Monday’s column by “minister” Oliver “Buzz” Thomas in USA TODAY deserves recognition as one of the dumbest in recent history not just because of its environmental and “population bomb” hysteria, but for its explicit comparison of the Aztec cult of human sacrifice with today’s Catholic Church.

“We all remember the Aztecs,” Thomas writes. “Some say their religion, with its penchant for violence and human sacrifice, played a critical role in the destruction of their civilization….Now, consider the Roman Catholic Church’s continued opposition to modern birth control…Clergy should consider voicing the difficult truth that having more than two children during such a time is selfish. Dare we say sinful?...When Aztec society was threatened by disease and military defeat, their religious leaders appear to have let them down… Let’s hope we can learn from their mistakes.”

The most appalling aspect of this sort of argument is its blind and fanatical moral relativism, and its denial of anything like ultimate truth (and falsehood).

The fact is that Aztec “religious leaders” didn’t just “let down” their people in a time of crisis– they misled them from the beginning into a monstrously cruel and profoundly evil death cult, based on cutting the hearts out of the chests of hundreds of thousands  of victims.

If the prophetic books of the Bible are correct on this issue (and I very much believe that they are) then those who practiced human sacrifice as part of worshipping stone idols  weren’t just making “mistakes” from which we can learn; they were practicing unspeakable evil that we should abjure and condemn.

The real irony here is that the Catholic Church represents the polar opposite of the Aztec cult, with no similarity whatever.

As the Holy Father made unmistakably and beautifully clear during his inspiring visit to the United States, the Church promotes a “culture of life” – valuing, not discarding or denigrating, even the most powerless among us.

The Aztecs, on the other hand, practiced a Cult of Death that celebrated mass murder as the ultimate act of religious worship.

If anything, it’s the promoters of abortion (who celebrate the sacrifice of millions of the unborn) who resemble the pagan killers and mutilators of children and adults.

The Church, on the other hand, deserves credit for emphasizing life over death---an emphasis that the Reverend Thomas apparently seeks to change.

His column might be alarming, were it not so deeply silly.

We’ve tried to contact the gentleman to ask him to appear as a guest on my radio show – so far without success.

If he is able to join me, I promise not to cut his heart out – but to slice up his arguments with humane surgical precision.

For cultural conservatives, the good news is that nearly all Americans –87% -- still believe in the concept of sin, but the bad news is that we’re deeply confused on how to define it.  According to a 2007 study by Ellison research, an overwhelming 81% percent think adultery is sinful, and almost as many –74%-- say that “racism” is a sin. But when it comes to getting an abortion, only 56% think it’s a sin. More Americans consider it sinful to “use hard drugs” or even to “not say something if a cashier gives you too much change.” The public considers “swearing” or “watching pornography” similarly sinful to destroying a baby in the womb--- an indication of the tough work ahead for the pro-life movement. We stand more of a chance of changing the law by changing hearts, than we do by changing hearts through changing the law. We need to make the case that abortion isn’t just a case of moral sloppiness—like accepting the wrong change ---but a cruel act that destroys a life, inflicts pain on a defenseless being, and stops a beating human heart. Once the overwhelming majority of the public agrees that abortion is profoundly wrong and destructive, then and only then can we succeed in changing its legal status.

In his big speech on religion and politics, Mitt Romney sought to achieve two blatantly contradictory goals. 

First, as a member of a minority faith that’s viewed skeptically by many Americans, he needed to persuade people that his religion shouldn’t matter in a political context. 

Second, as a conservative and a candidate for the GOP nomination, he needed to identify with the Republican majority that believes religion in general should matter a lot – and should play a role in informing governmental and political decisions. 

How, then, could he simultaneously argue that faith must be an important factor in politics, but that his faith should count for nothing in evaluating his candidacy? 

To an amazing extent, Romney’s speech earlier today succeeded brilliantly in satisfying both goals. The key to that notable and perhaps historic success involved the candidate’s eloquent ability to insist on the proper distinction between religious values (which nearly all Americans share), and specific doctrines and traditions (on which we differ dramatically).  

The former Massachusetts governor drew this distinction with the most memorable rhetoric of the Presidential campaign so far.  

He satisfied his first goal – arguing that his Mormon faith shouldn’t disqualify him – and he did so while affirming his personal loyalty and devotion. While acknowledging that there are some who “would prefer it if I would simply distance myself from my religion…or disavow one or another of its precepts,” he stoutly and emphatically refused to bend. “That I will not do,” he declared. “I believe in my Mormon faith and I endeavor to live by it. My faith is the faith of my fathers – I will be true to them and to my beliefs. Some believe that such a confession of my faith will sink my candidacy. If they are right, so be it.” 

