Merry Christmas

December 15, 2007

Dear Friends and Family,

As you read this, Frannie and I will undoubtedly be reveling in our newfound freedom from all things school. No more readings, no more exams, and no more projects, which means no more headaches, no more anxiety, and no more “pressure in the chest,” as Frannie puts it. We officially graduate this December, and perhaps have already received our diplomas in the mail by the time this letter reaches you. Frannie will have graduated with a degree in Business Administration with an emphasis in Marketing and Finance, and I will have graduated with a degree in Film and Television Production from USC’s School of Cinematic Arts (with a minor in Russian Area Studies).

In regards to my degree, many of you may be experiencing what Bill Murray experienced when his romantic interest in Groundhog Day told him about her studies in 19th century French Poetry. “What a waste of time!” he blurted out. “I mean…for someone else that would be an incredible waste of time…it was so bold of you to choose that…” Let me say that your feelings are shared even by me on occasion (and by Frannie more occasionally), but the fact is we’re too deep in debt to turn back now. So we will carry on, eating Top Ramen noodles and bologna sandwiches until that first big deal comes along.

Speaking of deals, I recently finished the third draft of a screenplay I was commissioned to write for a couple independent producers. They are now “shopping” this latest version around town to different players in the industry. They hope to sign a director in the next couple weeks and then present the project to financiers in January and February. If all goes well, we hope to be shooting the film in the summer of ’08! Until then, we’ll continue to eat our noodles and bologna!

In addition to school and the screenplay, I’ve been interning at WhiteLight Entertainment, an independent production company started by Gerald R. Molen, the former President of Production at Dreamworks, and former Producer for Steven Spielberg (Schindler’s List, Jurassic Park, Minority Report, and others). After reading countless scripts and writing up reports on how they can make the scripts better, answering phones and doing other odd jobs, the people in charge have seen fit to make me an official part of the company come January. Bye-bye noodles and bologna!

Thanks to Frannie’s practical degree in Business, she has been able to work at ING Direct, a relatively new online bank, while I pursue the film thing. So yes, she has been bringing home the bacon while I sit at home eating it, occasionally taking a break to sip some orange juice (which she has also paid for) and write a few pages. For three months in a row, Frannie has been one of the top sales reps in California, pulling in millions, if not billions and trillions of dollars for the company, for which she is rewarded the best parking spot on the lot (which remains empty, because she takes the bus to work).


With all that’s on the horizon, all the potential for incredible success (and failure), through the busy schedules and mounting deadlines, Frannie and I have never been happier! All the madness seems to subside the moment one of us walks in the door.

And the effect has been amplified this Christmas season, when, upon entering the apartment, not only are we greeted by the one we love, but also by bright, colored Christmas lights and the soothing voice of James Taylor singing “Go Tell it on the Mountain.” There’s simply an indescribable feeling of peace and joy that comes with the Christmas season, when the music, the decorations, the films, the symbols and smells, sights and sounds, turn our thoughts to the Babe of Bethlehem.

In all that's going on in the world, it's wonderful to know that Jesus Christ was born! May His Spirit fill your homes with peace and your hearts with joy. And may we spread the joy and peace to those around us!

Go tell it on the mountain! Over the hills and everywhere!

Love,
Doug and Frannie Bailey

Churches of the Revolution

Revolution:
How the Bolsheviks Created a New Religion by Eliminating the Church
By Douglas W. Bailey


In 1917, Lenin and the Bolsheviks ushered in a new era in Russian history. Gone were the days of the all-powerful tsar and the ruling elite. The Bolsheviks flipped the political table upside-down with their radical move to raise the lower orders of society to the top, and tear the bourgeoisie down. When the coup ended, so did the correlation between ownership of property and political power.

But the Bolsheviks were not merely concerned with shifting political power from the top to the bottom. They sought for nothing less than the formation of a New World, and a New Man to live in that world. To do this would not be easy, and the Bolsheviks understood they would not be able to simply build upon the pre-existing religious beliefs and cultural mores of the time. Despite their atheism, and perhaps inadvertently, they took from Christ’s teachings the idea that “new wine cannot be put into old bottles.” In order for a transformation of the magnitude they sought to take place, they would have to start from scratch. And in order to start from scratch, they would have to demolish the existing structure.

One of the pillars of that structure, and perhaps the one bearing most of the load, was the Russian Orthodox Church, and as such, would have to be the first thing to go. Ironically, in the quest to eradicate Russia of her Church, the Bolsheviks erected a church of their own, complete with its own set of beliefs, value systems, and conventions of behavior.

Identity in Orthodoxy

Defining their own national identity has long been a question for the Russian people, and the debate continues to rage on today. One of the reasons for this is their unique geographical location between Europe and Asia. For everything that means geographically, it is compounded when talked about in cultural and geopolitical terms. The Russian philosopher and writer, Pyotr Iakovlevich Chaadaev, raised the question in the early part of the 19th century: “We are neither of the West nor of the East, and we have not the traditions of either.” Deciding whose traditions to adopt would be the subject of debate for years to come, and the answers were as unclear then as they are now. But with all the varying opinions between East and West, and which direction the Russians should take politically and culturally, there was never a question of who they were spiritually.

Pravoslavia, or Russian Orthodoxy, has been the pillar of Russian identity since the 10th century, when Vladimir cut down the pagan gods and idols and united his people through baptism and Christianization. For years, they practiced the faith and passed it down faithfully from generation to generation, until it became so ingrained in the Russian conscience that the secretary of education, Sergei Uvarov, made it an official part of the curriculum:

When we…investigate those fundamental principles which comprise Russia’s most valuable possession…it becomes clear that of those chief principles without which Russia cannot flourish, grow stronger, exist – we have just three:

1. The Orthodox Faith
2. Autocracy
3. The National Character

Of those three, Orthodoxy stands at number one. Uvarov explains why:

Without love for the Faith of their forefathers, any people, like any private person, will inevitably perish. Weakening the Faith in the people is tantamount to draining them of their blood and ripping out their hearts. Doing so would mean dooming them to the paltriest of moral and political destinies.

This statement might easily be dismissed in today’s culture as religious fanaticism, or at least extreme exaggeration, but even the Bolsheviks, who rejected Orthodoxy and the belief in God altogether, saw the wisdom in Chaadaev’s message and espoused the idea that a faithless people would be a weak people. It is precisely for this reason that they instituted their own faith. They understood that when they took away the pillar of Russian identity, they would have to replace it with a pillar of their own, lest it all come crashing down.

The Cement Church

As in most Christian religions, the Orthodox Church places very high importance on the written word, as contained in the Bible. The scriptures are the source upon which doctrines are based, and they are the instructions the people must follow in order to be saved.

In 1932, the Central Committee of the Communist Party created scriptures of their own when they formed the Writers’ Union, and “Socialist Realism was declared the sole method appropriate for Soviet literature.” As a result, “the business of writing novels soon became comparable to the procedure followed by medieval icon painters.” And just as the icons were a window into Heaven for the Russian people, so the novels of Socialist Realism became a window into the New World.

Among the vast works of socialist realism, one in particular that provided this window into the New World was Gladkov’s Cement. In its time, Cement was among a small group of novels that had been cited with enough regularity by the Writers’ Congress to be considered “canon.” And just as the Bible (which contains the canonical works of the Orthodox Church) is a good source for Christian theology, so Cement is a source for Bolshevik ideology:

In the opening of the novel, the hero, Gleb Chumalov, a soldier in the Red Army returns from the front to his hometown along the Black Sea. Unfortunately, as he tries to become reacquainted with his old surroundings, he realizes that not much familiar remains. His wife acts almost as a complete stranger, his daughter has been turned over to the State, and the cement factory is in shambles. After a few futile attempts to turn his wife’s heart back to him, Gleb decides to turn his efforts the factory. He knows that the only way to resurrect the town is through the resurrection of the factory.

Gladkov’s novel is saturated with biblical imagery – a convenient way for the Bolsheviks to use already existing lore, perverting it slightly, to engrain their ideology into the minds of the people. Nowhere does this imagery function more than in the factory, as it parallels Solomon’s temple.

The temple, in Biblical lore, is the Lord’s house, it is where the Lord’s presence is, and it is where sacred ordinances are performed that draw one nearer to God. Likewise, the factory is where the spirit of the proletarian revolution resides, and it is where the “ordinance” of labor is performed, which draws one nearer to the New Man. “There’s only one thing that matters, Comrade…and that’s work among the masses…work, work, work…we’re staking everything on our labor. Our brains and our hands tremble – not from strain but from the desire for new labors. We are building up socialism, Comrades, and our proletarian culture.”

Gleb fully understands the importance of the factory, and as Christ cleansed the temple of moneychangers when he came into Jerusalem during the week of the Passover, so Gleb must cleanse this “temple,” which has been desecrated, overgrown with weeds, roaming goats and peddlers ripping off scrap metal to use for cigarette lighters. Like the Israelites without their temple, the people of the village have become depraved without the factory, and Gleb has come to restore it.

