The American Dream

During a recent interview concerning “the American dream”, President Obama bemoaned the societal shift from aspiring to a good job and a good home to seeking the ubiquitous celebrity excesses appearing on television. Further elaborating on the point he said, “Kids weren't monitoring every day what Kim Kardashian was wearing, or where Kanye West was going on vacation, and thinking that somehow that was the mark of success."

This prompted Kim’s mother and manager Kris Jenner to publicly respond by saying “Kim Kardashian is the hardest-working young lady in the world. She never sleeps, she never stops, she never slows down and works so hard for what she's got." 

The absurdity of such a claim, even if it is taken as a hyperbole, validates the very criticism it was meant to repudiate. Your entire business model exists only because your daughter was willing to film herself having sex with a marginally-successful R&B singer and then accept $5 million to allow an adult film company to globally market it. Since then the Kardashian empire has become a self-sustaining enterprise of material excess and televised narcissism that nets its flagship member over $6 million each year while contributing nothing more to society than an obligatory fragrance line and enough reality programming to keep Ryan Seacrest’s accountants busy.

Kim’s 2010 wedding to NBA star Kris Humphries was so well-marketed that she received compensation for allowing the E! network to film it ($15 million) and People Magazine to photograph and announce it ($2.8 million). They kept expenses down by having the wedding dress, wedding cake, invitations, and champagne donated in exchange for publicity. All this and she still managed to release a “wedding fragrance” before filling for a divorce a mere 72 days later. The brevity and profitability of the marriage led many to speculate that it was merely another publicity stunt (a charge Kim denies). There were even a number of gay-rights memes inspired by the nuptials.

The Kardashians were already wealthy before they became a pop-culture phenomenon and while there is nothing inherently wrong with economic security; our infatuation has allowed them to become the type of Americans who can have a discussion about cashmere burp cloths while being financially compensated for allowing us the privilege of witnessing it. To suggest, even for a moment, that participating in this entrepreneurial model is “harder” than working two jobs as a single mother is as insulting as it is delusional. A more correct statement by Mrs. Jenner would have been, “no woman is more adept at commercializing her public persona than my daughter”.

The Messiah

Tennessee resident Jaleesa Martin and her child’s father were unable to agree on whose surname their son should have. Finding themselves at an impasse, they appeared before Cocke County Chancery Court judge Lu Ann Ballew to decide the matter once and for all. To their dismay, Judge Ballew decided that it was the child’s first name that needed her attention and ordered that it be changed from Messiah to Martin.

 

Magistrate Ballew

The judge's reasoning was that, “The word Messiah is a title and it's a title that has only been earned by one person and that one person is Jesus Christ". She further elaborated that due to the area’s large Christian population, the name could “put him at odds with a lot of people and at this point he has had no choice in what his name is”. Jaleesa was shocked that the judge possessed the authority to rename her child on the grounds of religious belief and has vowed to appeal the decision.

While I would never name my child Messiah (or Lu Ann for that matter), doing so does not give a judge the legal right to rename said child. While there may be instances where a representative of the court must infringe parental rights for the well-being of their offspring, this clearly doesn’t cross that threshold. Perhaps if the young man’s first name was “Antichirst” or “Douchelby” the judge should have stepped in. However, in those cases the infant was clearly saddled with a negative moniker meant to convey disdain. If anything, Messiah burdens the child with unrealistically positive expectations.

Generally, a “messiah” is the liberator or savior of a group of people. While the judge may believe that the title was only “earned” by Jesus Christ, it was liberally applied throughout the Old Testament to anointed kings and high priests. Even the Persian king Cyrus received the title (presumably for the kindness he showed the Jewish people and his support for the rebuilding of their temple) so there is certainly historical precedent concerning the title’s application to those other than Jesus. In fact, Messiah was No. 4 among the fastest-rising baby names in 2012, according to the Social Security Administration's annual list of popular baby names. If the legal system did not feel it was necessary to intervene when Frank Zappa was naming his offspring, there is certainly no reason to tell Jaleesa Martin she cannot name her kid Messiah.

As far as the young man’s geographical location is concerned, I am not sure he is in danger of being any more “at odds” with the local population due to the prevalence of Christianity. It is hard for me to imagine a local women’s prayer circle arming themselves with clubs as someone yells, “It’s about time someone taught that Messiah some respect for the Lord!” Has there been a recent wave of Jesús beatings in the Bible belt I am unaware of?

This is judicial overreach plain and simple. In all likelihood he will be issued a nickname before he starts kindergarten and no one will be the wiser. If he chooses to embrace his first name it lends itself to some pretty original pickup lines:

• Hey sweet thing, they call me Messiah and I’m here to resurrect your evening.

• In my father’s house are many rooms (and he is in Indianapolis till Tuesday…)

• Perhaps after this last supper we could have a first breakfast.

• Let me get the bartender’s attention and I’ll turn your water into wine.

• You must live around here because I felt the sudden urge to “love thy neighbor”.

• Blessed be the tipsy brunettes, for they shall inherit my cell number.

Video Room Kingdom

Several weeks ago I was introduced, by way of a YouTube clip, to Pastor Jim Standridge of Immanuel Baptist Church in Oklahoma. “Bro. Jim” as the church's website calls him, was delivering a sermon on May 19^th of this year when a parishioner dozed off mid-service. A visibly irritated Standridge called attention to the young man and then descended from the pulpit to confront him directly. Having publicly chided the attendee for his drowsiness, Bro Jim then turns his attention to another young man who is attending with his fiancée. Calling him out by name, Standridge asks the couple “What makes you think I would marry you? You’re one of the sorriest church members I have. You’re not worth 15 cents!” 