This is, frankly, precisely the sort of clarity and courage Americans expect of a presidential candidate. Romney would have already locked up the GOP nomination had he applied the same consistency and precision in facing other issues. 

Meanwhile, in today’s Texas speech he also refused to try to defend the history or theology of his church from its sometimes virulent critics. “There are some who would have a presidential candidate describe and explain his church’s distinctive doctrines,” he said. “To do so would enable the very religious test the founders prohibited in the Constitution. No candidate should become the spokesman for his faith. For if he becomes President he will need the prayers of the people of all faiths.” 

In other words, he expressed the same refusal to discuss dogma as has his rival Mike Huckabee. When the former Arkansas governor is asked his opinion about whether Mormons are Christians, for instance, he doesn’t  “waffle” or “dodge,” but appropriately points out that such questions might be appropriate for a potential president of a theological school, but not for a potential President of the United States. George W. Bush similarly avoided questions about whether he personally believed that Jews and other non-Christians would go to heaven, as did Joe Lieberman when he firmly closed the door on all inquiries on why he didn’t embrace Jesus as his Savior. 

If Romney sounded persuasive about the inappropriate nature of theological discussions in a political campaign, how then could he simultaneously make the case -- as he emphatically did – that religion should play a greater, not lesser role in our public life? 

He did so by stressing the common beliefs of all major American faiths. “We should acknowledge the Creator as did the Founders- in ceremony and word,” he said. “He should remain on our currency, in our pledge, in the teaching of our history, and during the holiday season, nativity scenes and menorahs should be welcome in our public places…I will take care to separate the affairs of government from any religion, but I will not separate us from ‘the God who gave us liberty.’ Nor would I separate us from our religious heritage. Perhaps the most important question to ask a person of faith who seeks a political office, is this: does he share these American values: the equality of human kind, the obligation to serve one another, and a steadfast commitment to liberty. They are not unique to any one denomination. They belong to the great moral inheritance we hold in common. They are the firm ground on which Americans of different faiths meet and stand as a nation, united.” 

Even the most embittered critic of the LDS church must read these words and agree with them – and grant that Romney and his rivals for the GOP nomination all share the values he describes. Would an outspoken atheist share the core religious values of the rest of the populace? Probably not, and that’s why judging a devout, church-going Mormon is different from evaluating, say, a Christopher Hitchens or a Richard Dawkins who is openly hostile to organized religion.  

The key question that divides people of faith from militant secularists is the utility of religion for this society. Does America benefit – or suffer – from the tens of millions who regular attend church, synagogue, temple or mosque?  

Romney aligns clearly with religious Christians and Jews in his affirmative view on the role of faith – and the desire to see not just his faith, but all faiths, vital and flourishing and nourishing the Republic. 

In the most memorable words of a wonderful speech, Mitt Romney declared: “Freedom requires religion just as religion requires freedom…Freedom and religion endure together, or perish alone.” 

I’ve been critical of the former Massachusetts governor in other contexts, but these words deserve to be remembered. It’s possible – desirable, even – that future school children will recall them for their power and elegance. 

There’s still more than three weeks before the Iowa Caucuses and I still feel potent admiration and affection for Romney rivals Huckabee, McCain and Giuliani. 

But in Mitt’s remarks today, he not only looked and sounded like a President – he actually looked and sounded like a great one. All Americans should feel encouraged and grateful.    

Willis Carto and American Free Press

Did my ragged broadcast schedule during the recent season of Jewish holidays (which ended officially on Saturday night, October 6^th) reflect my medieval religious fundamentalism, Zionist fanaticism, or contempt for my secular career as a radio host and journalist? 

Did I miss several days of media communication out of arrogant disregard for my audience or for the 200 stations that syndicate my show? 

A bit of grumbling from some associates in the radio industry, as well as from a few loyal listeners and readers, deserves a candid and direct response. 

For the record, in the four weeks between September 10^th and October 5^th, I missed a total of six days of broadcasting out of the twenty available weekdays; the other fourteen days I managed fourteen live broadcasts.  In other words, the fiendishly demanding religious festival schedule still allowed me to broadcast, live, 70% of the time. 

Of course, that’s still a lot of time off for religious observance – especially when the holidays involved bear complicated Hebrew names and sound utterly unfamiliar to the general public (including most Jews).  

For anyone who’s interested, those festivals are all specifically mandated in the Bible, in Leviticus 23. If you look up the reference, you’ll see that God (or, if you prefer, “the Biblical authors”) used all 44 verses of this chapter to lay out the yearly holiday schedule for the Children of Israel. The autumnal observances include Rosh HaShanah (the Jewish New Year, which takes two days), Sukkot (the Feast of Tabernacles, another two days) and, finally, Shemini Atzeret/Simhat Torah (the “Eighth Day of Assembly and the Celebration of the Torah, the final two days). This year, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, happened to fall on a Saturday so it did not require a special day away from work. 