But in his attempt to restore the factory to its former glory, Gleb runs into bureaucratic hurdles. Because of his experience as a soldier, Gleb is ready to tear through these hurdles, as he would have as a soldier on the front. But in peacetime, these chaotic methods have become unacceptable. Gleb must be re-educated in order to function as a productive citizen of the State. He must learn to submit his will to the will of the Party, even if it means putting up with the inefficiency of bureaucracy.

One might find it interesting that Cement deals with this theme rather than the more familiar theme of “class struggle.” Why doesn’t the novel focus on the transition from a capitalistic class society to the more perfect system of communism, the ultimate goal of the Bolsheviks? In short, after the war, most of the Bolsheviks’ problems came from their radical left-wing brothers, not from the wealthy elite or ruling class. So, instead of providing edifying tales about the class struggle, which was a battle they had already won, the Bolsheviks generated myths that worked to subdue individual spontaneity in favor of a conscientious member of a community, ruled from above.

Katerina Clark writes about the “spontaneity/consciousness dialectic” spoken of in her essay on the Soviet novel:

“Consciousness” is taken to mean actions or political activities that are controlled, disciplined, and guided by politically aware bodies. “Spontaneity,” on the other hand, means actions that are not guided by complete political awareness and are either sporadic, uncoordinated, even anarchic…or can be attributed to the workings of vast impersonal historical forcers rather than to deliberate actions.”

It is this spontaneous nature that Cement condemns. Gleb finally learns to let his actions be guided and controlled by the Party, and as a result, the factory is restored and the people saved.

Just as the parables in the Gospels are meant to apply to the lives of Christians, so the plot and characters of Cement are meant to apply to all Soviet citizens. Gleb is the model for the New Man, and in order to be transformed as Gleb, every man must first and foremost, learn to submit to the direction of the Party. Once under that guidance, the citizen will be purified through labor in the factory, and the production that results from that labor will be used towards building the New World.

Summary of the Cement Church

The Soviet Union created “scripture” for the people when they instituted the Writers’ Union and used a select group of models as the template for all subsequent novels. Cement, by Gladkov, is one of those selected as canon. It taught the people that 1) the Party is God, and as such 2) personal will must be submitted to the Party, that 3) the factory is the temple where one can be transformed into a New Man through 4) the ordinance of labor.

The Gulag Church

For those who did not submit to the Party, who continued to act “spontaneously” (or were perceived or suspected of acting spontaneously), a hell was prepared in the form of penal labor camps. After the revolution, the Bolsheviks created a government agency known as the Gulag to oversee the operation of these camps and ensure the punishment and/or reform of the criminals and political dissidents sent to them, simultaneously advancing the literal building up of the New World. Over time, the term gulag acquired the more general meaning of the system of more than 450 labor complexes spread throughout the Soviet Union. The gulags have come to be known for the harsh treatment of their prisoners: meager food rations, inadequate clothing, overcrowding, poor housing facilities, almost non-existent health care, and incredibly hard labor.

It is estimated that more than 18 million people passed through the gulags throughout the existence of the Soviet Union, and during the Great Purges of the Stalinist era, five to seven million people were imprisoned at any one time. Nearly ten percent of the 18 million died from the appalling conditions.

Alexander Solzhenitsyn was one of the millions of Soviet citizens who experienced the hell of the gulag. In 1945, while serving as a commander in the Red Army, he was arrested for private criticisms he made of Stalin. Solzhenitsyn was sentenced to eight years in the labor camps, and it was this experience that inspired him to write One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. From this fictionalized account of life in the labor camps, we see that even in hell, the Bolsheviks were able to take from the prisoners their religion and institute one of their own.

As the title suggests, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich follows a man for one day in a labor camp, from the time he wakes up till the time he goes back to bed. It is essentially a tale of survival, in which Ivan Denisovich and his gang of workers expend all their energy in an effort to secure a little more food for themselves and perhaps a little more warmth in the cold. It is a routine that must be repeated day in and day out, week after week, year after year. Every ounce of energy must be harnessed just to survive, and in this state, Ivan and the others haven’t the time or energy to spend on things spiritual. Religion, for all intents and purposes, goes by the wayside. So much so that the way to tell a new arrival is by whether or not he still crosses himself. “As for the Russians,” Ivan says, “they had even forgotten which hand to cross themselves with.” What does it matter which hand to use when both are numb from the freezing cold?

Orthodoxy is the least of Ivan’s concerns, and in the place of that system of beliefs and rituals, stands the makeshift religion of the labor camp, where a spoon becomes as important as the icon of a saint, cigarettes are a divine manifestation, the Chief Guard’s directions on marching are a “sermon,” and having your prison number painted on your cap is “like being anointed on your brow by a priest.”

Perhaps the most interesting facet of the Gulag Church is that, as depressing as the rites and rituals become for the prisoners, as poorly as the Soviet system treats them, they still buy into the basic tenants of the Cement Church. Namely, that the Party is God, and that labor is the ordinance through which salvation is obtained.

While setting up to build a section of wall, one of the prisoners in Ivan’s group observes that it’s already noon. Ivan Denisovich agrees, noting the sun’s position directly overhead. But the captain overhears this conversation and steps in to set the prisoners straight. He lets them know that when the sun is overhead, it means that it is not noon, but one o’clock. “’ How so?’” questions Ivan. “’Any old man knows that the sun’s at its highest when it’s time for dinner.’ ‘Any old man – maybe!’ snapped the captain. ‘But since then a decree has been issued that the sun is at its highest at one o’clock.’ ‘Who issued the decree?’ ‘The Soviet Government!’” At this point, Ivan Denisovich drops the argument and resigns himself to the idea that even the sun is subject to the Party.

When this is realized, all else follows. If the sun is subject to the Party, then certainly men are as well, and they do the labor they are asked to perform. What’s more, they are, in a way, redeemed through this act. The only time Ivan Denisovich is not concerned with survival is when he is laying bricks! Somehow, the act of labor liberates Ivan from the day-to-day worries of food, shelter, and warmth. He is able to concentrate on the physical act of building a wall, and in that way, gives physical meaning to his existence in the labor camp. In effect, Ivan Denisovich is transformed from a selfish and spontaneous individual, concerned only with his own health and well being, to a conscientious member of Soviet Society, working with his fellow citizens to complete a brick wall for the New World. This idea – transformation through labor – is a profoundly Soviet and Stalinist concept, a basic tenant of their “religion.”

Summary of the Gulag Church

So, although the Bolsheviks didn’t create the Gulag Church the way they planned and engineered the Cement Church (with its beliefs and goals clearly lined out in scripture), the harsh treatment of criminals and dissidents in the labor camps at once destroyed Orthodoxy and necessitated the formation of a new religion. While pathetic in its rites and rituals, this religion still supported the basic tenants of the Cement Church in the end: the Party is God, and through submission to its will, the New Man can be formed through labor.

Apostasy and the Formation of New Churches

The apostasy of the Church that Jesus Christ established in the Old World was due in large part to the persistent persecution from both Judaistic and pagan opposition. Vast numbers, including many officers in the ministry, deserted the Church, and nearly all of the apostles were killed. The end result of this opposition was an apostasy from the Church. But even more serious than the opposition from without were the dissensions from within, “whereby an absolute apostasy of the Church from the way and word of God was brought about.” Christ’s Church fell when the people within began changing the doctrines and grabbing for power.

The Cement Church and its counterpart, the Gulag Church, fell apart in the same way. The Bolsheviks argued that their ideology would create a world where all were equal, where everyone would work for the common good, where there would be no rich and no poor, and therefore no benefits attached to wealth or disadvantages attached to poverty. But within their own organization was where that philosophy was trampled on the most, and as a result, the church they created fell.

This parallel in no way suggests that the Soviet Union would have continued on and that their quest for a New World would have been accomplished had there not been corruption from within, but corruption certainly didn’t help their cause.

The Russian people were not idiots, and they could clearly see that the practice of Bolshevik ideology did not lead to its intended results. What is more, they saw that while they were forced to surrender their will to the Party and to labor for the cause, others were receiving all sorts of benefits and advantages without performing any labor at all. Bolshevism was not so equal in its treatment of individuals after all. As Vladimir Brovkin explains in his treatment on culture and society after Lenin:

It was not the party of the proletariat in the country building socialism. It was a party bereft of revolutionary spirit, a party of social-climbers, and bureaucrats, a party whose elite was far from confident in the success of the enterprise it had embarked upon…The Bolshevik organization…was a mobilization and recruitment agency producing cadres for state administration. It was a propaganda and tax-collection agency…It was a self-sustaining and perpetuating ruling elite claiming to be proletarian and Marxist.

