I pretty much ignore celebrity in most cases, and when I can't, my emotions usually range from mildly irritated to mildly jealous. For example, every time I see some dingbat pop singer in a casino or on TV, I get mildly annoyed. Whenever I see a pro poker player or a published author (or the equivalent) I get a little jealous. But then they go away, and out of sight, out of mind. However, there have been 2 times now in the last year when news of a celebrity had a relatively deep impact on me, entirely to my surprise
The first incident happened today. when I got home I read on my news banners that Jerry Falwell died, and I experienced a brief moment of elation, followed by a less intense feeling of satisfaction. These feelings perplexed me, and my first instinct was that I ought to feel guilty for feeling that way. But upon an evening's reflection, I really don't.
Many bad people have died in my lifetime, and it hasn't made me feel anything. On an intellectual level I can appreciate how the world is better off when a bad person dies, for example Saddam or Jeffrey Dahmer, but as far as affecting my emotions, zip. Zilch. Nothing.
But finding out the Falwell died made me feel something strong. It wasn't joy, but relief, and satisfaction, and dare I say, glee? It was confusing to me that I should feel this way about someone I didn't know personally, but I am beginning to work out why this, among all the famous deaths I've known of in my lifetime, should be the first to produce in me a feeling of satisfaction.
Falwell was a hatemonger. A bigot. A man of conviction whose convictions were wrong and who dedicated his life to spreading intolerance and fear and self-righteous indignation. He founded the Moral Majority, spearheaded the fundamentalist infiltration of the republican party, and to a large degree was responsible for the epidemic of christian fundamentalism taking root in our country. It is this more than anything which I hold against him, and which makes me feel the way I do. The US, the world is better off without him, and I don't feel bad for being glad he is dead.
The second incident affected me in a different way. When Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, died, I got really, really bummed out for days. I certainly didn't expect to react the way I did, but in hindsight, I think the reason it moved me and made me sad was because he was a man with a burning passion for life, not just his own, but all life, and I could totally identify with his enthusiasm. Coupled with that was they joy he brought to others through entertaining them as well as educating them. I really felt like the world was a lesser place with his passing, and it made me sad.
It is too bad that people like Falwell have the power to inspire millions to affect negative change on people who are different from them, while people like Steve Irwin are seen mostly only for their entertainment value.
6 comments:
I may not have agreed with his politics but I found him very attractive. I've always wanted to tell him and I'll never get that chance now.
My perfect day would begin with me waking up with the Reverend and fetching his corn starch to dab on the chaffing redness between his chins then fixing his breakfast.... oh I can't do it.
The Rev made a lot of money at being a hate monger and he smirked at the reasonable world all the way through it. He caused a lot of trouble for the non-christain world but I am certain he caused even for for the christians themselves. History will certainly show it to be true.
What do you mean history will show it to be true? I am frequently told all about what the Bible says and how Christains are, etc. the details of which often leave me baffled. I usally don't know who to be mad at when faced with that situation. Should I be mad at the dear reverend for spreading his "truth" and those who believe as he does? Or, should I be angry with the supposedly "enlighted" people who don't buy into the crap, but who still believe that is what the Bible says and how Christians are?
Sheesh, Tyson (and B), don't get me started.
After hearing this news yesterday, I found myself intensely curious about the afterlife, interestingly enough. Is Falwell, I wondered, somewhere he can finally see how wrong he was? Normally, I don't mind the idea that corporeal life is all we get, and after we die--ZAP!--we're just memories and molecules. But yesterday that thought seemed less comforting. The thought that Falwell might never grasp that his whole mission was misguided and, well, just plain WRONG and dehumanizing, and all that...it was a little too disheartening. Now, as much as it makes for a satisfying little fantasy, I'm not quite willing to believe in a fire-and-brimstone pit-of-eternal-punishment kind of thing. I prefer to imagine him sitting around in the Hindu version of the afterlife studying the mistakes of his mortal wrongitude for a few centuries. Then he'll get reincarnated as a slug.
What do you have against slugs, Erin? I'd rather he was reincarnated as a poor homosexual minority who just happens to have been born in a rich white Southern community, yet who is not gullible enough to buy into the local fanaticism and so has to live helplessly in fear and secrecy... Or maybe as low-caste, bedraggled pigeon.
I'm for the homosexual minority, Tyson, rather than the low-caste pigeon -- more justice that way, methinks. And I think he should look like a purse-toting Teletubby
A ridiculous article from the equally ridiculous Lubbock Avalanche Journal
Post a Comment