For those of us who try to live our lives as observant Jews, these holiday observances aren’t optional, they’re mandatory: part of the solemn obligations that God placed on our people forever. Contrary to popular belief, the “chosen people” concept in Judaism doesn’t grant any special privileges to Jews but it does impose a serious burden of special responsibilities. If taking a day off from broadcasting to observe Shemini Atzeret makes me seem weird, different, out of the mainstream, then that’s part of the eternal idea: God wants us to be different, distinct, engaged actively and creatively in the world but at the same time set apart. 

Though I wasn’t raised in a religiously rigorous home (you can read my book RIGHT TURNS – shameless plug – to find out all about it), I’ve observed our holiday schedule since I was in my late twenties –some thirty years now. It’s a matter of instinct at this point as well as commitment; it seems unthinkable to me to go in to work on Sukkot, no matter how much my associates may scratch their heads or mumble. 

I know the term “holiday” conjures up images of relaxing on the beach, playing golf, touring theme parks with kids, or enjoying lavish dinners at swanky restaurants, but no such activities fit into the traditional Jewish festival program. The law dictates no transportation by car or bus or plane (or horse and wagon, for that matter), no talking on the phone, no turning on computers or radios or TV’s, no handling money (so no shopping of any kind), no going in to work even to check up on the progress of your guest host. The regimen of worship services is also intense: during this less than a month of festivals, I ended up walking a total of more than 55 miles covering the back-and-forth between our home and our synagogue (a distance of more than 2.5 miles each way). The festival meals are joyous (usually with guests as well as family) but also filling (with bread and wine each time) and, ultimately, exhausting. 

During this particular holiday season, a friend asked what would have happened if I had simply decided to give up my observance this one time and gone in to broadcast my show. Did I believe that God would have taken the time or trouble to punish me for such a lapse? 

The answer is – of course not. The Almighty, very clearly, has larger concerns and better things to do. The reason to adhere to traditional observance is not fear of divine wrath or punishment, but concern with departing from the pattern of living the Lord has specified for our benefit. The whole system of Jewish observance (yes, even including synagogue services that can last well in excess of three hours) has worked effectively for more than three thousand years, keeping our people together and dedicated through every imaginable persecution and challenge. I don’t expect God to enforce His system anymore than someone who follows Dr. Atkins’ diet expects the good doctor to enforce his system. If you depart from a regimen to which you’re committed, you don’t normally expect punishment, but you will still feel disappointment in yourself and miss some of the benefits you hoped to receive and achieve. 

For me, the underlying value in Sabbath and holiday observance has always been a sense of perspective. When you liberate yourself from phones and e-mail and blogs and all the rest of it for a precisely prescribed period of time, you get a chance to consider where you’ve been, where you are, where you’re going. One popular explanation identifies the Sabbath and the festivals as mileposts in time – making you more conscious, more reflectively aware of the relentless progress through the course of another year. That’s particularly true of the cluster of fall holidays, which all convey to some extent the theme of stock-taking (measuring the harvest of your days in harvest season), along with emphasizing human vulnerability, and dependence on a higher power.  

Above all, the timeless insistence on drawing aside from active, creative participation in the world for a few days a year provides precious lessons in the difference between the urgent and the important. The world of work is always urgent – especially for those of us who work in the breathless, ever-changing realm of media. But the universe of holidays and Sabbath counts as important—filled with family and friends and community, prayer and religious study, gratitude for our prodigious blessings, and conversation about issues and ideas that matter. The whole point is to remember the difference between, on the one hand, short-term demands and disasters that look significant only when viewed in the moment and, on the other hand, those values, practices, connections and commitments that will still seem deeply meaningful many years from now. 

And regarding this sense of perspective, let me add one more thought about the “missed shows” of this holiday season: even with the demands of the Jewish calendar, I’m still confident that I give up fewer broadcast days than any other national radio host. 

I don’t take vacations as they’re normally understood – even when we travel to Israel with 200 listeners, I make a point of broadcasting live from Jerusalem while I’m there. When I went with my family on a listener cruise to Alaska, I managed to broadcast from the Last Frontier. In More than eleven years on the air, I’ve never --- repeat, never --- missed an entire week of broadcasting. 

I’ve also been hugely fortunate in terms of my health: I’ve taken precisely one sick day in the eleven years on the air (I lost my voice that day, and though I showed up at the station Jeremy sent me home). When I travel for a lecture or public appearance, I invariably manage to broadcast my show from wherever I happen to be speaking.  

