Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Utah Sheriffs -- Tea Party Spouts

        You know Joe Arpaio -- Maricopa (Arizona) County sheriff, older than dirt, makes the news by making inmates wear pink jumpsuits and claiming President Obama's certificate is forged.  Yeah.  That guy.  And you know Jan Brewer -- Arizona governor, wags her finger in the President's face, rails against his health care plan for months before supporting it.  Yeah.  That . . . woman.

        Last week the Utah Sheriffs' Association tipped its hat to both Brewer and Arpaio in an open letter to President Obama.  The Sheriffs "pray that the Almighty will inspire the People's Representatives collectively" as they "grapple with the complex issue of firearms regulation.  For that reason, it is imperative this discussion be had in Congress, not silenced by executive orders.  [P]lease remember the founders of this great nation created the Constitution, and its accompanying Bill of Rights, to protect its citizens from all forms of tyrannical subjugation."

       Typical Tea Party finger food so far -- but a tea party isn't a real tea party without empty threats backed up by empty threats of force.  Neither is Obama baiting, which is always the entertainment portion of any real tea party anyway.  The Utah Sheriffs touch all those bases in the next and concluding paragraph of their letter:

        "We respect the Office of the President of the United States of America.  But, make no mistake, as the duly-elected sheriffs of our respective counties, we will enforce the right of the citizens guaranteed by the Constitution.  No federal official will be permitted to descend upon our constituents what the Bill of Rights -- in particular Amendment II -- has given them.  We, like you, swore a solemn oath to protect and defend the constitution of the United States and we are prepared to trade our lives for the preservation of its traditional interpretation."

        Joe Arpaio and Jan Brewer would be proud.

        So would Brigham Young, who led the Mormon Immigration (Utah was Mexican territory when the Mormons arrived in 1847) to Utah.  The whole point was to get away from the United States, its Government, and their courts that applied man's law instead of God's -- then set up the "Kingdom of God," a Mormon theocracy.  Young christened his first settlement "Great Salt Lake City, Great Basin, North America." The Utah Sheriffs Association would be proud.

        Young either was appointed the first governor of the Utah Territory or so appointed himself by decree to Congress in 1849.  It's complicated.  So was Young's tenure as governor, throughout which he moonlighted as Prophet, Seer and Revelator to Mormons.  Young had no identity crisis when it came to balancing church and state. "We must have the Kingdom of God, or nothing.  We are not to be overthrown," he decreed.

        Things got really tense in 1857, when Young got word that President Buchanan was sending a new governor out to replace him -- along with 1,500 troops to ensure a smooth transition.  The Government was taking over Utah, Kingdom of God and all.

        Young imposed martial law and sealed the borders.  He also forbade "in the name of the People of the United States in the Territory of Utah, all armed forces, of every description, from coming into this Territory under any pretence whatever." He directed "that all forces in said Territory hold themselves in readiness to march, at a moment’s notice, to repel any and all such threatened invasion."

        Summit County Sheriff David Edmunds would be proud.  Summit County has about 30,000 residents.  Its largest city is Park City -- home of the 2002 Winter Olympics, the Sundance Film Festival and a tourism economy that would seem reticent to get involved in gun politics.  Its biggest law enforcement issues are drunk driving, search and rescue, and soccer moms parking in the red zone in front of the Post Office -- which is a lousy federal building, anyway.

        Edmunds finds time to serve as the Utah Sheriffs' Association's president and be the catalyst behind its letter to the President.  He isn't saying that any of the President Obama's executive orders to date addressing guns and ammo are unconstitutional or even tyrannical. "We acknowledge that that hasn't happened yet, but all that we're hearing from the Obama Administration and their surrogates, we believe that they are trying to make a grab at guns," Edmunds claims.

        "We are prepared to trade our lives in defense of the constitution of the United States.  We would never want violence to be the alternative.  We would always hope we could talk this out but it's important to make this very significant stand as it relates to these issues because they are very fundamental to the freedoms we enjoy in this country."

        So the letter is a stand -- and a "very significant one," at that.  The Utah Sheriffs don't really want to tee it up with guys who shoot Osama bin Laden through the eye.  They just say they're down -- if there's no alternative.

        Still, everybody knows it'll never come to another Waco.  The Sheriffs can invoke solemn oaths to God all they like, but they're infidels next to David Koresh.  They're also eminently rational by comparison, all things being relative.  They talk the extremist talk, but they'll never walk the extremist walk because they're not as extreme as they profess.  They also know that Barack Hussein Obama isn't going to "grab their guns" -- thanks to vigilant patriots like themselves.