This type of hypocrisy and bureaucratization is what inspired Russian writers to build up “churches” of their own, just as the hypocrisy of Christ’s apostate church inspired the protestants to build up their own churches.

Joseph Stalin has been quoted as saying that Soviet writers are the “engineers of human souls.” Ironically, the amount of literature written subverting Stalinist/Bolshevik ideology has come to outweigh the literature Stalin forced upon the people in his attempt to transform them. The writers did indeed take on the role of engineers, and through their literature, themes and archetypes were expressed that contrasted the ideology of the Soviet novel.

Mikhail Zoshchenko satirized the entire Soviet system in his short stories, using humor to poke fun at the inefficient bureaucracy and the citizens it produced, while Yuri Trifonov and Joseph Brodsky explored more seriously the malaise that permeated Soviet society due to the shortage of goods, and especially the lack of living space. They exposed a world in which people had to constantly seek for connections, and deals had to be made under the table in order to survive – hardly the world of sharing and caring and social equality that was to be functioning in the New World.

Tatyana Tolstaya and Victor Pelevin, while varying stylistically, uncover an even darker Soviet reality, where malaise would be a welcome emotion for characters that find themselves perpetually falling and flailing in a hopeless existence. “Meaning,” in many of Tolstaya’s short stories, is found only in physical objects that represent the past, the pre-revolution era, while Pelevin’s Oman Ra is defined by its complete absence of meaning. Life for Oman is nothing more than a series of absurdities forced upon him by Soviet protocol, and ultimately, his existence turns out to be one big illusion, fakery produced by the Soviet elite.

Also among the literature criticizing Soviet reality is Mikhail Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita, a revision of the stories of Faust and Pontius Pilate. On top of exposing the inconsistency in Soviet ideology and reality, Bulgakov attempts to develop an alternate ideology. He thwarts the idea that the Party is God by making fun of the scarcity of goods and the system of entitlement, and exposing the incompetence of the police in their investigations – they get everything wrong! He turns atheism on its head by bringing the devil and his angels to Moscow to torment those who don’t believe in him. Says Berlioz: “The majority of our population made a conscious decision long ago not to believe the fairy tales about God,” after which Bezdomny reasserts that God does not exist, and further makes the claim that it is not God but man who is in control of his own fate. It is at this moment that the devil begins showing Berlioz, Bezdomny, and the “majority of the population” that even if God doesn’t exist, the devil does, and either way, man is not in control of his own fate nor is the Party.

Although Bulgakov’s philosophy breaks down and there are some inconsistencies in the end, one thing that is clear is that acting and writing according to one’s conscience brings salvation. The fate of Pontius Pilate can shed light on the argument: after giving into protocol and bureaucracy – going against his conscience – Pilate allows for the crucifixion of Yeshua. Because of this, he is tormented for hundreds and hundreds of years, and does not obtain relative peace until Margarita forgives him of the deed. One of the most important ideals of Bolshevik ideology – submitting individual will to become a conscientious member of the whole – is here turned inside out. Individual will is what would have saved Pontius.

Summary of the New Churches

Perhaps Bulgakov was making the claim that the Soviet Union would continue to be tormented as long as the people continued to go along with the protocol, the bureaucracy, the ideology of the Bolshevik elite, etc. And according to other writers like Trifonov, Brodsky, Tolstaya, and Pelevin, Bulgakov may have been right. The torment did continue, and manifests itself in the various works of these Soviet writers – the “churches” they erected. Whether it be Brodsky’s church of looking to the past, Tolstaya’s church of pre-revolutionary objects, or Pelevin’s church of absurdity, the people now have a place to go to find relative peace. They can at least take comfort in knowing that the hypocrisy has been exposed, that they were not alone in their torment, and that their conscience, despite being repressed, was right all along.

Conclusion

In their attempt to eradicate religion, the Bolsheviks created a religion of their own, with the fundamental belief in the Party as God. They espoused a belief in work and labor as the ordinance that would transform a spontaneous individual into a conscientious member of the community, living and breathing under the direction of the Party. This prescription was meant to bring about a New World in which poverty, sickness, selfishness, and ambition would cease to exist. But the system brought about the opposite results. Poverty and sickness continued to exist and selfishness and ambition manifested itself the most within the highest cadres of the system.

The religion the Bolsheviks forced upon the people failed, and writers filled the vacuum with churches of their own, founded on themes and archetypes that directly contradicted the themes and archetypes of Soviet scripture. These new churches, whether they rely on humor, nostalgia, or absurdity, are where the people can now go for peace of mind.

Family Ties

Elder Hindu,

I did some research on Don Loper, and it seems he was a famous designer from Beverly Hills. He specialized in "american costumes" and neckties, and was also a screenwriter, choreographer, singer, and actor. Quite the career! I learned that his neckties have recently resurfaced with great popularity among young Mormon missionaries, and based on your enthusiasm for them, I'd say the statement is accurate. I wonder if some of my prized neckties happen to be of the Loper collection...?

Anyway, I'll get on ebay and see what I can find...

As for Frannie and me, things are going well. We've got TWO WEEKS of school left, after which I'll be skipping around the streets of L.A., singing praises to the heavens, my hair blowing behind me...

In the meantime though, we're working on final papers and getting ready for final exams. The one I'm working on right now is about the new era that was ushered in by the Bolsheviks in 1917. In building their "New World," they needed to cleanse the people of religion, and in doing so, paradoxically, created a religion of their own. My paper is about the establishment and development of that "church." I'm still researching a lot, and have found some pretty interesting things to write down. I'll give you an update when I'm done.

We also went to visit Duane and Rita McIntosh again yesterday, and that was great. They took us to the Ventura Harbor. I walked and talked with Duane and Frannie and Rita walked and talked at a brisker pace ahead of us. The little yachts bobbed up and down slightly and a few people were stringing lights, getting ready for their Christmas Light Show at the Yacht Club. Apparently, all these people treat their boats like Clark W. Griswald treats his home, and Frannie and I are going back up there on the 15th of December to witness the magic.

Duane talked a lot about the Church, and I have the feeling he thinks about it all the time. He isn't a member, but his daughters are strong in the Church, and he sees the good it is in their families. He told me about a term paper he wrote in college about the history of the Church, and how, since then, he's always been able to defend it against people who have the wrong idea.

Most of his friends are members, a lot of his brothers and sisters are members. His children and grandchildren are members! I wonder if he's just too timid to make a decision that Rita must be against... I'm not sure. But I got the feeling last night as I was praying, that I can continue to ask questions and continue to visit with him, and can be a "missionary" to him. We'll see...

I also learned a lot about Great-Grandpa McIntosh, but I won't tell you all about that, because Duane is working on two history books about his life that will be finished in the near future. Let me just say that our great-grandpappy, despite his drinking problem, was a good man, taught his kids proper values, and served our country honorably in WWI. He trained horses how to take supplies to the front and return from where they came to be loaded up again. Too many lives were being lost when soldiers delivered supplies. Anyway, there's lots lots more about him, but I'll let you read it in the books...

The Rogers family is doing well. Frannie took the mom and the girls to church yesterday. I think they're ready for baptism. We'll have to work a little harder with the dad and oldest son...

USC is in the hunt for the Rose Bowl. They "control their own destiny" as every ESPN commentator now annoyningly says about every team who has a shot at anything. With a win over UCLA this weekend, we'll clinch the Pac-10 and be headed for Pasadena! Sweet. I'm going to be lining up at about 9:00 in the morning Saturday for the game, which starts at 1:30. I can't wait.

Fight on, Trojans! And Fight on, Elder Bailey! Whip those Jamaicans into shape. You've only got a few more months to do it...

Love,
Douglas

Green Conservatism

Can Red be Green?
How to Show Love for Environment Without Hugging Trees

By Douglas W. Bailey

Over the past several years, the controversies about energy have begun to take the forefront in the political and economic world. Questions about the environmental consequences of energy production, distribution, consumption, and energy policy are at the top of every news program’s daily reel, grace the front page of every major newspaper in the country, and even show up as themes on the big screen (i.e., The Day After Tomorrow, Happy Feet, An Inconvenient Truth, etc.). This trend has sent the liberal politicians scrambling to come up with a plan that will quell the mass hysteria. Unfortunately, the conservatives see fit to do just the opposite. As a result, the American people are left with policies that secure the environment, but at the same time, curtail the rights of individuals and business owners, and hamper the economy. May this article get the conservatives off the couch and show that it’s possible to create a policy that expresses both our ethical obligations to the environment as well as to individual rights and the economy.