I mention this record not as a form of braggadocio about my endurance, but to emphasize the point that I love my work and feel grateful to the audience that makes it possible. I hate missing shows for any reason in part because there’s hardly an activity I enjoy more than radio. The fact that I just gave up six days of broadcasting isn’t an indication that I take radio so lightly, but that I try to take religious tradition so seriously. 

In that regard, we’ll face no more interruptions due to Jewish observance for the next 6 months – until Passover arrives in April. The winter holiday of Chanukah is a minor festival, and there’s no problem in working straight through its eight days of mostly evening celebration. The total number of full holy day restrictions that observant Jews will face in the course of a year is 13, and some of those days invariably fall on Saturday and Sunday so they don’t interfere with work. 

I’m grateful to my producers, Jeremy and Greg, who make it possible for the show to operate (with guests hosts or tape) in my absence, to the excellent guest hosts (Dave Boze, Ruben Navarrette and Peter Weisbach) who sat in for me for one day each in the last few weeks. I’m appreciative to program directors and station managers across the country who understand (and, mostly, support) the reasons I take these days off, to our two college student daughters who traveled home for all the holidays to make our home full of sweetness and energy, and I’m thankful most of all to a traditional system that continues to enrich my life – allowing me to return to work with sharpened perspective, renewed energy and irresistible joy.

A raging controversy in Broward County, Florida, highlights the uncompromising fanaticism of secular militants. A new charter school that offers one hour a day of Hebrew language instruction has drawn opposition because critics claim that the language itself carries religious connotations, breaching the wall of separation between church – or synagogue -- and state. Other charter schools offer French, Russian, Chinese or other foreign language curricula with scant opposition, but the ACLU has threatened a law suit against Hebrew, and letting parents choose the emphasis they want.  As a result, the 400 students at Ben Gamla Academy have been banned from studying Hebrew for at least three weeks until the school board finishes debating the issue. Even a Hebrew “welcome” sign on the building needed to come down – because the words, literally translated, mean “blessings on those who come in.” This would be like banning the word “goodbye” in public schools because it originates from the phrase “God be with ye.”

As the President and the Senate ponder the appointment of a new Attorney General, they ought to agree on one urgent proposition: we need to cut back dramatically on the metastasizing bureaucracy at the Justice Department. The new Attorney General will preside over one of the fastest growing operations in government, deploying a veritable army of 114,000 federal employees, at a staggering cost of $45 billion. This gargantuan department features countless sub-agencies, including “The Office of Attorney Recruitment and Management,” “The Office on Violence Against Women,” and “The Office of Community Oriented Policing Services.” Such efforts involve federal intrusions into local responsibilities for law enforcement. Battered wives shouldn’t rely on Washington bureaucrats to prevent and punish “violence against women”—that’s the job of local cops and prosecutors. The nation suffers from far too many law suits and lawyers, and a great place to begin reform would be shrinking—radically-- the sprawling inefficiency at the bloated Justice Department.

Americans traditionally mix nationalism and religion on the Fourth of July – embracing the idea that God chose this favored land for a special fate and special responsibilities.

 

To left-leaning secularists, this blend of religion and patriotism seems questionable, even dangerous – violating the allegedly sacred “separation of church and state.”

 

In fact, the association of religiosity and nationalism began with the Founders; the notion of a strict “wall of separation” did not.

 

Consider the words of John Adams in a letter to his wife Abigail in 1775: “Statesmen may plan and speculate for liberty, but it is Religion and Morality alone which can establish the principles upon which freedom can securely stand. A patriot must be a religious man.”

 

Or note the observation of his worldy-wise colleague, Benjamin Franklin: “And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without His notice, is it probable than an empire can rise without His aid?”

 

May the American empire – a Republic of goodness, kindness and righteousness– continue to rise, and continue to merit His aid.

 

 Happy Independence Day!

 

 My son Danny, 14, is just completing the ninth grade and on Father’s Day (yesterday) I actually learned some valuable lessons from the process of helping him with his homework.

   He’d been given a few provocative questions on Roman history by an altogether outstanding teacher at his high school (a Jewish parochial school), and this assignment gave me the chance to go over the textbook with him.

   Amazingly, his particular history text seemed to pay more attention to historical accuracy than political correctness. “History and Life” (Fourth Edition – from Scott, Foresman and Company) made a credible, reasonable effort to explain the relentless growth of the early Roman state. Under the heading, “Many Factors Contributed to the Military Success of the Romans,” the book listed Geography, Military Strength, Wise Leadership….and “Family Values.”

