Thoughtless Scribbles, Senseless Death: The Mohammed Caricature Controversy

Can a cartoon hold so much significance that death and destruction become legitimate in response to its simple lines and curves?

It seems that, for many radical Muslims, the answer to this question is yes. The infamous caricatures of the prophet Mohammed have paved the way for the burning of embassies, the needless loss of life, and the irrational, barbaric threats to “massacre” or “behead” the drawings’ creators—all in the name of defending Islam (CNN).

In moderate Muslims, the reaction is much less extreme but still profound. Many individuals denounce the violence, but it still seems as if little has actually been done to halt its virulent proliferation. Others seem to pay only token attention to the deadly protests. For example, I read one blog in which a Muslim man focused on the deep sadness he experienced after having seen the cartoons:

“I felt so sad after thinking about those cartoons like I never felt before in my whole life. I think west want to snatch everything from us. They attached [sic] Afghanistan, Iraq, now thinking about Iran and what next. I think that may be [sic] like communism they want to end our ideology Islam (a complete way of life). They want to impose their values on us. You will not be successful in doing so because Islam lives deep in our heart. It is part of our souls.” (Anderson Cooper 360 Blog)

This comment mystified me. Why wasn’t this faithful follower of Islam expressing the same deeply saddened emotions after having seen his religion sullied by becoming the cause of—rather, the excuse for—death, destruction, and lawlessness?

Admittedly, my question is biased by my own religious apathy, which makes it difficult for me to relate to the man’s intensity of emotion. Nevertheless, I see the cartoons as the tasteless statement made by a small group of insensitive artists, perpetuated by newspaper publishers who lack understanding of the Muslim world. Personally, I feel that restraint in publication would have been the moral course of action, especially in light of the explosive reaction from the Muslim community. But the caricatures have already been published, and restraint is no longer an option (unless, of course, we are talking about Iran’s attempts to publish an offensive Holocaust spoof—CNN). It is time to decide how to proceed with this issue—before more blood is shed.

I find that the current problem is a matter of perspective. Apparently, this man has placed so much significance on the cartoons that he has completely overlooked the terrible events that have followed in their wake. I emphasize “placed” because the cartoons cannot hold an intrinsic significance if both he and I appraise them with different values. I do not want to assert that it is wrong to infuse religious meaning into these cartoons—only that this man is inserting too much meaning. For they are merely lines on a page, containing no life of their own. Their creators exist outside of the realm of Islam. But the protestors—the violent protestors—are creators of senseless death and destruction and exist within the Muslim world. Shouldn’t an internal devotion by Muslims to the peaceful ideals of Islam be more important than extracting bloody revenge for the careless caricatures of individuals who do not understand the faith?

It is time for all parties involved to take the cartoons for what they truly are: cartoons. However, insulting they may be, they are still only scribbles at their core. And a few thoughtless scribbles are certainly not a good justification for senseless death.

Is he on to something?

From simply viewing Joe Coleman's work and seeing his grim outlook on the world, it's very easy to pin him as 'crazy.'With mangled body parts and flaming backgrounds, anyone would consider him unusual. Yet after seeing "Rest in Pieces," I started to take a new outlook on Coleman as a person. True, he paints controversial works filled with gory images,strange mutations and he does bite the heads off mice. Yet as Joe Coleman himself stated in the documentary, it's better for him to take out his rage in the form of art rather than with a gun or a knife. Sure, there are people he would have liked to kill, but he hasn't murdered anyone, yet. The movie has made me shift my focus off of Joe Coleman's work as an artist and onto him as a person. Although it may not have been the purpose of "Rest in Pieces," I have now become less interested in what his artwork has to say, and more focused on what exactly is the matter or perhaps isn't the matter with this man. It might seem easy to say that Joe Coleman is crazy, but is that truly the case? If he was seriously insane, it is likely he would have channeled his rage in a far different manner than simply painting disturbing images and putting on controversial performances. I started thinking that maybe Joe Coleman is more sane than some of us. After all, he has found a way to successfully focus his emotions into an almost acceptable escape, whereas most of us probably keep our frustrations bottled up, which will end up causing us more grief later on in life. As Coleman's ex-girlfriend explained, he is almost too nice of a person, now how many of us can honestly say that about ourselves? He might seem crazy, but in the end, he's expressing feelings that the average person wouldn't dare release. Maybe we're being too harsh by calling Coleman crazy. Sure, he definitely has some emotional hang-ups and insecurities, but who doesn't? As strange as it sounds to admit this, maybe Joe Coleman is on to something, maybe he's got the right idea.

