivalist chick, and a back-up singer-cum-bodyguard. Following succesful completion of the assignment, Echo's wind is wiped clean and she returns to yoga and massages in a state of placid stupefaction.

Unfortunately, after seeing as many episodes as the critics were allowed to see, I am just not all that into the show. There are no "good guys" to root for, first of all. Echo is a cipher, so while you don't want to see anything bad happen to her, neither is it her interests that are being served by her success. Her handler/protector and the FBI agent trying to crack Dollhouse's (presumably illegal) business are both good, after a fashion, but they are both peripheral.

Similarly, there is little vicarious pleasure in watching the characters interact. In both "Buffy" and "Firefly," the central characters had affection for each other, and created a sense that it would be fun (if dangerous) to be a part of their group. There are hints that Echo and another Active may have begun to emerge from their inter-assignment stupor and formed a bond, but so far that's all we've got. Otherwise, the only thing binding the characters together is a menancing threat posed by a homocidal rogue Active, a plot point I think is too dark to have been introduced so early. Who wants to identify with a bunch of mindless puppets that might, for all we know, get knifed by a psychopath?

And that's my last and most damning beef with the show. It's too dark, and not nearly enough fun. More specifically, it's not funny. All of the other Whedon series have been an artful, if sometimes cheesy, mix of the sinister and the glib. His characters banter and kid, even when beset by demons or cannibalistic deep-space brigands. Hardly anybody on "Dollhouse" has a sense of humor, and so the show misses a signature Whedon element.

I'm curious enough at this point to stick around for a while. But it's hardly the kind of response I imagine Whedon is hoping for from one of his legion of ardent fans.