    The relevant passage related battlefield triumphs to successful home life, with the following words:

 

    “Most of the early Romans were farmers. They lived simply, worked hard, and fought well. In general, the Roman family was a close-knit group held together by affection, the necessities of a frugal life, and the strict authority of parents. Both parents played important roles in family activities and taught their children loyalty, courage and self-control. Most Romans took their civic and religious duties seriously.

   “The stern virtues prized by Roman family life were a source of strength in the early republic. In later years, when increasing power and wealth began to undermine family life, some people were unhappy about the passing of the old order. ‘Rome stands built upon the ancient ways of life,’ warned a poet of the 3^rd century B.C. who felt the need for a return to the strong family values of the past.”

 

   Given the text’s candor in later describing the slow unraveling of Roman virtue over the next five generations, this testimonial to the centrality of the institution of the family counted as a powerful reminder to today’s students.

  The passages I read in my son’s history textbook bear obvious relevance to our current situation where “increasing power and wealth” have also begun to “undermine family life.” The story also reminds us that we’re not the first generation in Western history to seek a return and revival of timeless values – and there’s reason to hope that we’ll find more success in restoring those virtues than our long-agoRoman counterparts.

   Meanwhile, I also felt gratified and reassured by the powerful evidence that some schools, and some textbooks, avoid the traps of trendiness and actually manage to convey, at least occasionally, valuable messages to our children.

Time to update an important aspect of my website:

 

Among little known personal details about me, there’s a mention that my favorite beer is “Hale’s Pale Ale” – a tasty local brew here in Seattle.

 

While I’m still a fan of Hale’s Pale, my affections actually shifted some years ago and now, with a magnificent new discovery, I’m prepared to declare a revised favorite.

 

Fortunately, for a Northwest booster type like me, it’s also from a local operation: the Pyramid people, who run an elegant ale house across the street from Safeco Field, where the Mariners play (though they lost their second in a row in Chicago earlier today).

 

In any event, this ambrosial delight is called “Thunderhead IPA” – the best India Pale Ale, and one of the best beers at any price, of any type, I’ve ever tasted. Even if you don’t think you like beer, this concoction is world class.

 

The promotional legend on the spring-leaf-green label declares, “Way back when IPA’s were loaded with hops to stand up to oceans, elephants, finicky Colonists and spicy curries. Likewise our India Pale Ale is a powerful beer for bold tastes.”

 

Bold indeed: the amazing aspect of this brew is the layers of taste and sensual experience that provoke your mouth and throat when you imbibe. At first, the beer goes down smooth and silky, easy and light, but  then moments later the hops explode on you with jolting force: as fresh and edgy and stimulating as the morning’s first cup of joe, but also stunningly, joyously, lip-smackingly bitter.

 

In other words, this beer is one complicated party in a Pilsner glass.

 

Forget political disagreements or draining controversies. Instead, drain a bottle of Thunderhead IPA and then thank me for the recommendation.

 

By the way, the Pyramid company is not now, nor have they ever been, a sponsor of mine – or in any way connected with any of our radio stations. I wish I could advertise for them (because of the supreme craftsmanship of their product) but I don’t believe our syndication deals allow any promotion of adult beverages.

 

In that context, you might ask why a “traditional values” social and religious conservative would be trying to commend a new brew of beer. But actually, what could be more traditional than the juice of the hop or the grape? About two years ago, they discovered a sealed jar in Egypt which contained the world’s oldest beer --- lovingly prepared by some Nile-river brewmaster nearly 5,000 years ago. Far more primitive peoples than the ancient Egyptians also prepared beer of various kinds – for the fun, the fellowship, the exhilaration, the array of tastes.

 

In our Jewish religious tradition, alcohol (in moderation) is considered a great blessing, a gift from God, a means for gladdening the hearts of men (and some discerning women). Welcoming the Sabbath every Friday night, we say a special blessing on wine (grape juice can substitute, if absolutely necessary) and most families will bring out additional spirituous refreshment in the course of a festive meal.