JOe Colemannnnn!

There seems to be a quite some controversy circling this character Joe Coleman. I feel as though I have wavering opinions on this man as a I strive to come to terms with whether I feel his is truly insane, or rather simply phening for attention. If you look at in the most simplistic way, and don’t dig below the surface, the man clearly is off his rocker. His combination of vulgar, perverted paintings of oversized breasts and genitalia in conjunction with bloody corpses with chunks of their brains and skulls missing, lead to only one, unfortunate conclusion; clinically insane. But, if you look from another perspective, he could just be a guy desperate for attention. Like Marilyn Manson for example, the guy seems like a complete nut case. His appearance is absolutely frightening and his music and videos are some of the most disturbing things I have ever encountered. Then you hear him talk, like in Bowling For Columbine, and not only does he come off as strikingly normal, but extremely bright. It makes me you feel ignorant for classifying him as a lunatic because in actuality he’s just like you and me. There could be a similar situation going on with Joe Coleman. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to see the movie documenting Coleman’s life and haven’t had a chance to hear him speak, so in my eyes he could be a completely average guy, despite is gruesome paintings of course.

Joe Coleman

A Connection with Coleman

Original Sin is a book about Joe Coleman's life, and it contains the many portaits he has created throughout his career. All the pictures have a lot of different things going on in them, but each is unique. You wouldn't look at one picture and then turn the page and see the exact same thing. Coleman has so many feelings inside of him that he needs to express, and luckily he is able to do that through his artwork in numerous ways. Sometimes, he paints objects that you couldn't even imagine in your head, but he also draws famous people who have impacted his life, and that's when I came across Sigmund Freud. I was really interested in looking more closely at this drawing produced by Mr. Coleman. When I was in high school, I took a psychology class, and this semester I'm doing the same. Psychology has always been a subject that catpures my attention; it's just fascinating. Throughout the painting, Coleman wrote words, such as "libido," "ego," "eros," and "genital stage." In Psychology this semester, we spent about 2 months learning about Freud and his theories. I learned what all of these words meant according to Freud, so I thought that I was able to connect with this painting on another level.

Even though I was able to share this moment with Coleman, I still think he is absolutely psychotic. When Grant showed Rest in Pieces, I actually walked into Goldberg Lounge ready to give him a chance. I thought to myself, "He'll have the opportunity to talk, give us his point of view, and explain why he does what he does." Well, I tried, and i still think he is mental. Something is seriously wrong with him. He eats mice and adopted a dead fetus he named "Junior." I was shocked to find out he is a practicing Catholic, not because of his artwork but because of his behavior. He admitted he did drugs heavily and had a criminal record. My opinion of Joe Coleman hasn't changed for the better after watching that film or seeing his portrait of Sigmund Freud, but rather I have found him to be even more disturbing than before.

Beyond Belief

This past summer, I toured the East Coast with a group of Israeli victims of terror. The poeple on the trip had either been injured in a terrorist attack themselves, or had family members who were killed or injured in an attack. When I had joined the group, I felt like an outsider, since they had all traveled from Israel together and met each other some time ago. I met the people slowly, and gradually tried to get to know them.

Our first stop was the infamous Madame Tussauds Wax Museum in New York City, where it was my job to help take pictures of the event. As I strolled through the rooms, looking at all the exhibits, I noticed a man, with his back towards me. The man had one arm across his stomach, and the other elbow resting on it, with his fist on his chin, as if he was deep in thought. I watched him as he stood there, staring at the figure, with tears in his eyes. He moved down to the next statue, and the tears were streaming down his cheeks. As he went from model to model, he continued to cry. I knew that his life must have been filled with terror, but I could not stop wondering what his story was. The rest of the people on the trip seemed to be having a good time, laughing and taking pictures with the different characters. I continued to fixate on the middle aged, crying man. I noticed that his arms were enclosed in some kind of brace, as if his skin had been burned. As my curiosity intensified, I decided to go ask the head of the trip about this mysterious man.

"Zohar's entire family was in an attack." That was all I needed to hear before I felt tears fill my own eyes. It was difficult to even imagine what horrors Zohar must have endured, but I still hoped for the best of the worst. I learned that Zohar, his wife, his two young sons, and two teenage daughters were vacationing in the Sinai Peninsula, on the border of Israel and Egypt, in October prior to the trip (which was in the summer.) He, his wife, anf the two boys were in one hotel room on the ninth floor, and the two teenage daughters were in the room right next door. Suddenly, there was a large explosion. A suicide bomber had driven his car into the lobby of the hotel, nine stories beneath the family's rooms, and detonated himself. Zohar's entire room plummeted over 100 feet. His wife and two little boys died on impact, and Zohar was left burned, scarred for life, physically and emotionally. The adjacent room, where his daughters were staying, remained intact and did not fall. Now I was the one crying.

