Obamascare: A Poorly Written, Unscripted and Unedited Rant

There’s been a lot of talk out there about whether or not opposition to Barack Obama’s health insurance reform plan is race based.

It isn’t.

People object to this plan because they think it’s too expensive and/or too intrusive. No one can argue with a straight face that the individuals protesting the proposed reforms would somehow roll over and support the plan if it were being offered by President John Kerry or Hillary Clinton.

No.

These folks have always had their principles and those principles have always stood against the sort of things President Obama and the majority of Democrats have been proposing.
So, why all the fuss? What the heck is Jimmy Carter talking about?

Well, just because people aren’t opposing Obama’s plan because of race doesn’t mean race has nothing to do with the debate. Just because conservatives can point to principled reasons for their opposition, doesn’t mean that some of those who object haven’t chosen to express their objection in racist terms or using overtly racist symbolism.

See that graphic at the head of this post? Is that not racist? Is that not the sort of depiction of an African American that comes straight out of the ugliest pages of our history? Mark Williams, the self anointed leader of the "Tea Party Movement," refers to President Obama as an "Indonesian Muslim turned welfare thug." Did anyone refer to President Clinton, who was brought up on meager means as a child, as "a welfare thug?" Or are that stereotype and that word choice reserved only reserved for African Americans?

Worse yet, some conservatives have bitten their lips and refused to outright condemn some of the more outrageous and race based forms of protest, because, politically, it helps them and therefore, the conventional wisdom goes, hurts the president. When confronted with the varieties of protest I’ve described above, most conservatives I have seen on television offer little more than the rather mealy mouthed rebuttal that "this is a small minority of those who show up at these protests," rather than an outright condemnation of the practices themselves. For all the talk about Barack Obama not standing up to the liberals in his party (many of whom criticize the President for failing to support a single payer system, mind you), I have yet to see a conservative show the backbone to characterize the nature of at least some of these forms of protest as overtly racist.

This is not okay.

I freely concede that the individuals carrying placards of Obama as an African witch doctor or advising our President to "Go Home to Kenya," are in the minority of the Republican Party. They are the "fringe element." But the number of those making such protests does not make what they are doing and saying any less outrageous or any less racist. They may have perfectly reasonable ideological grounds for objecting to the President’s proposal, but that does not mean that the way they have chosen to express their displeasure isn’t racist. As far as I am concerned, I understand people who disagree with the President, and they can protest however the heck they want. That’s the way it should be. This is the United States and we have a Bill of Rights protecting our right to freely and openly criticize our government.

That, however, is not the issue. No one is contesting the right of such individuals to protest however they see fit. No one is contesting whether or not rational or ideological grounds for objecting to "Obamacare" exist. They have the right to protest. There are rational reasons to oppose the President’s plan. But, to deny that race is playing a role, for however small a minority, in these protests is wilful blindness, and we minimize that fact to our peril.

Swim safely,
The Lifeguard

Sonia Supreme

Last week, President Obama announced Judge Sonia Sotomayor as his pick to replace Justice David Souter on the United States Supreme Court. As anyone could have guessed, the Republican smear machine immediately went to work drudging up whatever they could to label Judge Sotomayor as lunatic fringe Latin supremacist seeking to rewrite our Constitution from a Brown Power perspective, probably in Spanish.

Here's what they've come up with so far followed by commentary.

1) Quote #1: "All of the legal defense funds out there, they're looking for people out there with court of appeals experience, because court of appeals is where policy is made. And I know, I know this is on tape and I should never say that because we don't make law, I know. I know."

Judge Sotomayor made this statement during an unscripted panel discussion. Many people out there will likely feel that this makes the comment all the more candid, but I think anyone who has experience speaking before the public should have no trouble understanding that we don't always make the best choice of words under those circumstances.

More importantly, however, courts of appeal do make policy choices. News flash, folks: most important cases go up on appeal because they present a set of facts that have not yet been clearly addressed by a particular statute or subsequent case law. Appellate judges have to decide how to apply the law to a given set of facts, and they do this based upon the language of the statute, case law, and policy as it is expressed in legislative history, trends in the law in other jurisdictions, and whether the consequences of their decision one way or the other furthers or frustrates those policies. Whether it's torts, contracts, real property, criminal procedure, or the Constitution, all judges-- conservative or liberal-- do this. As a matter of fact, lawyers commonly refer to it as judges "making law."

Given the context in which the statement was made and the reality of an appellate court's job, I think we can safely say Judge Sotomayor doesn't need to be raked over the coals for this comment.

