Position, not timing, is everything. It’s not where you are, but where you’ve been. A person is a summation of all of their life’s experiences. So on. So forth.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about perspectives and opinions and how the later is so dependant on the former, yet usually unaware of it’s very existence. Let me demonstrate.

Kyle (our protagonist) goes to Boogie Records to check out the new releases. After a prolonged stay and listening session, he finally decides on the new Jimmy Eat World disc. He pays, and quickly (but yet hip-ly) shuffles to his car to sink into sonic enjoyment. He loves the album. In fact, Kyle hasn’t taken the album out of his car in over two weeks. And Kyle drives a lot.

But at school, Kyle overheard Marty (his classmate) mention to someone that the new Jimmy Eat World disc ‘sucks.’ Perplexed, Kyle insterts his two pennies and claims that he thinks it’s even better than Bleed American because of it’s depth and maturity. He says that while maybe not as radio-friendly, the album is richer and more progressive, yet still hasn’t lost the meolodic, chordant rock-ability that the band became known for. Marty doesn’t want to hear it.

So in this scenario, who’s right? Well, both are. In Kyleville, Futures is the better of the two albums, no questions asked. He has ‘informed’ opinions and reasons to back it up. This is why Kyle thinks that he is right. Nearby in Martytown, though, it gets no better than Bleed American. Marty doesn’t have any reasoning, other than the fact that he doesn’t like it. The last album made him happy and was linked to good times in his life. This just isn’t working for him. What Kyle doesn’t understand, is that maybe it’s stuff in Marty’s life that is different now that affects his opinion. Or maybe Marty doesn’t see that Kyle is more partial to minor-key composition (subconsciously, of course), and therefore is biased against the older album. It just depends on where your ‘standing.’

Beyond music, this applies a million times a day. Politics has stolen the limelight as of late, with people’s bruised ego’s and intellects bumping (ok, smashing) into one another at work and on the national stage. Both sides think they’re always right. Neither side often considers the other’s perspective.

With music, there’s nothing to lose. Marty doesn’t care what Kyle thinks, and Kyle doesn’t care if Marty likes the new album or not (he may think his classmate is musical clod, but that’s beside the point). Nothing is lost in the airing of differences. But with politics, damage does occur. Grudges are often formed and held. People hate/distrust/think differently of another because of their political stance.

In all of this politcal whirlwind I’ve been trying to force myself to understand and consider people’s backgrounds. Why do they believe this? Why do they support that? If I can understand why someone would vote against an issue that I think, clearly and unquivocally is the right choice, I can’t get mad at them. I cannot even get frustrated. I learn to accept their choice, because they have a reason for believing that. I may not understand it, but I’ll try.

I guess in all of this, I don’t understand the earplugging, blindeye lifestyles of others. Perhaps I even ascribe to the Henry Rollins school of thought, which is to experience things first hand in order to form opinions (he said once something to the effect of ‘when it’s cold, go without a coat. feel what cold really is.’). I cannot think that poverty is not an issue and dismiss it if I’ve never understood it, and so on.

I suppose that’s my point - I hope I never lose the desire to learn from others, from my experiences, to grow and feel. I pray that I never turn a deaf ear to someone of the opposite opinion. The day I start making decisions based on just “what I feel” without considering another perspective, is hopefully the day that I die.

I’m not a political person, at least outwardly. I’m not a religious person, outwardly. I believe what I believe, strongly in most cases, but follow a 100% tolerance approach to differing views. I also believe that I may not be right in all things that I believe, and that that is OK because I’m still living day to day, learning day to day. Opinions to me are like toes in that everyone has them and no one wants theirs in particular to be stepped on. Therefore, I don’t wear my combat boots around other people.

As I settled down for the evening last night, I picked up the newest issue of Rolling Stone that I had sitting on my night stand. With the magazine in hand, I slipped into bed to read for a bit before resting my weary, sick head. I chuckled at the brashness of a cover headline. Something about “inside the lines of the enemy” in regards to the republican party. Huh. Though not surprised at RS’s political views, I still found that to be quite, um, bold. And not in a Doritos sort of way.

I flipped through, scanning the reviews that I had already read and picked over (and by ‘picked over,’ I mean I skip anything that involves Interpol. Get over them.) I found myself reading an article about a journalist posing as a Bush supporter and campaign volunteer for three months. Interesting topic right? Except for the fact that he did it because of his hate (yes, he used the word hate) of the Republican party. Now that’s just not cool.

