Jim Deitz and his polka dot house. AP Photo/Grand Forks Herald/Eric Hylden, Photographer

I recently came across this news article about Jim Deitz and his neighbor’s complaints about painting his two-story rental complex with colorful polka dots. It’s not that unusual of a story. A homeowner gets creative, vengeful, or even desperate and an uproar ensues. Such homes are generally thought to be eyesores, ruining the aesthetic of an otherwise orderly neighborhood and threatening property values.

There’s a lesson in this that goes beyond hues of paint, or personal rights versus collective ones, and into the much beleaguered realm of tolerance. As an ideal “tolerance” is an easily up-ended concept. As part of a political ideology, it’s an ineffective argument. Too often, it’s a word thrown into the debate ring naked, expected to defend itself only with the nobility of its own lofty goal.

However, it takes almost no effort to expose the low endurance of cultural tolerance, no matter how well-meaning.

Tolerance: I want a world in which everyone is accepted for who they are and all belief systems are embraced in the name of diversity.

Some Extremist. Somewhere: I hate fags. I believe dark-skinned people are inferior and all Jews are going to hell. My religion says I have the right to take a rod to my children and my wife should be submissive to me. I believe a rapist shouldn’t be punished as long as he’s willing to marry the girl he raped and girls should be circumcised so that they don’t go astray. 

Tolerance: Those are terrible, hateful, ignorant beliefs! 

Extremist: Well now, you’re not very tolerant of differences after all, are you? 

It doesn’t matter whether the extremist is right-wing or left-wing, religious or secular. The example above might also be about a militant vegan, a socialist, or an anarchist. The fact is that as both a sociopolitical ideology and personal ideal, tolerance often proves to have very short reins and more than a chance of being outed as hypocritical.

Tolerance — “the ability or willingness to tolerate something, in particular the existence of opinions or behavior that one does not necessarily agree with” —  is not easily separated from personal values, ideas of what’s morally right and wrong, or even from purely aesthetic likes and dislikes. Who among us would really be willing to live next door to a polka-dotted house or one festooned with stuffed animals and graffiti? Who among us is willing to hold their offense at having neighbors whose values, habits, beliefs and tastes might drastically differ from our own?

In America, we often talk about peace between Israel and Palestine as if we — in our still segregated neighborhoods — have all the answers. Yet, everyday in America there are disputes, debates and court cases over issues that are minor in comparison to the cultural, philosophical and religious differences that divide Palestinians and Israelis.

In California and New York recently, there have been lawsuits against neighbors who smoke cigarettes or cigars in their own yards, homes or apartments. There have been outcries against homeless shelters, halfway houses and drug treatment clinics opening in certain neighborhoods all across the land. The building of a mosque in Tennessee and a synagogue in Connecticut were hotly debated. There’s a glut of NIMBY (not in my backyard) realities that fly in the face of inclusive ideals. We may feel compassion for the homeless, but we don’t want to live near a tent city. We may not want the mentally ill to suffer on the streets, but don’t necessarily want them housed in our neighborhood.

Even religious tolerance, which is an longstanding ideal many Americans agree with, only extends only so far. Would you appreciate the diversity of having a Michael Pearl adherent, one who believes that even infants should be smacked, living next door? What about a polygamist family? Members of a religious cult? The head of the Westboro Baptsist church? No one I personally know would and neither would I — which is why the argument for “tolerance” rings hollow for me both socially and politically.

Most often, when we speak of tolerance we leave off the disclaimer of  ”within my comfort level,” which is what most of us really mean if we’re being honest. However, when we try to define the collective values behind what’s tolerable and what’s not, we often find ourselves in never-ending, circular disagreements. It’s one thing when the matter at hand is the rare polka dot house, but it’s quite another when the talk is about more pressing, universal problems such as equality, liberty, justice, and individual rights.

There’s also this: As a person subject to several possibly exclusionary labels — gay, for example — the idea of being “tolerated” as if I were a public nuisance of some sort is offensive to me. I don’t oppress anyone with my sexuality. I don’t harm anyone else by being attracted to other gay women. I didn’t insist that my children be gay because I am, nor did I raise them to resent their own heterosexuality or that of others. My “lifestyle” isn’t violent, hateful, or outrageous. What’s to be tolerated? What I do in my bedroom? Occasionally holding hands with another woman in public? I can think of hundreds of things more appropriate to the word tolerance — children having public meltdowns, barking dogs, people who wear too much cologne — but love? Between happy, consenting adults? My values say that love should be accepted, even celebrated, not just tolerated.

