James Talarico is one of the bright lights of Texas state politics.
I am a recovering fundamentalist Christian, a lapsed Quaker, a secular Buddhist, a spiritual Humanist, a proud agnostic with a master's in Religion, and the author of Presence and Process. When I'm not theologizing and thinking deep thoughts, I'm a songwriter and musician.
Lives could have been saved, and future lives will be saved, not by prayers or by passive acquiescence to what is perceived as "God's will," but by intentional, practical, proactive strategies and actions.
A poem: (Don't Call It) Genocide
Take their land
Take their lives
Imprison them without trials
Wall them in to a few square miles
But don't call it genocide
Kill the electricity
Choke the funds
Keep them moving, on the run
Bomb them into kingdom come
But don't call it genocide
See the children with missing limbs
See the mothers, gaunt and grim
See the rubble that fell on them
But don't call it genocide
Say it's done in your defense
Say that they're all terrorists;
Enemies who shouldn't exist
But don't call it genocide
Make them fight for scraps of food
And live in tents
Away from you
And when they perish, as they do
Don't call it genocide
We all know the calculus
Fifty of them to one of us
Buried in the desert dust
Just don't call it genocide
But the definition's pretty clear
And if this ain't it, it's pretty near
Erasing a people through violence and fear
They call it genocide.
I deleted my Twitter account back when Elon Musk took it over and rebranded it as "X". Last week, after Mark Zuckerberg announced the loosening of fact-checking and of safeguards against hate speech (in addition to donating a large sum of money to Trump's inauguration fund), I decided to cut ties with Meta. I've deleted my Instagram account and am in the process of backing up 20-odd years of data from my Facebook account, and will then delete it. I have setup an account on Bluesky. I like it a lot, but their word limit is frustrating for a wordy guy like me.
Now, if I could just figure out how to do away with Amazon...
After the disastrous 2024 election, I've also given up on U.S. commercial media (CNN, MSNBC, etc.) but will stick with my long-time favorite news sources: the UK's Guardian, Canada's CBC, the venerable BBC, etc. And, for her clear and cogent political news summaries, Heather Cox Richardson.
I started this blog back in 2003, when blogging was a thing. Over time, and to my great surprise, readership increased steadily. Eventually I was getting tens of thousands of views per month and my posts were being re-posted on other much more popular sites. But I never set out to be widely distributed or some type of "influencer." I was just documenting my spiritual journey and random thoughts. Then I got onto Facebook and slowly shifted my output onto that platform. For a few years now this blog has mostly lain fallow.
But now I'm shifting back to this musty trusty old blog. I don't have any kind of grand strategy for content, just occasional "deep thoughts" from a nobody, the way it used to be.
I'm no authority on politics, just a guy with some opinions. So here's a not-particularly-groundbreaking opinion:
I've known several transgender people in the course of my life. You quite possibly have too, and may not even know it. They're not freaks or perverts. They're just people trying to live their lives, like anyone else. That's their agenda: to live a full life in peace.
Yes, Donald Trump is despicable, and has been that way for a long, long time. But he's just a man. What really concerns me is the environment that enabled someone as despicable (and ridiculous) as him to rise to such a level of power. Soon enough Trump will be gone, but that toxic environment will remain. Decades and decades of irresponsible right-wing propaganda set the stage. Propaganda is such a powerful thing (as any dictator knows). In the words of wise Voltaire, "Those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities."
The most evil and tragic of human enterprises is war. Memorial Day should be a day of somber reflection on the terrible (and almost always avoidable) costs of war: All of the young people sent to fight and suffer and die, and the even greater number of noncombatants who also have their lives destroyed. 90% of all deaths in war are civilians. According to a 2001 study by the International Committee of the Red Cross, the civilian to soldier death ratio in wars fought since the mid-20th century has been 10:1, meaning ten civilian deaths for every soldier death. This ought to be their Memorial Day too.
As Tim O'Brien wrote in The Things They Carried, “If at the end of a war story you feel uplifted, or if you feel that some small bit of rectitude has been salvaged from the larger waste, then you have been made the victim of a very old and terrible lie. There is no rectitude whatsoever. There is no virtue.”
The only exception I can think of to this is the tale of Desmond Doss, who joined the Army in WWII to be a combat medic, but refused to carry or use a weapon (his life was the subject of the 2004 documentary The Conscientious Objector, and the 2016 Oscar-winning film Hacksaw Ridge). Jesus said "Blessed are the peacemakers [not the war-makers]; for they shall be called the children of God." Matthew 5:9
I sometimes joke that I entered seminary as an evangelical Christian and departed as an agnostic Buddhist. It's an oversimplification, but in large part true. I think of myself as a Buddhist in the sense that I recognize the genius of the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path and the other practical teachings of the Buddha, as well as the transformative power of meditation, but I don't believe in rebirth or other speculative spiritual components of Buddhism. I think of myself as a Christian in the sense that I try to live my life according to the values and teachings of Jesus--particularly as laid out in the Sermon on the Mount--but I don't believe (any longer) in most of the tenets of the classic Christian creeds. In seminary I learned to appreciate things about all of the world's religions, but I also came to the conclusion that the most honest religious view is agnosticism; to simply be able to say "I don't really know."
Jesus was, I think, a remarkable person who made a significant impact during his life. He lived during a time of tremendous socio-political upheaval, under a repressive religious system that was under a corrupt and tyrannical kingdom that was under an oppressive empire (which also provided benefits like capability of long-distance travel, communications, preservation and transmission of philosophy, religious plurality, and relative peace).
Jesus's teachings, and the movement he led, cut like a laser through the multi-layered systems of oppression in which he found himself. He challenged their authority, pointed out their hypocrisy, and highlighted how badly they had missed the mark in their claim of being God's (or, the case of the Romans, the gods') authority on earth. He taught that every person--no matter their gender or race or illness or socio-economic status or profession or how "other" they are--is worthy of care and kindness, deserving of respect and fair treatment, beloved by God. Clearly, what he taught, and the way he taught it, was profound and powerful to the point of being viewed as a threat to the civic and religious authorities. So they conspired to have him arrested, tortured and killed. And that was the end of Jesus the man.
But the effect of his brief life was so great that people continued to tell stories about him. And, of course, those oral tales and eventual written accounts became more and more exaggerated and weighted with symbolism. In trying to express the significance of his life and teachings, people incorporated popular Mediterranean tropes: surely he was sent from God; like others sent from [the] God[s] in Greco-Roman-Egyption-Persian theologies, he was born of a virgin; he performed authoritative miracles over sickness and nature; yes he was killed, but like Osiris and Adonis and Castor and Romulus and Heracles (etc.) he rose from the dead; he ascended to Heaven, like other Greco-Roman god-men had purportedly ascended to Mount Olympus; and his death carried a sacrificial reconciliatory significance. Jesus gradually became linked to Greek philosophical concepts such as the Logos, and Neoplatonic cosmology, and Manichaen dualism.
Jesus became a mythic figure and an object of veneration (the same fate that happened to the Buddha). The man who told people to follow him (not worship him) became an object of worship. The man who criticized the hierarchical and puritanical Jewish temple religious system became the diety at the heart of a hierarchical and puritanical gentile religious system (with temples of its own). The man who challenged the empire was appropriated and transformed into a god who endorsed the empire.
I could go on, but suffice to say that studying and pondering things like this is how I became a Buddhist who doesn't subscribe to Buddhism and a Christian who doesn't subscribe to Christianity and an Agnostic who has opinions but freely admits "I don't really know."