2) Quote #2: "I would hope that a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn't lived that life."

I'm not sure that Judge Sotomayor's "hope" that a Latina woman would make a better decision than a white male warrants getting too worked up over. After all, don't we all hope that more often than not we make better decisions than others? She does not say that Latina women do make better decisions or any any wiser than white males, so why the fuss? If you don't start from the assumption that Judge Sotomayor is a rogue jurist hell bent on sticking it to the white man, then you can take this statement for what it is. Namely, the aspiration of a minority woman who struggled to reach the heights of her profession perhaps trying to give others with a similar background the encouragement to know that there is nothing about them or their heritage to suggest that they can't do their job as well as or even better than white people.

3) Quote #3: "Whether born from experience or inherent physiological or cultural differences our gender and national origins may and will make a difference in our judging."

I look at a staircase, and it's no big deal. Someone in a wheelchair may well see it as an insurmountable barrier to access. Do you think a lawyer in a wheelchair reads the Americans with Disabilities Act with the same pair of eyes that I do? Do you think the act reads the same to someone who reads it in braille? No, and you had better believe that makes a big difference in how each of us would perceive a reasonable accomodations case.

I deliberately avoided using race and ethnicity in this example, because I think race and ethnicity, not the substantive content of what Judge Sotomayor said, are precisely what make people uncomfortable with this quote. If Judge Sotomayor were a disabled white male making this comment about the rights of the disabled, then I don't believe people would find it so controversial. Would it disturb people if Justices Breyer or Scalia made such a comment? I honestly don't think so. Coming from a white male, such a statement would likely be taken as the sign of a humble and profoundly introspective soul who is nothing short of a credit to the bench and a shining example of our society's aspriation for an impartial judiciary. Coming from a minority, however, it strikes people as "reverse racism" or a veiled threat of racial payback.

The irony is that we should all breathe a tremendous sigh of relief and feel encouraged by the fact that Judge Sotomayor is honest and self aware enough to acknowledge that, as a human being, she is not immune from the influence of her upbringing and ethnicity.

3) She does not have the respect of her peers.

Hogwash.

Follow this link to find praise for Judge Sotomayor coming from Judge Guido Calabresi, a colleague of Judge Sotomayor's on the Second Circuit Court of Appeals; as well as praise from the former Chief Judge of the Second Circuit Court of Appeals and a former Reagan appointee to the federal bench.

Does she have detractors? Undoubtedly. So do Justices Scalia, Thomas, and others. Not a disqualifier.

4) She has been overturned by the U.S. Supreme Court too many times.

This may well be my favorite. If you follow the logic that someone who has been overturned by the Supreme Court doesn't belong on the Supreme Court, then we should also bounce Supreme Court Justices who end up writing too many dissenting opinions. After all, they're on the losing side, right? They keep getting it wrong, so Congress should fire them.

No?

Of course not! Law students often end up studying the progression of case law in a variety of areas, and more often than not, as many law professors themselves will put it, "Yesterday's dissenting opinions are today's majority opinions." Disagreeing with Supreme Court opinions does not a bad judge make. Actually, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., widely touted as perhaps our nation's greatest jurist, took on the moniker "The Great Dissenter" based on the number of times he dissented with the majority of his peers on the U.S. Supreme Court. And it doesn't stop there. Early in their careers, Justice William Rehnquist and even the conservative darling Justice Antonin Scalia developed reputations as "Great Dissenters."

Obviously, I'm talking about sitting justices here, and I'm not saying that Judge Sotomayor is somehow qualified simply by virtue of the fact that she disagrees. The logic, however, still applies. The fact that she has been overturned by the highest court in the land does not disqualify her anymore than being a Great Dissenter should be grounds for removal. Remember, Justice Marhsall Harlan wrote the sole dissent in Plessy v. Ferguson, the case that legitimized racial segregation in this country until Brown v. Board of Education.

5) She is a judicial activist.

This is not about judicial activism. It's about abortion. "Judicial activism" is a phrase conservatives use along with "legislating from the bench" for judges who support abortion rights. The scope of this debate goes way beyond anything I could fairly address in this post, but suffice it to say that there are very legitimate philosophical differences regarding how we should interpret our Constitution. It's a debate between the conservative school of Constitutional theory known as originalism and the liberal school that is usually described as the living Constitution theory. Bottom line? There's a legitimate disagreement here, folks, and if you think President Obama is going to nominate an originalist, then I wouldn't hold your breath.