This just in: Still not a registered Democrat or Republican. Still don’t know who I’m voting for. Still don’t think either major candidate is worth their weight in salt. Ok, just checking to make sure you get the point.

So basically the article describes his ‘hilarious’ exploits in Florida in the most inflated, egotistical and narcissitic fashion possible. He uses a tone and language that most people would expect to be mastered and forgotten by the time sixth grade bullies moved on to high school. He pushes and belittles the reader, shoving trite stereotypes down their throat until they only believe that all Republicans are either 1) backwoods hilljacks with hateful tendencies and gunracks or 2) naive, misinformed Christians with their heads up their asses. Hell by the end of the article he could have told me that Suzy snitched on Bobby to the teacher just to get him a demerit and I would have believed him. I felt I was 10 all over again.

I’m all for entertaining journalism. I think the premise of the story was strong, and could have been a great piece on how the party in Florida is actually run. Instead what was delivered was the most smug, juvenile piece of crap I’ve possibly ever read. What a waste of an opportunity.

My whole point here, though I might not quite explain it well, is that I have *no* tolerance for using stereotypes to win an argument. Especially where one of your stronger passages is supposed to be about how the ‘other side’ doesn’t know how to argue with logic. A piece that is supposed to be a tell-all expose of the true inner workings of the Republican party was a rash, elementary summarization of ignorant stereotypes. Hell, I have no tolerance for stereotypes in general.

With no partisan ties myself, I shouldn’t care. But I do. I care, not because the Republicans looked like morons (assuming most people eat the crapcake article that this guy serves them), but rather because he’s teaching millions of readers to hate (yes hate) people with different views…and taking what he thinks is the high, enlightened road while he’s at it. So not only is he spreading hate and ignorance, he’s saying “hey, look over there! those people are spreading hate and ignorance!” all the while he’s the one getting away with it.

With biased news casts (in both directions), scripted cream-puff debates and candidates that dance around topics like they’re on Bandstand, we need intellectual, un-emotional dialogue between party supporters. Republicans that cling to their party all the while plugging their ears to the Democratic views (and vice versa) is idiotic. Your ‘team’ can’t be right just because you’re on the team. You can’t think your way is right just because it’s *not* the other view. That exclusionary mindset is assinine.

Why can’t people discuss politics without being personally offended? Why can’t I read one piece of journalism, pertaining even the slightest in politics, without someone trying to sell me their rhetoric? Not everything is propaganda. Not everything is an advertisement.

I’m not goin to not cancel my subscription to Rolling Stone. That’s idiotic. But I pray that they think twice about spreading the gospel of hate to a young demographic. And best of luck to the author, who’s doing a poor job of being the written Michael Moore of this election.

I’m not even sure what city it was. All I know is that it was one of the first road trips I had been on as a teenager with a newfound social identity. Well, you couldn’t really call it a roadtrip. It was really just a football game in a neighboring city. Hell, I don’t even know how we got there.

I think it was a state playoff game, or qualifier of some sort against New Brunswick or Canton McKinley. As you can plainly see, the details of the game itself are painfully accurate to me. What is forever etched in my memory, however, is one of the most pivotal events of my high school years.

I was up front in the stadium, to the left of Andy. He had on an SJ soccer sweatshirt and one of his old trusty baseball caps. And as usual he was in stellar form, shouting, cheering and generally harassing the refs and opposing team from an extra-careful distance (it was a rather large high school stadium, with a full track seperating the stands from the field itself). Who knows what the hell I had on, something toolish no doubt. But I do remember feeling like I could swing on the coatails of Andy’s mojo for the evening.

The game progressed, and inevitably began to take a turn for the worst. St. John’s was down by a touchdown heading towards the waning fourth quarter buzzer. In a moment of explosive, frantic desparation, Andrew turned to me and proclaimed, “I swear, if we get a touchdown to tie the game, I’ll turn around and kiss that girl behind us!”

I can’t remember if I was equally as caught up in the sporting moment, but I know certainly that I, 1) did not have the audacity (or confidence) to back up this claim myself and, 2) that I had no clue that someone of the opposite sex was even behind us. At 16, this was apparently already engrained in Andy.

Well unfortunately neither Cupid nor John Madden were not on Andy’s side that fateful fall evening. So, true to his nature, he spun around anyways and took the proverbial bull by the horns. I braced myself for embarassment (not because I thought he’d make an ass of himself, but…well, ok, no that was it). The rest, however, changed our lives forever.