That is, of course, my ideal and not everyone agrees. There will always be disagreement in a society of individuals with varying beliefs. Even when America was almost exclusively a Christian society, there were divisions. Predominately Islamic countries remain embroiled in war and strife. Religion is hardly the unifying force that many people — particularly politicians who use it as bait and religious figures who use it for political gain — believe it to be.

However, there are ways to become more unified — not by religious or political sameness, not by the weak gospel of tolerance — but by education and the promotion of humanist values that can be shared. We’ve seen this lately in the campaign against bullying. What was once taken as a somewhat normal, if unfortunate, part of growing up is now being seen in a new light. Collectively, we’re making bullying less socially acceptable. We’ve called for new policies and prevention programs and we’ve gotten them. The problem is not solved, but at least most of us now agree that there is a problem that needs to be addressed.

We’ve come far in gay rights with the same human-centered promotion of values. When I was growing up, it was inconceivable that any gay people be out of the closet unless they were so rich or famous that they could insulate themselves from the consequences. Yesterday, in conservative Tucson, I saw two young women walking hand in hand at a dog park and no one gave them more than a nod and a smile. If there were people who objected, they kept it to themselves.

Human-centered values don’t necessarily exclude spiritual beliefs, but also don’t seek the approval or appeasement of organized religion . Historically, religion has evolved around human progress, not the other way around. There are many things we don’t do anymore — burn witches at the stake, enslave other people, deny voting rights to women, or put children to work as soon as they can walk — that were once justified by common religious interpretation. As people, (including the religious), gained new knowledge and perspectives, the interpretations of religion changed. Society created laws to ensure that the human values that were most shared would be upheld, and kept safe from any dogmatic creed that might threaten them.

This is where the “tolerance” school of thought fails, and abysmally. Without the backbone of stated values and discussion about what might actually, realistically be tolerable (and not) within those values, it comes across as a feeble and naive call to wear blinders when it comes to even heinous offenses against humanity. I see this often in both progressive and conservative political circles. Progressives too often espouse tolerance and make excuses for human abuses — especially abroad — in the name of cultural or religious differences, while conservatives  too often pat themselves on the back for tolerating those they see as American outsiders, like immigrants, the irreligious, gays, minorities, Union workers, and the poor.

Unfortunately, the American discussion on values was tainted by the religious right when it was used as a battering ram against gays. “Family values” became an unpleasant, divisive, and ultimately laughable (Tinky Winky is gay! Feminism causes women to kill children and become lesbians!) catch phrase. Obviously, “family values” wasn’t a human-centered campaign, nor was it about values shared by the majority, religious or not — but it was a fringe movement that scared many people off and made “values” a frightening word in the area of debate.

I believe we have to move beyond our fear of discussing values because, even with disagreement, this is where we find the most fertile common ground. This is where we “tolerance” matures into actionable ideology and choices to embrace, accept, or reject certain social mores. By defining and then promoting the secular human values we might share, as opposed to promoting a religious or political agenda, we can change the tone and depth of discussion. For instance, I don’t personally know anyone on the right who is so anti-abortion that they would rather have a rape victim give birth or a mother die — and I know a lot of people. I also don’t know anyone on the left who thinks welfare should be a free-for-all without any restrictions. How many people do you know who are extremists on either side? My guess is not many. Yet these are the types of conversations that dominate politics and the media today . They take away from the truth and heart of human matters, while fanning flames of antagonism and disunity. In the media, it’s not the calm, sensible voices that have often pulled in the biggest audiences, but the most hyperbolic and divisive. Do we value that? Should we? If we don’t, how do we change it?

That’s the kind of value discussion we should have. That I think we need to have if even our most commonly shared ideals are to kept whole, alive, and growing. (I mean, come on, who doesn’t believe in the American Dream, in liberty and justice for all, in a land of opportunity?)

Right now, the country feels stagnant to me. Politics seems to be running somewhere between the rails of apathy and enmity. People are scared for their futures and fear tends to bring out the worst in humanity. When people don’t feel like they might not have much to look forward to tomorrow, they get greedier, more self-preserving, less likely to give others a break or the benefit of the doubt, or to care about problems they may not personally have a stake in (women’s reproductive rights, lack of health insurance, homelessness). I believe it’s gotten to this point for several reasons, but that a major one is that we, as a society, let go. Somewhere between the afterglow of the idealistic 60s and the infusion of extremist religion into the Reagan White House, we gave up searching for and promoting shared, human values. We became entranced by dogma and dividing lines — by how far away, rather than how close we could stand. Our perspective seemed to shift from “family of man” to “dog eat dog”.

