Civil Commotion

All of the news outlets are broadcasting video of two women confronting Jeff Flake in an elevator after he announced his intention to vote Brett Kavanaugh’s nomination to the Supreme Court out of the Judiciary Committee.

For what it’s worth, and for different reasons, Judge Kavanaugh and Professor Ford both left a bad taste in my mouth yesterday. Kavanaugh was the more irritating, but only marginally; neither one of them convinced me of anything except that I’m glad they’re not part of my life.

This confrontation with Senator Flake exemplifies the emotional turmoil these allegations have provoked, and the way in which they corrupt our ability to have a rational conversation or sound governance.

No: Senator Flake was not telling women they don’t matter, or that raping women is allright, however loud and overwrought the complainant. The only questions legitimately before Senator Flake, and every other Senator on the committee, is, Did Brett Kavanaugh commit the acts alleged by Professor Ford? (and a handful of others), and, if so, How does that bear on his fitness to serve on the Supreme Court?

Brett Kavanaugh should not become the proxy for every grievance, real and fanciful, that some particular woman has against some particular man.

There are sound reasons to oppose Kavanaugh’s nomination, and I hope they prevail. He has a too-expansive view of presidential power; a tendency to be too indulgent of corporate power; no apparent understanding that it is immigrants, minorities, outcasts, the out-of-step who have forced America, via the Supreme Court, to live up to its ideals; as he exhibited just yesterday, a susceptibility to conspiracy fabulism; and Donald Trump promised during the campaign to nominate only candidates who could be relied upon to overturn Roe.

Those are reasons enough to reject Kavanaugh.

Tapeworms? The St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, and the Holocaust? Donald Trump? The obliviousness is mind-boggling.

Four years ago today, I slipped on some leaves while working in the backyard with my son. I tried to catch myself with my left arm, and ended up breaking my arm and tearing my rotator cuff on the way down. Surgery was required to repair my arm; it is now held together with a metal plate held in place with 13-screws.

So: I had a broken arm, screws in the bone of the broken arm, and a torn rotator cuff. It was 6-weeks of oppressive, non-stop pain that didn’t, wouldn’t, go away. For some reason, my body chemistry just doesn’t respond as it is supposed to respond to opioids.

Like most people who have never had a significant injury, I assumed it would hurt for a while and then it would be all better — like a bad cut or bruise. No. You must do the physical therapy, or you’re going to be really sorry. Here is why: Altogether, more than 20-muscles are implicated in the movement of your arm. If one of the large ones is out of use, the other muscles have to pick-up the shortfall, pushing or pulling a little harder than usual even if the arm is at rest (ΣF_x,y,z = ΣM_x,y,z = 0). If the injured muscle — especially a strong, important one — is allowed to heal in a slack state, and all of the other muscles are allowed to remain in atypical compression or tension, they will remain that way. This results in misalignment of the ball at the end of the arm bone in the shoulder socket — and a lifetime of pain.

I mention this because I approached physical therapy with skepticism, not understanding why it was needed, and I’ve learned since then that lots of people resist going to a physical therapist. I was in such pain the first few irritable visits that, to this day, I don’t know whether the therapist explained all this to me and I just didn’t understand it, or if I figured it out myself browsing the Internet to understand how my arm and shoulder work together, but once I did understand it I became obsessive about following the prescribed routines and exercises.

BONUS: Since a portion of my pain was related to atypical compression and tension of the muscles, and the corresponding misalignment of the ball and socket in my shoulder, the physical therapy actually had the effect of relieving — albeit only temporarily, though for progressively longer periods of time — some of the pain.

I have today almost a full range of motion in my arm; there is a slight hitch at the very top of the arc if I try to point my arm straight up. That’s the plate in my arm bumping into the shoulder bone, so I’m just going to have to live with that very modest loss of motion. There is occasionally some dull, not-serious discomfort in that shoulder, a barely noticeable reminder of the accident. I benefited a great deal from physical therapy, and if you injure yourself and the doctor prescribes it, you should suck-up the aggravation and take the advice.

I have to admit to mixed reactions at the sight of delegates to the United Nations laughing at the Buffoon-in-Chief. Donald Trump is a national embarrassment, and it pleases me to see his self-aggrandizing braggadocio treated with disdain.

But, then … that’s the home team that’s getting laughed at, and I don’t like that at all.

Clearly, the Congress doesn’t intend to do its plain duty. Vote in November, then, for no less than the annihilation of the Republican Party.

I was passing by a local Southern Baptist church a while back and noticed they’re promoting themselves as a place where “EVERYBODY is welcome,” with the emphasis in the original. I wondered what that was all about, because SBC churches are disfellowshipped (thrown out of the club) if they call a gay or lesbian pastor, install a gay in any position of responsibility, or allows gays into membership.

Gays are allowed to sit in the pews on Sunday morning, however, if they’re inconspicuous, and it turns out that’s all that “EVERYBODY is welcome” means.

This is the new normal (more on that in in a minute) so chances are the newer and hipper churches in your town that advertise on the busses (“finally, a church for young professionals!”) — hide their policies. They may even tell the inquiring gay couple, “Of course you’re welcome!” while failing to inform them that, in the eyes of the church, their relationship is something to repent of. The unsuspecting couple enjoys the awesome culturally-current church, falls in love with the people. A year or two later they learn of the polices that discriminate against them — the age-old bait & switch. I have heard such stories over and over from credible witnesses. Often the effects are devastating (more on that too).

And here’s the thing: the better the church is — with engaging worship, relevant sermons, great kids programming, wonderful outreach — the more likely it is that the church will hide its policies. That means the LGBTQ+ people who come into the church’s spiritual orbit feel more connected when the other shoe drops … and the psychological harm is even greater. So it’s the good churches you have to look out for — not the lame, boring ones.

So gays can attend, but not … belong.

Ho-hum, it is their club, and they’re only sort of lying, et cetera, et cetera.

But why go to church at all? The Christian narrative is incontestably false, Christian teachings are degrading and demand self-abasement, and Christian ethics are destructive cult-ethics. Take your dog for a walk in the park, instead, on Sunday morning. A dog is better companionship than some yahoo eager to shove a Jack Chick tract in your hands and, if you believe in supernatural beings, there’s no reason you can’t encounter them as you listen to the birds chirp and Fido sniffs around.