Creative Criticality

It started like any other Tuesday. I had to be at the University of Utah in Salt Lake City by 7:30 for class, and that meant joining the fray with every other commuter who fought the non-stop rush of cars from Davis County to the capitol.   Up early, showered, and fed, I ventured into the temperate September air along the Wasatch Front. The drive was uneventfully normal along the I-15 corridor as I hit 100 South and started east toward the campus, the Todd and Erin morning show playing on the radio.

At about 6:45, Todd and Erin returned from a song to some breaking news: a small twin-engine plane had just flown into the World Trade Center. While I was amazed, I wasn’t too terribly concerned, but I remember hoping that no one was hurt too badly. Minutes later, the story changed. It wasn’t a small Cessna-like plane... it was a commercial airliner.

I reached the university and waited a few minutes before walking to the Naval Sciences building to start my navigation class, but no further news came. When I got to the boxy two-story building, I checked my mailbox – every NROTC midshipman had one to deliver important messages from the battalion – and went upstairs to get ready for class. Once I crossed the threshold, I found the speculation in full gear. Our instructor gave permission to listen to the radio while we worked on our assignment, and that’s when we got the full details.

I remember the sense of fear I had, coupled with anger and frustration. I will admit that I was angry at all Muslims at that point, but that was before I fully understood the details about extremism and terrorism. I now understand, nine years later, that my anger was misdirected. I never acted on those emotions, and I am glad I didn’t. I also am happy that I was able to learn about another complexity in the human tapestry.

In the immediate aftermath, Americans were buoyed up as a single voice under the call to action based on revenge. For every question of “where were you when the world stopped turning,” there was a yell to kick some ass because it’s the “American way.” New legislation that was supposed to protect national security and make us more safe ended up biting back with illegal wiretaps and tracking of born and raised American citizens who had no intention of betraying the red, white, and blue. Now we stand divided amongst ourselves and listening to the screaming voices who still believe that all Muslims stand allied in favor of the actions of extremists.

The scenes nine years ago were certainly shocking and game-changing, but I firmly believe that we should stand together against those who would do us harm, not against a category of people who had no more to do with the attacks than I did. “Patriot Day,” which in my opinion needs to be re-named, should be a day of solemn reflection, not political grandstanding.

I honor those who sacrificed their health or lives in efforts to rescue the fallen. I honor those who sacrificed their lives to prevent United Flight 93 from impacting in Washington, DC. I honor those who were killed in the impacts of American Airlines Flight 11, American Airlines Flight 77, and United Airlines Flight 175. I honor those who died in the aftermath.

I honor those who fight to defend our freedom from those who would take it. I honor those who practice tolerance in the name of those freedoms in lieu of allowing hatred and bigotry to rule their actions. I honor those who rise above petty politics and divisive labels to ensure our freedom persists and help to heal our wounds.

I honor those who remind us that we are all members of the human race, despite our color, religion, sexuality, gender, or other factors are used to divide us.

Above all, I vow to never forget.

Originally submitted and posted on September 16, 2008 in response to the September 12, 2008 episode of The ForceCast

Jason, Pete, Jimmy, and the crew,

On the September 12 show, you asked for opinions about Jar Jar Binks, and I’d like to share mine with you.

In the movies, Jar Jar is portrayed as a bumbling idiot and an outcast in his society. He’s a klutz and responsible for making an annoyance of himself in Otoh Gunga in a vain attempt to fit in. Why do I love him? Because I personally identify with him. Jar Jar Binks in 1999 is me in 1999, when I was getting ready to graduate high school.

Jar Jar was in the wrong place at the wrong time, looking for breakfast when the Trade Federation invaded Naboo. He was confused by the goings-on around him, not sure why giant vehicles are plowing through his home, and not sure why some arrogant off-worlders are pushing him around. The thing is that Jar Jar Binks is pure of heart, even if he’s somewhat dim intellectually. He offers what he has, quite selflessly, and tries his best to help with the search for a hyperdrive and the Battle of Naboo, even if the tasks are well beyond his capabilities.

Later, as we know, he becomes a senator for Naboo, is bullied by Palpatine into declaring a state of emergency, and is the catalyst for the Clone Wars and the Purges. The reason he was selected by Palpatine is that he was a target of opportunity.