After I heard this tragic story, I understood why Zohar was so sad. As depressing as it was for me to hear what happened to him, this was the reality of Zohar's life. I contemplated the irony of the brutality and finality of the attack, superimposed on the peacefulness and happiness of one family's vacation. One minute Zohar was on a holiday with his beloved family, and, seconds later, there was an explosion and death, and his family's life was changed forever.

As I got closer to Zohar, he spoke of his family, of his twin daughters who were now of age to serve in the Israeli army, and their desire and decision to do so, although they had been exempt. He supported their decision and was confident that they would be safe. He told me about his job and his passion for Israeli folk dancing. He seemed to enjoy the trip, but mysteriously dissapeared on the Sabbath or whenever a religous event was scheduled. Zohar explained to me that on a personal level, he was unable to reconcile his own belief in G-d with the tragic murder of his family. The terrorist actions of a fanatic in the name of religion had not only robbed this gentel man of the people that he loved, but also of his capacity to believe.

Pimping is like a religion?

I have been seeking religion-blog inspiration in all things around me when I found it in a rather unexpected source. When reading "Beggars and Thieves" an ethnography about the lives of urban street criminals by Mark Fleisher I was struck by an interesting idea. In an interview, Paris, an urban informant, makes the claim that "'Diamonds, cars, physical things don't make a pimp. It's a lifestyle that you live. Pimping is like a religion, something you live, something you think and learn through experience,'" (Fleisher 90). Street crime and its causes has always been an interest of mine. To hear a criminal talk about his participation in deviance as something of a religious nature never occurred to me, but it does present itself as a possible explanation for a potential reason criminals behave the way they do. If we accept what Paris is saying, then crime not only becomes a personal choice for men like him, but a kind of engrained cultural phenomenon that explains why fear of punishment and immoral qualms have little bearing on his actions. This 'pimping' is so indoctrinated into him that his entire life revolves around it. Many people are willing to kill and be killed for their religious beliefs, and Paris can probably identify with this kind of devotion through his so-called pimp religion. The idea of calling this kind of criminal activity a religion creates a seeming paradox. Religion is typically viewed as something deeply moral. Pimping as a practice would typically be considered a very immoral practice.

To broaden the scope of this a little bit and allow pimping to be just one example of a criminal lifestyle we can begin to address not only the religion of pimping specifically, but in general the religion of crime. The general gangster way of life though seemingly immoral has its own set of codes. The G-code, as it is sometimes popularly called, dictates a way of life between fellow criminals that is a kind of honors system. It deems respect as a paramount feature of the religion of criminals. Also, speaking about crime in general, images of gangsters and criminals at times exemplify a societal ideal. Youths at times strive to be like these criminals and embrace their culture. They talk like them, dress like them and want to be like them. Similarly in the Christian faith religious believers strive to achieve ideals. However in this more traditional religion, ideals include things like purity in thought, mind and deed. Though these criminals abide by a very different set of laws there is still the sense that it is a higher law. Their unlawful way of life, according to the laws of society, provides a way out of the daily humdrum monotony that many people face, it allows them to make their own rules and live a life of crime while all the while still keeping to the code.

Abortion, Illegal or Not?

After extensive hours of contemplation about what to write in a religious blogger, I finally decided on discussing a current event because, considering I’m not remotely religious, I felt it would definitely be the easier way out. Anyways, throughout the vast media coverage in conjunction with my legal studies class this semester, I have become quite familiar with the controversy over the new justice to the Supreme Court. The United States Supreme Court is comprised of 9 justices and, before the commission of the new justice, it was split with 4 of the justices being democratic, 4 republican and the 9th acting as the “swing” vote. This provides for a nice blend of beliefs and opinions, ensuring that one party doesn’t dominate the entire group. When any of the justices die or retire, the President appoints someone to fill the vacant seat. Considering the term given to justices of the Supreme Court is life, whenever the time comes to appoint a new one, it’s always a pretty big deal. In the case occurring right now, its even a bigger deal because the justice to be replaced, Sandra Day O’ Connor, was the “swing” vote and the man nominated by President Bush to appoint her is Republican. This means, of course, that the balance between parties is going to be thrown off, making the official count 5 Republicans to 5 Democrats. At first, when I knew very little about the issue, I just couldn’t grasp the concept surrounding the matter and saw no reason why the world seemed to be in a frenzy about this. But after becoming more educated on the topic, I realized what the hype was all about and understood that implications of this decision were pretty huge.