In an atmosphere like this, it’s not “tolerance” we need, but a renaissance of critical thinking and thoughtful debate. Who do we want to be as individuals and as a nation? Where do we want to be in terms of tradition or progress? What do we want our futures to look like? What values are most important to us and to a majority of others? What values might we share and then move ahead with together? When we can speak as openly and easily about those things as we do about a polka dotted house, I believe the manufacturing of political and doctrinaire divisions will slow down, allowing us all to catch our breath, rediscover our commonalities, and move toward a more productive, hopeful, prosperous and conscientious time.

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I am tired tonight. More tired than I’ve been in a long time and it’s for all the wrong reasons.

You see, a while ago I promised myself that I’d stay out of the hypocritical and often hateful thickets of a society that seems to be growing more perverse every day. Any appreciation for the realness or the great potential of humanity seems to be dwindling at a rapid rate. Everything has become fattened with political, religious and psuedoreligious dogma, under which lies poorly hidden veins carrying the bile of greed, animosity, and prejudices.

It’s crazy making, really, at least for someone like me, who’s slightly left of moderate. I don’t understand how, for instance, the gentle figure of Jesus has been co-opted by a segment of society that’s strangely hoo-rah for mega-millionaires, the personhood of corporations, and the deconstruction of women’s rights — all under the New Testament-defying guise of vaguely defined values like “freedom” or “liberty”. What? Really? Jesus thought the poor should be made to jump through Herculean bureaucratic hoops to get some grain of help? He told the poor to quit complaining and just get (more) jobs? He used his considerable power to humiliate and condemn gays, oppress women, and tell the sick that they’re on their own? I’m not Christian, but I have read the book and, as I recall, Jesus didn’t do any of that and even his most conservative apostles seemed to issue more warnings to greedy rich men, backbiters, and heterosexuals than they did to the poor, the ill, and the disenfranchised.

Tell me again how “freedom” and “liberty” come by way of denying others theirs, because that seems to be the entire platform of the present-day GOP. Prevent women from making their own reproductive choices, make sure gay couples don’t have equal rights, cut services to the elderly, the poor and the sick . . . but make sure you lower the corporate tax rate (do read the link) . . . and eliminate the estate tax so that the children of the rich don’t suffer so much as the loss of a penny (did you can now inherit up to $5M without paying federal taxes? Yeah, that’s a problem most of us won’t have).

On the other side, over 84 million people, largely of the progressive persuasion, jumped on the Kony 2012 bandwagon and made it one of the biggest viral campaigns ever because hey, if celebrities are endorsing it, it just has to be a good cause, right?  Never mind the actual facts of the matter or what Ugandans themselves may feel — here, a video by the prime minister of Uganda detailing the fallacies promoted by Invisible Children has pulled in only 27K views — the important thing seemed to be that it was Hollywood, man. It was glossy and evocative, and so what if Kony doesn’t live in Uganda and his LRA army has shriveled to a couple hundred ragtag troops? The defenders will argue that “at least it got people talking”, but about what exactly?  Does the truth even matter anymore?

There’s all of that, but then there’s Trayvon Martin. Killed by a self-appointed vigilante, not arrested, still free. There’s the cry that this incident  ”couldn’t possibly” be racially motivated because Zimmerman is purportedly part Hispanic — as if no one who is not purely caucasian can be racist. The cops, it should be noted, also listed Zimmerman as “white” on their forms — that’s how they perceived him — and hell yes, it matters.

It matters that this wanna-be cop with a 9mm gun, who had previously made almost 50 calls to 911, pursued a 17 year old Black teenager against police instructions merely for looking “suspicious”.

It matters that Zimmerman first stalked the teenager from his car. Then the frightened boy began to run and Zimmerman went after him on foot, telling police breathlessly that “these assholes always get away.” There may have been a fight, the 240 pound vigilante against the 140 pound teenager, but in the end the teenager was dead and Zimmerman was left standing over the body, gun in hand.

The police didn’t run a background check on Zimmerman, have his wounds examined, or ask him to submit to a drug or alcohol test. They did run a toxicology test on Martin’s dead body, though, which is clearly a preemptive run toward a “blame the victim” defense. However, even if Martin had been high as a kite, he wasn’t the one chasing Zimmerman — he was the one being chased.

