Where’s the Outrage?

Churches are burning in West Central Alabama, and there has yet to be any real outrage from national commentators, columnists and the usual hate-crime, rage mongers.

Five Baptist churches were torched early Friday. Four more went up in flames today. How many more have to be attacked before somebody somewhere considers these arsons to be hate crimes against Christians – and specifically Baptists?

That said, the government is investigating the possibility of civil rights discrimination against religious institutions. But where are the Jesse Jacksons, the Al Sharptons, the leagues against this and that and especially the mainstream media opinion people?

A check of Internet discussion lists reveals that most opinions about the church arsons center around the shortcomings of Christians, the same old jump-to-judgments about Southerners, and an astonishing number of posts suggesting that somehow the congregations deserved it.

Meanwhile, the Christian congregations – both black and white – have been praying for the perpetrators.

Still, every open-minded person in this country must be wondering what if?

What if -- instead of both black and white Baptist churches – the arsonist/arsonists had burned:

 Nine black Baptist churches
 Nine gay/lesbian bars
 Nine Muslim mosques
 Nine Jewish synagogues
 Nine science laboratories
 Nine biology textbooks
 Nine abortion clinics
 Nine copies of the Koran

 Oh, the outrage! It would be loud and furious.

Strike another blow for freedom of speech.

In fact, strike a blow for the freedom to be anonymously annoying.

Annoying someone via the Internet is now a federal crime. According to a column by CNET News.com's Declan McCullagh, a new federal law now prohibits "...posting annoying Web messages or sending annoying e-mail messages without disclosing your true identity."

He writes that it's okay to flame somebody, but you have to reveal your real identity. The law is part of the Violence Against Women and Department of Justice Reauthorization Act, and violators can be heavily fined and spend two years in prison.

For once, I might actually agree with the ACLU on this. "The use of the word 'annoy' is particularly problematic," says Marv Johnson, legislative counsel for the American Civil Liberties Union. "What's annoying to one person may not be annoying to someone else."

"Whoever...utilizes any device or software that can be used to originate telecommunications or other types of communications that are transmitted, in whole or in part, by the Internet... without disclosing his identity and with intent to annoy, abuse, threaten, or harass any person...who receives the communications...shall be fined under title 18 or imprisoned not more than two years, or both."

While the intent is to prevent cyberstalking, particularly of women, an earlier version of the bill made a lot more sense. It's language prohibited only the use of an "interactive computer service" to cause someone "substantial emotional harm."

"Substantial emotional harm" is substantially more serious and harder to prove than simple anonymous annoyance. There are a few Blogstream bloggers who have "annoyed" me. I simply deleted their comment or ceased communication. Even Mouse One can be "annoying" at times, depending upon your definition of ANNOY. The word means "to bother, vex, make angry." It can also mean "to harm or injure," but most every blog I have read has at some time bothered, vexed and angered me. And thank God for that! (Uh,oh!. I used the word "God." Who have I annoyed?) Part of the purpose of a blog or website is to share different ideas. It's quite a liberal idea and is a freedom this country can't survive without.

McCullagh correctly states that "The First Amendment protects our right to write something that annoys someone else. It even shields our right to do it anonymously. U.S. Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas defended this principle magnificently in a 1995 case involving an Ohio woman who was punished for distributing anonymous political pamphlets."

Mouse One met the World in freshman English Composition. As she settled into class for what should have been an extension in the mechanics of language and expression, she instead encountered revolution.

It was the era of Vietnam, bellbottom jeans, bare midriffs, incense and The Streak. Girls rolled their hair on orange juice cans, and guys sported plaid pants and white ties. The South was despised north of the Mason-Dixon Line, and the air of Yankee superiority was met with an influx of Confederate flags and car tags. Integration was well under way, but the culture shock was well, a shock. A girl on my dorm floor had won a Miss Black Something or Other title and kept her crown on display. Her roommate built a shrine in their room to her cousin. The cousin, she explained, had been killed by a white driver during a demonstration. Meanwhile, some students who couldn’t stand to be associated with The South, attempted to prove their liberalness by perming their hair into Afro styles, throwing away their bras and acquiring a sailor’s vocabulary.

But getting back to English, our plump professor with the blue-white hair could have been everybody’s grandma. Her modest paisley attire denoted good taste. Her dialect was distinctly aristocratic, and her smile was as pleasant as the taste of sweet tea with a twist of lemon. She complimented my sample paragraphs, and the course began with great promise.

