Showing posts with label Barack Obama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barack Obama. Show all posts

Friday, February 21, 2014

Pacifist Martyrs & Musical Poets: Sister Megan's Certainty, Patti Smith's Doubt


I've often wondered why so few artists use their talents to fight social injustice.  Recently I read something that sheds a ray of light on the issue.  Early in her moving memoir Just Kids (NY:  HarperCollins, 2010), the poet-musician & occasional activist Patti Smith is writing about a time in 1968, when she was 21 years old.  Dirt poor but glad to be living in Brooklyn with her soulmate, fellow ex-Catholic artist Robert Mapplethorpe, Smith expresses doubts about her vocation.

"In my low periods, I wondered what was the point of creating art.  For whom?  Are we animating God?  Are we talking to ourselves?  And what was the ultimate goal?  To have one's work caged in art's great zoos - the Modern, the Met, the Louvre?  I craved honesty, yet found dishonesty in myself.  Why commit to art?  For self-realization, or for itself?  It seemed indulgent to add to the glut unless one offered illumination. [ . . . ]  I could not identify with political movements.  In trying to join them I felt overwhelmed by yet another form of bureaucracy.  I wondered if anything I did mattered," she modestly admits.

Patti Smith, of course, carried on drawing & writing despite those doubts.  Eventually she composed songs & made illuminating records that helped other aspiring artists - especially misfit musicians - express themselves.  R.E.M.'s Michael Stipe, for example, named Smith's 1975 debut album Horses a key influence on his gestation as a songwriter.  She came to be known as the Godmother of Punk.

During the restless struggles of her youth, Smith learned that there's a price to pay for being an imaginative person who challenges social norms.  Yet she could take comfort in knowing that lasting art raises important existential questions - even if making such art fails to answer the artist's economic needs.  Creative public protestors often face income deficiency, not to mention legal problems.  

Perhaps that's why so few citizens, artists or otherwise, have the guts to risk their freedom by openly addressing controversial issues.  Like intentionally funny politicians, courageous rebels with a cause are rare, but they do exist.  One of them appeared in a Knoxville, Tennessee, courtroom last Tuesday (February 18th):  an 84-year-old pacifist named Sister Megan Rice was sentenced to three years in federal prison for engaging in an act of civil disobedience.  

What was this elderly nun's specific crime?  Aided by a pair of fellow anti-war activists, Rice cut through three fences at the Y-12 National Security Complex in Oak Ridge (TN) in July 2012.  She & her accomplices (one of them a Vietnam vet) then defaced a bunker holding bomb-grade uranium by hanging protest banners, putting up crime-scene tape & hammering off a symbolic chunk of the $548-million fortress.  A devoted advocate for peace, Sister Megan expressed no remorse for her actions at the Highly Enriched Uranium Materials Facility.  

In fact, during her final statement to US District Judge Amul Thapar, Rice rather cryptically requested a life sentence.  (The federal sentencing guidelines suggested six years in her case.)  "Please have no leniency with me," the bespectacled, white-haired felon said.  "To remain in prison for the rest of my life would be the greatest gift you could give me."  

Rice took her religious vows at age 18, so she'd spent her entire adult life as a member of the Society of the Holy Child Jesus.  The mature Rice explained her 2012 protest in surprisingly practical terms.  The US government was spending too much on the military & its weaponry, she told the court.  She also cited concern for the well-being of young people, from the Americas to Afghanistan:  "This is the next generation and it is for these people that we are willing to give our lives."  Her co-conspirators, Greg Boertje-Obed & Michael Walli, credited their religious faith for the "miraculous" break-in at the deadly weapons depot.  

"I was acting upon my God-given obligations as a follower of Jesus Christ," Walli told the judge, adding that he'd gladly do it again.  All three activists agreed that God was using them to raise awareness about the USA's stockpile of nuclear weapons.  Since the Cold War fizzled out circa 1992, people don't fret much about the prospect of nuclear war.  The vast, globally dispersed arsenal of hydrogen bombs have almost come to seem like a harmless abstraction.  The looming catastrophe that troubles most thinking people nowadays is human-generated climate change, which is precipitating ever more obvious eco-disasters.  

Skeptical about whether the protestors had caused any real harm, Judge Thapar nevertheless washed his hands of the affair, asserting that he had to deter other activists by sentencing Rice to three years & her co-defendants to over five years in prison.  The other antagonist in that Knoxville theater of the absurd, Assistant US Attorney Jeff Theodore, justified his zealous prosecution on flimsy grounds.  He told the court (presumably with a straight face) that, by committing a clever act of nonviolent resistance to the masters of war, the defendants had destroyed the "mystique" (i.e. false claims of security?) ascribed to this "Fort Knox of uranium."   

Despite their harsh treatment by the US Department of (irony alert:) Justice, the Knoxville Three should count their blessings.  After all, President Obama's remote-trigger-happy anti-terrorist enforcers refrained from sending an armed drone aircraft to pre-emptively kill them.  These naive believers had the gall to exercise their free-speech rights by staging a provocative demonstration on US government property.  Their de facto crime, it seems to me, was the un-American activity of mocking militarism by exposing the lie of so-called national security.  I guess Fort Knox ain't what it used to be, eh, Uncle Sam?  

This whole saga of the pacifist sister and her lay brothers strikes me as an allegory of cruel persecution worthy of Orwell or Kafka.  True martyrs probably don't expect justice, certainly not in a tragically flawed society like ours.  And compassion fatigue may be a natural response to the daily media parade of senseless violence that plagues contemporary civilization.  But that brave gentle trio - Rice, Walli & Boertje-Obed - deserved better treatment from our (nominally) democratic federal government, one based on Enlightenment ideas of individual freedom & responsibility.  