I join my name to the millions that are shocked and saddened by the actions of the Sanford Police Department. At no time was Zimmerman’s life or property in danger — he stalked this child, pursued him and then killed him — yet when he claimed self-defense, the police took him at his word, knowing full well who was chasing whom. If anyone had the right to self-defense, it was Trayvon Martin, who can be heard pleading for his life before being shot in cold blood. His family says it’s his voice. There’s no reason to believe otherwise. The screams end as soon as the gun goes off.

I don’t believe that anyone who is on top in a fight is going to be screaming like that. So was the child on the ground and did Zimmerman all ready have him subdued before shooting Martin? This is a question a jury should mull, yet whether or not there will ever be a jury is still in question.

And that’s part of what is making me so tired tonight. That sometimes assholes do get away, even with murder.

The other part, the larger part, is knowing that Trayvon Martin, like so many others before him (James Byrd, Matthew Shepard, Troy Davis, Tyler Clementi and Brandon Teena to name a few) — is destined to become a figurehead for a problem that’s not going away anytime soon, no matter how many people sign a petition, dress in hooded sweatshirts, or march in his name.

Hate is hate and it seems that we’re getting further and further away from communally pulling up the roots of it than ever in my lifetime. The idealistic promises of the 60s — brotherhood, equality, justice for all — seem to have become fodder for cynics and the religious right. Far too many others have buried their heads in the sands of a feel-good, modern-day guruism which preaches that the self is everything and everything is the self, and nothing in the world really matters because somehow everything that happens, no matter how senseless or tragic, was meant to be. There are no accidents, the gurus and their adherents preach. All is as it should be.

It’s the lies that break my heart, tear at my mind, and make me tired in a way that even the worst truth never could.

“The profoundest instinct in man is to war against the truth; that is, against the Real. He shuns facts from his infancy. His life is a perpetual evasion. Miracle, chimera and to-morrow keep him alive. He lives on fiction and myth. It is the Lie that makes him free. Animals alone are given the privilege of lifting the veil of Isis; men dare not. The animal, awake, has no fictional escape from the Real because he has no imagination. Man, awake, is compelled to seek a perpetual escape into Hope, Belief, Fable, Art, God, Socialism, Immortality, Alcohol, Love. From Medusa-Truth he makes an appeal to Maya-Lie.” — Jack London, The Mutiny of the Elsinore

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By now, many people have heard of Caster Semenya. The 18 year-old South African runner first made the news for her stellar run in the African Junior Championships, but had her victory tainted by competitors who insisted that the IAFF, (the International Association of Athletics Federations), should test Semenya’s gender to see if she is 100% female, not just physically, but biologically.

A recent article in Time explained:

. . . that female athletes who in the past have been suspected of being men may have suffered from Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome (AIS), a condition in which a person who is genetically male — that is, their 23rd chromosome pair is XY — is resistant to androgens, the male sex hormones that include testosterone. As a result, the testes present in that person’s abdomen never descend, and neither they nor their parents ever realize they are actually boys. Those with complete AIS will have a totally female body on the outside, but will lack ovaries and a uterus. Others may demonstrate partial AIS. . .It’s those characteristics that Semenya’s competitors see in the world champ, leading them to predict — and hope — that her forthcoming gender results will leave her ineligible to compete with women.

Rather than a mere physical exam, where genitalia is the determining factor, the IAFF is calling for a months-long process of gender testing, involving several specialists and exhaustive testing.

I find it disturbing that anyone, least of all an 18 year-old, would be subjected to forced gender testing in order to appease their competitors. It might be another matter if Semenya was a boy disguised as a girl in order to compete, but that’s not the accusation. Semenya was born and raised as a girl, and those in the position to know — her midwife, parents, grandparents, and a former roommate — attest that she does not have, and has never had, a penis.

Lacking proof of actual male genitalia, Semenya’s competitors hope that the IAFF testing will reveal some other anomaly that will effectively kick Semenya out of the women’s category. Among the specialists that will participate in Semenya’s anticipated de-womanizing is a psychologist. I wonder what the outcome might be if Semenya’s DNA comes back as XX, but her thought processes are considered more male. Would the IAFF consider this an unfair “advantage” in women’s sports?

And what happens if Semenya isn’t an XX or an XY, but an oddly tall (5’7″)and vigorous XO? Genetically, she would be a female, but one with a missing chromosome. Should anomalous genetic makeup disqualify Semenya from women’s sports? If so, then shouldn’t other genetic freaks, like NBA basketball star Ming Yao, also be disqualified since his 7’6″ frame clearly gives him an advantage over his tall but genetically normal competitors? Should he and other overly tall basketball players be checked for mutations of the NSD-1 gene, which can cause gigantism? Is it fair to other players to allow Yao to professionally compete?

