Putting Shame In Its Place

A few people may remember the 1960’s. It is hard to believe that a child born to a hippie or two in 1970 would now be the mythical thirtysomething and approaching middle age.

I remember the sixties and even the fifties. Back in those ancient days it was common to hear parents say to a child: “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.” Used in a healthy way by normal parents this meant that the child had done something beneath him or her as a person. If I refused to share a toy, for example, I had done something worthy of shame. I am not interested in going into all the complexities, subtleties, or metaphysics of shame versus conscience versus guilt. Firmly believing that humans are first and foremost spiritual beings, I am convinced that the Creator built a conscience into us just as sure my Chevy trucks all came with thermostats. For my purposes I am just going to talk about shame and you can figure out the rest of it. No doubt the conscience or the sense of shame can be perverted, darkened or scarred to the point it is useless or misleading. People brought up in dysfunctional environments may feel shame at things that aren’t really shameful, or they may feel shame at nothing.

I am not sure when it started, but personal shame has definitely gone out of fashion. No one illustrates this more clearly than the former impeached president, Bill Clinton. If his conscience had been a barking dog, Clinton would have taken it out behind the barn and shot it while claiming it was a chicken-killer. He was apparently never ashamed of anything he had ever done, from betraying his country to cheating on his wife. Mr. Obama’s shameless lies and misdirection reflect the same sort of mindset. Shame’s demise can also be verified in the slobbering abandonment of credibility by Big Media, the lyrics of popular music, daytime soap operas, “reality” shows, the NBA, and baseball, to name but a few offenders.

In fact, according the leftist intellectuals, shame should be relegated to what other people have done, particularly those who used to be thought of as role models or heroes. We are told that we should be ashamed of men like Washington and Jefferson because they owned slaves. Sometimes the academics just play it safe and say we should be ashamed of every historical figure that was a white, heterosexual male – especially if he happened to be a Christian.

Conversely, we should not in any way be ashamed of sexual promiscuity, adultery, diverse and sundry perversions, dishonor, dishonesty, deception, laziness, cowardice, rudeness, and ingratitude. Other things to be ashamed of would include having a strong military, earned wealth, private property, profit, a traditional two-parent family, and patriotism. Additionally, those of us in red states should be ashamed of voting for people who share our religious and moral values.

Perhaps our most shameful trait, though, is our lack of tortuous self-doubt. If there is one thing above all that keeps me from joining the rarified ranks of the true intellectual elite it is my willingness to make a decision and live with it. One of the favorite barbs aimed at George Bush was that he was obviously not intelligent because he was too sure of himself. He made decisions and stuck by them. He should be ashamed. He should apologize for all his mistakes so that the rest of the world will respect us. How many times did reporters and pundits ask a variation of the question, “What was your worst mistake?” Now, of course, one of Obama’s great strengths is his cool confidence. What a difference a letter makes.

Liberals are proud of their willingness to listen to both sides – unless one side is Christian or moral or ethical. They always understand the motivations of the slacker, the criminal (as long as he or she is from an oppressed minority group), the international terrorist, or the socialist despot. For these enlightened folks it is never good versus evil. It is always degrees of goodness. Understanding will always solve the problem. This is why it is now safe to reduce troop strength in Iraq and dialog with the Holocaust deniers in Iran and Syria. Yes, Hamas wants to wipe Israel off the map, but that’s not a problem because all the Jews have to do is convert to Islam and give up their identity in order to have peace. We can work it out.

I think that is the real problem liberals have with Christianity. If only Jesus had not made that exclusionary statement about being the Way, the Truth and the Life. If only He had said, “a way”, as in “many paths, one light.” Of course this can only be the view of a person who has the luxury of believing that truth is neither absolute nor singular. The sophisticated, cosmopolitan Pilate could ask, “What is truth?” That question did not occur to the thief dying on the neighboring cross. It is all well and good for the academics and the social engineers to debate, dissent or even dissemble, to theorize or to simulate. Let the politicians posture. I have to live and die. I cannot afford to be wrong.