(Note: Anyone who wants to know more about this very interesting debate should follow the links provided, or you can check out two short books on the subject. Justice Scalia explains originalism in his book A Matter of Interpretation while Justice Stephen Breyer presents his vision of the alternative in Active Liberty)

So let's face it, folks, Sonia Sotomayor is a qualified candidate to sit on the U.S. Supreme Court. I predict that Republican Senators will huff and puff but ultimately put up little more than nominal resistance to placate their constituents as well as the conservative pundits, while the pundits and presidential hopefuls will puff out their chests and rattle their swords since they have nothing to lose but listeners or the 2012 nomination.

And in the end? Judge Sotomayor will be confirmed to the surprise of no one and the genuine chagrin of few.

Kabuki, anyone?

Swim safely,
The Lifeguard

Enhanced Interrogation

“We have to remember who we are and what we stand for, but we also have to remember who they are and what they want to do to us.”

Thomas Friedman of the New York Times on Waterboarding

I don’t know if there’s a better way to summarize my conflicted feelings on this topic. Do I worry about another terrorist attack? Sure. Do I have a lot of sympathy for someone who has made it their life’s goal to kill innocent civilians? Not at all. But I have other questions too. Would I want American soldiers treated this way? No. Do I honestly believe that White House lawyers were giving honest legal advice or that they were actively looking for ways to justify illegal behavior? I have to go with the latter.

Is it fair to prosecute C.I.A. agents who relied on the advice of the governments lawyers? It doesn’t seem so, but the words “following orders” makes me kind of uncomfortable when we’re talking about the actions of my government. I also believe that any American would be outraged to hear that one of our soldiers had been water-boarded or subjected to any other “enhanced interrogation technique” at the hands of another government. We certainly would not be content to hear that said country’s “newly elected administration” had decided to change the policy and let bygones be bygones. We would demand justice and expect the rest of the world to join in demanding the same.

Early on I agreed with President Obama and those Republicans and Democrats who have said we need to acknowledge we were wrong and change our policy, but we also have to move on and put the past behind us. I didn’t think we needed to go through the ugliness of all this on an international stage for all the world to see. But, as I consider what we’ve done and the implications of not doing anything to redress the situation, I’ve gotten increasingly uneasy with that posture. Would it be ugly to have an investigation? Undoubtedly. Would any other government on the planet engage in such an internal crusade for government accountability? Perhaps not, but isn’t that what makes us the United States?

I don’t know.

It just strikes me as a little strange that these days the only time it appears we need an independent prosecutor to investigate the White House is when we think the President may have gotten a blow job in the Oval Office.

Swim safely,
The Lifeguard

P.S.
Click here for information from the A.C.L.U. including links to White House memos on the interrogation of detainees.

Thanks for the Meme-ories

They say these things happen in threes, so I guess that makes me number two (ha, ha). I've been thinking about this for months, but reading Babs' latest post sort of brought it home for me. The more I think about it, the more I feel like I don't have much else to say about not believing in God anymore. Oddly, I still don't mind puttering around and reading what the rest of the atheosphere is up to and even commenting now and then, but I just don't have anything to add to the conversation and I'm not particularly motivated to do so anymore.

So, with sadness, I'm announcing the official draining of The Meme Pool. I don't rule out a return to blogging at some point-- possibly even soon--, but I'm pretty sure I'll have something else to talk about besides not believing in God and how it's changed the way I look at the world.

Thanks to all of you who have become fairly regular readers. Everyone who's stopped by has, in their own way, helped me work out a lot of my beliefs about life and the world, and, for that, I can't be anything less than grateful. If I do return to blog land, then I'll post a link here to my new home in case anyone's interested. Of course, you can also find my email address under my profile too if you'd like to stay in touch.

Until then

Swim Safely,
The Lifeguard

Are You Ready to Rumble?

In the ever blurring line between politics and pop culture, I find yet another reason to laugh my ass off.



Swim safely,
The Lifeguard

Haleakala!

About a month or so before getting married, while planning our honeymoon, the Wifeguard called me and asked if I wanted to book a tour called "Stargazers Maui." She knew I have a budding interest in astronomy, had come across this tour in her research, and thought it’d be nice to spend an evening together staring at the stars with some pros who can point out to us some of the more spectacular sights. Moved that she showed an interest in sharing one of my little hobbies and excited at the prospect of a guided tour of the night sky, I jumped and gave her a resounding go ahead signal to book it.

