Wonkette has the find of the week today with this screengrab from Fox and Friends. Look, even the Chicago Maroon makes mistakes every once in a while, but there's a difference between, say, misspelling "public" as "pubic," and thinking that Frederick Douglass debated Abraham Lincoln. (Not that I wouldn't have paid to watch that debate).

On an unrelated note, I've been meaning to clarify my earlier post on Jeremiah Wright. My point is not that Jeremiah Wright is an entirely rational, sane individual—I think he's got crazy streak, as his press conference Monday displayed. It's just that in order for that to actually be exploited politically it needs to be distorted to an extent that's unfair to the Pastor, Trinity, Obama, and just about everyone else within six degrees of seperation. If you take issue with his sermons, by all means, take issue with his sermons. But just don't assume that it's at all relevant to Barack Obama.

Labels: alumni, FOX News, Jeremiah Wright, slavery

After watching the actual footage of Jeremiah Wright delivering his post 9/11 sermon, I can't help but wonder how people can possibly be so flat-out wrong in their interpretation of his remarks. As I wrote before, if you can get past his rhetorical style (it does take some getting used to, especially if you're used to the Catholic mass), what he's saying is very straightforward, and pretty fundamental to Christianity: "Violence begets violence, hatred begets hatred."

That's it. He's cautioning against anger in response to tragedy. That's what reverends do. Can you imagine if he stood at the pulpit and started singing "Bomb Iran"? It would be a little out of character, no? So how anyone can sincerely interpret his remarks on a tragedy as some sort of doctrine of international relations is a mystery.

I've said all if this before, though, and it would seem like old news except that for some reason Wright is still an issue in the campaign. The latest instance comes in this ad in Mississippi, which is running ahead of a special election for a House seat:



It may seem nitpicky, but it's actually an important question: Why didn't Mississippi Democrat Travis Childers say anything when Wright talked about 9/11?

It's an important question because the answer is s0 obvious: Wright's quote is six-and-a-half years old. No one knew who Jeremiah Wright was in 2001 outside of Chicago. No one knows who Travis Childers is now outside of Mississippi. The two have no personal connection whatsoever.

The point is that Jeremiah Wright's sermons are only politically salient so long as the original context is distorted beyond recognition. So unless the Mississippi GOP really does have the listening-comprehension skills of a five-year-old, which is unlikely although not out of the question, we're left with the type of race-baiting that would make Jesse Helms jealous.

Rant over.

Labels: alumni, campaign ads, Jeremiah Wright, Mississippi, the national conversation

Because it was linked to me on facebook, and because I haven't used the "animals that also sound like health foods" label in more than a week, I feel compelled to post an update on the Reverend Rod Parsley.

You may know him as John McCain's "spiritual guide," or more likely, you may not know him at all since he's received scant coverage—despite stating that the U.S. was founded in order to eradicate Islam. (Funny, I didn't see that in the new John Adams miniseries). Or, if we're on the subject of historical revisionism, I think this one is my favorite:

"It was to defeat Islam, among other dreams, that Christopher Columbus sailed to the New World in 1492."

Anyway, it turns out that Rod, like his peer Jeremiah Wright, has also alleged an attempted genocide by the government against blacks. This time, the genocide comes in the form of state-sponsored Planned Parenthood, as opposed to HIV/AIDS.

The good times ensue here.

I understand that these things take time—it was a full year before we started hearing about Wright, after all—but again, I think this does lend an answer the question of whether or not we'd care as much if Jeremiah Wright (or someone similar) was John McCain's pastor. The answer seems to be "no."

Ok, this is it from me about Wright-gate. Matt might still have one more since I've had the last word, but I'm all done. Whew.

Labels: animals that sound like health foods, Jeremiah Wright

Our series of point-counterpoints on Obama's race speech has generated what 90 percent of our posts fail to get: comments. As usual some of these are from possibly crazy people that I don't know, but for the first time I actually clicked on one of those youtube videos that people post in the comments. In it is the full context of Jeremiah Wright’s so-called hate-speech about the 9/11 attacks. As I’ve written before, I’m not so sure Wright’s comments are really as bad as everyone has been saying, and this video seems to validate that sentiment.