 

When I attended Yale in the late ‘60’s, the entire student body was bitterly divided between alcohol people and marijuana people. In this context George W. Bush (one year ahead of me) was definitely an alcohol person and Howard Dean (and, later, Hillary Rodham in law school) was definitely a marijuana person. One of the reasons that I cast my lot with the drunks rather than the stoners was that alcohol had such an honorable tradition, whereas pot seemed synthetic, trendy, shallow, with no historical grounding. Shakespeare writes about booze very lovingly, of course (try “Merry Wives of Windsor,” or “Henry IV, Part I”) and nearly all the great American writers were, to a greater or lesser extent (usually greater) drinking men. I went through a stage in my life when I idolized William Faulkner, who fueled his eloquence with Bourbon and branch water, and F. Scott Fitzgerald, who happily drank anything he could find (and needed only two drinks to get himself roaringly, embarrassingly soused), and Sinclair Lewis (my fellow Yalie) who didn’t let his alcoholism slow his witty, biting, vivid literary production.. Dylan Thomas composed some of my favorite poems in a state of perpetual inebriation (he was Welsh, after all). Some of these

 

Raising a glass of beer, or a shot of Scotch, in other words allowed you to make common cause with some of the greatest artists and thinkers in all human history. Smoking a joint, on the other hand, aligned you with a bunch of fruity, dandified, hippy-dippy losers, who seldom produced anything of lasting value (Sergeant Pepper excepted).

 

I’ve admitted on the air that I like to relax with a great beer when I come home, but I never drink at work and strictly limit my intake. Some of my talk radio colleagues clearly fuel their tirades with the demon rum—and the slurred speech undermines their passion and conviction.

 

Sure, I feel some sympathy with the tea-totaler position: you save calories and, probably, brain cells, by avoiding liquor altogether. I respect and admire Mormons, Baptists and others who seem to enjoy life thoroughly without any alcoholic enhancement.

 

Nevertheless, there’s a Talmudic Jewish declaration that at the end of your life you’ll have to give an accounting of all the permitted pleasures that you somehow missed in life.

 

In my book, Pyramid Breweries Thunderhead IPA is an important permitted pleasure.

 

Cheers – and L’Chaim--- “To Life!” 

. In the midst of the fierce campaign for the Presidential nomination, why did the Republican candidates choose to make an issue of the theory of evolution? In truth, none of the candidates ever emphasized this dispute, until Chris Matthews of MSNBC asked the ten contenders in the first debate if any of them rejected Darwin. When three candidates – Huckabee, Brownback and Tancredo – duly raised their hands, the media began focusing on creationism vs. intelligent design vs. evolution, as if the President of the United States got to make curriculum decisions for every local school board in the country. Establishment media often accuse religious conservatives of injecting polarizing social issues into political campaigns but this time it’s the press itself that won’t let the controversies subside—raising odd debate questions about gays in the military, and even Terry Schiavo. The President of the United States is profoundly powerful but even he (or she) doesn’t get to decide the truth or falsehood of various explanations for the origins of life.

The very idea of “Gay Conjugal Visits” for prisoners sounds like a bad joke, but officials of the California penal system are to worried to laugh. Because of the state’s new “civil unions” law, the gay convicts who linked themselves to partners before incarceration are now entitled to scheduled sessions of intimacy, just like their married counterparts. This means that prison staffers who spend their time in desperate efforts to prevent behind-bars gay conduct, including rape, must now assist selected prisoners with trysts involving their “domestic partners.” This absurd innovation exposes the true nature of the so-called gay rights agenda: it’s not about equality, it’s about governmental promotion of behavior that many Americans still consider disgusting and immoral. Gay conjugal visits should cause the public to look past platitudes about love to focus on the raw actuality of male-male eroticism. Is this practice – with all its hygienic, physiological harm—really deserving of governmental (and prison system) support?

Many supporters of the so-called peace movement suggest that some dramatic shift in US policy might bring a quick end to the jihadist ferocity that claims innocent victims every day in some tortured Muslim corner of the globe. According to this logic, the brutality of Al Qaeda, Hezbollah, Hamas and other fanatical groups represents a predictable response to American meddling in Islamic affairs. These terror apologists (or at least terror explainers) forcefully reject the now common conservative formulation that “they hate us not for what we do, but for who we are.”

 

In this context, any open minded observer ought to look at a New York Times report from the Gaza strip by Steven Erlanger and Hassan M. Fattah. With a May 30^th deadline, this story began: “It was 2 a.m. when masked gunmen raided Al Wafa Net in the Khan Yunis camp in Gaza where 17 young men were surfing the internet. The gunmen tied their hands, then forced them to stand at the stairs while they broke all the screens, and then the server and the television and photocopier…Then they burned all 36 computers.”

 

Considering the appalling poverty in Gaza, it might seem surprising that the young techies had 36 working computers to burn in the first place, but the attack only left the wretched Palestinians even more isolated from civilization and modernity. “In recent months,” the Times continued, “there have been similar attacks on music and video shops and pharmacies accused of selling Viagra, as well as on American and United Nations schools…. With the fragmentation of authority in Gaza, and its isolation, said a Gazan analyst, Taysir Mhaisin, ‘there is an increase of fundamentalism and the birth of groups believing in violence and practicing violence as a model created by bin Ladenism.’”

