Fun with Ann Coulter

If you’ve been paying attention to the news this week, you’re well aware of the frenzy over Ann Coulter, the controversial American author and polemicist (a person who argues in opposition to another) known for her right-wing views against liberals, feminists, environmentalists and non-Christians.

Mayhem broke out when she came to the University of Ottawa for a speaking engagement and the event had to be cancelled. A large contingent of protesters made it impossible for her to proceed due to safety concerns. The incident has given rise to public discussion about freedom of speech in this country and human rights concerns. It has also created a fabulous amount of press for an otherwise uninspiring American media agitator.

Curious about this woman after the Ottawa hoopla, I’ve done a little research. I’d seen her before on television and perhaps come across her books at the bookstores, but was never particularly drawn to her bombastic approach. Now that I’ve seen a few interview clips, including interviews with Katie Couric, Matt Lauer, and Donny Deutsch, I know why she has not been on my radar.

Articulate, attractive, aggressive and presumably intelligent, she has the attributes of a compelling media personality. Yet what comes out of her mouth is astonishing. She may have the gift of gab, but the gab is certainly not gifted. Not to my mind, nor, seemingly, to her interviewers’ minds.

For example, on CNBC’s “The Big Idea” Ann Coulter tells host Donny Deutsch (who is Jewish) that “Christians are perfected Jews.” As you can imagine, Donny Deutsch took great offense. See the clip on YouTube for some head-shaking entertainment: Ann Coulter interview with Donny Deutsch

I wonder what Jesus Christ would say to the comment given that he himself was a Jew. I also wonder what planet this woman is living on. She wants to convert the entire world to Christianity yet she doesn’t seem to understand the fundamental teachings of Christianity such as “Love thy neighbour as thyself” and “Do unto others as you would have done to yourself.” Her inflammatory remarks may be attention-grabbing and discussion-provoking, but they can also be as red-neck ignorant as you’ve ever heard.

Jesus, who according to the Gospels promoted peace and love, would likely take umbrage with Coulter’s interpretation. In the interview she awkwardly and condescendingly tries to explain how it is that Christians are 'perfected Jews' and that Jews should not be offended by this fact. In less than one minute she made at least thirteen million enemies, not to mention the Christians and Muslims who consider her ludicrous.

Maybe Coulter should read the Bible, where she might learn that Jesus not only died for the sins of humanity, but that he epitomized “perfection.” So how can Jews be perfected, if Jesus, a Jew, is himself perfect? Perhaps Christians are imperfect Jews.

Furthermore, Jesus disapproved of self-righteous spirituality, and preached tolerance and inclusiveness. Basic knowledge of the New Testament should confirm this.

The above is but a tiny fraction of Coulter’s sensational perspective on life, religion and politics. She has no shame and spares no mercy. Should she be muzzled? That is the big question in the media this week. How far does freedom of speech go? How much seditious rhetoric should be tolerated?

This can be a fuzzy question. Inciting violence and defying human rights are against the law, but provoking anger, disparaging others, and saying outrageously ignorant things are not. Ann Coulter should not be censored as far as I’m concerned because she hasn’t broken the law. I think she’s on a self-destructive path, anyway; one day the spotlight will dim, the platform will disappear and she’ll have lots of time to reflect.

Sadly, it won’t happen until the media (and bloggers like me) stop giving her air time.

On Vacation!

Back next week...

All you Need is Love...and Friendships

I didn’t write this (and I have no idea who did), but I like what it says and I think it’s worth sharing:

People [and pets] come into your life for a REASON, a SEASON, or a LIFETIME.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally, or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend, and they are! They are there for the reason you need them to be.

Then without any wrong doing on your part, or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.

What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered. And now it is time to move on.

When people come into your life for a SEASON, it may be because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn. They bring you an experience of peace, or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it! It is real...but only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons: things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person, and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

Anonymous

In the spirit of friendship and love, take a look at this video clip and reflect on your own relationships, past and present:  All you Need is Love.  Enjoy!

Carla

What not to Wear

Last week, controversy arose in Quebec regarding a Muslim woman from Egypt, who expected her French language class for new immigrants to make special accommodations for her. Dressed in full niqab with only slits for her eyes, she was not able to fully participate in the learning. The instructor’s approach involved helping students with pronunciation by watching the movements of their mouths; when asked to remove the veil covering her mouth, the woman refused.