The Earth is not Flat, and The Fred Syndrome

Yesterday, after a long day at work, I sat down in front of the television with a hot plate of pizza in my hands. After clicking the power button on my trusty remote control, I was greeted by the beautifully bearded face of “The Honorable” Al Gore, as he’s now come to be known (I actually saw his placard with those words printed on it during a session of Congress on C-SPAN II). At the bottom of the screen flashed: Al Gore – Nobel Peace Prize Winner. I thought, wow, that’s even more astonishing than seeing “The Honorable” on his placard. Astonished as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to change the channel. My finger even reached for the volume-up button and pressed it a few times. After listening for a moment, I thought, wow! Even more astonishing than the caption placed beneath The Honorable Al Gore’s face (which was more astonishing than seeing “The Honorable” on his placard) were the words coming from his mouth. When asked about an op-ed piece written by a member of the IPCC (the U.N.’s Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change), criticizing his dire predictions about the cause and impact of global warming, The Honorable Al Gore smiled with compassion and pity and said, “There are still people who believe that the Earth is flat, but when you’re reporting on a story like the one you’re covering today [global warming], where you have people all around the world, you don’t search out for someone who still believes the Earth is flat and give them equal time.”

In effect, anyone who disagrees with The Honorable Al Gore on the issue of global warming is also likely to be one of the handful of individuals who still believes the Earth is flat. This is a convenient way to shut out the opposing view, and has worked wonderfully to a large extent, because when conservatives hear this kind of condescending, arrogant rhetoric, they don’t just turn off the television; they turn off the debate. It’s a natural enough reaction. And if it ended with turning off the television, it might even be an honorable reaction. But more often than not, turning off the television leads to turning off the brain whenever the environmental debate resurfaces.

In a way, it’s a lot like Fred, my neighbor’s cat, who used to drool and meow every time he heard the gentle hum of the electric can-opener. Fred’s brain had made the connection that “can-opener” equals “tuna fish dinner,” despite the fact that it was a can of tuna only 25% of the time. For the conservative brain, words like “green,” “environment,” and more recently “Nobel,” act like that gentle electric hum, but instead of getting hungry at the thought of some juicy tuna fish, we get irritated. Those buzz words trigger the memory of the condescending, arrogant attitude embodied by Nobel Peace Prize Winner The Honorable Al Gore, which thus triggers the power-off button.

Getting Over the Fred Syndrome

However natural a reaction powering off might be, it’s the wrong one. Unfortunately, it’s the only answer coming from the right at this time. Whenever a question is asked about global warming, the response is usually something like, “well, I don’t believe people are causing global warming, so there’s nothing we can do to stop it.” That sentiment is a common theme for Rush Limbaugh, in many ways the voice of conservative ideology. And actually, there is plenty of evidence to support his claim and the generally held conservative belief that global warming is caused by things other than man, and that the apocalyptic predictions of destruction due to warming are unfounded.

In his article, “Climate Stability: an Inconvenient Proof,” David Bellamy argues that “Global warming is a largely natural phenomenon. The world is wasting stupendous amounts of money on trying to fix something that can’t be fixed.” This is essentially the same argument made by Mr. Limbaugh, but coming at it from a scientific foundation.

Antonino Zichichi, the president of the World Federation of Scientists, and an emeritus professor of physics at the University of Bologna, expresses his belief in the inaccuracy of these predictions: “The models used by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) are incoherent and invalid from a scientific point of view.” So even if we concede the point – go along with the idea that man causes climate change – the idea that it will cause destruction is based on incoherent and invalid science. In fact, according to Sherwood Idso, a former research physicist for the USDA Water Conservation Laboratory and emeritus professor at Arizona St. University, “warming has been shown to positively impact human health, while atmospheric CO2 enrichment has been shown to enhance the health-promoting properties of the food we eat, as well as stimulate the production of more of it.” In other words, we have nothing to fear! My relatives in Wyoming should be welcoming the increase in temperatures. In addition to getting healthier food, they’ll finally be able to start playing golf in the traditionally cold and wintry weeks in April and May, when the golf season is supposed to be getting underway.
Conservatives can prove that humanity is not responsible for global warming the same way liberals can prove we are responsible. But “let’s not bicker and argue about who killed who,” to quote the King from Swamp Castle in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Arguing over who exactly is responsible is causing us to miss the point. Climate change is occurring no matter whom or what is responsible. The problem with the conservative stance is not that we deny responsibility for global warming, but that the denial bleeds into a denial of responsibility to the environment as a whole. We can argue about the cause, we can argue about what effect we can have on changing the trends, and we can argue about how devastating the effects will be if we don’t do something about it. Instead of arguing about that, why don’t we agree to agree that we might as well make the environment a cleaner place, because we want our kids to breathe fresh air too.

A Cleaner Earth is a Better Earth*

Say what you will about Nobel Peace Prize Winner The Honorable Al Gore, but he has succeeded in raising awareness of the fact that temperatures are rising and that our environment could use some cleaning. He might have juiced his documentary up with some HGH, a few steroids here and there, especially in regards to a certain desperate polar bear drowning in the all but melted Arctic Sea, but we can still accept his claims in broad terms (albeit with an asterisk in mind [i.e., Barry Bonds and his home run ball]), at least in the sense that a cleaner earth is a better earth.

The question that now remains is how we go about cleaning the earth.

For the most part, the liberal solutions to cleaning up the environment are based on litigation, higher taxes, and government regulation. On the regulation front, you have Hillary. Her plan to clean the air is as follows: “This bipartisan bill would require power plants to significantly reduce harmful emissions of sulfur dioxide, nitrogen oxides, mercury, and carbon dioxide.” That sounds easy enough. But the Senator forgot to mention what happens to the power plants when the government decides to regulate their production. The price of production increases, which means the price of distribution increases, which means the price of retail increases. The general public takes the financial hit for the regulation, and when the public takes a hit, the economy takes a hit.

On the higher tax front, we can look to Barack Obama for his solution to curbing climate change:

I believe we should make the auto companies a deal that…It's a piece of legislation I introduced called "Health Care for Hybrids," and it would allow the federal government to pick up part of the tab for the auto companies' retiree health care costs. In exchange, the auto companies would then use some of that savings to build and invest in more fuel-efficient cars. It's a win-win proposal for the industry - their retirees will be taken care of, they'll save money on health care, and they'll be free to invest in the kind of fuel-efficient cars that are the key to their competitive future.

Appealing at first glance, but like Hillary, Barack forgets an important piece to the puzzle: where does the money from the federal government come from? That’s right. The citizens. In order for the federal government to provide for the auto companies’ retiree health care costs, it will have to take from the people first. And what happens to the economy when taxes are raised? That’s right.

And finally, the litigation front: two years ago, the state of New York, along with two adjoining states, began legal action against a power company in Pennsylvania for creating air pollution that drifts across state lines. The litigation intends to sue the corporate officers and force the company to install antipollution equipment. But according to a representative of the industry, forcing the company to use the most advanced and most expensive pollution-control devices would only “raise electricity rates in poor areas of West Virginia…and do nothing to decrease pollution.”

A Cleaner Earth is a Better Earth (No Asterisk Included)

The liberals’ obsession with expanding government regulations and taxes to curb greenhouse gases is just as destructive for the economy as the conservatives’ infection of the Fred Syndrome is as destructive to the environment. Neither attitude will work. What needs to be brought into political arena is a brand of environmentalism that is intrinsically tied to conservative values – an environmentalism that is market-driven, incentive-led, entrepreneurial, and optimistic.

The Strategerie

This new brand of “green conservatism” offers a more effective approach than litigation, as in the case in New York. Instead of driving the cost of energy up for the people of West Virginia by forcing expensive regulations on the plant and suing their corporate officers, an attempt ought to be made to drive the cost down! The way to do this is through tax incentives. Offering the plant financial rewards for adhering to a self-imposed maintenance program will motivate them to regulate themselves. It’s much easier to convince someone to do something when there’s a reward for doing it. The power plant will be more willing to impose sanctions on itself if it doesn’t come as a financial burden.

In addition to providing motivation for the company, decreasing the taxes will enable the cost of production to go down or at least to remain the same. This means the price of the energy produced can also go down or remain the same, which in turn means no added cost for the consumer, which in this case, are the people of West Virginia.

The same principle applies to the auto-makers. Supposing they do need more incentive than the demands of the market (a debatable claim in and of itself), Green Conservatism can offer it. Instead of raising taxes on the American people to pay for the auto-makers’ retiree health care costs, the federal and state governments could reduce the taxes on companies that decide to research, develop, and build more fuel-efficient cars. This way, not only will the auto-makers be contributing to a cleaner environment, but their retirees will get to keep their health care, and the American people get to keep their money! There’s your “win-win!”

Conclusion

The constant attack from the left on corporations, consumers, SUV-driving soccer moms, and in general, humanity, for their destruction of the environment tends not to inspire conservatives to think “green,” but to see red. In anger, the conservative turns the other cheek, as a good Christian should. But because the left continues to throw punches, by way of taxes, regulations, and litigation, it is time for the conservative to keep that cheek where it is, to square up, and fight back with some answers of his own. Namely, that it’s not up to the government to dictate environmental ethics, and that businesses and individuals can be “green” without being liberal.