From the brief clips that have run on a loop, it would seem that Wright is implying a cause-and-effect—that the U.S. got what it deserved on 9/11. The reality is a lot different, and not too far from what you’d expect from a religious leader in the wake of horrific events. In addition to the fact that his “incendiary” remarks are actually just rehashing those of a commentator he saw on FOX News that week, they are also explicitly a “footnote” to his sermon. They are not his response to the attacks—just a preemptive warning against future military engagements.

Anyway, this is where his rant—which began with the Native Americans and moved on chronologically (and selectively) through U.S. history from there—ended up:

Violence begets violence. Hatred begets hatred. And terrorism begets terrorism. A white ambassador said that, y’all. Not a black militant. Not a reverend who preaches about racism. An ambassador whose eyes are wide open and who’s trying to get us to wake up and move away from this dangerous precipice upon which we are now poised.

The ambassador said the people we are wounding don’t have the military capability we have. But they do have individuals who are willing to die to take thousands with them, and we need to come to grips with that. Let me stop my faith footnote right there and ask us to think about that the next few weeks if God grants us that many days.

From there he returned back to the main subject of his sermon: The attacks are a time for introspection, and a time to reevaluate our personal relationship with God. Nothing too racy there, and certainly not on the same level as Gerry Falwell.

Again, I think at his worst, Wright is part of a problem, propagating harmful myths and venting his rage when he should take leadership. But in this case, his comments veer perhaps only slightly to left of what was being said at houses of worship all around the country, emphasizing peace and a faith in a time of turmoil. I certainly wouldn't ask him to teach a political science class, but I doubt I would have walked out on this sermon, either.

I also wonder what effect his rhetorical style has on public perception of his comments. I find it fascinating but also unfamiliar and over-the-top, which is likely to exacerbate any skepticism viewers may have.

Labels: Jeremiah Wright

Since Barack Obama’s pastor has oddly become the single most important issue facing Americans in 2008—more dangerous, even, than killer knickerbockers—it got me to thinking: “Is Jeremiah Wright really the monster they say he is?”

Michael Gerson seems to think so. So does Matt. And Charles Krauthamer. And Jeff Jacoby. It has been emphasized by conservative pundits and readily accepted as fact by most on the Left. However I think it’s a mistake to simply dismiss Wright as a hate-monger without taking a closer look. More importantly, it resurrects the issue of John McCain’s courting of the pastor John Hagee—and why it isn’t given the same treatment as Wright-gate.

Regarding the HIV/AIDS claims, Wright is no doubt incorrect, and his remarks on the matter are angry and belligerent. But they don’t exist in a vacuum. They stem instead from a history of racial conflict—centuries of mistreatment that allow such sentiments (and often diseases themselves) to fester and then spread. The Tuskegee Experiments stand out as a not-so-shining example of the ill effects that governmental racism can have. Wright’s views are in the minority among African Americans, but only barely: According to a recent Washington Post study, 48.2 percent of blacks “agreee somewhat or strongly [that] HIV/AIDS is a man-made virus.

Are comments like Wright’s harmful? Of course. We should be quick to condemn dangerous and inaccurate conspiracy theories, and in his speech Obama was unequivocal in this regard. I wish he had been more outspoken on this at the time, and maybe he will more ably utilize the bully pulpit in the future. Nonetheless, it seems a bit reckless to call these remarks “hateful.”

His appeal to “God damn America” is likewise rife with anger and frustration—and is appallingly devoid of the rhetorical punch it sought to deliver. For those reasons, it is “incendiary,” but you’d have to try very hard to personally be offended by it. In context, it is meant to be a clever play on “God Bless America,” which he repeats first in a questioning tone, before concluding otherwise.