        So, at the end of the day the Utah Sheriffs are just spouting off -- and they know it.  This makes them like Joe Arpaio, Jan Brewer and any of many keepers of the Tea Party torch that always keeps the kettle simmering.  They blow off steam by wagging fingers at the President and sending him finger-wagging letters.  Again, it's entertainment for the Party.  It's also craven pandering to the basest of political bases.

        Still, sheriffs enforce the laws that the "People's Representatives" who are elected to make law make.  The Utah Sheriffs coyly but clearly try to slide themselves into legislative status, tossing out rhetorical smoke bombs like being "duly-elected" officials looking out for their "constituents." But when the smoke clears, the y're openly declaring that they will not enforce laws they consider unconstitutional -- even those passed by the actual legislators that the Sheriffs' consistutents actually elected, presumably.

        Though the Utah Sheriffs express particular concern for the Second Amendment, their letter also leaves them room to not enforce any other laws they deem unconstitutional.  You have to ask with which other laws they disagree.  And what about their deputies?  Do they decide individually which laws are constitutional, or do they just agree with the intepretations of the County Sheriff who's their boss?  Will the Sheriffs give their deputies a chance to defect to America if "talking it out" doesn't work, or is taking a bullet for the Utah Sheriffs' Association now part of being a deputy sheriff in Utah?  How will the Sheriffs inform their "constituents" which specific laws will not be enforced?  How will Utah residents keep track of which laws are constitutional in which Utah county?

        Speaking of Utah residents, did their duly-elected sheriffs broach their views about law enforcement's role as lawmakers while they were campaigning?  Did the Sheriffs' "constituents" have any idea that they'd write an open letter to the President under the auspices of their offices and oaths?

        The Utah Sheriffs' letter is a call to arms for a police state written by police.  They play Democratic Process Dress-Up, but they still contemplate all power being consolidated in the police.  They also apparently contemplate repelling the Government's troops or agents with the Government's own body armor and guns.  It's like Rick Perry hating the Government yet wanting to be President.

        "Talk it out"?  We are talking about gun control.  Utah's Sheriffs have standing to participate in that discussion -- as private citizens.  Contrary to their letter's central premise, they have no standing as legislators to "talk it out" with the President.

        Besides, what's there to "talk out" anyway?  It's hard enough to have a dialogue with someone who started the dialgoue with ultimatums.  It's even harder when the same person insists they're just being patriots, not issuing ultimatums.  Besides, the Sheriffs have already told us that they won't enforce any laws they deem unconstitutional, and they'll trade their lives to protect their "traditional interpretations" of the Bill of Rights.

        Since there's nothing to talk out, we can only wait for the Revolution and see if the United States once again keeps Utah in the United States.  I'll be the one cheering loudest when a smart bomb takes out the rebel leader Dave Edmunds and the Utah Sheriffs' Association's command post -- assuming that "talking it out" doesn't persuade the Government to just leave Utah to the Kingdom of God's Sheriffs.

        Until then, I'll take comfort that I live in Salt Lake County -- whose sheriff, Jim Winder, is the only one in Utah who did not sign off on the letter to President Obama.  And until then, Utah's 28 other county sheriffs are nothing more or less than Tea Party spouts.

Friday, January 18, 2013

You Can't Take the Mormon Out of Manti

        Manti Te'o's phantom girlfriend and her (un)timely death from leukemia evoke the scene in Fargo in which Marge Gunderson meets her old high school classmate Mike Yamagita for lunch.  Mike tells Marge that he married their mutual classmate, Linda Cooksey, who died of leukemia.  Their meeting is awkward in many aspects, but even more so in retrospect when Marge learns that Linda is alive, was never sick and was never married to Mike Yamagita.  Quite to the contrary, he'd been stalking Linda for years.

        Manti Te'o's phantom girlfriend also evokes Elder Paul H. Dunn -- if you grew up Mormon in the 80s, anyway.  Since you probably didn't, Elder Dunn was in the Top 100 of the Mormon hierarchy (that's the "Elder" part) and particularly popular among Mormon youth and their parents, who bought stacks of his faith-promoting cassettes and books.

        Elder Dunn was so popular because he had so many entertaining faith-promoting stories.  Anyone older than 40 who grew up Mormon remembers him playing for the St. Louis Cardinals in the World Series -- but his miraculous survival at the Battle of Guadalcanal was most kids' favorite.  The Japanese had Elder Dunn's platoon pinned down.  It was either a hundred-yard dash through crossfire or death.  Elder Dunn's canteen, ammo belt and right boot were shot off.  A bullet cleaved his helmet in half but did not knock it off his head. Everyone else in the platoon was killed. "Dunn, you are so gosh-darned lucky," Elder Dunn's sergeant was said to have said.

