Political Savagery

For all but the most extreme partisans, being a political figure is virtually synonymous with having an identity crisis. The tension between the will to bring about meaningful change and the desire to stay in office long enough to accomplish it makes it almost inevitable. For some reason, Republican identity crises are especially pronounced.

Despite their party's historic election victory last year, and the attendant chest-thumping about their mandate from the American people, the party still seeks to present themselves as as victims of "media elites". Obviously, Sarah Palin is a poster child for this tendency, but she's not alone.

Lately former Pennsylvania Senator Rick Santorum has been in the news, partly as a potential 2012 Presidential candidate and partly for his "Google problem". Columnist Dan Savage, the man who created that "Google problem" (though many would say Santorum brought it on himself), was asked about it in the March 28th issue of Time as part of an interview about his "It Gets Better" project, intended to help gay kids deal with bullying. Savage's response perfectly crystalized the GOP's powerful/victim dilemma.

"Rick Santorum has said insanely offensive things about gay and lesbian couples. He was a two-term sitting U.S. Senator with a lot of power, and my readers and I are a bunch of jackasses without a lot of power. We made a joke at his expense, and now he [plays] the victim, which is all Republicans seem capable of doing these days."

Santorum's "Google problem" exists mainly because he hasn't done anything of note to push the scatological use of his name further down the search rankings. As long as he persists in casting himself as a victim, it seems unlikely he ever will.

Foundation for Debate?

An interesting side-effect of the Tea Party's rise to prominence is that people seem to be talking a lot more about America's "founding fathers" lately. What's troubling about it, though, is the way these great men are being used not to elevate our political discussion but rather as a blunt ideological weapon. This came into focus for me when I saw someone rattle off a bunch of quotes from Thomas Jefferson, all of them with the apparent message that we'd all be better off if we'd just live by his words.

Whatever Jefferson's personal failings, I think he was a truly exceptional and brilliant individual. However, that doesn't mean that his words (or that the words that are attributed to him) are intrinsically applicable to any situation. For example, the value of the following quote is very much in vogue in conservative circles, generally in relation to perceived mismanagement of taxpayer money.

"To compel a man to subsidize with his taxes the propagation of ideas which he disbelieves and abhors is sinful and tyrannical."

There is, however, one slight problem. Jefferson didn't actually say it. The actual quote is as follows.

"To compel a man to furnish contributions of money for the propagation of opinions which he disbelieves and abhors is sinful and tyrannical."

When reading the actual quote, which was a very brief excerpt from the 1786 Virginia Act for Establishing Religious Freedom, the application to any current debate on government fiscal policy is far more ambiguous. It also highlights the main issue with quoting figures like Jefferson, even when the quotes are accurate.

While there's a lot of wisdom to be found in the words and deeds of the founding fathers, too often they're invoked to stifle debate by implying that if the founding fathers were against something it can't possibly merit serious consideration. Realistically, though, the opposite is true. For their words to have ongoing relevance, there should be serious discussion and sensible understanding of the context that animated those words and deeds. Otherwise, they become empty slogans twisted to suit the propaganda needs of political zealots.

It's easy (and generally justifiable) to slam Jefferson for his hypocrisy on a number of fronts. It's equally simple (and simplistic) to treat his every word as gospel. As usual, the truth is somewhere in between and our country would be better off if we spent more of our time there rather than teetering on the extremes.

I Have Been and Always Shall Be His Fan

Of the half-dozen or so significant Star Trek characters whose deaths have been depicted on-screen, Mister Spock's was by far the most affecting. Even though I was pretty sure he'd be back in the next movie (or at least the one after that), Spock's death scene in The Wrath of Khan is one of Star Trek's greatest moments. It's probably the ultimate embodiment of the character dynamics that make Star Trek more than a parade of outlandish plots and helped it endure for decades.

Leonard Nimoy turns 80 today. Like his co-star William Shatner, who himself celebrated his 80th birthday a few days ago, Nimoy has spent more than half his life as a pop-culture icon. Having directed two of the movies and contributed to the writing of at least one more, Nimoy is doubtless one of the most influential figures in Star Trek's history. This in turn makes him a big influence on the pop-culture of the past half-century. In recognition of that, here are some of Mr. Spock's finest stardates.

Mirror Mirror: Whether they came from mirror universes or alternate timelines, the history of of Star Trek is full of alternate versions of familiar characters. It was "bearded Spock" who set the standard for them, as well as spawning an enduring joke about how to tell whether a character is good or bad.

Star Trek (2009): Nimoy's appearance as "Spock Prime" easily could have been a gimmicky distraction in this re-launch. Instead, his presence was very much key to the story. Not only did his past/future actions drive the plot, he was also instrumental in helping his younger version and Kirk bring out the best in each other so they could achieve their destinies.

The Menagerie: This clever re-purposing of Star Trek's original un-shown pilot was the first time we saw Spock willingness to risk his life to save a friend. As we know, it wouldn't be the last.

Star Trek IV - The Voyage Home: The movie itself makes me question the conventional wisdom that even-numbered Star Trek films are better than odd, but Nimoy has at least one great moment as Spock opposite Mark Lenard as his father Sarek. Near the end of the movie, Sarek concedes that he may have been wrong in opposing his son's choice to enter Starfleet and praises the Enterprise crew as people of good character. Spock replies "They are my friends", as if it was the most obvious (and yes, logical) thing ever. That scene between the two Vulcans was a great understated reminder that, at its heart, Star Trek is a story about people who truly care about each other and will do anything for them.