If conservatives can rally around the platform of Green Conservatism, it will not only allow the free market to work its magic (which allows the economy to continue to grow), but will also help create an environment with higher living standards for our children and a cleaner planet with greater biodiversity.

So Happy Together

Concert walk-out? Did Aaron and Katie try their luck at a Dixie Chicks show? Kanye West? Springstien? Vedder? I can see any one of those venues being a strong case for a walk-out...

Anyway, sounds like everyone's gotten over the flu, which is good. But if you want to avoid the flu altogether so you don't have to get over it in the first place, you should think about moving out here to Southern California.

Speaking of, the weather today is beautiful, and will continue to be so for the rest of the week. Last week was a bit chilly - 65 degrees and foggy. Frannie took her warm coat with her everywhere she went. And I actually wore shoes (it's normally flip-flops for me). But today it's back to shorts and sandles - 75 degrees and sunny. I remember when Andy came to visit two Decembers ago. The first place we went after picking him up from the airport was Venice Beach. Venice Beach in December! It was 75 degrees and sunny then too, and we played a little street ball with Spider, Milk, and other colorful characters. 'Twas a grand winter day.

But enough gloating. The truth is, I love the Wyoming winter. I even miss it sometimes. And so I ask you to enjoy it for me for next few weeks until I'm there to enjoy it myself (which will be December 19, for those interested).

In addition to the weather, life in general is treating Frannie and I well right now. We're living in the ghetto, I'm still not getting paid at the office, the Buick is out of commission, and we're happy as can be! Michael - my partner in crime at USC film school - has been coming to Elders Quorum activities and has been to church a couple more times. The missionaries are working up the courage to ask him to listen to the lessons. And the Rogers family, a family of six that lives in a two-bedroom apartment below us, are really progressing.

For those who don't know the story, Frannie and I had the missionaries over for dinner a few months ago. Unfortunately, Michael had to cancel, and we felt bad not having anyone there for the missionaries to teach, so Fran suggested going downstairs and knocking on the Rogers' door. We didn't know them at the time, but had said hi a few times in passing, and they seemed nice enough. I was reluctant and skeptical, but Frannie was determined. So we went down and knocked on the door (I can't tell you how much this reminded me of my mission), and Frannie invited them up for a spiritual thought. Mark, the dad, accepted.

Since then, not a lot of progress was made. I tried to go down and read the scriptures with him, but he kept cancelling our appointments (I wonder if he's got some Jamaican blood in him). But when the missionaries told us about a fireside featuring Gladys Knight and her gospel choir, things took a turn for the best. The whole family came, and the evening was amazing. It was a night of powerful testimony and music. Gladys and her husband talked about the church and the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith, and they raved about the missionaries. The Rogers loved it, and filled out a card to have the missionaries come by and teach them more.

Well, the missionaries came by this past week and taught them a first discussion. And then Frannie took it upon herself yesterday to knock on their door at 8:00 in the morning and get them ready for church. The mother, Claudette, and one of her daughters, Amber, came with Frannie and I, and despite the Wilshire Ward being a bit like a zoo (it also reminded me of my mission - you just never know who's going to speak out and what they might say), the girls felt the spirit, and can't wait to go next week.

The missionaries are coming back to their apartment this Saturday, and I'll be joining them for the discussion. It should be fun...

So, if that doesn't make us happy, I don't know what would! Although I must say, having only three more weeks of school helps, as does coming home to Frannie every night, as does finishing the third draft of my script for these producers, as does the recent promise from my boss that he talked to the "powers that be" about officially making me part of the team.

All in all, things are good.

We love you all and can't wait to see you in a little over a month!

Love,
Douglas Wade

My Friend the Squirrel

This was a letter I wrote to Marc and Andy on Sept. 22, 2006 while they were on their missions:

Hello all,

I just thought I'd check in once again. It's been a little while since I've written, and it's been a long while since I've talked to some of you (Elder Marcus Bailey takes 1st place for that one), so I figured I let you in on some of the things that have been
happening around here.

First of all, if you didn't know it already, Marc and Andy, Steve Irwin, The Crocodile Hunter, died about a week ago. A sting ray stung him in the heart with one of its barbs. This may seem odd to some of you, but I loved Steve Irwin. I loved him long before he was ever the Crocodile Hunter! Me and Ed Allshouse used to watch his show when it was called The Steve Irwin
Show, and I'm pretty sure those were the days when I decided I wanted to work in a zoo. His passion for God's creations developed a passion in me. I even made Dad buy a set of CD's for the computer so I could start learning about all the animals in the world, and someday, be as knowledgable in the field as the Aussie. Anyway, his death was kind of sad for me. It put me in a sombre mood all day, and it didn't help that I would be at work washing dishes for another seven hours.

After a while, I was let on break. I took a banana-nut muffin with me and went and sat on a little bench under a tree, secluded from the rest of campus. As I sat eating my muffin, I noticed a visitor tip-toeing slowly towards me. "Crikey!" I thought. "A squirrel!" I smiled at "the beautiful animal" and he immediately backed off a coulple feet. I took a little piece of my banana-nut muffin and held it out for him. He took a couple steps forward, but wouldn't go any further. "Don't worry little fella! I'm not gonna hurt ya." I continued to hold my hand out, and eventually, the squirrel realized that I really wasn't going to hurt him. So he walked right up to me and took the chunk out of my hand. Then he scurried off a couple feet to
eat, eyeing me while chewed. I continued to eat my muffin and he continued to come up to me for more crumbs. And I spent the rest of my break with that little squirrel.

Later that night (I'll be brief with this one), I was taking out the trash, and in the middle of the path, I saw what I thought was a rather large cat staring at me. When I realized there's no way a cat could grow to that size, I became a little wary and started walking slower towards the animal. The animal, whatever it was, spooked and darted right for me. "Crikey!" I thought. "Don't be upset, you little bugga!" I got out of the way, and he darted for the bushes. I knelt down to see if I couldn't make out what it was, and there he was, a raccoon, "a magnificent animal!" staring back at me through the leaves. I threw out a piece of bread from the trash towards him. He calmly walked out, grabbed the bread and walked back into the bushes. There he sat, eyeing me as he ate the tasty morsel.

I've been back to both of those spots several times since, but haven't seen my friends. I take comfort knowing that if we don't meet again in this life, I'll be able to see them in the next. And what's more, I may even get to sit around with Betsy, Buster, Sasha, Pepsi, Tiggy, and others, and perhaps Steve himself will join us all for some hot cocoa and a game of Animal Kingdom. Wouldn't that be great.

One more thing: George Lucas has decided to donate $175 million to the cinema school, which will be called The School of Cinematic Arts from now on (upon his request). It's the largest donation ever for USC and will be used to upgrade our facilities. Pretty sweet, eh? Unfortunately, I think I'll be done by the time any of it takes effect. But still. 175 Mil is pretty sweet in and of itself.

Until we meet again,
Douglas

Kamryn

My niece, Kamryn has been faithfully emailing me for a few months now. And before she figured out how simple it was to dictate to her father what she wanted to send me electronically, she used to send handwritten letters in the mail. It's been a joy to recieve them in both forms. One of the drawback of living in California is being away from "the girlies," and Jackson and Colin and Max and the rest of the family. But Kami's letters make it easier. What follows is one of our correspondences:

Dear Doug and Frannie,
Before I say anything, about the joke I get it now.
Well anyway how's it going over there?
I mean like how's the weather over there and thing's.
Oh. And how's Frannie. Is she pregnentyet!
I almost fogot I'll ask my parent's for the trip Frannie and you to Doug.
Your's Forever,
Kamryn B. Bailey

Howdy, Kamchatka!

I hope you like your new nick name. If not, too bad so sad.

The weather over here is quite remarkable. It's about 85 degrees in the valley, which is where I work, and it's about 75 degrees in the city, and it's about 70 degrees at the beaches. Isn't it crazy that there can so many different temperatures in one city?! That's because the ocean cools off the beaches, and the breeze cools off the city, but then it gets blocked by the mountains, so the valley just gets all the sun and no breeze. That's why it's so much hotter here.

Luckily, me and Frannie live in the city where it's nice and cool most of the time.

We're almost done with school. Just two months left, and then we're free from school forever!!! We're going to have to get real jobs and work all the time like your old man. But it'll be okay because I'm going to like my job.

Also, Uncle Marc is coming out to visit in a couple weeks. He's going to check out one of the film schools out here. I think he wants to be a producer. That would be awesome because then we could team up and be partners like the Warner Brothers.

So, things are going well! Frannie's not pregnant yet, but we'll let you know when she is. Keep your fingers crossed.

I love you and can't wait to see you again! Say hi to your mom and popps for me and all your sisters.

Love,
Douglas Wade

PS what are you going to be for Halloween? What about your sisters?