The most prominent affect the appointment of this new judge has, is the possibility to overturn the Roe V. Wade case making abortion illegal—this is where the religious stuff comes into play. Now, I don’t know a ton about religion, but I do know that this decision would most likely make Catholics happy, considering they generally are pro-life. On the other hand, though, this decision will wreak havoc upon the vast majority of women in addition to the million people in the US who are pro-choice. Ever since I can remember, its simply been a given to me that if a bad situation were to occur involving, whether it be to me or to friends and family, that there is always that reassurance of an abortion. To have that right stripped of you, and to actually think for a second that that there is no longer that choice, is an extremely scary and serious thought.

This is my attempt to at being “religious”….

Identification?!

People identify themselves in different ways; through their family, by their state or country of origin and some even by their faith. For me none of these things are of any significant. I heir from a middle class family, was raised in Nigeria, grew up in England and now I find myself in the United States; moreover I am not particularly religious. What do I have that can form the basis of my personality.

By the time the ‘average’ 18 year old arrives at college, he is pretty sure of what he believes, what he stands for and his goals in life. Through my adolescent years I moved nomadically through a variety of education systems and cultures. I started off in a Public School in Nigeria, where teachers often didn’t attend classes, where classes fit for 20 people often had a hundred or more and nothing was learned. Upon my parents’ realization of the poor standard of the education I was receiving, they abruptly transferred me to a traditional private school in England, where I was the only student of color in the entire school. I was hit by a tremendous culture shock and felt lost. Being a 13 year old boy in an alien environment where I felt imprisoned by the rigorous education and sporting requirements left me often yearning to return my home country to the freedom of the liberal education I received at home. At the age of 16, I had had enough; it was too controlling and I believed myself to be of free spirit. I applied to a school known for its liberal approach towards education and its student’s and faculty’s ethnic diversity. I received an academic scholarship from the school and against my parent’s wishes, proceeded to matriculate. This was my home; here I was quick to find my niche and reveled in the humanitarian and social opportunities provided by the school. Life there was exhilarating. Protests against government activities, cultural shows and my favorite, debates on the education system of African countries, revealed a hidden facet of my personality that was being suppressed.

It feels, not so long ago, I was the kid boarding the plane to London, for the first time. Now I feel even more lost than I did then, for then, if someone were to ask me who I was I would have said, “I am Nigerian!”. Now, I wouldn’t have such a terse answer. What I do know is that I am not your ‘average’ 18 year old; I am more for there is so much to my personality that i cannot be described by one phrase.

Walking on Eggshells

I have literally agonized over what to write in a religious blog. I take a course that emphasizes the study of religion and media through writing, but religion is not a prominent facet of my life. In fact, each time I went to work on a blog entry, I felt that what I had written would offend someone (not intentionally!) by expressing my doubt in particular religious belief or write something that someone could perceive to be insensitive or close-minded.

