Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Snark

I just heard a lively discussion on the Diane Rehm show on NPR. David Denby has published a book titled, "Snark: It's Mean, It's Personal, and It's Ruining our Conversation." While recognizing the virtues of satire and irony, among other forms of speech used as humor, he defines snarking (currently very popular) as insider language poking fun at "the other" that has particular meaning to the insiders, for the purpose of putting down. He gives value or credibility to some instances of snarking, if they represent specific positions.

I think he walks on thin ice, since the line between OK and Not-OK snarking is so thin. But his observation is very useful, and calls me to think honestly about how much my opinions on public issues, the news, politics are formed by this rather passive-aggressive, clever, entertaining style of not-saying.

What do you think? Is snark ruining our conversation? Are we losing our ability to use language effectively to say precisely what we mean?

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Awkward Reminder

I just watched the National Prayer Breakfast at the National Cathedral in Washington. I was excited to hear what Sharon Watkins, the Disciples' General Minister and President would preach to the new administration. Sharon is a good preacher, and it is a point of great pride for some of us that Obama chose her to preach because he once witnessed her authentic conciliatory nature. I thought she would have something good to say about unity, coming together despite our differences.

I tuned in to MSNBC, where I usually get my news, to watch the broadcast. To my dismay Chris Matthews talked over the broadcast, talking about the impossibility of religious people practicing inclusiveness because all religions declare that they have the only way, and then launching into a discussion of the Senate hearing on the Secretary of Treasury, while the ticker-tape messages at the bottom of the screen screamed our financial woes. Then to top it all off, MSNBC panned away from the service BEFORE the sermon, forcing me to look elsewhere for a live telecast.

I found it on FOX news. I never get my news from FOX -- I prefer a different spin than I get there. But you see, FOX panders to the audience they expect, their loyal audience, a more conservative audience. Unfortunately the popular belief is that all people of Christian faith fall into that audience. That is not true. Nor is it true that there are no Christians who practice inclusivity.

MSNBC, you missed an important opportunity today.

Thank you, FOX, for televising the entire service without interruption or commentary. Where can I find someone in the news media who understands that there really are people of faith who are progressive in their theology and social views and still care deeply about the integrity of worship and aren't embarrassed at encountering sacred mystery? Why does the media still try to force us into one of two camps: the religious right or the secular? Why is the media so far behind? FOX, you need to work at catching up as well. Look to the left a little and see what you might discover.

Better yet, what if we lost the spin altogether? What if the media tried straight reporting -- factual, unbiased? Is that possible?

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Summer's End

End of summer came and I returned from sabbatical. For a long time I haven't been able to bring myself to write here.

On August 25 my father died. He was ready. He lived well and fully and long - to 96. Our time together in the summer was rich, and such a gift. The sorrow of missing him is astonishing. Deep.

On some level I think we all knew it was coming, though he had rallied so many times, it was hard to know. In retrospect it seems that he was staying around to help all of us get ready, to finish things. And so we travelled the end of his life together.

I actually made four trips home to Missouri in the summer of 2008. Three of them were planned. I was home with my parents and my children - the extended family - for a month from mid-May to mid-June. Daddy was still showing energy and humor. He was walking without assistance to the mailbox every day. We had some great conversations, and recorded many of them.

When I returned in July he had declined considerably. He was using a walker on the rare occasions when he had the will to walk. His resilient spirit had lost its cheer. Watching and listening to my parents, I noted that the aggravation they each sometimes expressed was so integrated into their days that if either of them were gone, the other - the one left - would miss the nuisance terribly. I went to my room and wrote in my summer journal:

... leaves will fall at
summer's end
and sadness settle itself around you.
Days, growing shorter, will
seem longer.
Expected interruptions will not...
and life will take new shape
around the absence.