So, The Mouse wasn’t too worried about English composition. Her high school teachers had been among the best anywhere. One teacher had even taught in that great, celebrated state of California! He insisted upon perfection. Any mistake – even a manuscript error such as crossing through a word written in ink – had to be repaired on a correction sheet. Some students spent days working on endless correction sheets.

We were also taught that profanities were not proper English. All a profanity showed, the teachers said, was poor vocabulary. Writers who resorted to the dungeon of four-letter words just proved how little they knew the English language. There were thousands of adjectives, adverbs and synonyms that filled dictionaries, thesauruses and vocabulary builders, waiting to be chosen for the perfect fit. And so, we learned spelling words and vocabulary until the day we graduated. Of course, there were some students who tested the rule, and they got to spend their snack break, lunch period or study hall in a reading and vocabulary improvement course. That about ended all bad words in compositions.

Then came college. I carried along my Webster’s Dictionary, Roget’s Thesaurus and synonym books and expected to advance even further in written expression.

But along came the Profanity Brigade. The “brigade” consisted of three female students who freely used four-letter words and more, not only in their compositions but also during class discussion. And the professor – “everybody’s grandma” who appeared ready to pass around cookies and milk -- encouraged them! The professor told the class that these students were unafraid to express how they really felt!

One among The Brigade prepared the rest of us just prior to a presentation. She was about to read her composition aloud when she warned, “All of you who still have virgin ears might want to cover them before I start reading.” Those were her exact words, and I didn’t cover my ears, but after hearing her read, I wish I had.

After a couple of years, Mouse One transferred to a university and took another course in composition. Her professor discouraged the use of shock and awe language, and The Mouse learned more about grammar and style in that course than in all the rest combined. But The Mouse did relent to the effectiveness of the rare four-letter expletive. The conclusion of Gone With the Wind just wouldn’t be the same without the strength of utter apathy in Rhett’s famous last words to Scarlett: “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

That was the message of the main speaker at a Martin Luther King Jr. birthday anniversary today.

The theme is common. Black preachers and politicians have used it for the past 40-plus years. But this time, the speaker was a white guy. Not only that, he was born into a prominent family in the same town once active in the Civil Rights Movement. He was invited by the black organization that sponsored the event, and he was elected to a local office because of crossover voting. The black community, which historically supports only black candidates, voted out the black incumbent and elected the white guy.

Why? They trusted him. After forty years of fighting for black-controlled government, they got the power and came full circle and voted for the person they believed would do the best job. And by the way, in case you are wondering, this white guy is not the stereotypical, good-old boy redneck Southerner. He’s a committed Christian who earned the position because of his professional and personal integrity as well as his love for all people. Likewise, in the same election, significant numbers of whites voted for a black candidate over the white one. Ten years ago, it would never have happened.

So, the white-guy speaker spoke to an audience of hundreds about the number 40. The number 40 is biblically important. God caused the rain to fall forty days and forty nights in the Great Flood. The Israelites, because of their unbelief that they could secure the Promised Land, wandered in the wilderness for forty years. Likewise, this southern community has struggled for forty years.

In 1965, the speaker noted, “The Lord saw the repression and injustice, and the Lord raised up a Moses, Martin Luther King Jr.” In doing so, the black race left Egypt, but the community chose to wander. Yet, while the different cultures and political groups fought for control, the Promised Land still beckoned. Forty years, he said, has always been a period of probation in The Bible. It has been a time that has to pass for something else to happen.

And in 2005, he suggested, the town saw change. Local leaders from different backgrounds and political parties came together to work for the welfare of all. They worked together in civic organizations, churches, prayer groups, social clubs and economic development.

Then one day, as local leaders were gathered in an office for prayer before the work day began, a call came from halfway around the earth. Being in prayer, they almost didn't answer the phone. But they did, and the call was from an international company that was interested in their community. It needed to locate immediately. Within a few months, the company was in place offering much needed, well-paying jobs. Other companies came, and others expanded, and still others are considering the town.

There is still much work to be done, but like the single flower in the cold wasteland of Narnia, “I see the signs, I see the flower,” the speaker said. Where does the town go from here? “Just like the people of Israel, we determine our direction. The Lord didn’t just give it (the Promised Land) to them. They had to go in and take it. We have to go in and take the Promised Land.”

Taking that treasure, he continued, means having a teachable spirit, acknowledging past injustices, losing the negative attitudes and gaining the positive ones.

Sounds like that town has just found its Joshua.