Seems like I should be getting some royalties from this.
Hm. I might have to go check out this show. With a name like that, it's got to be good.
I just watched a fascinating show GPB program about C.S. Lewis and Sigmund Freud and their debate over the existence of God. The historical narratives are interrupted by bits of a round table discussion featuring intellectual heavyweights and moderated by Dr. Armand Nicholi, who has perhaps the strangest hair I've ever seen, even for a professor.
Then there's Michael Shermer, the editor of Skeptic magazine, who had this exchange with the theist, Dr. Frederick Lee:
Frederick Lee: What if I came to you and I said that I believe social justice is really an unworthy cause. I feel that the earth has only limited resources, and therefore we should maximize the use of those resources in certain ways that will allow the ultimate achievement by the human race. I mean, that's an old philosophy that, unfortunately, was adopted by the Nazis —
Louis Massiah: A type of manifest.
Frederick Lee: Yeah, a horror, right? And yet, without a conception of God, how do I explain to someone like Adolph Hitler, that this is immoral?
Jeremy Fraiberg: I don't think God would've been much help convincing Hitler of anything.
Doug Holladay: We don't want to convince them, we just want to shut them down.
Frederick Lee: Wait a minute, I'm just staying, let's stay with this question. A very simple question, and it says, without an absolute standard on which to stand, how is it that one human can say to another, "What you are doing is immoral." Do you say, "Okay, what you did was wrong, only for practical reasons," as Freud would say.
Michael Shermer: No, not just for practical reasons. Because you wouldn't want to have it done to you.
Frederick Lee: But, regardless of whether it is done to me or done to anybody else —
Michael Shermer: And isn't it a better principal that — of how you'd like to be treated, versus "Cause God said I shouldn't do it."
Shermer is a winsome debater, but nobody asked him what he meant by "better", nor did he explain how he arrives at this concept of should, which was such a central idea in of Mere Christianity. It was also a funny statement, coming right after a discussion of Lewis' treatment of agape love--the kind of selfless love Shermer is advocating--as being the most peculiar and unnatural of the loves.
But the panelists are all very respectful and smart, and save the cheesy re-enactments of Lewis and Freud, it's a fascinating show.
No sooner had I crossed the street and began to ponder my lunch options when I was flagged down by a middle-aged African American male walking with a single crutch and waving a crumpled bill in the air.
"Sir? Sir? Could I get your help, sir? I've got $1 to get some food and I just need a little help."
I get ready to inform him that I'll be happy to buy him something but I'm not giving him any cash, but before I can protest...
"If you'll buy it, you can watch me eat it."
I can't argue with that. Besides, I've heard enough about about relief efforts and refugees lately that there was really no way I was going to turn him down. Before I know what's happening, he's in line at KFC placing an order, and he does so without deliberation. The total comes up to nearly $8, which strikes me as a bit much for KFC.
"What?? What did you order?"
"Oh, no, I only need the ONE side--my bad," he explains, half to me and half to the cashier, who reduces the cost to five-something. I produce a debit card. She produces a plastic bag full of processed lipids.
"So what happened to your leg?"
"Oh. Uh, car accident. I had a couple surgeries on it. The doctor has to do one more because I need one more fusion. And I got some arthritis in there so the bones are touchin'," he said, rubbing his knuckles together to demonstrate.
"Ah."
At this pont, he has one hand on his crutch and the other held his drink, so there is no hand free to carry his lipidinous sac. No worries. He simply picks up the crutch, tucks it under his arm and carries it there as he walks away, completely limp-free. Then I realize he isn't keeping his end of the deal.
"So, what about that dollar...?"
He appears momentarily surprised, then tries very hard not to appear surprised, then reluctantly pulls out the crumpled bill and hands it to me.
"Looks like you're moving pretty good on that "bad" knee. Do I look stupid? Do you think I can't see that you're not only dishonest, but also lazy? You're a shame to your race, and I hope that fact keeps you up at night. Get a job, you ungrateful bastard."
But I decide not to say what I am thinking, and instead I let him go his way, while I am left to sit and ponder how I might be able to turn this affair into an entertaining blog entry.
Sigh.
It was interesting to hear radio personalities this morning debating the looting that’s taking place in the Katrina’s wake. Most of us have seen footage of haggard, displaced New Orleanians walking out of stores with essential supplies such as food, clothing, and, uh, flat-screen TV's. While the rest of us can sympathize with stealing bread to feed your suddenly homeless family, we are also united in our disgust that someone would sink to such brazen opportunism as to walk away with those luxury items. "Shameful," we think to ourselves, "have they no conscience?"
Fred Toucher from 99x, that bastion of morning compassion, was more understanding, saying that we cannot appreciate how living in sudden anarchy would shift your perspective. I think he may be onto something. It is not my intention to justify selfish behavior, but I think perhaps we, as a secular society, underestimate the power of accountability. It seems unthinkable to us that good, law-abiding Americans would, in the absence of enforcement, become lawless. Good people don't do "bad" things, do they? But I think they do, especially once you remove the threats of shame and punishment. Some people have a greater sense of personal honor than others, I'm sure, but ultimately, who doesn't look around for cops before making an illegal U-turn? Why the furtive glance to make sure our gossip is transmitted in secret? You can be sure I wouldn't be writing this right now if I shared a cube with my boss. Our sense of honor, our ethics, and our morality are so superficial that we need other people in our faces to make it concrete. And so once Katrina washes the sheriff away, well, who can pass up an opportunity like that?
I think this also goes to show that hardship does not in any way purify our hearts. When I moved to Atlanta 11 years ago, I didn't turn down panhandlers because of this notion that certainly the humble and poor must be honest. Suffering produces brokenness, which produces honor, right? Not so. It's some kind of martyr myth that we have, but experience says that if you dig a little, 8 times out of 10, those hard luck stories only add up to "I can't tell you why I really need this money." So let's not be surprised that Katrina hasn't suddenly transformed her victims into nobly selfless saints. Whether you're a lying, looting hedonist or a WASP talk radio hero, it takes more than a hard rain to wash away the spot on your soul.