 

Amazingly, these grim developments all occurred after Israel ended its “occupation” of Gaza nearly two years ago, and forcibly removed the few thousand Jewish residents who had established homes in the God-forsaken territory. The Palestinians, in other words, achieved their professed political ends: winning a totally Jew-free piece of ocean-front real estate, and the ability to govern it on their own terms with no interference as long as they avoided cross border attacks on Israel. The result, of course, has been an almost ceaseless barrage of Palestinian rockets against the Jewish state, with an estimated 250 in the month of May alone.

 

And the result has also been the clear emergence of savage gangs who dedicate themselves to hitting their fellow Palestinians, not Jewish targets--- to destroying schools and drug stores and video shops and computers.

 

In other words, the deadly fanatics in Gaza (and elsewhere throughout the Islamic world) don’t just reject a given US or Israeli policy: they unequivocally reject the 21^st Century.

 

Yes, they hate us for who we are, not for what we do—and apparently hate with even greater intensity when they’re given what they say they want, like (the profoundly misguided) unilateral withdrawal from Gaza.

 

In other words, this current War on Terror isn’t a “Clash of Civilizations” in Samuel Huntington’s phrase. It is, rather a “War Against Civilization” – launched and sustained by the crudest and cruelest barbarians on the planet.

  

HOLLYWOOD’S HEIGL PROUDLY DEFINES A NEW SPECIES

 

A small passage in an interview with a glamorous movie and TV star exposes the sense of superiority, shallowness, entitlement and exceptionalism at the very core of the Hollywood world view.

 

Katherine Heigl, the lovely and genuinely talented 28-year-old leading lady of “Grey’s Anatomy” on TV and the upcoming movie comedy “Knocked Up,” provided revealing answers for reporter William Keck in Monday’s USA TODAY.

 

At one point, they engaged in the following interchange:

 

  Q: Your KNOCKED UP character has a truly gruesome birthing scene. And you were in the delivery room with your older sister, Meg. That all impact your decision to have kids of your own?

   A: Oh yeah. I’ve always planned to adopt anyway, but that definitely reinforced my want to. I’m done with the whole idea of having my own children. It doesn’t seem like any fun. I don’t think it’s necessary to go through all that.

 

The very phrase “I’m done with the whole idea of having my own children” suggests that she’s moved to a more mature state of consciousness where she can put aside such a retrograde, primitive notion. In the past, billions of women have endured the agony of childbirth but she’s reached the hyper-civilized, enlightened state where “she’s done with all that.” And why? “Because it doesn’t seem like any fun,” of course. Here we are, after long millennia of human progress, ready to embrace the sophisticated notion that the most elemental life-cycle experience of them all, child birth, deserves dismissal because it’s less “fun” than, say, a Yoga class. Ms. Heigl, apparently, fails to consider that certain experiences and processes might be worthwhile even if they aren’t “any fun.”

 

I know I shouldn’t sound too harsh toward this beautiful and gifted young woman, especially since her intermittently amusing new movie (which I’ve seen) carries an unexpectedly potent pro-life message. Of course, she may change her mind about “birthing babies” (as described in “Gone With the Wind”) as soon as some love relationship intensifies, or she sees that her sister Meg (with whom she experienced the delivery room) actually got some lasting value (it’s called a child) for her hours of maternity ward pain.

 

But please recall that Ms. Heigl already is 28 – not 18. And that her declaration about moving above and beyond the tacky business of childbirth came not in casual conversation, but in a formal interview with the nation’s top circulation newspaper, while trying to promote a major movie to the largest possible audience.

 

Did it never occur to her that suggesting that she’s “done with the idea of having my own children” involved her expressed contempt for an experience that the overwhelming majority of women cherish and anticipate and value?

 

Once upon a time, Hollywood stars went out of their way to show themselves as “regular guys” and “ordinary gals,” despite their good looks, glamour and fame. That connection with the American Everyman remained the very essence of Ronald Reagan’s appeal, for instance—in movies and in politics. It was no accident that Reagan, and Jimmy Stewart, and Clark Gable, and Henry Fonda, and even Elvis made it a point to serve in the military, like everyone else.

 

Today’s stars, on the other hand, feel no compunction in acknowledging the fact that they function in a different reality, but seem altogether comfortable with the notion that they constitute a higher species – unencumbered by the messy realities of childbearing.

 

  Secular militants have provided no shortage of intemperate, vicious, mean-spirited reactions to the death of Jerry Falwell but perhaps the most revealing came from Christopher Hitchens (author of a new book attacking religious delusions, “God is Not Great.”)