For me, a well-developed sense of shame is quite useful. It curbs my insufferable genetic arrogance. It encourages me to keep my word to everyone, from my wife to the waiter at a Mexican restaurant to my employer. Still, I have to be careful because it can be used against me. I have been shamed into doing things I knew were not right. Shame is not infallible and cannot be trusted in isolation. It has to be informed by reason and by principle. No one, not my wife, the waiter, my boss, or liberals in general, should be able to shame me into accepting wrong or doing wrong.

What am I ashamed of? I am ashamed of every convenient lie I ever told. I am ashamed of not being prouder of my parents when I was younger. I am ashamed of being petty, ungrateful, and inconsiderate. I am ashamed of my moral cowardice. I am ashamed of the times I have laughed at a crude joke told at someone else’s expense, and of the times I joined with the crowd in being cynical about truth, righteousness, holiness, and beauty.

Unfortunately, I could easily go on, but you get the idea.

On the other side, I am not ashamed of America, the flag, or the American military. I am not ashamed of the Constitution. I am not ashamed to say that I believe America is the greatest nation on earth, that our civilization, our faith, and our values are better than any other. I am not ashamed of my ancestors, my name, the color of my eyes or the color of my skin, and I am not ashamed to say that I think everybody should be proud of who they are and where they have come from. I am not ashamed of believing in Jesus, or of believing the Bible. I am not ashamed of having a work ethic, or having more or less than somebody else. I am not ashamed that I believe some things are right and some things are wrong. I am not ashamed of being a man, or of treating women as if they were ladies.

I am not ashamed to say that if you want to live in this country, you should respect our laws, our culture and our traditions. Come here legally and learn to speak English, and I will welcome you with open arms.

I am not ashamed to say that actors, athletes, musicians, rappers and others who advocate or model violence and evil, who call women whores and bitches, who glamorize crime, perversion, and drugs are not cutting edge artists exercising their First Amendment rights, but worthless scum who are just out for easy money and a nice life.

I am not ashamed to say that a woman’s “choice” should begin with keeping her legs together, and that if you behave like a cat in heat you should not expect to avoid the consequences or make the innocent pay.

I am not ashamed to call radical Muslims, Marxists, progressives, or socialists the fascists they are.

I am not ashamed to say that I smile every time a missile strike wipes out a few of the throat-slitting cowardly thugs who hide behind women and children to do their vile deeds.

I am not ashamed to say that anyone who thinks there is moral equivalence between Al Qaeda terrorists targeting the innocent and American servicemen targeting Al Qaeda terrorists is the kind of person who gives idiots a bad name. The same applies to anyone who thinks Israeli air strikes against terrorists in Gaza or wherever are no different than Hamas and Hezbollah lobbing rockets or sending suicide bombers into restaurants.

I am not ashamed to say that if you can’t do basic arithmetic, you should buy a calculator, but you should not expect me to pick up the tab for your irresponsible behavior.

I am not ashamed to say that if you don’t work, you don’t need to eat – and you certainly don’t need to get paid for having babies.

I am not ashamed to say that any government that is afraid of its law-abiding citizens owning the same weapons as the military probably needs to be afraid.

Liberal Music Rant

As whiny-ass liberals go, I like Orson Scott Card. I have his “Uncle Orson Reviews Everything” site on my sidebar, and I recommend it. We would have some disagreements if we met in person. Mr. Card supports sensible gun control. I think gun control means being able to shoot like Josey Wales and Rooster Cogburn. I think an armed society is a polite society and if I am sometimes not wearing my handgun it’s because I don’t have to worry about my khukri running out of ammo. Mr. Card, though a Democrat, fully understands and supports our mission in Iraq and the overall war on terror – God bless him. I’d cut him a great deal of slack on that alone.

I have a copy of Ender’s Game, and I think Mr. Card is a very fine writer.

But now he has done something to irritate me, having gone too far in his devotion to Janis Ian (see his review of Ian's autobiography here). OSC and I are about the same age. We both heard Janis Ian sing “At Seventeen” on the radio in the top-40 rotation. He went out and bought the album. To be honest, as a teenager, I battled depression and self-loathing. Nevertheless, on my darkest, most self-hating day I would not have actually paid money to have a Janis Ian record, not even the buck for a 45 (note to younger readers – a “45” does not in this case refer to the caliber of my Colt nor Billy Dee Williams’ brand of malt liquor – it was an analog recording of a single song on each side pressed onto vinyl played at 45 rpm’s rather than 33 and 1/3).