If the IFAA determination is that DNA is more important than genitalia in separating men from women in sports, then why not test all effeminate males? That’s a rhetorical question, because male athletes have not been subjected to gender testing like females regularly were up until 1999, when the International Olympic Committee passed a resolution to stop the practice.

Gender testing began when it was believed that males might disguise themselves as females in order to enter, and conceivably win, a women’s event. While this would be a valid concern, it was not the accusation against Semenya. The IAFF has repeatedly stated that they do not believe Semenya was being deceptive about her gender. “It’s a medical issue. It’s not an issue of cheating,” IAFF spokesperson Nick Davies said.

So at 18 years-old, Caster Semenya — born a girl, raised as a girl — will find out whether science agrees with the midwife who delivered her, the parents that raised her, and the children who taunted her for not acting like the girl they believed she was.  This is probably not what Semenya thought her victory would bring. Instead of being greeted with cheers and hailed as a hero, Semenya has been met with questions, derision, and public humiliation. Instead of having the difference she was born with accepted, sought-after, and nurtured, like Ming Yao’s was, Semenya’s fellow athletes have sought to have her thrown out of the sport.

Clearly, I think the IFAA decision is wrong. If they do not believe Semenya “cheated” — in other words, if they know that she was born with and has female genitalia, which they appear to — than they should not embark on a genetic fishing expedition to appease those who find Semenya’s talent and ambiguous appearance unsettling.

8/24, Corrected for spelling error. This article also appears on the Huffington Post for those who would like to comment.

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I hate the trees in Minnesota. Not a little, but a lot.  They’re fucking everywhere. There’s no escape from the giant oaks, wide maples, and imposing boxelders. There are fields and fields of trees, often standing mere inches apart  . . . endless acres of crowded trunks, thick and spindly, with gnarled branches and continuously falling leaves.  Unlike the Sierra and redwood forests I once loved, these trees don’t seem at all majestic. Instead they look like bad planning — like orphans left to mindlessly procreate and suffocate each other.

They dull the sun and obscure the view, and the sheer number of them makes it hard to appreciate what otherwise might be interesting, unique, or beautiful.  In this way, trees, I think,  are like nature’s exclamation points. And Minnesota has way too many of them.

I’m not sure what it says about me that I prefer the neat rows of palm trees in Southern California, or the leafless evergreen pines of Tahoe, or the dignity of Northern redwoods that insist on having their own space even in a crowd.  Even the rolling, prickly sagebrush of the Nevada desert is more appealing to me than the haphazard and overly-exclamatory trees of Minnesota.

Many people claim to love the wilderness. They are excited about Outdoors! Nature! Ruggedness! I wonder where the bodies are buried. They see Wildlife! Bears! Eagles!!! I see round-bellied crows feeding off of carcasses. They delight in the trees. Birch! Willows! White Ash! I feel anxious about not being able to see what’s on the horizon. I have never been able to see what’s on the horizon in Minnesota.

Kristine sat at the counter in her cut-off jeans and gym socks, dirty sneakers dangling from the stool, biting her lip and twirling her hair as she studied the geography of places she’d never see. . .

After the reading, Tammie/Raven took a deep breath and closed her eyes as if my future was exhausting, even to her. I tried to suppress my laughter, but the Avon catalog was still on the table, and my pockets were full of tiny test tubes of lipstick and Timeless Ultra cologne. . .

The baby was shirtless in October, splotches of M&M colors covering his chest as he sucked on a faded blue bottle filled with Sprite. . .

His voice rose as he repeated his request that I borrow him a big. A what? I asked. A BIG!!! he screamed. I asked him to write it down.  Oh, a bag.  Well, he replied, dat’s what I sayd a doozen times, ain’t it?

Minnesota has been my wilderness.  A land without a foreseeable horizon.  There are too many trees here, too many exclamation points, and too many strange stories.  I need the neatness of a valley to lay everything out in — I need to be able to see for miles ahead — I need sunshine to dry out and cure my memories.

California! Tahoe! Santa Monica! Santa Cruz!  It’s still a long ways off, but in the meantime I’m peering through the shadows of trees, imagining once again feeling like a friendly native in a land of diverse freaks I’m comfortable with and who speak the same language.  And sure, California probably invented the exclamation point (as well as the word awesome) but much like bronzer and belly button rings  Californians just wear them better.