She insisted on giving her presentations from the back of the classroom (with her back to the class) in order to avoid visual contact with the three male students in the room. She also asked the men to move away from her when they were too close for her comfort. When there were one-on-one exercises, she would only work with the female instructor.

Eventually, the school and the Quebec government had had enough. The woman was given the ultimatum to remove the veil covering her mouth to expose her face, or leave. She quit. Then she launched a human-rights complaint against the province.

She says that she wears the veil for religious reasons and is being treated unfairly. The province says that when a person receives public services, they must do it with their face uncovered. A barrier on the face inhibits integration.

The woman is deeply offended. She says her right to religious freedom has been violated.

This kind of debate is not new in our country and certainly not in the province of Ontario. Toronto is one of the most multi-cultural cities in the world, with more languages spoken here than anywhere else. We welcome immigrants and we have much to gain from having such a diverse population. We learn about different customs and traditions, different viewpoints, and different societies. Despite cultural and religious differences, new immigrants are just like us in many ways; they care about similar things: their faith, family, community, the environment, health, and education. They enrich our communities and teach us tolerance.

However...they are guests in this country and they are privileged to be here. As are the rest of us—descendants of past immigrants. Canada is arguably the best country in the world to live in. It is still the land of opportunity and probably offers the greatest future for any immigrant today. Not to say that it is easy to start fresh in a new country. My great-grandparents, my grandparents, and my parents immigrated to Canada from Hungary after the Second World War and they had their share of tribulation.

Leaving their much loved homeland behind, with no knowledge of French or English, they had to rebuild their lives from scratch. Did they ever demand special privileges to accommodate their customs? Of course not. They were grateful to be here and were determined to integrate as quickly as possible.

They did what they needed to do—learned the language, got menial jobs to start with (although they were all professionals back in Hungary), and developed friendships with local people. Naturally they were homesick and missed their old pre-war life, and they had to adjust to strange new things like Wonderbread, which my grandmother thought tasted like paper.

They never took this country for granted and they appreciated the generosity and gracious welcome extended to them. Race and religion may not have been issues, but they still had many challenges to overcome.

Canada is a secular nation that accommodates and tolerates private religious practices of all kinds. But when these customs interfere with public affairs and infringe on the rights of others, isn’t it taking the privilege too far?

A few years ago, John Tory lost his run for premier of Ontario because he was advocating public funding for private religion-based schools. Ontarians did not jump onto his platform. Why? Because we don’t believe in promoting segregation. We respect all peaceful religions and we understand the need to maintain a cultural identity, but there is a limit. If immigrants do not want to be shut out by their newfound home, then likewise, they should not shut out those who have welcomed them into their fold, including male teachers, male students and any other person who offers goodwill. The Egyptian woman has three children; what are their chances of assimilating?

If the tables were turned and a Western woman was to emigrate to the Middle East, how would she be treated?

Here is an excerpt from a piece by contributing editor of Vanity Fair, Judy Bachrach, from her article Twice Branded: Western Women in Muslim Lands:

Western women who find themselves in the Middle East come in for their own fair share of daily insults, owing to their double deficit as women and foreigners. Every step outside the home or hotel is an invitation to a carefully directed barrage of verbal assaults, their components familiar and unvarying: vulgar and offensive remarks, leers and snickers, the occasional shove, all accompanied by grins of triumph.

Furthermore, Bachrach had this to say about her own experience in Egypt:

Thus it was that my Egyptian experience marked the only time in my life when the acquisition of the rudiments of a foreign language, far from making life more comfortable, actually ignited rage. The more Arabic we learned, the more xenophobic and sexually explicit trash talk we understood. There was a lot of it around (except, significantly, when we were escorted by our husbands).

Perhaps the Egyptian woman should reconsider her complaint, and think twice about how she has been treated in Canada. If she still feels slighted, she can always go back to her own country, where women have few, if any, rights at all.

The Pleasure of Flying

Flying isn’t what it used to be. Anyone who has flown a lot knows this. Not only is flying in economy class like taking the Greyhound bus, but the added airport security measures, and the often rude and disgruntled airline staff, can make the experience most unpleasant.