Pasadena Birthing Project

I've been working with a Non-profit agency for my writing class in the USC School of Business. This is a write-up I did for them that summarizes their mission, the problem they're working to solve, and the solution. While it isn't formatted in the pretty way it is on Word, and doesn't have the pretty pictures, you get the idea. It's a great cause, and I'm happy to be a part of it.

WHY THE PASADENA BIRTHING PROJECT ?

"Children are an heritage of the Lord"
-Psalms 127:3


For One who has created the beautiful Earth on which we and all Life dwell, there must be something very special about what the Lord himself claims is His heritage. Of all that He made – the waters of the sea, the rocks that form mountains, the leaves that adorn the forest trees, the billowing clouds of heaven and the stars that shine at night, all creatures great and small, from the birds above to the fish beneath – of all of the magnificent creations of this earth, children are His legacy.

This certainly says something about the worth of a child in God’s eyes, and hopefully gives us a greater appreciation for them as well. We have all surely felt the warmth of a child’s smile in our heart or experienced the calm that can come from their innocent presence. They make the world’s burdens light and shine hope into what would otherwise be hopeless situations.

But beyond their capacity to make our lives better lies their divine right to experience life for themselves. A child deserves the opportunity not only to bring their light into the world, but also to develop it, and utilize it in order to achieve their divine potential.

THE PROBLEM

Unfortunately, as is the case in many urban areas around the country, the African American community in Pasadena has a high rate of infant mortality. In other words, a high rate of babies die either while the mother is giving birth or at some point during their first year of life, thereby ending their opportunity to bring their light into the world. In a country as blessed as the United States, with its wealth of medical knowledge and resources, this is simply unacceptable. It points not necessarily to a failure in the system, but to a lack of education about the system.

Mothers, for whatever reason, do not or cannot access the resources they need to keep themselves and their baby healthy during this critical time in the their development. This problem, more often than not, can be solved simply by connecting the person in need with the services available.

THE SOLUTION

The Pasadena Birthing Project provides that connection: a mentor, who by providing direction, emotional support and education to the mother, will help keep her and her baby alive and healthy. This mentor will be there for the mother during pregnancy, and will continue to support her for one year after the birth of the child. In most circumstances, the mother will now be fully capable of providing for the health and well being of her child, and will be able to give that child the chance to shine his or her light into the world.

THE FAMILY

The family is the most basic and fundamentally important unit in society. It is within the walls of a home where a child learns his or her worth in the eyes of God, and learns the worth of his brothers and sisters, his mother and father. Love is learned in the home, and skills are taught that will enable the child to function in society and interact with the world.

Every child deserves to be born into this kind of family atmosphere, within the bonds of matrimony, to be reared by a mother and father who honor each other and their obligations as parents. While this family unit is the ideal, many people find themselves in a variety of other circumstances, including single-parent families (a situation especially prevalent within the Black Community). But God loves all his children, without exception, regardless of the family situations in which they find themselves, and the Birthing Project seeks to make His love felt by creating an “extended family” for the mother and child.

Each volunteer woman claims one pregnant teen or woman as her “sister,” thus enabling every woman to have a Sister Friend and every child to have an Aunt. This Sister Friend will make sure her sister is getting the proper prenatal care during pregnancy, she will be with her sister during labor, and she will be there to welcome the child into the world.

Other volunteer women claim the grandmothers of the newly born children (often women who simply didn’t expect to become grandmothers this early in life) and become their Mother Friend. Mother Friends are grandmothers themselves, and as such, have gained precious wisdom through their life experience, which they can then impart to the new grandmothers.

During the next year, the Mother Friend will continue in her role, and the Sister Friend will continue her in her role, teaching her sister essential parenting and life skills: how to find housing, transportation, child care, drug rehabilitation, etc., and how to set and achieve educational and/or employment goals. The Sister Friend imparts her time, her love, her experience and wisdom to help her sister be the mother she was destined to be.

The “extended family” that has been forged by these new relationships will serve to provide an environment of love and affection, and will be a refuge from the storms of life. In this family, the child will be given the opportunity to shine.

update

Just thought I'd post something since I haven't posted anything for a while. I've been busy with school and work (which actually isn't "work" because I'm not getting paid yet, but that doesn't mean I'm not working) and not a whole lot has been going on around here. Classes are going well. I have wonderful teachers, as usual. Since coming to USC, I've had wonderful teachers. My wonderful teachers this semester are wonderful both in their personalities, and in their knowledge of the field. I'm taking a couple of Russian classes to complete my minor in Russian Area Studies: Modern Russian Literature and Foreign Policy of Russia and the Soviet Union. My professor of the latter worked at the Pentagon for ten years during the Cold War, analyzing the Soviets' moves and advising our country's leaders what moves to make next. Needless to say, he's got a pretty interesting background and foundation for teaching the course. My other class is Writing for Business, which is a required course, and the only requirement left for me to graduate. It's too much work for my liking, but our professor is forcing us to go above and beyond the comfort zone, and any time you're forced to do that, you learn. You stretch beyond what you thought you were capable of. That's happened for me in many of the film production courses I've taken, it happened on my mission, it happened in high school basketball practice - you push yourself beyond what you can take, and you find that you're able to go that far the next time you push yourself. We're also working with non-profit organizations as a part of the class, and I chose to team with the Pasadena Birthing Project, an organization that is trying to combat the infant mortality rate in the black community. They provide pregnant girls with "sister friends," mentors who help them through their pregnancy and stay with them for a year after the birth of the child, making sure they're going to their doctors' appointments and staying healthy, etc. It's a great cause, and I'm helping with writing some of their job descriptions and putting together an employee manual. The last class I'm taking this semester is called the Art and Industry of the Theatrical Film. It's a case study of Spider Man III (of all movies!). Every week, we get some of the professionals who worked on the set to tell us about what a nightmare it was to work on the set, and then we get to ask them questions. It's rather enlightening!

So on top of the classes, I'm here at WhiteLight Entertainment, answering phones, running errands, and doing my own homework, as well as writing a script for Jason Berman and Mike Jenson. I'm on the third draft right now, and hope to be DONE in the next couple weeks. It's been a long and arduous process, more so than I thought it would be. Hopefully, it'll pay off $$$...

Other than all that, I've had the privelage of spending time with Frances. Every spare minute we have, we spend together. And that, I must say, is the perfect remedy for heavy load I bear throughout the week. She seems to be able to take it all off my back the second I see her smile as she gets off that bus. And the load drifts upward I walk her home through the dark streets of downtown los angeles. It's a beautiful thing. She's a beautiful thing...

Pictures Can Win the War

This is a letter I wrote to the writer of an article printed in TIME magazine about the courageous films that are soon to be released about the Iraq War. Here's the letter:

Dear Mr. Corliss:

I’m writing in response to your article printed Saturday, September 01, 2007 entitled “Iraq War Films Focus on Soldiers.” In particular, I’d like to address the final statement of the article, which refers to the final images of the films and the message they display: “We need help…when we can no longer help ourselves.” Your article, along with In the Valley of Elah and Redacted, makes the claim that because of America’s presence in Iraq, we have destroyed the lives of hundreds of thousands of individuals, ruined our reputation throughout the world, caused the “toxic inflammation” of the entire Middle East, and continue to recklessly endanger U.S. soldiers’ physical and mental health, all for a cause that provides neither the opportunity to “kill the enemy or have sex with the local ladies” (which was apparently the reason for sending soldiers to fight in World Wars I and II). The only thing to do now, according to the article and the final images displayed in the films, is to raise the American flag upside-down, signaling our utter helplessness in the situation. What I would like to suggest is that we can help ourselves! We can end the atrocities that war inevitably brings! But the rabid anti-American propaganda put out in these films makes it much more difficult.

We should be making films that present the successes in Iraq, the heroism of our soldiers, and the courage of the Iraqi people. Of course, this might be seen as a type of propaganda as well, designed to keep the public in a state of ignorance, and as worthy to be condemned as anti-America propaganda, if it weren’t true. But the fact is, there are good things happening in Iraq. In fact, I have a brother-in-law serving there now as a nurse in a hospital built by the Americans, and every week, he’s happy to report about another Iraqi citizen who’s been treated and cured in the state-of-the-art facility – an opportunity that certainly did not exist before we came to the country. Stories like these abound, and if filmmakers would present these positive stories, would it not serve everyone better than presenting the atrocities? You might argue, “No! It wouldn’t. The surest way to stop the killing is to get the soldiers (whose job it is to kill) out.” And that makes sense. But pragmatically speaking, a premature withdrawal of the troops is unlikely – there’s simply too much at stake now. Ceding a victory to an enemy as ruthless as the terrorists cannot be an option. So logic says: the troops will be allowed to return only after the mission has been accomplished. And reason would suggest that the mission could be accomplished easier if we support it, rather than undermine it.

