September 25, 2005

Yesterday, I received a message from a reader in Australia. It gave me the idea for today’s column. Here is the message:

The last sentence of the Aussie’s message was particularly perceptive. Along the same theme, I recently read these lines from an article written by John Goldhammer for the Axis of Logic website:

Ever since I returned in 1983 from living in Europe for eight years, I have felt like I am on the outside of the lion and can see it clearly. Yet, the vast majority of U.S. citizens live inside and see little or nothing.

For the past two decades +, I have lived as a foreigner in my own country. At first, it was overwhelming and I thought a crazed science fiction writer had written the script for what was occurring in the United States. Each year, it seemed to get worse, yet my words were spoken to deaf ears.

The same country that I left in 1975 had regressed into a dangerous entity. In the mid-1970s, the U.S. public did not support war. It had its fill with Vietnam. My countrypeople were secular. Sure, some practiced a religion, but it was done within the confines of religious institutions. For my first 27 years, nobody asked what religion I practiced. Such actions would have been considered in poor taste.

Within my first week of landing back on the shores of the U.S., several people asked me "what religion do you practice?" My response was the same: "None. I am an atheist." With that answer, all those who questioned me either ran away or turned their backs on me and grumbled some nasty statement, and then ran away. Things certainly had changed.

The cultural revolution of the 1960s had now turned into a counter-cultural revolution that was about to take my country back in time and alter it into a war-mongering thoughtless nation.

Today, the counter-cultural revolution is in full force. Aspects that were accepted in the 1960s, like smoking marijuana or women going topless at a beach, are now considered criminal acts. The widespread methods of appearance that people practiced are long gone. No more casual or colorful dress in the workplace; long hair is out; and false formality is in full swing.

After about a year of living in frustration, I began to meet people who did not fit into the establishment role: a dope-smoking carpenter who was obsessed with geodomes and the engineering behind such buildings; a tennis-playing hippie who had been working for 20 years on restoring a junk boat in his driveway and was still 20 years away from making it sailable; and an African-American photographer who spoke five languages, yet was always asked in a bar, "Wathca want, boy? Rum and Coke?" These acquaintances were not deep, but I observed that there were others in society who did not fit the norm. Today, without scientific data to back my theory, I conclude that about 4% of the U.S. public fits into the outside-the-lion category.

After a few years, one becomes used to living like an underground guerilla in his own country. And, it becomes easier to identify those of similar lifestyles. The nuances are subtle, but read by those who are not mainstream.

For instance, before major league baseball games in the U.S., the national anthem, the Star Spangled Banner, is played. When I used to attend games at the Jack Murphy Stadium in San Diego, I left my seat as the fans rose to sing the song. I went down a ramp and stood next to the snack bar and went back to my seat after the anthem ended. Each time I performed this non-compliant act, I noticed a half dozen or so others standing in the same area. They were there for the same reason as I. We did not know each other, but we smiled when eye contact was made. No words were necessary.

Today, I am accosted from many angles about religion or patriotism. In parking lots, people ask me, "Oh, where is your flag bumper sticker?" or "Where is your 'I support the troops’ bumper sticker?" I tell the questioners that such a display runs contrary to my philosophies and beliefs. Some do not understand the words I use, while others give me a dirty look. More than once, I have said, "Go perform a self-gratifying sexual act that defies the laws of physics." This gets them scratching their heads in bewilderment as I drive away.

It is refreshing to meet someone and quickly the word "imperialism" comes up. That is a word that is only used in the U.S. by people who are outside the lion’s body. Every few months, I talk to someone for the first time and "imperialism" comes up. A new comrade.

These are trying times for U.S. atheists, leftists, and nonconformists. But there are enough of them for people like me to gain meaningful relationships. Let me introduce you to a few of my acquaintances who make tolerable the unbearable.

Bet Halsema is an 82-year-old philosopher with a PhD degree from the University of Mexico. At one time, he was the president of a one-man organization called "The Society for the Militant Godless." When I asked him about the group, he said he resigned shortly after its inception. Why? "Too much work," he replied.

My Iraqi-American friend Issam is an unabashed supporter of the Ba’athist regime. He lived in Iraq for six months a year and the U.S. for six months annually during the 1990s. He is at the forefront of every anti-racist movement in San Diego County. Despite his being marginalized in his own country (he is a nationalized U.S. citizen), his altruism leads him to stick up for all ostracized Americans.

Then, there’s my friend Husayn, one of the world’s finest journalists. He has uncovered many a dastardly plot including Israel’s nuclear weapons program and police brutality in various U.S. communities. He has long hair and integrity unseen in mainstream America.

Add to these about a dozen or so aware people of various races and backgrounds, and you have the crux of my close comrades.

I also have a few unorthodox friends from the field of professional wrestling, an entertainment genre that is looked down upon by most of the intelligencia in the U.S. However, if they are honest, many watch this indigenous form of theater in a squared circle.

The Honky Tonk Man gained fame by portraying an Elvis Presley lookalike. He has greasy slicked-back hair and enters the ring with a guitar. Honky Tonk is a bad guy who wins while the referee has his back turned to the action by hitting his opponent over the head with his instrument.

Sounds like mindless stuff, however, what you see isn’t real. The Honky Tonk Man is Wayne Farris, a graduate of Memphis State University with an MA in Education. His gimmick has made him a living for three decades, but Farris is far from the hick he portrays. Today, he wrestles about 70 matches a year and he also makes money with personal appearances. He is a man of integrity who has taken on the professional wrestling industry and chastised those who are cheats and liars.

The younger generation admires Farris because of his outspoken views and actions. I once told him, "Wayne, you are rare in that a wrestler of your age normally doesn’t like the younger generation because of their styles and social mores. Yet, you are their hero." He responded, "Ah don’t give a shit if they have blue hair or wear body rings. At their age, I had long hair and looked different from today. I remember those days and can empathize with them."

By the way, the first time I ever talked to Farris, I asked him if he plays the guitar. His response was short and precise: "Ah can’t play a fucking note."

Another grappler who stands out above the rest in creativity and integrity is The Genius. His real name is Lanny Poffo. During his heyday, Poffo took to the ring dressed in a cap and gown and proclaimed himself "The World’s Smartest Man." He read original poetry before every match in which he denigrated his opponents and the fans. He was a bad guy.

Today, I am a friend of The Genius. We talk frequently about life and world affairs. He is an outspoken critic of war and a supporter of many political causes, such as a woman’s right to choose to terminate a pregnancy and scientific research in the area of stem cell research. In addition, he opposes all forms of racism, homophobia and ethnocentrism. He is sociologically, mentally and psychologically heads and shoulders above the people inside the lion.

Poffo has written thousands of poems and has two books to his credit. Every once in a while, he comes up with a simple statement that speaks volumes. Here’s my favorite: "He who knows not and knows he knows not is better off than he who knows not and believes he knows."

For my Australian friend, I thank him for his sympathy. He is accurate in his assessment of someone of my nature living in the U.S. However, I have come across enough people who live outside the lion to make life tolerable. Although, we must still be aware of the lion’s presence and take precautions against him catching our asses and swallowing us.

I would rather include in my list of friends adults who dress in caps and gowns or Elvis Presley outfits; or dope-smoking philosophers; or long-haired radical journalists than I would the entire population that lives inside the lion.