As with his comments on HIV/AIDS, and the US-of-KKK, we’d be foolish to simply mark it off as hate-speech without actually considering what makes Wright say stuff like this. Those words aren’t hurting anybody, nor are they inciting retribution toward any group; they’re just angry, every bit worthy of the title of “crazy uncle.”

The point is, that no matter how we may personally react to Wright’s most incendiary soundbites (I found them troubling and tragic), they exist for the most part at a level comfortably below “hate.”

The same cannot be said for John Hagee, a high-profile John McCain endorser. His beliefs are not born of circumstance and history, which explain but don’t justify Wright’s hysterical statements. No, Hagee’s vitriol is a product of his core beliefs—that Catholics are degenerate, Muslims are a scourge, and gays cause natural disasters. (more here!). Any comparison between Hagee and Wright needlessly lets the former off the hook.

Although Hagee’s remarks may be more hateful and more numerous, I think most reasonable people would agree that neither man has a place in presidential politics. Thus, Obama was understandably criticized for his association with the reverend, but when the media and rivals called for an explanation, he provided one, explaining that while he firmly denounced Wright’s statements he could not disown his friend of 20 years. It may not have satisfied everyone, but it nonetheless defied precedent and exceeded the expectations to which every other candidate has been held.

Unlike Obama, who has known Wright since the Senator was still in his 20s, McCain’s relationship with Hagee is political, not personal. The pastor has admitted that McCain personally approached him looking for an endorsement, and the alliance is designed to exploit Hagee’s powerful bloc of Christian Zionists. With none of the spiritual ambiguity of Wright-gate, the question, then, is “What is his excuse?” McCain has none.

He curtly dismissed the ensuing criticism, and then sent surrogates like Kay Bailey Hutchinson out to say, essentially, that this is no big deal. Perhaps. But that all depends on the nature of his relationship with Hagee, which he has failed to elaborate on. He eventually offered a one-paragraph condemnation of any statements that offended Catholics, but not Muslims or gays (or poor J.K. Rowling). With no knowledge of the pastor besides what we know, the decision to court Hagee was truly a question of judgment. And in this case, McCain sided with politics over morality.

Just because he writes the best speeches doesn’t mean Barack Obama should be the only candidate held responsible for his actions. Which is why the tremendous gap in coverage between McCain’s endorsement by John Hagee, and the remarks of Jeremiah Wright are so disconcerting. And this is why the fallout from Wright has spurred a discussion not just on religion, but on race—because it looks to be the outstanding variable in play here.

Labels: Barack Obama, Jeremiah Wright

The most interesting criticism to arise from Barack Obama’s speech on race stems from the nature of his relationship with the Reverend Jeremiah Wright. As Michael Gerson put it in Wednesday’s Washington Post, “Barack Obama is not a man who hates—but he chose to walk with a man who does.”

Gerson’s argument is predicated on two parts: That Wright is, in fact, a man who hates, and that Obama should have left Trinity as a result. The first point is less relevant for now—Wright is certainly capable of hateful language, but to what extent it dominates his sermons and to what extent his political views converge with his religious ones, we really have no idea; It’d be irresponsible to attempt to capture his entire character in a few choice sound bites. But let’s suppose that, in his authority, Wright did stray from time to time into the realm of vitriol and that for a number of these outbursts, Obama sat respectfully in his pew. To this, Gerson and Matt naturally ask, why? In doing so, they fail to give due credence to the candidate’s answer.

The Senator could have stayed at Trinity for three reasons: He could have believed Wright’s every word. Let’s discount this one for now (he is a Muslim, after all). The second explanation, then, would be that he did it for political reasons.

If Obama wished for nothing more than a career as a State Senator representing a South Side community, perhaps joining Trinity would have been the politically correct move to make. But it’s clear that Washington was always in his sights. Viewed in that light, and with regard for the past week and possibly the next eight months, staying at Trinity was by no means a cunning political move.

Provided that Obama does not personally subscribe to Wright’s most incendiary views, we are left with this to chew on: Obama stayed at Trinity in spite of the political risks and in spite of the views of his pastor. Therein lies the third option, and the one put forth by the Senator in his speech: He stayed because the rhetoric of his pastor was secondary to his close relationship with the church.