Of course, there are many people, perhaps even a majority (including yourself, Haggis, and De Palma), who don’t believe in the mission. Obviously, if you don’t believe in the mission then you wouldn’t want to see the successful completion of it. Perhaps I’m taking the quote from your article too seriously. It may have been meant more as an off-color joke than a statement of your belief, but if it is true that you believe soldiers go to war to murder and fornicate, then I can see why you would find it hard to support them. I myself would never want to send people of that ilk off to war.

I, however, espouse the notion that there are noble reasons to go to war, and one of those reasons is found in Warner Brothers’ Three Kings. The premise of the film is especially apt to this conversation, and its themes deal with precisely the same argument: bring the troops home? Or stay and finish the job? The circumstances are slightly different, but not by much. In fact, the film takes place in the same country as the current conflict, and is about what happens to the local Iraqis when the U.S. pulls up its stakes to head home, leaving them in the hands of a ruthless dictator. Ironically enough, Hollywood, in this case, chose to condemn the military for leaving. Now they condemn the military for staying. The point the film makes though is worth some consideration: America’s presence in a volatile country actually helps to stabilize it and make it safer for its citizens.

Some would argue, as does the article, that it’s our presence that as made the nation volatile in the first place. But I find it hard to believe that we could have caused the “toxic inflammation,” of a region that has already been charred black from decades of terrorism and genocide. The list of unwarranted attacks on innocent civilians is almost too long to record. The Munich Olympic Massacre (1972), the bombing of the U.S. Embassy in Beirut (1983), the first World Trade Center bombing (1993), the Khobar Towers bombing in which more than 400 people were either killed or wounded (1996), and of course the horrific events that took place on September 11th, leaving 3,000 people dead, millions mourning, and a world transformed. If anything good came out of that attack, it’s that it woke us up to the truth that terrorism has been raging in the Middle East for years, long before we ever considered sending troops there. Their presence is meant to quell the fire, to prevent the list from getting any longer, and allow the citizens to live freely in relative peace and harmony.

In addition to handling the protection and security of a foreign nation (Iraq in this case), war can serve to protect our own rights and to secure our own safety here at home. It’s a well-known fact that Iran’s president would like to see us wiped off the map, not to mention what he’d like to do with Israel. If his nuclear ambitions were ever realized, the world would be in for some true destruction. Thankfully, due to our decision to take the battle to the terrorists, his resources have been tied up, and the possibility of an attack at home is more unlikely. The same goes for other terrorists and terrorist organizations in the region; taking the war to them prevents them from bringing it to us, as they did on September 11. Granted, this is speculation. Who’s to say that an independent cell of terrorists, or even “home-grown” terrorists won’t just decide on their own to make war on our soil? There’s nothing the troops in Iraq can do about the cells within our own borders. So wouldn’t it be safer for America to bring the troops home? To that, I would say that the threat of the terrorist organizations in the Middle East is far more grave than the threat of the cells at home. As we’ve seen from recent arrests in London and in Florida and Canada, the local law enforcement and intelligence agencies are well equipped to handle the plots at home.

Apart from liberating a people from the fetters of a dictatorship, spreading the light of Democracy, and protecting our own nation from further attacks, the troops serve to protect those “inalienable rights” that have been preserved by the blood of so many courageous soldiers of the past. It might be naïve to think that those rights are at stake. In fact, I would concede that it’s unrealistic to believe that our country would be taken over by these people, and that we’d have to surrender our rights to them, except for the fact that our soldiers are there preventing it. Historically though, that’s what it would have meant. To the victor go the spoils! Our troops are there to see that there’s no chance of that ever happening.

I believe that it’s these and other values that inspire thousands of young men to volunteer to enter the force. It’s truly disheartening and disgusting, tragic, that something as horrific as what is portrayed in Redacted occurred at the hands of our own troops. As you said in your article, that kind of action is expected from jihadists, but when it happens in the American armed forces, we must ask why. I have no problem with that. In fact, I agree. But there’s a world of difference between asking why something like this could have happened and presenting it as somehow indicative of the way our troops behave or an inevitable consequence of a war such as this. It’s neither!

In every barrel of apples, there’s bound to be a few with bruises. In a barrel that contains as many soldiers as the U.S. military, there are bound to be some rotten ones. And that’s why this happened. There were some truly rotten apples in the batch, and I don’t think it goes much farther than that. The vast majority of our soldiers have volunteered their time – surrendered their lives – to see to it that these poor Iraqi citizens, who have been through more than you or I could imagine, be given the chance to live a life according to the dictates of their own conscience. They’re there to prevent war from coming to this nation, and to protect our God-given rights. While thousands of lives have been lost, hundreds of thousands have been saved, and future generations will have hope where hope has never existed. It’s a shame that so much effort is being spent in Hollywood to undermine that, because of the actions of a few bad apples.

During WWII, Hollywood took a much different approach. In films such as Freedom Comes High, It’s Everybody’s War, Ring of Steel, and Baptism of Fire, just to name a few, American soldiers were saluted and citizens were inspired to sacrifice for the war effort. In his article “Hollywood Goes to War,” Clayton R. Koppes relates some of the morale-building scenes that graced the silver screen during that time. “A marine, having just dispatched a horde of treacherous Japanese attackers, pauses to utter a paean to democracy. A young mother, newly widowed when her husband was killed in combat, chokes back the tears and tells her infant son that daddy died so he could have a better future. A Norwegian town rises up as one against Nazi terror…” Admittedly, from today’s perspective, these films seem quaint and even manipulative, and they provoke us to ask why Hollywood would bother with such rote prototypes. The answer is simple: Hollywood wanted to boost the war effort! They knew, as De Palma noted in your article, that pictures move people. “Pictures are what will stop the war,” says De Palma. If that’s true, then the reverse must be true also. Pictures are what will win the war! Imagine if Hollywood had been hell-bent on giving the American audience a look at what WWII was really like! The images that could have been compiled from a single front of that war would make Iraq seem like nothing more than a schoolyard brawl. Public support would have most certainly waned, and outrage increased. All the efforts made to conserve resources at home, and to devote time and energy to the support of the military would have been hindered, and we may well have lost! And not because we couldn’t have won. Thankfully, Hollywood knew the power of pictures, and chose to use them in an inspiring and positive way.

I don’t think filmmakers ought to abandon their beliefs and their standards in order to support a cause they don’t believe in. So it’s hard to say that they shouldn’t make these films. Perhaps a better answer can be found in the Viet Nam war movie model. During that war, public support wasn’t nearly as strong as it was during WWII, which is certainly the case now as well. But as Emily Friedman points out in her article “Iraq War Comes to the Silver Screen,” during the conflict in Viet Nam, “…the Hollywood machine waited for two or three years [to release movies].” Despite their discontent and outrage over the war, filmmakers chose to show a little more discretion and give a little more respect to the soldiers fighting the war.

Whether you support the Iraq War or not, we’re there, and making films while we’re there about how terrible America is and how barbaric our soldiers are only serves to endanger their lives, cut down their morale, embolden the enemy, and tarnish the image of America, which is believed to be tarnished by our administration’s foreign policy. I was living in Ukraine when the news was announced that we had declared war in Iraq, and I saw first-hand how that decision negatively affected people’s opinion of our country. I don’t dispute that our image has been tarnished in some regions. But then again, when I look at the recent elections of pro-Western/pro-American candidates in Ukraine, Germany, France, and other countries around the world, it makes me think that our image really hasn’t been as tarnished as the media makes it out to be. Rather, there are individual citizens in all countries around the world, including America, who disagree with our policies, and they are not afraid to make their voice heard. I would say (believing in De Palma’s assertion that pictures are what really move people) the films that he and his fellow filmmakers are producing “trash” our nation’s reputation more than our foreign policy decisions.

And so I ask the question, respecting your beliefs and your genuine disdain for the atrocities of this war, would it not be more beneficial to make a film praising the troops for their courage, supporting the founding principles of this nation, inspiring support from the people at home, and improving our image abroad? Would that not help to end this war sooner, thereby allowing the troops to come home?

We can help ourselves. The pictures are what can stop this war if the pictures help to win.

Sincerely,
Douglas W. Bailey

Autocracy Then and Now

“Russia’s revolutionary movements at the end of the tsarist regimes produced political values, beliefs, and symbols that formed not only the foreign policy of the time, but shaped the foreign policy of the Soviet period, and even live on today by virtue of their importance in the current leadership of democratic Russia” (Donaldson 37). This is most certainly a compelling statement to make, considering the implications it has regarding Russia’s current government, led by the one and only Vladimir Vladimirovich.