Andy had in fact made contact with said female and said female’s best friend. He must have wooed them with his uncompromising charm or his boyish good looks. Or perhaps an exchange of money was involved. Nonetheless, the final result was that Andrew had secured for himself a homecoming date and in the process also dragged my reluctant ass into it.

Over lunch that following Monday, he spilled the details of their conversation and revealed that he was going with Andrea who went to Notre Dame (sister school), and that her friend Claire wanted to go with me.

Dear God what had happened here? Where did everything spiral into chaos and confusion?!? What had I done to deserve this? I was terrified.

The final result of it all was dramatic at best. I declined, and became a lame-ass for life. I regret my choice, but Matt went with her instead…and they dated for a few months. Andy in fact went with Andrea, and also dated for several months. In the process, my friends for life were solidified. Recounting the details of it all would more than spoil the justice that they deserve, but memories that I will hold close to my heart were etched into my brain that year. While I ran from academic pressures and personal problems, I clung tighter to this newfound group for all it was worth. They were and are better friends than I could ever hope to have. The Reliant station wagon, ice skating at Ottawa Park, listening to that techno song that sounded like a TV was turned on at Andy’s parent’s house, back-to-back indoor soccer games and Sufficient Grounds afterwards. My life, as I know it today, started that year, and I ache to relive it again. A dreary, misty fall evening filled with adolescent foolery birthed the relationships of fantasy.

And here I thought that Andy was going to get smacked. Again.

As usual, I like to respond to a friend’s writing via this vehicle, rather than bog down his comments section. So here goes.

First of all, I’m not nearly as immersed in Catholic teaching as I should be. I’ve read the Catechism only about 1.5 times in my life, and cannot actively recall the parts about violence/military. However, I do know what my stance is.

Having been educated for eight years in Jesuit institutions and continuing on to work at one for the past two years, I think it’s safe to assume that I have a farily solid grasp on the “Jesuit ideal” and what it means to “walk Ignatian.” I believe that the Jesuit order is out to promote peace and justice, and that is one reasons I support what they do. But should we go so far as to say that violence riddles the rhetoric and teachings of the entire curriculum? Granted, I do not attend Canisius. But here, *how to committ* violence is not taught.

Yes, history courses highlight wars, battles and geopolitical struggles that have seen the bloodshed of millions of innocent lives. But is this inclusion of war a recounting of past events or glorification? I say it’s story telling. I have indeed studied Ghandi’s life and work (at a Jesuit high school) as part of a historical narrative. And I’ve studied war. But the non-violent solution was the only thing actively promoted. The topic of war was covered because, well, it *happened.*

Supplementary courses at my current institution do promote peace. We are lucky enough to have a peace studies minor, and a handful of courses that teach non-violence and peaceful resistance. But it’s not a requirement.

If anything, I say to you Andy that your suggestions are indeed a bit radical (for a University to change is…well…humorous). I would say that asking faculty to highlight peace teachers where appropriate in their disciplines is sufficient…to balance the view. But mandatory peace studies courses might be too much.

And in response to Mr. Whatshisface’s (not heigtening his google score thank you) email to you, I say someone shouldn’t let emotions rule his writing. True, ROTC programs, military and police personal are essential. In fact, I believe the Catholic teaching does certainly acknowledge the need to perform our civic duties (therefore, not speaking against such professions). What this gentleman fails to note is that you’re not asking to abolish all military programs…just those at your school. Our country surely wouldn’t fall into the hands of foreign tyrants if the 20+ people in Canisius’ ROTC program didn’t graduate each year. But a peace-teaching school does not have to host such a program if it is indeed in conflict with faith teaching (again, I’m fuzzy on).

People that bleed patriotism or swing so hard to one political extreme scare me, frankly. The glorified ideal that the military is saving us from the ever-present boogeymen every night is a stretch, Mr. Whatsyourface. Perhaps it’s you who I should be afraid of when I go to bed at night.

But to Andy, I say do the peaceful, understanding thing. Turn the other cheek to those students/strangers that are attacking you. If you get harassed, thank them for illustrating those behaviors that you are pointing out. If you get threatened, accept it as proving your point. The more peaceful and courteous you are, the worse they become. Don’t play their game.

What a horrible post this is. Note to self: don’t write before caffiene in the morning.