Last week I flew to Florida on Delta Airlines for a short getaway with my sister, to visit my parents who winter down south. I’ve done this trip for years, sometimes flying out of Toronto Pearson International, or out of Buffalo, or even out of Detroit. I fly direct (an easy 3 hour flight), or connect to another flight somewhere in the US. I’ve flown on many different airlines and have been stuck with booked tickets on airlines that suddenly went bankrupt (Canada 3000, Jetsgo); I’ve missed flights because of bad traffic on route to the airport; and I’ve been redirected because of cancelled flights.

My main objective when flying is this: get to my destination safely, and as close to the planned arrival time as possible. But when you fly, anything can happen. We’ve all got stories that could top the next person’s!

My story today is not a great dramatic tale, but a rant. A rant about inept check-in staff, airline mismanagement and inefficient security measures.

It all started with a glitch in Delta’s computer system, which prevented me from checking in on-line. (It turned out that a clerical person had typed my name wrong, and because my confirmation number and my name did not match when I entered them, I couldn’t continue).

Some carriers, including Delta, are now charging $50 for checked baggage and since I was only going away for a few days, I decided to bring just a carry-on. This cost is not apparent when booking your ticket, which is misleading and kind of sneaky. I reviewed the baggage rules on the Delta website:

Carry-on Baggage

All Delta passengers are allowed one carry-on bag and one personal item that meet the criteria below.

Your bag must:

• Not exceed 45 inches (length + width + height), or 115 cm.
• Fit easily in our SizeCheck® unit (approximately 22"x14"x9", or 56x36x23 cm).
• Fit in an overhead bin or underneath the seat in front of you.

Personal Items

You're allowed one personal item from this sample list:
Purses, briefcases, camera cases, and diaper bags
Laptop computers (can’t be checked and must be carried on)
Items of a similar or smaller size to those above

Ok. I would bring one small suitcase and one personal item (a small over-shoulder bag about the size of a diaper bag).

I get to the airport well in advance of the flight, wait in the check-in line for half an hour to get my boarding pass, and then the lady at the counter tells me that I have to check my carry-on and pay for it.

“But why?” I ask. “I’m allowed one carry-on and this bag is within the size restrictions.” (I’d measured it at home and it was well within the limit).

“Because you can’t have two carry-on bags,” she says. “It’s a matter of security.”

I point to the sign, which is displayed near the check-in counter. “Look, it says right there that you can have two pieces. One carry-on bag and one personal item that is similar to the size of a diaper bag or a laptop. My bag is smaller than either of those.” My tone is measured and polite.

She looks at me with contempt. “Well, that isn’t a laptop or a diaper bag, is it?”

“No, but it could be a diaper bag.”

“Where’s your baby? You can only use a diaper bag, if you have a baby.”

Now I’m getting annoyed. “My baby is at home.”

“You don’t have a baby,” she snorts.

“Look. I don’t want to check my bag. I reviewed the requirements before I came and I packed accordingly.”

The woman shakes her head. “I don’t make the security rules. There’s no point arguing with me.”

The line-up is huge and there are only two Delta check-in employees at the counter. The woman doesn’t seem to care. I open my carry-on suitcase and stuff my shoulder bag inside. I can barely do up the zipper and now the suitcase is larger than the size allowance.

“There, now I have only one bag. Will that do?”

She shrugs. “I guess so.”

I get my boarding pass and proceed to the first security check. The guy looks at my suitcase and shakes his head. “That bag is too big for a carry-on. You’ll have to check it.”

“What if I remove some things?” I ask.

“You can try,” he says.

I take out the shoulder bag and zip up the suitcase. “That’s better,” he says, and waves me on.

I proceed to US customs and wait in line for almost an hour because of the shortage of customs officials.

Next, I move on to security, where they make me take off my shoes, my jacket, my belt, my hair-band and my necklace. No problem. This I get. It’s part of the deal these days. I can finally go to my gate (which happens to be at the other end of the airport), and as I walk, I pass a long corridor of tables where people have been diverted for baggage inspections. There are about fifty security workers in the area, but only a dozen are occupied. The rest are standing idle, chatting and laughing with one another. All that’s missing is a beer or a wine glass in their hands.

When I return from my trip I hear on CBC that the Federal Government is going to increase taxes on airline tickets to pay for the additional airport security. I feel so much safer, don’t you?