 

   Interviewed by Anderson Cooper on CNN, Hitchens seemed oddly obsessed with repeatedly applying a single—and singularly inappropriate -- adjective to the late Dr, Falwell.

 

   In the course of the interview, Hitchens decried “the empty life of this ugly little charlatan…” and then asked “who would, even at your network, have invited such a little toad….”  Shortly thereafter, he declared, “The whole consideration of this horrible little person is offensive to very, very many of us…” He also concluded that Dr. Falwell even counted as insincere in his religious faith, suggesting, “He woke up every morning, as I say, pinching his chubby little flanks and thinking, I have got away with it again.”

 

   In what possible sense did Jerry Falwell count as a little man?

 

   In the most obvious, physical sense Hitchens’ attempt to belittle Falwell might reflect the common envy of a small guy for a larger, stronger specimen. Aside from the late pastor’s obvious girth, he stood well over six feet tall. I’ve shared refreshments with both Falwell and Hitchens, and the Brit’s not bigger in any sense of the word.

 

   Of course, Hitchens and his apologists might respond that describing Falwell as “little” denotes his ultimate insignificance, his limited intellectual, spiritual dimensions, not his physical size, but even here the dismissive term hardly applies.

 

   As the driving force behind the emergence of the modern Christian conservative movement in U.S. politics, Falwell changed history – as even his most vitriolic critics concede. “The Moral Majority” which he founded played a crucial role in the Reagan landslide of 1980, and even more conspicuously led the way to the stunning, unpredicted Senate sweep that gave the GOP control of the upper house of Congress for the first time in 26 years. Twelve Republican challengers – most of them outspoken Christian conservatives – seized the seats of twelve highly entrenched Democratic incumbents (including such luminaries and former Presidential candidates as George McGovern, Birch Bayh and Frank Church). Liberals may lament the outcome of that watershed election but it’s impossible to dismiss its importance.

 

   In other words, this purportedly “little charlatan” Jerry Falwell, managed to bring about a big shift in American politics – thereby qualifying as a major figure in all the battles of the Reagan Presiency and beyond.  Everything about the man actually counted as big – big ambitions, big plans, big ideas, big impact. In addition to his well-known role in politics and media, Falwell qualified as a spectacularly successful institution builder. His Thomas Road Baptist Church, which he founded from scratch in 1951, now draws 22,000 members, and booming Liberty University (founded in 1971) educates nearly 8,000 students (more than Dartmouth or Princeton). Emerson once said that “any durable institution is nothing more than the lengthened shadow of one man.” In that context, Falwell counts as a big guy, with a big shadow.

 

   There is one possible sense in which a major figure might be described as “small” – if even this powerful, influential individual comes across as petty, obsessed with trivialities, nursing grudges and slights.

 

    Falwell possessed none of these characteristics of smallness, and managed to strike up unlikely friendships even with his political and religious adversaries. Opponents as diverse as Jesse Jackson and Larry Flynt remembered him on his passing as a “friend,” praising his graciousness and geniality while emphatically rejecting his ideology. Falwell engaged in frequent, sometimes furious battles in politics and pop culture but he did so, for the most part, as a proverbial happy warrior. The New York Times wrote in their obituary: “For all the controversy, Mr. Falwell was often an unconvincing villain. His manner was patient and affable. His sermons had little of the white-hot menace of those of his contemporaries like Jimmy Swaggart. He shared podiums with Senator Kennedy, appeared at hostile college campuses and in 1984 spent an event before a crowd full of hecklers in Town Hall in New York, probably not changing many minds but nevertheless expressing good will.”

 

    The fact that some of Falwell’s critics displayed so little good will on the occasion of his passing (“Ding Dong, Falwell’s Dead!” exulted a typical headline at CommonDreams.org)  reflects their insecurity and bitterness, not their certainty. Religious believers feel no need to sneer and celebrate when a noted atheist leaves this life. If, as the skeptics believe, there’s no fate awaiting any of us beyond a future as worm food, then deeply religious people have no more reason to worry than their irreligious counterparts.

 

    If, on the other hand, there’s a watchful God who’ll ultimately judge us all by Biblical standards, then the non-believers may face significant reasons for concern. No wonder an angry atheist like Christopher Hitchens reacts with such defensive fury to the very idea that Falwell (and, ultimately, the rest of us) will go on to some form of eternal reward.

 

    Despite the effort to disregard him as “little,” Falwell qualified in every sense as a large figure-- big hearted and cheerful, secure and sincere in his own faith, with enormous dreams and major impact. He never would have stooped to a cruel, small-minded, petty and pathetic publicity stunt like smearing one of his ideological adversaries on the very day that opponent died.

 

   So who, then, is the real “little toad,” Mr. Hitchens?