"TORN" I. Like a hand above the fire The unease gathers as the limb moves closer; But to move away from the source of unease, Like the hand from the fire, Does not mean the flame and the fire Are not there: You can run but you can’t hide. The older you get, the stronger the tendency: You never will fit in, and solitude is the Only solace: people bring out the worst In you, and intellectuals the most: “An intellectual hatred is the worst.” In a country where the soldiers have no subtlety, And the intellectuals no backbone – The Scylla of rigidity And the Charybdis of softness, I am cursed to belong to both – One foot in either camp, I never will belong. II. A contested election a terrorist attack and a “war,” America the “red” versus American the “blue,” these divided States of America, another election approaching this fall, as I hold my breath and brace for another round of shouting - America, land of the free, and home of the hoarse: Those who never think about politics, the bad, Those who think of nothing else – the worst. III. “9/11 - NEVER FORGET.” “PEACE IS PATRIOTIC.” Is peace always “patriotic”? Is anyone arguing to “forget” 9/11? From whence this frightful outbreak of bumper sticker-think? An argument to be taken seriously? A bite-sized claim for our bite-sized attention span – As we cross each other’s path in rush hour traffic? The best chance we’ll have to persuade one another – In an atomized country of familiar strangers reading each other’s car bumpers on the freeway? Or move to the “professionals” who rant on the radio or scream from the screen: The two most obscene words in the language, Rush Limbaugh and Michael Moore – Journalism as gladiatorial combat, “Give me fifteen words from a man, and I will have enough to hang him.” Why do we let ideologues dominate our national debate? A drop of common sense, like water in the desert? An idea gracefully presented, modestly offered as “perhaps” best: “Doubt a little of your infallibility.” IV. Seen on the bumper of a late model maroon Subaru in the parking lot of the Gervitz School of Education At UC Santa Barbara: “WHEN THE POWER OF LOVE IS STRONGER THAN THE LOVE OF POWER, THEN THERE WILL BE PEACE.” A pretty idea to espouse, said the spider to the fly – not even the common sense God gave to the beast of the forest, stalked by the lion – incredible triumph of faith over experience, fuzzy thinking, soft and squishy – lambs for the slaughter. Meanwhile, Osama bin Laden waits and plots: the fire next time, just a matter of time, Kill the Infidel wherever you find him, oh jihadi! “ WE SUPPORT OUR TROOPS.” Who doesn’t? Can you be against the war without being “un-American”? “America, love it or leave it” - As if different minds would not differ on what is “best” for our country? A certain rheumatism of the mind: A block of marble, uncarved. V. History repeats itself, Republican and Democrat: “The best lack all convictions, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.” Conservatives and liberals, the tedium is excessive: “THE ROAD TO HELL IS PAVED WITH REPUBLICANS.” “AIDS… DRUGS… ABORTION… DON’T LIBERALS JUST KILL YOU?” They appear as pouting children, like hectoring talk show hosts, desperately afraid you might grow bored and turn the channel. Do I really have to choose one or the other? Can I turn off the program instead? VI. Is it any wonder then that I flee to my classroom and shut the door? The simple mendacities of teenagers, a blessed relief from the calcified ideologies and intemperate passions of discontented adults - a nation aroused, a place untame, an anthill, furiously upturned - America, as I see it, Summer of 2004.