At the time, I didn’t realize that this tour amounted to more than just driving to some dark, secluded park and checking out planets, star clusters, and nebulas. About a day before the tour, while confirming our reservation, I learned that yes, indeed, we would do those things, but only after a two hour drive to the top of the Haleakala crater. If you read my last post, then you already know something about an aborted climb up the Waimea Canyon in Kauai. The Wifeguard and I drove about two miles up the canyon on a narrow winding road with no guard rails before we started freaking out and beat a retreat back down the mountain. What can I say? We’re plains people, not mountain folk, but I assure you the thirty nine point turn we had to make to reverse course was far scarier than the two miles we traversed getting up there.

I don’t think I’ll ever tap an accelerator so gently again in my life... especially with the car in reverse.

So, maybe it was my bruised ego at having turned around on Waimea, the prospect of a gorgeous evening of star gazing, or the seventy two hour cancellation policy, but I somehow fooled myself into believing things would be different climbing Haleakala. Yet, as we approached the crater from a distance, its peak obscured by the clouds while the radio blared Deep Purple’s "Smoke on the Water," I had the creeping suspicion that I may have been right in an albeit unsuspected way.

Yes, indeed, Haleakala would be different. It would be higher... steeper... with more curves... and with hardly any guard rail worth mentioning. Yes, Haleakala would be different– it would be downright terrifying, and there would be no turning back.

It’s hard to say exactly when I started to lose it. First I remember hearing the car straining to continue up hill, then I remember passing a sign that said "1000 feet." After a while, we entered the clouds and I could feel my ears starting to pop. When we finally got over the clouds and I saw just how much farther up we needed to go I thought I would actually start freaking the fuck out. And I don’t mean panicking. I mean raving like a hysterically stressed out mad man. The only thing that kept me relatively calm when we got out of the clouds was listening to Stevie Ray Vaughn on the radio playing "Little Feat" by Jimmy Hendrix. But inside, I was a freaking wreck.

Every curve we took put me closer to having a stroke. Eventually we got so high that you couldn’t see anything beyond the road but blue sky. At this point I almost started to cry. It seemed like the road would never end, and, psychologically, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to "enjoy" the expansive view, but I compensated for that by giving scrupulous attention to watching "the road" which, as we passed, I don’t know, eight thousand feet in elevation, turned out to be pretty exhausting. The Wifeguard, of course, had the opposite reaction I did and she started nervously laughing as I got visibly more and more agitated over the altitude and the narrowness of the road. Looking back, I understand, but at the time I was absolutely bonkers at how should could possibly laugh at a moment like this. One false move and we could plummet to our deaths!

And as I sat there in the car, my stomach in knots, cursing myself for booking this stupid tour, my back wracked in tension, my sweaty palms wrapped around the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip, I realized something:

I was praying.

Yeah.

In my mind, I was talking to god. "God, please just get me off this fucking mountain... Jesus, let me just snap my fucking fingers and be at the top already... please, God, just get me out of this please, and I’ll even go to fucking church." I caught myself and said "Where the fuck is this coming from?" Granted, while I no longer believe in god, getting him and his son out of my vocabulary hasn’t been a priority, but this felt different. Now I was talking to the guy, and it freaked me out a bit. I started telling myself "Alright, Al, chill out. You’re nervous and you’re scared, but you’re going to get through this. You’re going to get YOURSELF through this, and you’re going to be okay." It didn’t really calm me down, but it at least it took care of that weird prayer feeling.

Anyway, at long last, after muttering a string of profanities that probably still hangs as a dark cloud over central Maui, we reached the top.

Unbelievable.

I can’t even describe how heady it felt to be there. Still daylight, you could actually look down on the clouds! We hooked up with our tour group and ate sandwiches while watching the most spectacular sunset I’d ever seen. A few of us exchanged stories about the drive up, and our tour guides started orienting us to the night sky as the stars slowly started coming into view. It was an amazing night with some truly breathtaking views. You could actually see space satellites orbiting the earth, as well as the center of the Milky Way Galaxy with your naked eyes. Through telescopes we saw Saturn’s rings, countless nebulas and star clusters, and we ended the night with an amazing look a Jupiter and its four Galilean moons. All in all, I had to admit I was glad we made the drive, even if I was dreading the drive back down, through the darkness.