Edited, 6/11/09

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Universities in the “Show-Me” state of Missouri seem to like studying blogs and the characters of those who write them.  Last year, the Missouri State University in Springfield asked me to participate in a student study on media ethics and the “Wild West” of the internet. Yesterday, Tal Yakoni and Dr. Simine Vazire of the Washington University in St. Louis sent me an email soliciting my participation in a personality test to help them study the link between a writer’s personality and the “content and style” of their writing.

I had my choice between a 10 minute, 100 question test or a longer 300 question version.  I’m impatient, so I chose the option that took the least amount of effort.  I’m pretty sure that psychology would give me a demerit for that, since its a subjective science that seems to use Jesus as a role model — and we all know that Jesus wasn’t a slacker.

As a school of thought psychology, like Jesus’s Christianity, seems to value a sense of altruism and sacrifice in its adherents.  It advances a pseudo-religious creed of love for all mankind, unselfishness, and an unbridled spirit of empathy and compassion.  It wants disciples who will strive to maintain a happy, positive attitude no matter how wretched or difficult a situation might be.

But are the ideals and expectations of psychology rational?  Do the terms and labels employed by psychology work toward better understanding and social enlightenment, or are they simply a convenient way to exclude in some way those who don’t fit the mold?

One of the agree/disagree statements on the personality test was:  “You have a good word for everybody”.  This is a question meant to measure one’s level of “agreeableness” — the value an individual places on getting along with other people.  The higher your score, the more “considerate, friendly, compassionate, generous, helpful, and willing to compromise” you are considered to be.  In other words, you’re that much closer to Jesus.

The problem with the “good word” question is that it’s illogical. Jesus might say there’s no such thing as an illogical question, but how rational was a man who believed he could walk on water and rise from the dead?  Jesus today would have been locked up or put on some heavy doses of anti-psychotic medication yet the school of psychology, perhaps unwittingly, relies on a role model very similar to Jesus to inform its beliefs on what constitutes the most positive and desirable individual traits.

As a rational person, I don’t have a good word to say about murderers, child abusers, rapists, suicide bombers, white collar thieves, war mongers, wife beaters, and baby slayers.  Jesus might have felt a calling to dig into the dark souls of the wretched and pluck out a ray of light — but I don’t see the point.  While it pays to understand the why and how of society’s predators so that we can work on prevention, I feel no particular compassion, empathy, or mercy towards the who that committed the crime.  A person who can rape a child, beat a woman to death, kill dozens in a bombing — or who revels in the high life after stealing millions of dollars from others — does not, in my opinion, merit empathy, but disdain.

Another unqualified test statement was “You like to make people happy”.  I know there are some people who might rejoice (such as neoconservatives and child abusers) if I never wrote another word, but I don’t really care about their happiness.  I’m also sure it thrills my neighbor when I clean up his dog’s shit from the communal lawn, but I don’t do it to make him happy. I do it because I have a dog and don’t want the condo association to change its pet-friendly policies.

Jesus would probably clean up after the lazy neighbor as a good deed.  Jesus liked to do good deeds even if they weren’t rewarded — but of course they usually were.  In fabled stories, the wicked would see Jesus’s good example,  have an epiphany, and fall to their knees in gratitude.

In real life, I resent picking up basketball-sized mounds of German Shepherd shit, and the only epiphany my negligent neighbor seems to have had, despite letters and conversations, is that someone else will eventually take care of the mess.  I don’t delight in Sunday mornings hunched over piles of dog poop with rubber gloves, but I might feel quite differently if my neighbor was incapacitated or actually needed my help.

Like most people, I also enjoy making those I love, admire, or otherwise value happy.  There’s gratification in giving to friends and family members, as well as to those whom I see as deserving but less fortunate. So do I like to make people happy? It depends on who they are and whether or not their happiness is important to me.

The test asked if I agreed or disagreed with the statement: “I am not interested in abstract ideas”.  Again, it depends. I met a philosophy student once who insisted that a Pepsi can only existed because I thought it did. He did not believe that material reality could exist outside of one’s own beliefs.  I wasn’t interested in his abstract (nonsensical) theory at all.  Carl Sagan, though, has put out some abstract theories that are fascinating — and so did Jesus — which is what I believe is at the root of psychology’s odd mix of mysticism and studied rationales.

The “think positive” movement is a prime example of mixing magical thinking with academic study.  “Think it and be it” and other reality-defiers are buoyed by massive studies that lead to such sterling conclusions as “happy people are happier”.