Star Wars fans don’t like him because he talks strangely, is somewhat slow, and not what we expect from the other street-smart characters in the saga. I identify with him because he is so willing to help out if given the chance, even if it is clumsily. I embrace the diversity that Jar Jar brings to the Saga’s table because he isn’t the same character as any random Jedi or smuggler.

To think that fans would shun this character because he is different than the norm saddens me, because wonder what they would think of any person who is clumsy, mentally challenged, but pure of heart. If they are willing to throw away the Gungans, or even one character for this, then do the fans have the grasp on diversity that we give them credit for?

While Jar Jar Binks is far from my favorite, I find him to be one of the strongest characters in the Star Wars universe. He may not have the Force, and he may not be good in a firefight, but he is like the focus of the Saga, Anakin Skywalker, in his purity of heart and passion to do the right thing.

I have grown and matured in many ways since the release of The Phantom Menace, but I still admire Jar Jar Binks for doing the best with what he had to offer the galaxy. He’s not a racist, and he’s not annoying; Jar Jar is a test of our acceptance for what others have to offer, which is the same lesson Qui-Gon tried to teach Obi-Wan. I hope we can learn the same lesson.
 

A lot of fans are basically fans of fandom itself. It's all about them. They have mastered the "Star Wars" or "Star Trek" universes or whatever, but their objects of veneration are useful mainly as a backdrop to their own devotion. Anyone who would camp out in a tent on the sidewalk for weeks in order to be first in line for a movie is more into camping on the sidewalk than movies.

Extreme fandom may serve as a security blanket for the socially inept, who use its extreme structure as a substitute for social skills. If you are Luke Skywalker and she is Princess Leia, you already know what to say to each other, which is so much safer than having to ad-lib it. Your fannish obsession is your beard. If you know absolutely all the trivia about your cubbyhole of pop culture, it saves you from having to know anything about anything else. That's why it's excruciatingly boring to talk to such people: They're always asking you questions they know the answer to.

[Fanboys] is a celebration of an idiotic lifestyle, and I don't think it knows it.

"...The Legion is a volunteer club formed for the express purpose of bringing together costume enthusiasts and giving them a collective identity within which to operate. The Legion's aims are to celebrate the Star Wars movies through the wearing of costumes, to promote the quality and improvement of costumes and props, and most importantly to contribute to the local community through charity and volunteer work..."

"Fanboys" is an amiable but disjointed movie that identifies too closely with its heroes. Poking a little more fun at them would have been a great idea. They are tragically hurtling into a cultural dead end, mastering knowledge which has no purpose other than being mastered, and too smart to be wasting their time.
When a movie's opening day finally comes, and fanboys leave their sidewalk tents for a mad dash into the theater, I wonder who retrieves their tents, sleeping bags, portable heaters and iPod speakers. Warning: Mom isn't always going to be there to clean up after you.

Provocative quote of the day, courtesy of Lieutenant Colonel Jay Stout, USMC, retired:
“My Air Force compadres, darn them, did such a great job of engaging the Iraqi fighters as they got airborne that I doubt an Iraqi aircraft got within 50 miles of a Marine Corps aircraft. So we had to satisfy ourselves with tearing up forces on the ground.”

I heard it on “Remembering The First Gulf War, 20 Years On” on NPR’s Talk of the Nation.  While it’s definitely Marine-speak, I wonder if certain people should never be allowed in front of a microphone in public forum.  Listening to it, I'm sure LtCol Stout meant it humorously, but the joke fell flat.  He tried a couple of other bits of military humor, but what some of my friends in uniform fail to realize is that civilians don't understand it.  Unless you've experienced it, most military humor feels barbaric at worst.

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In other news, my brain’s working overtime on another story idea. Yes, brain, I’m listening.

Creative Progress Ticker

Perdition's Progeny:  Outlining -- (no change)
Pro Patria:  45,077 words -- (first draft) (no change)
Bhriar's Blade:  Outlining -- (no change)

Elemental:  Researching -- (no change)

Project Ark:  Concept -- (no change)

Project John:  Concept -- (no change)

Project Recursive:  Concept -- (no change)

Project Christmas:  Concept -- (no change)

Project Democ: Concept -- (added)