The Silent Majority

During a recent (slightly heated) conversation in which everything political was put on the table for discussion – from the Cuban Revolution and the “natural” democratization of Latin America in the 1980s to the shortfalls of Reagan’s domestic policy – the role of religion in American politics inevitably came up. Since the faith of our current president provides much of the explanation, if not the motivation, for the vast majority of his policy decisions, it was a natural transition.

What was striking, however, was the unwillingness of the gentleman with whom I was (heatedly) speaking to discuss religion with the same tit-for-tat exchange of facts and ideas with which we had just discussed politics. He did agree with my statement that unquestioned dogma is most dangerous when applied liberally to politics. But that was as far as he would go. The conversation took a quick and decisive turn back to politics.

If one claims to be a person of faith, and readily acknowledges the perils of dogma-infused political positions, but refuses to openly discuss their faith (which, they admit, forms the basis of their political outlook), what separates them from the dogmatic people (usually Arab) whom they criticize? Very little.

What makes the study of political science possible is the fact that all of the forms, history, key players, etc of politics are fair game. Certain ideas are considered more radical than others, but none are considered too sacred for discussion because of some allegedly inherent personal nature of politics. If one is bold enough to espouse political views, it is assumed that they reached these views through some degree of reading or observation. Even if this person’s political views are merely the adopted views of others or the regurgitation of some radio show or biased media outlet, conversation should make this readily apparent. The fact that they exposed their particular political position makes them vulnerable to criticism and responsible for their own defense.

Espousing religious beliefs, however, does not demand the same responsibility of its adherents. It should.

In the course of the discussion mentioned above, I realized that my worldview and the worldview of the gentleman with whom I was talking differed greatly. More important than the fact that there was a difference, is where the difference began. Because one’s view of religion determines how one views the end of life, the ethical responsibilities of human beings, and myriad other ideas of immense importance, it cannot help but be the greatest determining factor in one’s politics.

If religion is such an important player in the world today, providing motivation for President Bush and Islamic fundamentalists alike, shouldn’t its merits be more defendable, and its adherents less defensive? I think so.

Obviously there are plenty of religious people that are more than willing to debate and discuss their respective faiths until all involved parties are blue in the face. The three monotheistic faiths are, unless practiced in the most watered-down forms, ultimately incompatible, and are also equally defensible, given the standard of evidence and the role of faith. This being the case, those people willing to discuss or debate (or murder, bomb, terrorize) to the death, will continue to do so to no end. And even though all of the talk of religious pluralism makes me warm inside, it is more disingenuous than realistic given the incompatibility and close proximity of the world’s religions, especially considering what is at stake.

An Open Letter to Carson Daly

Carson, I’m sorry. Apparently you’ve been begging for scraps from Leno and Conan’s late night table for five years now. For all but about three weeks of those five years, I have considered you kind of a tool. It was in the last month or so that my insomnia kicked in and my bootleg cable limited my wee-morning viewing options to either your show or John Hagee’s “Fat-man Christian Variety and Repentance Hour.”

Expecting to see nothing but cheesy humor, average guests, and selections from Mariah Carey’s “party shuffle,” I was pleasantly surprised to see that your celebrity and musical guests were at least adequate, and sometimes very good. You also seem quite aware that you are not funny.

This is fine because your show doesn’t depend on you being funny. You only have 30 minutes to burn, so there’s no need for Conan-esque skits or Lenoian sidewalk trivia games. Perhaps this is why your guests are so entertaining. Or maybe I’m completely wrong and your guests only seem entertaining in contrast to you.

If this is the case, then any living, breathing person that owns a suit can do your job. I know that the same holds true for my job, but I don’t get paid millions and millions of dollars to be a jackass. I have to do it pro-bono.

Bitterness aside, you are most likely not the tool that I once thought you were. You are, at worst, terribly boring. At least you (or your producer) have decent taste in music and a knack for picking out relatively obscure but oddly interesting guests for your insomniac viewers to watch as they fade in and out of consciousness.

So Carson, I hope that we can put our past behind us. As long as you don’t start thinking that you’re funny and keep the good music coming, all will be well in the late night universe.

Rainbows and kittens,

T

P.S. We’re all convinced now that your ties are not clip-ons. You’re a grown up. It’s ok to wear your tie like an adult.