I grew up in a small rural town that had/has nearly no religious diversity and it was in the fourth grade that I remember things a change. A new boy in my class was a Jehovah’s witness and to the rest of us, his classmates, it was completely irrelevant to how we related to him, we didn’t even know what that meant. Those feelings changed when the class was no longer allowed to hold holiday or birthday celebrations, a revered and cherished tradition in all classes until this religious outsider rained on our parade. Of course, he was not intentionally altering our traditions or taking away our fun, but from then on, he was truly resented. I can see why reading that story, one would sympathize for the little boy. However, nearly twenty other boys and girls were then awestruck with how his religious beliefs had so strongly dictated our classroom dynamic. We were hurt and even more confused, but we were always compelled by our elders to stifle our disagreement and inquiries because it would be “rude.” I remember floods of complaints that came into the school about canceling any celebrations, and by the next year, the school had altered its policy. The new rule was that children who cannot celebrate or participate in class activities for religious reasons could opt out by staying home or go to another classroom at times when there would be festivities for the class.
Like I said, there is little diversity of any kind where I grew up, but the receptionist, we’ll call her Holly, at the dentist’s office where my mother is a dental hygienist, is another instance worth discussing. Holly is a gregarious and extremely likable woman, who also happens to be a Jehovah’s Witness. My mother finds herself tripping over her words on nearly a daily basis to avoid making Holly uncomfortable or offending her—no more saying “Oh my God” in incredulous moments, “God bless you,” in response to a sneeze, and she’s always looking for a way to secularize all office festivities to avoid offending or excluding Holly. I have been in many situations when I have inadvertently acted or spoken in a way that is does not appreciate a variety of religions. One of the best examples would be before Winter Break, saying good-bye to friends and classmates and indiscriminately wishing a “very Merry Christmas” to a large number of people who do not celebrate Christmas. I accidentally disregarded the especially large Jewish population at Penn, as well as the many other religions that do not celebrate Christmas. Thankfully, most of those who do not celebrate Christmas didn’t even call me on my faux pas or would say something like “and a Happy Hanukah to you!” However, a handful got very offended and of course, I felt awful. I did not even mean use limiting terms, it was merely instinct. For weeks after, I was acutely aware of differences whether they were religious, racial, gender, or otherwise. It has only been recently that I have had to let some of my fears of offending or excluding someone go because I was driving myself crazy!
In a wide world of diversity and disparity, someone could spend their entire lifetime trying to learn how to deal with the infinite differences among us and still never reach that goal. The best someone can do for now is to be honest— politely communicate your anxiety or uneasiness with unfamiliar faiths, religious teachings, etc, and express that you are making a concerted effort to be respectful.
One cannot ask for more than an earnest attempt to be considerate and accommodating. We can each have our own beliefs and need not change them to please others, but we can be sure to let others know that we recognize their beliefs as sacred to them and do our best to communicate that we are making a concerted effort to be respectful of their beliefs.
This will be my genuine effort to let anyone know who may read any of my entries in the future that I’ll try hard to esteem a wide array of religious affiliations, but I’m still learning and only human.

The Rights and Wrongs of Lines and Religion

Waiting on line makes me nervous. You stand there and stand there, taking tiny measured steps in some direction. Yet, there’s always that chance that the food shop or the ticket merchant will close or sell out before it’s even your turn. No one around you has any valid input; they all know just as much as you do – nothing. All you can do is wait if you want whatever it is you’re waiting for bad enough, or give up and leave.

Religion makes me nervous in entirely the same way. You’re born into some religion and you believe or you don’t believe, but either way you’re waiting in some kind of line, following some kind of religious path.

Everyone always says that as long as you live your life in a good way that specifically what religion you are won’t matter. They say that the different details are irrelevant. But haven’t you ever wondered if they’re wrong?

What if there genuinely is only one right religion? What if, in the afterlife, you are left organ and possession-less because you were not buried with these items as the ancient Egyptians believed? What if, by taking the Lord’s name in vain, you are actually breaking a sacred commandment and will then be barred from heaven?

What if, by the time you get to the end of the line, they’re out of Bon Jovi tickets and you’re left screwed?

It’s a scary thing to remember that we have no idea what the rules are, who is right, and who is utterly incorrect. Does heaven exist or should we be searching for Buddha’s enlightenment?

Even scarier, is everyone wrong and there is nothing there at all to wait for?

My rhetorical questions have no answers; they only leave me with a philosophy for living my life. Don’t wait in a line when you don’t know where it ends. Live. And live without considering it. Because, in the end, there is no point. We have no idea what’s around the bend.

The Unncessary Life of Religion

The cultural wars of modern times are expanding. The intersection of religion with sex, science and politics has impeded America’s ability to function efficiently. Arguments on capital hill about abortion and stem cell research, for example, have triggered major fissures between the Republicans and the Democrats. Religion’s role in science, for example, has washed away the middle ground that used to exist among the two major political parties. Politicians, should not be concerned with the opinions of religious groups and yet small religious congregations have established meaningful ties with the White House. Religion should not directly impact legislation, but rather should exist on the periphery of certain societal fields such as politics and science. Religion can guide one’s conscience and impulses, but that is all.
In Chapter Three of “Authentic Fakes” Chidester refers to the mapping of the human genome. This achievement should take away from religions credibility in influencing a school’s science curriculum, but the accomplishment was actually marketed in a manner that would appease religious sectors. Why do scientists and politicians still cater to the power of the church? In the 21st century religion should not be a threat to other aspects of life. Americans should understand that DNA’s code is not “God’s language” (Chidester, 64). How can our country be so technologically advanced and yet more than half of our population does not understand what the mapping of the human genome reveals about our species or that evolution must be taught in a science class with no note in the text book suggesting that there are other (more likely) theories on how homo sapiens evolved? On an intellectual level our country must catch up with our technological capabilities. We cannot allow religion to chip away at our culture.