The oral majority
Groups who try to restrict free speech should go to #&*!
CLIFF HICKS is a senior
news-editorial and English
major and the Daily
Nebraskan opinion editor.
There is no moral majority.
Don’t get me wrong, there is a self
proclaimed “moral majority,” but they
are neither moral nor the majority. I’ve
been a vocal opponent of them for
years, but I never realized how much I
really despised what they were trying to
do until this past year or so.
Over the past year, I’ve run into a
whole hell of a lot of them. My opinions
are wrong, they’ve said. My opinions
are despicable, they’ve said. I’m cor
rupting the innocent, they’ve said.
(Yeah, they actually said that What am
I, Socrates?)
I’ve been very outspoken against a
lot of “moral” things. For those of you
who aren’t listening, here’s the list of
things I’m “immoral” about, so you can
get mad in advance: I’m anti-censor
ship, anti-family values, pro-pomogra
phy, pro-violent entertainment, pro
profanity, pro-individual freedom, pro
drug legalization and definitely anti
politics.
What it all comes down to is whom
do I trust more, me or you? In the end,
naturally, I trust me.
I joined the American Civil
Liberties Union recently because of my
stands on personal freedom. I’d thought
long and hard about it (and waited until
I had $30 to make my symbolic gesture
with) and then I sent them the check.
The reason? The ACLU is probably
the only organization I feel like I can
honestly endorse wholeheartedly in
America.
The stories about the ACLU are
practically legends to people in the
know. A Jewish attorney defending the
right of a bunch of neo-Nazis to speak
their opinion. The ACLU as a whole
going toe-to-toe with the attorney gen
eral on whether or not the Internet
should be regulated.
No matter who you are, the ACLU
stands behind your right to express your
opinion. It isn’t about whether or not
they agree, because that isn’t the point.
The point is that you have the right
to say it.
Perhaps this is the highest price one
has to pay for freedom, because it
means tolerating hearing the things you
hate.
I listen to the self-proclaimed
“moral majority” because it’s my oblig
ation as a free person to do so. When I
get tired of their senseless rhetoric, I
turn it off. I walk away. I stop listening.
But I choose to do this myself. It’s
not something stipulated to me by any
one. I have as much right to listen to
them as I do white supremacist diatribe,
which is equally worthless.
I can also listen to a Communist tell
me about what kind of atrocities our
country is committing and how our
president should be “dealt with.”
I have the right to puff on a big
cigar, sipping from malt liquor while
watching a pornographic film, because
that’s within my rights.
I also have the right to pray regular
ly, give money to the homeless, have a
nuclear family and spout hateful
rhetoric.
How does this all tie together,
you’re asking? The moral majority
wants to take those right away, the
ACLU wants to defend them.
Call me anti-morals, I guess.
I believe that gay couples should
have the same legal rights as neo-Nazi
couples. I believe that we need this
equality for everyone, the people we
love and the people we hate.
Ironically, both sides often disagree
with me.
The conservatives claim that the
resurgence of family values in politics
will stop people from corrupting their
children with “impure ideas and
thoughts.” Oftentimes, they cite
Christian values, as if everyone in
America has to be Christian
by default. Surprise, I don’t
think that any book can tell
me what to believe, no
matter how long it’s been
around.
The liberals, weirdly
enough, often claim that
hate speech shouldn’t be
tolerated because it cor
rupts children, who will be
tainted with “vile ideas
and thoughts” Well, I’U be.
It may be despicable, but
I’ve got the right to listen to it too.
So where does this put me?
Somewhere further than anyone, other
than the ACLU, wants to go apparently.
Sure, I do lean towards the liberals
politically (because I’m asking for peo
ple to be treated equally, go figure) but
I think that’s just an extension of this
speech theory.
Everyone is equal: men, women,
people of any color, sexual orientation,
religious preference, political prefer
ence or any other distinction, minor-of
major, between any individual or group
of people.
These “moral distinctions” that
people try and define as “right and
wrong” or what is “good/bad for chil
dren” are nothing but speculative hog
wash that needs to be exiled from poli
tics as soon as possible.
Despite what it may claim, the
“moral majority,” like any group of
people, is a minority. More and more,
as we run headlong towards the hori
zon, the influence of a “majority” is
fading.
Maybe some day we’ll be
able to handle being unique and
diverse individuals. Until then, howev
er, the bickering will go on, the law
makers will pass biases and the ACLU
will fight them and I’ll bitch to anyone
whose attention I can get for a few min
utes.
The next time you hear people talk
ing about things you don’t like, take it
with a bit of pride, because when they
want to shut you up, they can’t.
And while we may have to put up
with enduring their annoyingly back
water “bring God back into politics”
speech, take heart in the fact that the
public eye is rapidly turning away from
them.
I believe in pure freedom of speech
not because some God tells me to, but
because I want the same liberty afford
ed to me.
Someone ask the “moral majority”
if we should start excluding people
from equal rights because they’re
Christian and they’ll usually give you a
blank stare.
That, in itself, says it all.
Melanie Falk/DN
Love the sinner
God protects all his children despite their earthly acts
J. J. HARDER is a senior
political science and
broadcasting major and a
Daily Nebraskan colum
nist.
My fingertips press against the
heavy glass door and I push it open
slowly. The downtown cafe is quiet
this Sunday afternoon, with just a few
scattered customers engaged in vari
ous conversations. I make my way
back to the private room, eager to see
a friend. I’m just in time for the end
of my colleague’s going-away party.