If the beliefs, values, and symbols that were produced by the revolutionaries then live on today, it’s of critical importance to study those beliefs, values, and symbols. According to Donaldson and Nogee, the main feature of the environment produced by those revolutionaries was AUTOCRACY: unrestrained political power in the hands of the tsar, wielded through a strong centralized bureaucracy and augmented by a secret police, and an economy and social order controlled by the state. I automatically tried to make that connection with Putin, and if I go along with the media, it’s not too far off to say that those tendencies still exist in Russia. Of course, I am generally wary of what I learn from the media, especially when I haven’t done a lot research on my own first. So I decided to reach back into the recesses of my mind to see if some of my experiences in the Ukraine would corroborate the claim. I immediately thought of the elections of ’04, the push to get Yanukovich elected, and the plot to poison Yushenko. I then thought about some of the other “autonomous” republics of the former Soviet Union, and the leaders that have been in power there for years and years, and combined that with the knowledge that Putin now appoints regional governors in Russia (as opposed to letting them be elected), and realized that “unrestrained political power” still exists, to a degree. If the accusations of all the poisonings are true, as well as the mysterious deaths of numerous journalists, then it’s clear that this power is augmented by a secret police force. I personally don’t know much about Russia’s economy and how much control the State has over it, but because the first two claims seem to be accurate, I’m willing to accept the third as well.

This is all somewhat troubling to me, and would probably be even more troubling if I weren’t in my safe little bubble in the Land of the Free. As it stands now, I live my life, reading an occasional blurb online about another mysterious death here, another power-grab there, and hope that my friends in Ukraine can continue pushing their slow trek West, leaving the Kremlin behind.

Roots in Cali

I just wanted to let you all know, if you didn't know already, that Frannie and I took a trip up to Ventura, California, a town about 60 miles north of L.A., and just south of Santa Barbara. We recently found out that we've got some relatives up there, and as you can see in the pictures, the relative is most certainly a McIntosh! His name is Duane, and he's the 8th of twelve, and in my opinion, the one who looks more like Mimms than any other (of the ones I've met anyway). His hearing isn't doing so well, which is apparently part-hereditary and part-result of working with those loud tractors on the farm in Burlington, so we to speak very loudly to communicate. At first, I thought he had kind of a nasty wife, because she kept yelling at him like he was dumb or something. But when he told us he broke his hearing aid a while back, I realized that Rita was neither mean nor condescending. She's actually very sweet, and also very British.

They met when Duane was send over to England during the Korean War. He was actually supposed to go to Korea, but his dad asked for a leave of absence for a few weeks to come help with the farm, and when his leave was up, there was no longer a need for him to go to Korea. So he went to London instead! And there, he found his Sweetheart. When he was sent home, the army gave him a small amount of money to get from Chicago to Wyoming. Duane decided to send that money to Rita in London to take a ship over to America, and Duane hitchhiked back to Burlington. His brothers and father and mother told him it was an idiodic thing to do, and that he'd never see that girl or the money again. I guess they didn't know how much the two loved each other. She came and she stayed, and they seem as happy now as they ever were.

We saw some pictures of their wedding, and in those pictures we saw a cute little flower girl about three years old, fiery red hair (you could tell it was red despite it being black & white), and a grin that made us all smile. It was Nanna, no question about it. In 50 years, the hair and grin, the sparkling eyes haven't changed a bit.

Duane, by the way, has that same grin, and he wears it on his face perpetually, especially when we hopped in the Chrystler convertible and headed up the California coast to Ojai, a small town on the edge of the Pacific. With the wind in our hair and the sun on our backs, Duane smiled and told us the history of Ventura, pointing out landmarks along the way - including Johnny Cash's famous estate nestled in the hills. We also listened to smiling stories about Mimms coming out to visit with Trudy, reunions in Burlington, vacations to England, Italy, Turkey, and a tale of one James Yorgason (my great-great-great grandfather), a polygamist, who came to Los Angeles to escape the government's persecution, and built the largest pigeon farm in America just a few hundred yards away from where Dodgers Stadium stands today.

Knowing about 'ol James, Duane, and the fact that my Grandpa Bailey came out here to work cattle and cook for the USC football team, makes living out here that much more comfortable. For the longest time, I thought Fran and I were the only ones. But the roots have been here for a long time, and now I know that I've simply been grafted in.

The Day of This Life

I'm listening to a conference discussion between a structured settlement expert, a "special needs" trust lawyer, my co-counsel and Gene and Kori Corson. We are talking about what to do with Cledi's money if we are successful tomorrow in settling her case. She is such a beautiful little girl, but her brain was destroyed at birth. She can't see or eat or move or speak. She can't hug her parents or watch cartoons or run and play with her puppy. She never will. And yet she is adorable. And then I read about the Buffalo Bills reserve tight end, 25 years old, who will probably never walk again. Healthy and strong and playing the game he loved, and then a moment later, lying lifeless on the turf. He may not live. His family and friends must be suffering so today. This afternoon Sister Burmeister's trial begins. She is charge with vehicular homicide for killing two men on the Torrington Highway following a seminary fireside two years ago. One man had hit a deer in the highway and was down. Aother stopped to help. It was dark and Sister Burmeister didn't see them until it was too late. My heart just aches for all these people and I don't even know the football player. "No man is an island, entire of itself. Any man's death diminishes me." I think back on little Michael Nicoli, who died of a brain tumor when he was only 6. I was his Bishop. I don't remember crying so hard.

We are so blessed to have the Gospel of Christ, which gives us understanding and purpose and peace. It anchors our lives to that which is most important and most enduring. I am thankful to Heavenly Father for each of you. I am thankful that each of you has been blessed with good health and strength. I am thankful that you were able to run and jump and play as children, and swim and sing, and dress up in costumes and drink milkshakes and eat popcorn, and that we could watch movies together and laugh and open presents on Christmas morning. I am so thankful that I get to see you now and talk to you and watch you continue your journey through life. No, we haven't achieved all our dreams. Yes, there have been disappointments and setbacks. BUT, we have each other. We have the Gospel. And we have this day. It doesn't get any better than that.

I love you all. I love my amazing grandchildren and their mothers, and the mothers to be!!! I am humbled at God's goodness and these gifts of His in my life.

I hope and pray we can all live to be worthy of these blessings and that we each will offer the best service we can give in His Kingdom, not out of duty, but out of gratitude and love.

With love,

dad

Big Waves

That’s a great story, Hindu. One for the books. I’m glad you’re safe and sound.

Anyway, hopefully this stressful madness will calm down a bit for you so you can have a wonderful, joyous end to your mission. If not, then I guess it’ll be a wonderful, TRYING end to you mission, which is sometimes better. I know we had many more trying times in Ukraine than joyful, and yet a day doesn’t go by in my life when I don’t think about how amazing Ukraine was. So either way, it’ll be worth it.

Yesterday for Labor Day, we went to Dockweiller Beach, the sickest, dirtiest beach in all of California. It was chosen because you’re allowed to have fire pits and BBQ’s there (which is probably also why it’s sickest and dirtiest). Anyway, we made use of the BBQ aspect and had some killer dogs and brats. But the best thing about the whole day was the MASSIVE waves that were pounding the shore. In all my years out here, I’ve never seen waves that big and terrifying. So, what did I do? I rallied the troops (including the brave and beautiful Frannie), and we all went out and battled the onslaught of crashing waves for over an hour. It was exhilarating, intimidating, exhausting, and also refreshing! I actually had the gall to try and catch some of the waves on my little boogie board, and man alive! i’ve NEVER had such a rush! There you are, ten feet above everyone on shore, looking down as steep a decline as those giant white slides at WaterWorld, and you dig your hands into the water and propel yourself over the edge of the wave, just as it comes curling over, and WHOOSH!, you ride down the steep face like lighting, the white crashing behind you…

It’s fantastic.

I recommend it to all of you. Come out to California. We’ll ride waves together.

Love,
Douglas Bailey

PS after that, we went to a movie (Transformers – wretched) and then went to eat at Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles. The chicken tasted just like Grandma Shanor’s fried chicken, and the waffles are out of this world. And we also saw Floyd Mayweather Jr. with his crew walk into the joint.

PPS All in all, it was a good Labor Day.

Good Times

Of all the adventures Frannie and I have had together, this one was certainly one of the most exciting. After getting our car window bashed in the night before in San Francisco and my laptop and thousands of CD's stolen, along with my favorite jeans and boat shoes, we decided to fork over the $40.00 it costed to park in the structure beneath the hotel. I guess that's what it took for us to realize that paying for parking might actually be worth something.
Anyway, once the car was safe, we went out on the town with Brian and Jennifer, visiting for one of Jen's nationwide choir tours. We went to the wharf and got some chowder in a bread bowl, some fresh crab, and other goodies. We went to the pier to look at the sunbathing sea lions. We took the famous Rice-a-Roni trolley at least three times through the entire city. We went to Ghiradelli Square. We had a ball. But all of that was nothing compared to the drive home wtih Fran, the windows down (having been bashed in the night before), the wind blowing through our hair, forests and farmland to our left, the Pacific Coast to our right... it was beautiful! It was wonderful! But I must say, four hours to drive from Frisco to San Jose simply wasn't cutting it. So we hopped on the 5 and took that ugly stretch of cement the rest of the way to L.A. Beautiful L.A...