        Elder Dunn turned out to be a gosh-darned liar.  In 1991, reporters who didn't even have the Internet ascertained that he never played major league baseball.  He did play Rookie League, a step below "A" ball.  He also fought on Okinawa, but none of the survivors from Dunn's units remembered being stationed on Guadalcanal.  Or Iwo Jima.  Nobody corroborated Dunn's desperate sprint through Japanese machine-gun fire.  Elder Dunn's best friend did not die in his arms or make him vow to teach patriotism to the Church's youth before he gave up the proverbial ghost.

        Elder Dunn admitted that not all his homespun homilies featuring himself as the protagonist were completely accurate -- but they were intended to be faith-promoting allegories, like Jesus's parables.  They didn't have to be factually "accurate" to be faith-promoting.  He had a point there, but Mormon consumers spoke with their proverbial wallets.  Elder Dunn's career as a Mormon motivational speaker was done.  The Church kicked him sideways or downstairs to emeritus status in its hierarchy.

        I'm not sure which I did first Wednesday night -- compare Manti Te'o to Mike Yamagita and Elder Paul H. Dunn or conclude that he was complicit at some level and point in the hoax.  It all happened in seconds.  If you're reading this piece you're following the Manti Te'o story.  My bases for deciding he perpetuated the hoax at some level and point are the same as those of other people who similarly conclude.

        Beyond that, I decided right away that Manti Te'o perpetuated the hoax at some point and level because he is a devout Mormon.  I admit it.  I don't know Te'o, but I know he's devout.  He says he is.  He's not only from Hawai'i, which has a vibrant Mormon community with a particularly Polynesian flavor.  He's from Laie, which is also home to Brigham Young University-Hawai'i, which is not to be confused with BYU-Provo or BYU-Idaho (Rexburg).  It's like being from Provo, Hawai'i.

        Te'o's parents are devout Mormons, too.  "Manti" is a city in the Book of Mormon.  Giving your child a Book of Mormon name is the Mormon equivalent of giving your child a Biblical name.  If you're from Utah, you associate Manti Te'o with Manti, Utah, a real town about 20 miles south of Moroni.  Like Manti Te'o, it's named after a make-believe city populated by make-believe people of a make-believe race featured in a make-believe book.

        If you're a Non-Mormon in Utah, you can't miss the connection to Manti Teo's make-believe girlfriend.  You also can't miss Mormonism's contribution to the saga.  This is true whether Te'o was a stooge, a co-conspirator, or anything in between.

        Mormons are more trusting than most people.  They share a religious mythology as unique and robust as any other.  It's not just Joseph Smith's accounts of visits from God and Jesus or the Book of Mormon's provenance.  There's the Three Nephites, Book of Mormon prophets who were so righteous that God has allowed them to remain on Earth.  Though they would now be around 2,500 years old, the Three Nephites can assume any form, like the Agents in The Matrix.  They're three Mormon super-heroes -- rescuing children from irrigation canals, fixing flat tires, and performing all kinds of other good deeds that total strangers sometimes perform.  They work solo, as a duo or a trio -- but they always vanish without a trace.  In fact, that's how you know for sure they were the Three Nephites.

        People who believe in the Three Nephites and all kinds of other people that never existed and history that never happened are more likely to believe they're in love with a woman they've never met.  That covers how Teo's strong Mormon background contributed to him being a victim, if that's what he is.

        Now for how Mormonism would be more likely to produce a person who concocts or complies with a conspiracy to mislead people about a girlfriend dying of leaukemia.  Mormon mythology doesn't just make Mormons more susceptible to cons of any inspirational stripe.  It compromises their ability to distinguish reality from alternative reality.  Some seem to lose interest in making the distinction, period.  Empiricism is usually pedestrian and rarely faith-promoting.  Explanations, proof and accountability can always come later.  They will.  So don't worry.

        For now, anything that promotes your faith or was even intended to must be positive.  Kill the messenger?  Are you kidding?  They're already lionized, elevated to several pedestals above reproach.  That's what makes their message faith-promoting in the first place.  It becomes no less so just because it also sells the messenger's books, saves them from tremendous embarrassment or puts them on a path to join the Gipper and Four Horsemen in the pantheon of Notre Dame football immortals.

        The message doesn't even have to be accurate to be faith-promoting, as we know from Elder Dunn on down.  Even if it isn't, nobody's admitting that anybody lied.  If some details got lost in translation, they're not central to the faith-promoting story.  Besides, nobody got hurt.  To the contrary, their faith was promoted.  Elder Dunn still inspired a lot of young people to believe in the Church and patriotism.  Manti Te'o still inspired a lot of people to feel good about the Church and Notre Dame football.
       
        You can't take Manti out of Mormon -- and you can't take the Mormon out of Manti.