John, I guess we’ll call him John,
is tall and thin. His reddish-blond hair
is cut short and his hairline is slightly
receding. He’s almost 40, but doesn’t
nearly look it.
1 walk into the room and see him
sitting in the back, legs crossed, talk
ing with another middle-aged man.
He doesn’t notice me at first, but then
finally sees me and jumps to his feet.
“Hi!” said John, “I didn’t think
you d show up here.”
His words resonate in my mind
over and over. What’s that supposed
to mean anyhow?
“Come sit down,” he said, “Have
a brownie or something.”
I hardly even notice the food in
front of me, I’m still thinking about
what he just said. I look around and it
finally hits me as to what he is talking
about. Besides a few older women,
who appear to be family, the room is
entirely filled with middle-aged men.
Gay men.
“How’ve you been?” I said. “It
seems like I haven’t seen you forev
er.”
“Well, I got a new job out of state,
and just sold my house,” said John.
“I’ve got to take care of a few last
things and I’m leaving Wednesday.”
He’d resigned from work and had
been looking for another job for
about a month. I’m happy to hear that
he’d found something new, but I’m
still regretting not being able to spend
more time with him. Somehow his
homosexuality got in the way. I let his
actions and society’s reaction to them
cloud my ability to just hang out with
him. I guess I kept forgetting that he’s
just a regular guy.
Uur conversation dwindles, and
since the party is almost over, I
assume he’s going to politely send me
off so he can wrap things up.
“You know I really appreciate you
coming today,” said John. “You’re the
only one from work that came.”
“What about our boss?”
“No, but I was sure that someone
would show up, I don’t know, maybe
something came up...
“I’m real sorry about that, John,”
I said. “I’m sure we all got the memo
about it.”
“I guess they just wouldn’t feel
comfortable coming to a place that’s
full of gay men.”
All of the sudden the room
becomes dead silent. His somber tone
of voice really hits home with me. All
the years of service to our company,
and no one would show their faces. I
can tell being shunned has really hurt
him. I just want to take the blame for
all of the bitterness that he has now.
He’s been treated unfairly, and my
heart can’t help but go out to him.
I’m not an emotional man, but in my
entire life, I’ve never wanted to cry as
much as I did at this moment.
Tears start to well up in my eyes,
and I put my head down to hide them.
As I am composing myself, I felt
something inside that told me things
were not quite right. I’m thinking
about all the times I could’ve talked
to John before, I could have spent
time with him outside of work, gotten
to know him better.
I want to share my faith with him.
My faith in Jesus. As I look up at
him, his eyes told me he was waiting
for me to speak. I’m thinking about
what God would want me to say, I’m
just searching for guidance.
I remember how God said m the
Bible: For the wages of sin is death,
but the free gift q? God is in Jesus
Christ our Lord. And how he also
says in his word thsjthomosexuality
is a sin.
“John,” I said, “I want you to
know that I love you. I love you as a
child of God.” fi
He gets a curious look on his face
as I attempt to put my thoughts into
words. He’s patient and eager to hear
what I have to say.
“You know, John,” I said, “I’ve
got to tell you something. I feel like
I’m deceiving you if I don’t say ...
John, I don’t approve of what you’re
doing, what you call your lifestyle. I
just feel like I dishonor God if I don’t
talk to you about it.”
“You don’t understand how much
I feel I was bom this ...”
“Please listen,” I said, “I’m not
here to argue with you at all. I just
want to tell you that I follow Christ.
That’s where my love comes from,
and that’s why I want you to know
about God.”
He pauses and lets out a breath,
then slowly breathes in another. His
chin relaxes to his chest and collects
his thoughts.
“Thank you for being real with
me,” John said. “Most Christians
aren’t like that. They hold up signs
that say ‘God hates fags,’ and just
condemn what I do.”
I can see him clenching his teeth
to hold in his emotions, and my heart
begins to weigh on me. I want to be
able to take back every ungodly thing
every Christian has ever said, all of
the hurt that has been caused in the
name of God. And the expression on
his face told me exactly what he
thought about Christianity.
“God isn’t like that,” I said. “He
doesn’t hate anyone; he just hates our
sin. And he has a plan for each one if
us. Don’t forget that, John. No matter
what, remember that God loves you.”
A look of solace comes over his
face, and I can tell something
touched him. But more importantly,
he has touched me. I reach over and
give him a long hug. I’m still beating
my emotions down, hiding them
inside.
We exchange last good-byes, and
I turn towards the door. He sits down
to talk with another friend, and gives
me a smile before I go. I return with a
grin, and make my way out of the
cafe.
I get to my car, still pondering the
experience the entire way. I lean my
head back on the seat and rub my
eyes, as thoughts race through my
mind. Maybe I did the right thing,
and somehow God will use our talk
to his glory. Or maybe I was judging
John, and I’m just as bad as those
people with the hate signs. I think
about how society is changing its
views on homosexuality, and how
God’s views are always the same.
I get a sobering reminder that I’m
equally sinful myself. Some people
treat gays as committing some kind
of sin worse than all of the rest. To
God, it’s just a sin like any other.
I put my head on the steering
wheel and really start to cry. I can’t
change the actions of others. All I can
do is love people for just being souls
created by God. Today I think I final
ly truly loved one of those precious
souls. My heart wants to rejoice that
my cold, callused self has actually
been touched by what God really
means when he says “love.” But all I
can think about is John saying “God
hates fags,” over and over again in my
head. Then I think about the phrase
“Love the sinner, hate the sin.” And I
wonder how many Christians really
apply that to every sinner. -
