Why I'm a Liberal
and
An Admiration of Janeane Garofalo
Pt I
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I didn't see her, but that doesn't matter.
I was in New York on the day of the World Marches for peace. But I had not come to add my voice. It was purely coincidental planning.
I had given up chanting after the inaguaration in 2001. I could take the cold, wet weather, the full-length furs, and the curses from those in the full-length furs. But he wouldn't even get out of the car. That proved it, to me. He didn't care about legitimacy or "upholding" the office, as he was about to swear to do... He was just going to take what was handed to him.
So I was walking around the city with Basia, pretending I wasn't just off the red-eye from Des Moines, and we turned the corner onto First Avenue, and saw it. A crowd, a sea, a mandate of people swaying and flowing in all directions. They yelled for many things, of course, but that is in the nature of liberalism.
For a long time I regretted the fact that I could not say, with precision, what my stand was on a great many things. I was only (slowly) cured of this regret by a prolonged exposure to people who could, at the drop of a hat, or, better, - at the appearance of doubt, - say exactly what they believed. I realized that I had to give up a great deal to gain a small bit of peace. What I had to reject is the idea of an ideal.
Perhaps there will be a time when I can safely have an ideal, but for now, I've had to put those dreams aside. Until I see some evidence that those who subscibe to ideals are not forsaking some bit of humanity, I shall live quiet and bereft of such cushion.
Maybe I am crazy, and it all comes down to a certain linguistic specificity. After all, I first thought of this when I asked Alex his opinion of the pronunciation of "ideological." His explanantion (pronounced: "I-dea-logical") hinged on the reasoning that no one has an "iD-dia." Now, we just happen to agree on this word formation, and that is only an efficient, if not accidental definition. If you were to jump from a closet and point to a shallow stream of water, demanding I name it; I'd say "crik."
We had that conversation eight years ago (Yes, Alex, eight), and it was the beginning of my own self-enlightenment. I began to hear the word "idea" in fortissimo. And I noticed that those who say it are always ignoring something; some side of the argument; some point of view.
I cannot abide an ideologue, who would base their reason and purpose on an idea. A quotable example of this is in Ken Burns' Civil War when the camera pans up a picture of Robert E. Lee while we hear his explanation for sticking with Virginia over the United States, for which he would "Sacrifice everything but honor..." See, with the right camera effect, the right music, and (absolutely necessary) the "privilege" of history, any foolish clinging to a simple word/idea can seem estimable. But it is not. "Honor" does mean something. But by 1861 it meant barely more than "the quality shared by everyone I have dinner with."
I am a liberal. I am free from the constraints of any one idea. If I march down First Avenue as part of a demonstration, that is the sum of what I am doing. If I carry a Palestinian flag, I am only fighting the wind that might obscure it. I am not throwing rocks. (The picture above my desk, -- of Edward Said throwing a rock in the Gaza, reminds me of the fine line).
This is not a calm mode of living. It's excruciating. While a liberal is characterized as "wearing their heart upon their sleeve", this is what I do not do. That is the tactic of an ideologue. Anyone who doubts the difficulty of having multi-faceted views need only watch CNN and see a guest (liberal of otherwise) cringe at the narrow scope of questions they are asked. These "Q&A's" are more and better scripted than any Hollywood press junket. Heaven forbid anyone give an unexpected (i.e. unscripted) answer. The ability to change one's mind (or have a thought more complex than a ballpeen hammer) is forbidden to the world of ideals (for more, viz. the Dean for America Campaign and Arianna Huffington).
This started as a smile when I first heard JG on the radio... I wanted to say something about how she had the guts to face some microphones, pre-war... How the way this nastiness affected her felt the same for me. I really like laughing, and miss it. But the story got away from me, so... (working on Pt II).