A the First Things blog, R.R. Reno tries to figure out why the imperative of Same-Sex Marriage has become decisive—even to the point of blacklisting those who dissent:
I came to see that homosexuality in general plays an important symbolic role in upper middle class culture. It’s an image of transgression, and to affirm it relieves moral pressure, giving room for our own transgressive desires. If two men can have sex, then surely there are no traditional limits on what men and women can do.
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To the extent that virtues matter, it’s those that conduce to personal success or the social cooperation necessary in a complex economy.
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In this context of heightened economic discipline—it’s very palpable here in New York and entirely accepted and affirmed by the well-educated twenty-somethings who flock here—it’s not surprising that we see people cherishing compensatory freedoms. The hard-working twenty-somethings have tattoos, dye their hair weird colors, and want to organize their intimate lives without rigid limits and invasive rules.
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In this larger project of redefinition, same-sex marriage has symbolic importance. Its victory in the public square marks the triumph of a freedom for everybody to make of their intimate lives what they wish.
If “to understand all is to forgive all,” then I hope to see more things like this to advance my understanding, because the debates on the topic itself have not been very illuminating.
Front Porch Republic is running an occasional One Thousand Words series on What You Need to Know About this or that. Will Hoyt recently contributed one on Henry David Thoreau, which concludes thus:
Thoreau is our one, absolutely indispensable American man of letters. He faces east! I don’t mean he looks toward India. Rather, I mean he’s a watchman for morning—which is to say, for the human person and things blazing with there-ness. Given that we Americans now live in a counterfeit world of Anthropologie-anchored “villages,” genetically-engineered “nature,” and ersatz bit-driven “literacy,” the good news that Thoreau sends is most welcome.
It amounts to just six words (spoken after finally sounding the pond on whose rim his hojoki-like hut was built): “There is a solid bottom, everywhere.”
Howard Friedman at the Religion Clause blog reports the sort of thing that just makes me furious. Merde Il Pleut en Québec:
In the Canadian province of Quebec, the ruling Party Quebecois plans to introduce a Charter of Quebec Values which, among other things, will ban public employees from wearing religious head coverings or visible crucifixes in the workplace. The ban will cover Sikh turbans, Muslim niqabs and hijabs, and Jewish kippahs. According to a Canadian Press report yesterday, Quebec Premier Pauline Marois says the Charter will be a unifying force for the province. According to a Canadian Press article last week, there is particular concern that a ban would drive out Middle Eastern health care professionals who now work at Montreal hospitals, leading to longer hospital wait times. The proposed Charter would allow culturally specific hospitals — such as Montreal’s Jewish General — to seek an exemption.
“A unifying force for the province,” as in “we don’t need that atavistic religion merde.”
Longer wait times? That’s just fine so long as we’re all waiting together, humming along as the waiting room Muzak plays John Lennon’s execrable Imagine.
This sort of thing – imposition of a hollow culture of symbolic equality – will come, I fear, to the US as the death throes of a nation-state with no organic common culture.
We limped along for a while on the civic religion of liberal Protestant hegemony and the mission of defeating communism. Dubya tried to resurrect something like that by declaring our national policy of eliminating tyranny from the world (or was it the whole cosmos?). Network TV has been eliminated as a unifier, as has public school. Mel Simon’s Malls are dying, replaced by Amazon from the privacy of our easy chairs.
What’s left? “We’re united by our diversity”?
Oh, wait! How could I forget so soon?! After living 9-5 (or, increasingly, 7-6) as geldings, we have the orgasmic freedom to make of our intimate lives whatever we wish.
Have I mentioned yet today that Kurt Vonnegut’s Harrison Bergeron is the world’s greatest and most prophetic short story?
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“The remarks made in this essay do not represent scholarly research. They are intended as topical stimulations for conversation among intelligent and informed people.” (Gerhart Niemeyer)
Tipsy Teetotaler ن 