A few moments later he announces that he is “the real deal” and then begins moving back toward the pulpit before announcing that if they want him to leave all they have to do is tell him. He charitably announces that will be more than happy to pack up his “little Connie” in his “Buick Enclave” and find some “Podunk church that don’t know up from down” and give his “life to them”. For good measure he calls out the behavior of one member’s wife and sisters, tells another woman that her children will “turn on you” and appears to insult the financial stability of a man named Joe Basket who possesses neither a “pot nor a window”.  However, all of this pales in comparison with the disdain he has for “Young Cox” in the media booth.

For the next several minutes Bro Jim berates the A/V nerd for various transgressions up to and including attempting to establish his “own kingdom in the video room”. Having successfully aired his grievances, Standridge takes a sip of water and continues to deliver his planned message as if nothing had happened. 

The entire sermon (including the rant) can still be seen on the church’s website and is also available as a podcast. When interviewed about the tirade, 76-year old Standridge stands by the incident and claims that he has even received e-mails and letters of support. Having spent the past 24 years as the senior pastor of Immanuel Baptist, he has no plans of stepping down anytime soon.

Having viewed this footage several times, here are my thoughts:

• Never, ever piss off the A/V nerd. He probably relished every second he spent editing, encoding, and uploading this little gem to YouTube. I bet Cox hasn’t partaken in a labor of love this pure since finalizing his outfit for ComicCon.

• While one could argue that the others were being chastised for real or imagined moral transgressions under their control, it was just plain spiteful call out Joe Basket for being poor. Maybe he was recently laid off or perhaps he has been bankrupted by medical expenses. What I do know is that no one attends worship expecting the senior pastor to use their specific financial hardships as an anecdote. It wouldn’t surprise me if Mr. Basket didn’t “accidentally” back his Datsun into Bro Jim’s Buick Enclave when leaving church that Sunday.

• I have been attempting to use Standrdige’s body language in the video to discern the exact moment when he thought to himself “What the Hell, I might as well turn this into Festivus” and I have settled on the few seconds it takes him to walk back toward the pulpit after his encounter with the betrothed couple.

• Sadly, I am dying to hear the backstory on Kelly’s wife and sisters whose behavior was so abhorrent the pastor was forced to make “holy war” on their behalf. Were they operating a brothel out of the Fellowship Hall? Did they distribute peyote at VBS? Were they willfully complicit in Lance Armstrong’s decision to use performance enhancing drugs?

I don’t know what Brother Jim’s intentions were, but they quickly devolved into unwarranted personal attacks. I would even venture to guess that he made reference to several situations that had been revealed to him in confidence and for that there is no excuse. Regardless of their shortcomings, these people did not deserve to have their private spiritual struggles televised and referenced in a podcast. 

 

I suppose his congregation has the right to decide who ministers to them, but if I was a card-carrying member of this church you can bet that I would be more than happy to help he and Lil’ Connie load up the Buick. This was nothing more than shameless self-aggrandizement disguised as spiritual accountability. In the midst of his outburst, Standridge stated emphatically that “you can’t get this at any other church in town” and for that we should all be immensely grateful.

Royal Procreation

There are many things that I do not understand, but one of the biggest is the fascination with the Royal Baby. Last week I came home to find my wife riveted by what appeared to be footage of a closed door. Against this backdrop news anchors on every network were breathlessly reporting that “at any moment now, we will see the royal baby emerge!” In addition to the anchors, each station seemed to have their own royal expert (whom I suspect was anyone with an English accent and a flexible schedule) explaining the significance of said doors. Speculation was rampant. Will they speak to the press? Have they decided on a name? If the child’s eyes are green what does that mean for the 2014 hurricane season?

If hospital employees dared emerged from the doors they were met with disappointment and in a few cases even booed. Who boos an employee getting a sandwich? Calm down people, they aren’t crossing a picket line outside the steel plant. I secretly hoped William had substituted a Cabbage Patch doll for his son and would toss it toward the media to see if their first instinct would be to catch the child or to take a picture of it landing on the sidewalk.

Finally the royal couple emerged and, for whatever reason, decided to attempt a newborn hand-off maneuver in front of the press corp. That little exchange was one of the most terrifying moments I experienced as a new father. It was bad enough with the nurses watching, I would hate to think of the pressure knowing that a CNN anchor is touching her earpiece while saying, “We are now being joined by Dr. Phil Craddleston who chairs the Infant Transferology Department at BYU. Dr. Craddleston, what can you tell us about the history of Anglo-Saxon offspring transference?” 

After several minutes they went back inside and re-emerged with a car seat so that the prince could be loaded into the royal Range Rover. The station my wife was watching happened to juxtapose this image against archival footage of Princess Diana’s emergence from those same doors thirty-one years prior holding William. Diana, unfettered by modern child-safety laws, simply hopped in the backseat holding the child and they drove away. It is interesting to observe that to our modern way of thinking they might as well have ratchet-strapped the kid to the bumper as little as they were concerned for his personal safety.

After they left, I naturally assumed that the news stations would return to updating their viewers on the volatile situation in Egypt. Unfortunately, they decided we would best be served by being subjected to the now-looped footage of the emergence while they analyzed each and every movement in excruciating detail. They spent fifteen minutes dissecting what William taking possession of the child before descending the stairs meant for his parenting style. Really? Isn’t there a slim possibility that his wife, having just spent hours in labor, felt a little unsteady carrying a child down a flight of concrete stairs in front the world press?

This is where I would normally insert some haughty declaration about the 24-hour news cycle diluting and distracting the populace away from the issues that truly having a lasting effect on humanity, but the last time I checked I have written more articles about Courtney Stodden than I have about Egyptian unrest so I will leave such an observation to those with actual credibility.