The feeling of happiness, despite the reality of circumstances, (think Job, think Jesus on the cross) has, in tides and trends, been sold like a mandate to the masses, and this mandate has diluted even our language — there are no obstacles, only challenges.  We don’t have problems, but issues.  We don’t have realities, but perceptions.  What would Jesus do?

Jesus likely wouldn’t have invented electricity, the telephone, the automobile, or the  MacBook Pro that I covet.  While I disagree with much of the criteria that psychology professor Dean Keith Simonton used to define genius in his recent book,  I agree with his general conclusion that geniuses tend to be “open to experience, introverted, (and) hostile. . .”.  In other words, not very Jesus-like at all.

What label, besides “hostile”, does psychology put on those who are emotionally reactive and therefore more likely to experience “negative” feelings such as anger and frustration?  Psychology calls them neurotic.  The old testament God would have scored very high in this category but the softer, gentler Jesus would have scored low.  According to psychology, the mythical God, creator of the world — the one who was emotionally reactive, moody, and easily irritated –  would have a diminished ability to “think clearly, make decisions, and cope effectively with stress”.  Jesus, by contrast, would be “calm and emotionally stable”.

If Simonton’s personality theory of genius is to be believed, then shouldn’t we be concerned with how much potential is being thwarted in classrooms when non-conforming smart children, who are easily bored and irritated, are taught a curriculum that’s geared towards the average and not the exceptional?  What about adults with above-average intelligence who find themselves frustrated by slow thinkers, outdated methods, and irrational beliefs?

The Jesus-model of psychology would have everyone believe that they are special and unique — but no more special or unique than anyone else –  which really gives “special” a whole new meaning, one that’ s not quite sameness, but more like same worth.  To feel that you may have more intrinsic or social worth than someone else, (no matter how base, unethical, or irrational that someone might be),  is considered by psychology to be arrogant, narcissistic, grandiose –  even delusional.  It’s just not very Jesus-like.

Jesus died on the cross for the sins of others, and didn’t whine enough about it to be considered a martyr or someone suffering from persecution complex, therefore it stands to (psychology’s) reason that people should be selfless enough to see the positives in their own adverse circumstances.  It’s not what happens to you, it’s how you feel about it.  You choose your own feelings.  No one else and no other circumstance can dictate the way you feel — it’s a choice — so think positive.

Try to keep that in mind the next time someone slams your finger in a car door or empties your retirement account. What would Jesus do? He’d forgive, of course, and then find a way to make it a positive, life-affirming experience because, after all, happy people are happier. And happier people are just a whole lot more fun to be around than those who are always questioning reason and authority and letting themselves be bugged by facts or circumstances that are not in their milieu or immediate power to change.

Yet no change occurs in a vacuum, and every grassroots social cause begins with disgruntlement or unhappiness over a certain situation — whether or not it is our own, or even on shared soil.  Positive changes, in other words, often stem from “negative” feelings and thoughts.  While joy is certainly a preferred feeling for its euphoric qualities, this doesn’t lessen the validity or rationality of other emotions, such as frustration, anger, or sadness.  That some people might feel these “negative” emotions more often than others might not indicate neuroses, but a heightened sense of awareness of the world outside their own front door.

Another flaw in personality tests is that questions are often asked in slightly different ways in order to measure truthfulness, but for many people, including myself, a change in wording is a change in meaning. “Do you feel that you have had more bad experiences than most other people” is, to me,  a totally different question than “Do you feel that you are cursed”.  One may be an arguable fact, while the other indicates a belief in the mystical concepts of blessings and curses.

The storied Jesus, while hanging on a cross, went through a range of emotions, at first blaming his father for forsaking him, then believing that he was being tortured so that others could be forgiven. I believe Jesus’s MMPI scores would have fluctuated dramatically given the day. In the end, though, it’s the feel-good story of Jesus — as a simple, self-sacrificing, loving, humble, calm, altruistic forgiver of all wrongs — that seems to inform psychology’s definition of social harmony and mental health.  There is no doubt that many people, particularly the religious, find this not only acceptable but somehow perfect.  After all, who wouldn’t want to be more like Jesus?

There’s a disparity between Jesus and mere mortals, though, that many seem to forget.  Jesus could turn water into wine, heal the sick, stop a storm, and drive the evil spirits out of the wicked and possessed.  Is it any wonder he was such a calm, affable guy?  I know I’d be much less stressed out if I was capable of pulling off a miracle or forty-seven.  I’d definitely be a lot more agreeable.

