Monday, March 02, 2009

Art Not Chance - Catholics Not Welcome Still


"I have hated the Church way before anyone else." Bill Maher


Alexander Pope's family was not allowed to live within 'ten miles of London or Windsor.' That was due to the very acceptable anti-Catholic sentiment that flourished in Britain and still is quite fashionable in the United States.

Bill Maher's whipping of the Pope's Dogs in America - all 60 million of us - gave him the Bulliest of Pulpits - TV. Maher goes unchallenged and unchecked and will continue to do so. He even has a movie out that no one I know has seen, but everyone has heard about - Buzzzzzzzz.

Boston College reviewed the movie:

Religulous is incredibly indicative of Maher's love to stir up trouble and surely offended those who identify with the Holy Land or creationist museum guests. Instead of striving to inspire religious questioning, Maher attacks beliefs that are dear to a huge demographic. Charles' style is reminiscent of his pervious work on Borat, as Religulous attempts to go over the heads of those at whom it pokes fun. Just like Borat, Charles takes the back seat and lets the lead (Maher) take the driver seat to craft his style of humor.

After his prolific talk show history, Maher takes his disregard for others' feelings to the big screen in Religulous. Although entertaining, Maher falls short of convincing many to question their beliefs; instead, he alienates those who might sympathize with his cause.


http://media.www.bcheights.com/media/storage/paper144/news/2009/02/19/TheScene/Mahers.religulous.Able.To.Stir.Up.Extremism.But.Not.Debate-3637016-page2.shtml

PC gave Maher carte blanche, but it failed to fuel the clown with talent or genuine insights - human much less divine. Maher tools for others who hate Catholics in particular and religion in general.

HBO gave the raving anti-Catholic Bill Maher a wonderful platform from which to insult sixty (60) million Americans. Renegade Catholics are lionized like George Carlin, Eugene O'Neill, or F. Scott Fitzgerald. America has no place for Catholics in text books ( try and find any reference to the Carrolls of Maryland; John Barry Father of the US Navy; or American Philosopher Orestes Brownson). Devout Catholics are dissected on a Procrustean rack by context critics and semiotic totalitarians and then tossed aside as slaves to the Vatican.

Like writing itself, this fashionable American bigotry is practised. Good writing requires continued practice. As Pope wrote," True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, / As those move easiest who have learned to dance"
In Essay on Criticism, Pope defended literary orthodoxies and savage attention to virtues, patriotism, and piety in Faith. Writers are not 'outside' themselves it seems. A writer who would attack a life-long friend in an attempt to curry favor with a patron, could not devote himself to the canons of taste that command all literary arts,

Likewise, trendy bigots can spew hate in fashionable epithets and sound bytes

But if in Noble Minds some Dregs remain,
Not yet purg'd off, of Spleen and sow'r Disdain,
Discharge that Rage on more Provoking Crimes,
Nor fear a Dearth in these Flagitious Times.
No Pardon vile Obscenity should find,
Tho' Wit and Art conspire to move your Mind;
But Dulness with Obscenity must prove
As Shameful sure as Importance in Love.
In the fat Age of Pleasure, Wealth, and Ease,
Sprung the rank Weed, and thriv'd with large Increase;
When Love was all an easie Monarch's Care;
Seldom at Council, never in a War:
Jilts rul'd the State, and Statesmen Farces writ;
Nay Wits had Pensions, and young Lords had Wit:
The Fair sate panting at a Courtier's Play,
And not a Mask went un-improv'd away:
The modest Fan was liked up no more,
And Virgins smil'd at what they blush'd before--
The following Licence of a Foreign Reign
Did all the Dregs of bold Socinus drain;
Then Unbelieving Priests reform'd the Nation,
And taught more Pleasant Methods of Salvation;
Where Heav'ns Free Subjects might their Rights dispute,
Lest God himself shou'd seem too Absolute.
Pulpits their Sacred Satire learn'd to spare,
And Vice admir'd to find a Flatt'rer there!
Encourag'd thus, Witt's Titans brav'd the Skies,
And the Press groan'd with Licenc'd Blasphemies--
These Monsters, Criticks! with your Darts engage,
Here point your Thunder, and exhaust your Rage!
Yet shun their Fault, who, Scandalously nice,
Will needs mistake an Author into Vice;
All seems Infected that th' Infected spy,
As all looks yellow to the Jaundic'd Eye.

LEARN then what MORALS Criticks ought to show,
For 'tis but half a Judge's Task, to Know.
'Tis not enough, Taste, Judgment, Learning, join;
In all you speak, let Truth and Candor shine:
That not alone what to your Sense is due,
All may allow; but seek your Friendship too.

Be silent always when you doubt your Sense;
And speak, tho' sure, with seeming Diffidence:
Some positive persisting Fops we know,
Who, if once wrong, will needs be always so;
But you, with Pleasure own your Errors past,
An make each Day a Critick on the last.

'Tis not enough your Counsel still be true,
Blunt Truths more Mischief than nice Falsehood do;
Men must be taught as if you taught them not;
And Things unknown propos'd as Things forgot:
Without Good Breeding, Truth is disapprov'd;
That only makes Superior Sense belov'd.

Be Niggards of Advice on no Pretence;
For the worst Avarice is that of Sense:
With mean Complacence ne'er betray your Trust,
Nor be so Civil as to prove Unjust;
Fear not the Anger of the Wise to raise;
Those best can bear Reproof, who merit Praise.

'Twere well, might Criticks still this Freedom take;
But Appius reddens at each Word you speak,
And stares, Tremendous! with a threatning Eye
Like some fierce Tyrant in Old Tapestry!
Fear most to tax an Honourable Fool,
Whose Right it is, uncensur'd to be dull;
Such without Wit are Poets when they please.
As without Learning they can take Degrees.
Leave dang'rous Truths to unsuccessful Satyrs,
And Flattery to fulsome Dedicators,
Whom, when they Praise, the World believes no more,
Than when they promise to give Scribling o'er.
'Tis best sometimes your Censure to restrain,
And charitably let the Dull be vain:
Your Silence there is better than your Spite,
For who can rail so long as they can write?
Still humming on, their drowzy Course they keep,
And lash'd so long, like Tops, are lash'd asleep.
False Steps but help them to renew the Race,
As after Stumbling, Jades will mend their Pace.
What Crouds of these, impenitently bold,
In Sounds and jingling Syllables grown old,
Still run on Poets in a raging Vein,
Ev'n to the Dregs and Squeezings of the Brain;
Strain out the last, dull droppings of their Sense,
And Rhyme with all the Rage of Impotence!
From Essay on Criticism by Alexander Pope (1688-1744)

Clowns like Maher get the job done for their masters. Their Masters are the people who have eliminated the canons of taste in all of the Arts, in Politics, and in common societal discourse. I call them The Who's To Say-ers: 'Who's to say Lesbianism at the Grammies is not what Americans demand; that humorless PC gelds literature and art.' I do not find Maher clever or funny. He lacks depth of thought and practiced attention to the canons of humor. He is an outrageous loudmouth.

Pope had it right. 'Tis best sometimes your Censure to restrain,
And charitably let the Dull be vain:
Your Silence there is better than your Spite,
For who can rail so long as they can write?

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