When thinking about the Knoxville Three, I'm reminded of the beatitudes:  Blessed are the peacemakers.  Mere incarceration cannot break their spirits.  Even so, this case cries out for a presidential pardon.  Cynics might remonstrate that it's not much of a sacrifice for a senior citizen, one who's already reached her life expectancy, to spend her remaining days on Earth as a political prisoner.  Anyway, I suspect that Sister Megan, who surely proved her bona fides as a wise moral force, had good reason for requesting a life term.  

Lesson learned?  Rice reportedly taught science for 40 years as a Catholic missionary serving the poor in western Africa.  Now she's been given the chance to educate her fellow Americans, including the miserable masses who (like her) live behind razor-wire-crowned walls, if only by serving as an example of human dignity.  Long live the Knoxville Nun!  Patti Smith should write a song about her.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

This Face for Lease: Putin's Olympics & Some New Political Ad Platforms

I've been limiting my exposure to NBC's saturation coverage of the 2014 Winter Olympics.  It's not that I don't appreciate sports played on snow & ice.  As a matter of fact, I'm captivated by the traditional Nordic facsimile of flight called ski jumping.  I applaud the International Olympic Committee (IOC), somewhat sarcastically, for finally letting women compete in that daredevil event.  

Rather, my reluctance to watch the Sochi games - as with the 2008 Beijing Olympiad - stems from the inconvenient truth that they serve as a vast advertising platform for a loathsome tyrannical regime.  Sadly, every flash of the IOC's interlocking-rings logo now reminds me of the ambitious bully who brought the winter games to subtropical Sochi, Russian President Vladimir Putin.  

Conniving with his plutocratic cronies, Putin spent billions of stolen rubles for this chance to strut his ugly ego on a global stage.  Nevertheless, I have witnessed a few amusing moments amidst all the bullshit extolling the Olympian ideal.  Last weekend, for example, I caught that baldpate Putin's creepy deadpan perma-scowl polluting my TV screen.  

As NBC's cameras lingered on his soulless Mussolini-like visage, I noticed no less than four brand logos sewn onto Putin's turtleneck top & tight fleece jacket.  That's about as many product placements as the money-grubbing IOC now permits the athletes to wear.  I know that Vlad the Huckster fancies himself a supreme sportsman, but surely this ad ploy is taking things too far.  

After a shudder of revulsion at the Russian host's display of personal commercialism, I realized the brilliance of the idea.  What a triumph of economic opportunism!  It takes an ex-KGB comrade to dream up such an outrageous advertising scheme.  Putin's self-sponsorship at Sochi makes American politicians seem like a bunch of pikers when it comes to generating wealth.  

Upon further reflection, I had a brainstorm of my own:  if properly adapted, what a breakthrough in American political fundraising this could become.  Before dismissing Putin's promotional innovation as a gimmick befitting only undemocratic leaders, consider the possibilities for the USA's money-driven two-party system.  

The U.S. Senate could sell the naming rights to its legislative chamber.  The "Citibank Senate" has a nice alliterative ring to it.  Our cash-strapped House of Representatives could offer a Seattle-based coffee company a publicity coup simply by declaring the capitol a Starbucks-only, foreign-tea-free zone - for a generous fee, of course.  

For his part, our Commander-in-Chief could reduce the federal deficit by taking bids on a new moniker for the Pentagon.  Even the "Boeing Building" might seem appropriate now that the 9/11 attacks are receding from national memory.  While we're at it, how about replacing that lame official name "White House" with the cooler "Apple iPad"?  It appeals more to the digital generation, assuming that today's dumbed-down young folks get the joke - "pad" being an old hipster term for residence, you see.  

From the Great Free-market Beyond, the ghosts of Steve Jobs & Ronald Reagan gaze upon our work & beam.  Freedom never comes at no cost & neither should the Olympics.  Once upon a time Barack Obama raised millions of campaign dollars by embodying the generic Audacity of Hope.  More in step with the march of hyper-capitalism, President-for-life Putin shamelessly embodies the Effrontery of Exploitation.  By adorning his sporty outfit with various corporate logos while being photographed at an Olympic venue, Putin even out-hustled that notoriously crafty dictator of yore, Adolf Hitler.  

The Führer, after all, merely used the 1936 Berlin Olympics to promote his own political brand.  Worse yet, it was legally a nonprofit brand.  Hitler's henchmen covered the German capital in patriotic red-white-black bunting & an omnipresent swarm of swastikas, the (IOC-approved) Nazi logo.  Then a modest African-American athlete appeared & singlehandedly spoiled the Nazis' coming-out party.  Amazingly, Jesse Owens exposed Joseph Goebbels's racist Aryan-superiority propaganda as nonsense by simply running faster & jumping farther than anyone else.  

Let's hope that the homophobic dissident-oppressor Putin gets a similar comeuppance on his home turf.  I'd love to see an international alliance of ice dancers & hockey players use their muscular bodies to form a giant human protest sign in the Fisht Olympic Stadium during the closing ceremony at Sochi:  "PUSSY RIOT LIVES!"  

It's a rare photo-op for human rights.  Why not use it to display the humane, cooperative spirit that the modern Olympic games are supposed to represent?   If the IOC says a Tongan luge-slider can compete as "Bruno Banani" (the name of his German-underwear sponsor), then maybe we really shall overcome someday.  At least until the next commercial.

[For Kimman Harmon, former hockey player, downhill skier extraordinaire & far-out lesbian, of Boulder, CO (USA).]