If psychiatry is to psychology what science is to art, (and I believe there’s truth in that), but both rely on the Jesus model to some degree, then both would seem to be less rational, less tolerant of difference, more bent on conformity, and ultimately much more limiting to the advancement of humanity, than they make themselves out to be.

How many employers are now using personality tests to decide who gets a job and who doesn’t?  How many “introverted” people or “hostile” geniuses are being excluded from consideration due to these supposedly undesirable traits? In schools, how many extraordinarily bright but “easily frustrated” children are being labeled with ADD or personality disorders?   How many potential “beautiful minds” have we lost by insisting that they are not socially harmonious or agreeable enough for our schools, our workplaces, our institutions?

How many potential  Galileos and Van Goghs would the modern day world of psychology have us abandon to the mythical, invisible role model of Jesus?

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As I was gathering materials and enough righteous indignation to bring you another WTF Friday, a light bulb went off.  Surely, I thought, there’s a job out there for me reporting nothing but meaningless trivia.  Plenty of  people seem to be making their livelihoods this way, and I’m sure I could write a compelling two paragraphs about Angelina taking her daughters to an art store.  In fact, I could probably cover that, plus Pamela Anderson’s naked ass, and Lindsay Lohan’s consumption of a Big Mac before noon — which would leave me plenty of time to write about something meaningful — like how a sleazy gossip site like TMZ managed to get a picture of Rihanna’s battered face from the files of the LAPD.   Or the sense of entitlement that goes along with deciding to  re-victimize a woman, and make a few bucks by exploiting her pain.  (No link provided, because I think it’s disgusting, and that a couple of people need to lose their j-o-bee’s).

This edition of WTF Friday doesn’t aim to ask any deep questions, though. Taking the lead from some big, popular publications, we are instead going to ponder the inane and irrelevant with all the lightheartedness we can muster in a world where puffed-up provocateurs like Rush Limbaugh make more in a month than many of us will earn in a lifetime.

Oh yes, I know, my kindred American dreamers.   It’s all about working hard, keeping our noses clean, and paying the bills.  The working-class ethos of my ragtag childhood are ringing in my ears at this very moment.  There’s no such thing as cheap Oxycontin, a free lunch, or a free ride.  People with lots of money work really really hard and make wise decisions.  Just ask newly-minted millionaire Dustin Dibble, age 25.

Dibble had to work (the bottle) really hard in 2006 in order to get drunk enough to fall into the path of an oncoming subway train.  He lost part of one leg, but was so inebriated that he doesn’t even remember falling.  A New York jury recently awarded Dibble 2.3 million dollars after his attorney convinced the jury that the conductor was 65% at fault for not stopping in time.  Dibble stumbled onto the track when the train was about 180 feet away.

Elaine Hess of Florida also recently raked in the big bucks — $8 million of them — because her chain-smoking husband died in 1997 after a forty year habit.   8000 other Floridians are standing in the same lawsuit line, waiting for their slice of a $145B class action award the State won from big tobacco several years ago.  Never mind that these billions could have been used to fund actual health care costs, cessation programs for smokers, and prevention programs — all of which were originally part of several State’s cases against big tobacco.   Instead, let’s make a few millionaires, buy some golf carts, hire a dogcatcher, build a museum… because.  Well, didn’t we just talk about shit garden economics, and the vegetables it grows?

The question on everyone’s mind though should be What Really DID happen to Anna Winthour’s Thumb? If you don’t know who Anna Winthour is, then we’re pretty much on the same page.   I didn’t know either, but my fashion is pretty much limited to tatty sweaters and faded jeans.  In the world out THERE, where the super-riche and fashionable people live, Winthour is the editor of that thick pile of ads otherwise known as Vogue.  The mystery in the fashion world this week wasn’t why women can no longer find jeans without lycra in them, or why Vera Wang designed such hideous clothes for Kohl’s, it was why Winthour was wearing a Band-Aid on her thumb.  This incredibly important story is complete with a slide show, and the relieving news that Winthour miraculously healed — even if the reporter’s emails to Vogue did go mysteriously unanswered.

It might also behoove you to know that “Hillary Clinton’s Glasses Make Rare Appearance in Seoul”.  And yes, thank God, there’s another slideshow.

My point is — we seem to have missed the gravy train, people.  As far as I know, there is not one paid reporter of meaningless news, or multi-million dollar lawsuit winner among us.  WTF? I think some of us may have taken that whole work-hard-keep-your-nose-clean-American-dream thing a little too seriously.

So how was YOUR week?  Any WTF’s you’d like to unload?

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