As he stated, his complicated friendship with Wright was always secondary to his relationship to God and his relationship to the members of his community, both of which he felt best served at Trinity. Because of his personal connection and sentimentality—he got married there and both his daughters were baptized there—he couldn’t bring himself to quit the church. With the assumption that Obama did not accept Wright’s ridiculous views, and that this was not a political decision, we should logically conclude, then, that most of the time, Trinity was simply a place of worship and a rock of his community, and that, by and large, Wright was not a peddler of hate. This would explain why an intelligent man like Obama would have first been drawn to Trinity, and as a result, why he didn’t stop attending.

So there is Obama’s answer. Where Gerson errs is in mistaking an issue of faith for an issue of judgment.

To put it another way, I can’t help but relate this to my own personal experiences with the Catholic Church. This all came boiling to a head one night in Washington D.C., when I went with my grandparents, both in failing health at the time, to a Sunday evening mass. Presiding over the service was the Cardinal of Washington D.C.—in the news that same day for stonewalling efforts to bring priests to justice for sexual abuse. Certainly, there was plenty to be cynical about.

Yet there were my grandparents, ever the odd couple, sitting quietly throughout the service. Leaving was out of the question, and not just because neither of them could drive. The Church had been with them every step of the way in their lives—they had put their children through its schools, spent their free time volunteering, and done their best to live to its greatest promise. To borrow from Obama, they could no more quit the Archdiocese, than they could quit their family. The highly personal nature of faith does not lend itself to calculated judgments.

You can argue, as Matt and Gerson have, that Obama should have left the church nonetheless; that the “incendiary” rhetoric crossed the line of decency and that you personally would have packed up and left faster then you can say “U–S-of KKK.” That’s fine. As a visitor, I probably would have, too.

But his relationship with Trinity is far more complex and far more personal than a collection of youtube clips. To the best of his abilities, and to a degree heretofore unprecedented in recent political memory (with apologies to Mitt Romney), Obama sought to answer such questions. His answer may not seem rational, but then, what part of faith really is?

Labels: Barack Obama, Jeremiah Wright

It aint easy being white
It aint easy being brown
All this pressure to be bright
I got children all over town

—Gob Bluth (w/Franklin)

My initial reaction to Obama's speech yesterday was not to break down in tears like Todd Gitlin did at The New Republic, nor was it to take everything I heard as a personal insult, as just about everyone at The National Review did. No, the very first thought that popped into my mind was "wow, that was an awful lot like Gob's song on Arrested Development."

In a sense, that's not entirely off-the-mark. Obama's speech stands out for its embrace of that great rarity in modern political discourse: nuance. His relationship with his pastor can't be summed up in a simple denunciation, and racial dynamics in the United States aren't as black-and-white as they seem; we can find our calling in our imperfections. As Gob and Franklin put it, "It's not easy."

I'll have more to say about it later, but in the meantime, here are a few speech-related links worth checking out:

• Jonathan Cohn has the best analysis over at The Plank, pretty much covering everything I was going to write. Key quote:
  

"No, this speech was something else entirely--long and winding and intellectually honest; imprudent and, in many ways, impolitic. It was far from flawless rhetorically. Parts of it might best be described as tortured, the work of somebody struggling to convey complicated and deeply held beliefs in a context famously hostile to both ambiguity and honesty."

• Mike Huckabee reminded me why, so long as he has no shot at the White House, I really like him. While not defending Jeremiah Wright, he offers this:

"I’m just telling you, we’ve got to cut some slack to people who grew up being called names, being told you have to sit in the balcony when you go to the movie you have to go in the backdoor when you go the restaurant. Sometimes people do have a chip on their shoulder and have resentment, and you just have to say, I probably would too."

• And FreeDarko weighs in, as FreeDarko is wont to do, with some non-linear images and broader application of Obama's words and ESPN message boards. Seriously.
  

Labels: Arrested Development, Barack Obama, Jeremiah Wright