The next day, as I thought about the whole experience, I couldn’t escape the irony of ascending this mountain to flex my amateur scientist/materialist muscles and succumbing to the impulse to rely on "my All Powerful Space Daddy" to get me through my fears. I started reading up on the crater and learned that only ancient Hawaiian religious leaders ever spent any time on the crater since it was considered sacred ground. In fact, the Hawaiians would travel to the peak at sunset, just like we had, but to see their shadows cast upon the clouds. They believed the shadows they saw were there souls, and eventually started a practice of depositing the ashes of their dead at the top of the crater. Haleakala was heaven for them, I suppose.

I started to wonder if they felt the same way climbing that crater that I did? Did they feel that mixture of awe and fear? Aesthetic rapture and existential dread? Amazement at the beauty, but overwhelmed by their insignificance compared to such natural grandeur?

The feelings are the same, I guess, whether you believe in god or not. The universe is a pretty impressive place and life is a pretty amazing thing. Why wouldn’t it take your breath away? But it’s easy, when you’re scared or unsure or yourself, to believe or hope that something or someone even greater than the universe can come to your rescue. The Big Guy Who Started It All will make sure you come out okay, and, if not, that’s okay too, because it’s all part of his plan. It’s a useful and comforting explanation, and it’s one I must admit I instinctively resorted to when the going got tough. Yet, as honestly as I can admit that, I also have to say that I never, for one second, really believed anyone could hear me on the other side of the divide between life and death. I knew I was talking to a ghost in hopes of calming myself down as embarrassing as that sounds.

Some might say that god called me on that mountain and that I’ve simply decided to shut my ears now that I’m back on terra firma, but I disagree. I think that I responded to the magnitude of what I saw, that I reached the top of the mountain and marveled at the universe for what it is– a beautiful and sometimes intimidating place. The universe doesn’t need to have been created by some supernatural artisan for me to be moved by it. In fact, it’s even more moving to me to know that, while I don’t fully understand it, the tools are out there.

Anyway, that’s my parting lesson from Hawaii...

Swim safely,
The Lifeguard

Meme-ories

I’ve narrowed the list down to just twenty seven, but I assure you I could go on and on and on. Suffice to say, we had a great wedding day followed by an equally smashing honeymoon. It’s great to be back, and we’re busy doing a little nesting these days, but I’ll be posting again real soon.

So here’s a little list for you of wedding and honeymoon memories presented in no particular order.

Wedding and Honeymoon Memories:
1. One of the flower girls reaching the altar, turning to me, shrugging her shoulders and saying "What now, Al?

2. Admitting to her "I have no idea."

3. Watching the ring bearer with his hands on his head, grinding his hips Elvis style during the reception.

4. The Wifeguard mushing cake in my face.

5. Returning from the dance floor only to find one of the flower girls sitting in my seat chowing down on my piece of wedding cake.

6. The Matron of Honor pulling a handkerchief from between her boobs when the Wifeguard got teary eyed during our vows.

7. My best man’s subtly veiled reference during his toast to times we’d gotten... um... toasted.

8. Sherb's generosity of spirit.

9. My older brother crying during my younger brother’s toast.

10. Dancing salsa with my Abuela.

11. Watching the Wifeguard and her father dancing together.

12. Doing modified tequila shots with my co-workers.

13. Reading T.’s tribute to the Wifeguard while in Kauai.

14. Learning to surf in Maui.

15. Narrowly escaping the earthquake during our layover in Los Angeles.

16. Watching countless sunsets.

17. Seeing rainbows every day.

18. Tacky cocktails at the Moana Surfrider.

19. Getting robbed twice in Kauai– first when someone stole the Wifeguard’s wallet, and again later that same day at a grocery store ironically named "Big Save."

20. Our aborted attempt to climb the Waimea Canyon.

21. Our successful, but ultimately terrifying attempt to get to the top of the Haleakala Crater, and watching the sunset there before a gorgeous night of stargazing.

22. The equally mortifying DESCENT from the crater in the darkness.

23. The TREMENDOUS sense of relief when we reached sea level again.

24. Scoring a brand spanking new, bright red, Ford Mustang convertible as a rental car in Maui.

25. Sharing the Wifeguard’s first experience with snorkeling.

26. Getting chased out of the Spouting Horn Park by some highly territorial roosters.

27. Watching our world's collide at the rehearsal dinner and wedding reception.

Thanks for stopping by. Like I said, we are a little busy nesting these days, but I promise to be posting more regularly now that some of the craziness is over. Hope you have all been doing well, and I look forward to seeing what you have all been up to lately.

Swim safely,
The Lifeguard