For more uninspiring tales of “security mayhem,” see Margaret Wente’s great Globe and Mail piece, Security Theatre for the Absurd.

A Life Remembered

There are friendships that last forever, and others that come and go. Some people touch our lives and then disappear. They might get too busy, move away or pass away. But friends who have inspired us in some special way will never leave our hearts.

I once had a friend (a dear old friend of my parents) whom I knew for most of my life. I’m only familiar with pieces of her life story, and my visits with her were sporadic over the years; but since her passing last February, she lingers in my heart and mind as a wise, warm, and constant presence.

Louise (Loulou) was born in Arvida, Quebec in 1942, the daughter of devout Catholic French-Canadian parents. Her father was a lawyer and her mother, a strong matriarch, stayed home to raise their brood of seven children. When Louise was eighteen, she set her sights on becoming a nun. Highly intelligent and ideologically driven, she thought she knew exactly what she wanted.

Then George came along.

George, a young Hungarian immigrant and my parents’ great friend, had discovered Louise while dating her older sister. His passions soon moved on to Louise (which was fine with her sister) and a friendship developed. Thirteen years her senior and more than ready to settle down, George had some work to do to win her heart. Strong-willed and determined to follow her calling, this spirited young woman was not the best marriage candidate. But George was not to be deterred.

Commuting regularly on weekends from Montreal to Arvida, George continued his pursuit, determined to win her over. When he finally declared his love, Louise rejected him. He was crushed.

My parents advised him to stop the visits for a while and give Louise some space. But he couldn’t stay away. He went to Arvida again using the excuse of visiting her family, with whom he had developed a warm relationship. When Louise caught sight of him walking down the street one day, she called out his name and swooned (like a scene from the movies!).

From that moment, her life changed directions. They married and then moved to a small university town in Germany, where George was transferred with his job. Louise immersed herself in learning the language and starting a family. Within a few years, the couple had four children. As much as Louise loved being a mother, she wanted more. A feminist without really knowing it, she began to study psychology at the University of Gottingen. She earned her degree and then went on to do her masters. For a small town French-Canadian girl who didn’t speak a word of German when she first came to the country, Louise had quickly found her ground.

The family eventually moved to California and later, to Montreal. There, Louise built her psychology practice and continued raising her family, then teens in high school. She took up painting, played tennis, studied alternative and new age religions, sailed around the world for two years with her husband, and hosted a radio show answering call-in questions about life’s problems.

This was a very busy lady—yet never too busy to have us stay if we were visiting Montreal, or to invite us for dinner if we were passing through. She loved to laugh and to engage in deep conversation. She had strong opinions and was keen to share them. Her affectionate hugs were as natural as her heartfelt tears. She was sincerely interested in what you said and listened with intensity.

When speaking to Louise, she’d make you feel that what you were saying was terribly important. I could be talking about the weather, my children, or a personal problem, but whatever the subject, nothing else mattered at that moment and every word seemed to interest her.

At some stage in her life, Louise lost her faith in God. Unfortunately, I never had the conversation with her to find out why. But I know she was a deeply spiritual person who meditated daily, read many books by enlightened spiritual leaders, and practiced Eckhart Tolle’s philosophy of living in the present moment (as described in his book The Power of Now).

Two years ago, after fighting a valiant battle with cancer, her beloved husband George passed away. At his funeral Louise was beautifully collected and profoundly heartbroken. Having been together for almost fifty years and weathering so much together, she could hardly imagine a life without him. Unwell herself, Louise’s own struggle with follicular lymphoma, which had been in remission, soon became her new challenge.

When I sent her a letter conveying my concern (and my lament that what was happening to her was unfair) she immediately wrote back, despite suffering great pain and knowing that her end was near.

Her wise, caring words were a valuable gift. This is what she said:

Carla, nothing is unfair that befalls us. At least that's the way I see it. Human behavior can be unfair, but what life serves us is just that, life. George and I always believed in living life fully. That means to accept it and make the best of what it brings us. Not always easy, I grant you. But I know this positive attitude has helped me throughout my life and does so in facing this new challenge.

I'm thinking of you too, knowing that you are facing challenges of a different kind. Tolle would tell you not to lose time and energy worrying, to live in the present moment, face this challenge with determination and creativity. Set your goals and make them so real in your heart and mind that they will become reality. It works for me.