Now I am quite sure, as Mr. Card claims, that Janis Ian is a very nice, even likeable person. The two of them have become friends. I am glad for them. I will even go so far as to suspect that somewhere in Ms. Ian’s repertoire there might be a song I like. OSC mentioned a song of hers called “Boots Like Emmylou’s”. (This gives me the cherished opportunity to say, “Emmylou, I love you.”) Still, there are those hurdles to listening to Janis Ian that I simply cannot overcome – “At Seventeen” and “Society’s Child”.

This was called folk music – I think – because no one really wanted to take responsibility for it – it was just “folk”. Ms. Ian’s songs were humorless, self-absorbed, self-important and self-pitying. Her perspective was that of an ugly, unpopular seventeen year old girl who is not going to get asked to go to the prom with the quarterback. In response she points out that the homecoming queens and cheerleaders will get old. Mr. Card finds this insightful and powerful. For some reason, the phrase “sour grapes” came to mind when I heard the same song. And it was so damned whiny! About 30 seconds into a Janis Ian song and I was ready to stick a white hot poker in my ear to sear the eardrum.

You just knew that if this little drama-queen wannabe were somehow suddenly transformed into a slender, acne-free teen angel she would immediately dump the soulful, angst-y worldview into the koi pond and be at the mall shopping for a prom dress with matching shoes and bag.

All that said, at least songs like “At Seventeen” are so depressing and unmusical that they never become earworms like the worst song ever recorded: “Seasons in the Sun”. If that guy is still alive, he should be dressed up for a San Francisco gay pride parade and air-dropped over Taliban headquarters.

Janis Ian music is liberal music, and, I suspect that Ms. Ian is a leftist. Liberals pine for the fjords – I mean, for equality. They do not want equality of opportunity. They want equality of outcome. Now the truth is the protagonist of “At Seventeen” was not in some communist labor camp. She was an intelligent, artistic person living in freedom in the greatest country on earth. She had the opportunity to be happy, as much as the little blonde, brain-dead cheerleader she so envied and hated. Instead, she chose to be miserable, to wallow in self-pity and make her world far darker than it really was.

She whined about “the valentines that never came.” Hey, did you ever try sending one to somebody? Don’t tell me there weren’t any geek boys in the chess club you could have dated? How about making the best of your life like the rest of us have to do? How about getting over yourself? Having once been a boy, I can say that your existential angst and perpetual whining is a real turn-off.

OK, perhaps I am much shallower than Orson Scott Card. I will concede that. But with all the darkness and evil in the world, is it too much to ask that music be, like, not so dark? And it’s not that I am opposed to sad music. One of the traditional themes of bluegrass music is something like: boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy kills girl and goes to prison. It is not, however, self-pitying. No where in any song on my MP3 player is there expressed an idea as narcissistic as “I learned the truth at seventeen that love was meant for beauty queens.” No, it’s just wrong. It is not a universal truth. It is just that you didn’t think you could get a date with the point guard on the basketball team or the centerfielder.

Honestly, the most popular girl in my class had a face that belonged on the cover of MAD magazine. We liked her because she had a sense of humor and did not take herself SO seriously.

The leftists sometimes refer to those who are “winners in life’s lottery”. Like Janis Ian they think that beauty, or intelligence, talent, initiative, drive, etc. means that you have rolled a seven and that ugly people rolled snake eyes. Actually, I think I dated the girl that rolled snake eyes, but that’s another story. The protagonist of Ian’s song said that since she couldn’t be “popular” by her narrow definition then the “truth” was that people with blemishes and imperfections were not meant to be loved. Get real. Leftists, of all people, should know better than this. You could have a rear-end by Clydesdale and legs by Steinway and Bill Clinton would hit on you.

If we let other people define us by our appearance, abilities, whatever, then we will be miserable. If, instead, we accept our lives as gifts from God and opportunities to embrace the grace, we will be happy. And, while I’m at it, God bless Bill Monroe.