Louise died a few months later, at the much too young age of 67.

One way we can know for sure that a spirit never dies is by the powerful impact left on the people it has touched. Louise’s four fantastic children and much loved grandchildren, her relatives, her multitude of friends, and the folks she met along her life journey, are all graced with her eternal presence. I am grateful to be among the crowd.

Note: I was going to write about the Olympics today but when I sat down at the computer, thoughts of Louise drifted into my mind. When I checked my calendar after writing this article, I found that her funeral was exactly a year ago. The spirit works in interesting ways...

Valentine Blues

Valentine’s Day can be a dismal occasion. Those without love interests or partners are apt to want to crawl under a rock or watch something mindless on TV to avoid exposure to the barrage of sentimental fluff. Just about every unattached person I know abhors Valentine’s Day. The last thing people need when they’re single (and wishing they weren’t) is a blatant reminder of that fact.

Those who are in a relationship should celebrate their love on a regular basis. Do they really need to be prompted by the marketplace to proclaim their feelings for each other? The heart should be moved to action spontaneously, not by a commercially driven love-affirming day.

The most prevalent purchase for Val-Day is not flowers, chocolates or jewelry, but a card. Millions of North Americans will spend a fortune on a paper product with pretty pictures and eloquent words, written by aspiring poets and Hallmark employees.

If we all donated the cash we spent on cards to places like Haiti, Africa, or war-torn nations, we could make a difference in peoples’ lives. But we don’t think that way because retailers and advertisers know how to manipulate us. They inundate us immediately after the Christmas holidays with displays of red and pink Valentine paraphernalia. Chocolates, cute plush toys, heart-shaped candies, and rows upon rows of sentimental cards abound.

In my house, our kids think Valentine’s Day is about them, which is fine with us; they think we should have a special dinner and that they should be the center of attention. It all started when I made heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast when they were toddlers, and put packets of heart-shaped treats by their place settings.

This year we will have twelve people over for dinner on Valentine’s Day, including relatives and friends. I might decorate the table with red napkins and candy hearts, but that’s about it. No mush, no gush and no sentimental drivel.

Does that mean I’m a humbug, with no time to ruminate about love? Not at all. I think about love a lot, but Valentine’s Day is not the inspiration.

For physical survival we need air, water, good nutrition and exercise, but to sustain our souls we need love. Just about everything we do in life is subconsciously or consciously motivated by love, no matter what stage or age we’re at. People are almost always either trying to find love, keep love, nurture love or recover from lost love.

Love is one of those tenuous things that can elude us if we take it for granted. And it mustn’t be a one way street. Finding the right balance of giving and receiving can be tricky; loving too much without reciprocation is painful; being loved without sharing the sentiment can provoke feelings of guilt and emptiness.

We seek and we seek until we find a fulfilling, soulful, loving partnership. Once we find it we must nurture it in order to retain it. Life without love can be hollow and joyless. With love we can overcome and withstand so much. It is a sanctuary for our soul, stimulation for our minds, and power for our bodies.

Why do couples end marriages that were once rooted in love? Why do parents subject their children to the heartache of divorce? Because a loveless marriage is unbearable. “The best thing parents can do for their children is to love each other,” a psychologist friend once told me. But if that’s no longer possible, the next best thing they can do for their children is to treat their exes with respect and civility.

Love is sacred and must be cherished and protected; it is fragile and must be treated with precious care; it is powerful and must be honoured and revered. Love between two people bolsters humanity. It is the thing that fuels our families, our communities, our nations, and our world. People who experience great love do great things. Those who do great things without love are to be especially congratulated, because life is so much harder without it.

A broken heart can breed cynicism and wariness. Yet slowly but surely, love can creep back in and mend one's darkened spirit. A transformed heart is a renewed life. With love, anything is possible.

But it’s not all about romance. It’s about relationships. And that’s why I think Valentine’s Day is for the birds.

If we’re going to have a day to celebrate love then let’s call it something else— Humanity Day or something like that—an inclusive holiday encompassing all loving relationships.

And if you don’t have a partner, don’t let Valentine’s Day bring you down. Rejoice with your family and friends, for love of any kind is worthy of a celebration.