Call me crazy, but then what? (Cries from the Peanut Gallery DTH column)

So we as a society see someone do something crazy, right? Crazy here meaning demonstrably irrational -- something we can't imagine ourselves doing, be it climbing a water tower, whispering madly to oneself about gophers, wearing clashing plaids or mass murder.

"Well, that's insane," we say to ourselves. "Totally senseless." We call it "crazy," and that's descriptive. It describes how alien the action is to us.

Then we look at the particular perpetrator of this act, and as with the act, we attempt to understand them -- not so much a conscious thing, but more of an automatic reaction where our brain sees something new and instinctively tries to wrap itself around it like white blood cells digesting a bacterial infection.

Failing to understand this person, we call him or her crazy. This is also descriptive -- we're noting that this particular person is in the habit of doing things we find to be eccentric, unnerving or horrifying in a conventional, logical or moral sense.

Here's where it gets tricky. Having bracketed off the actor and actions as "loony," our brain can simply stop trying to understand them. And then suddenly, "crazy" becomes more than descriptive. Now it's an explanation.

Now the "crazy" of the person is the reason and the origin of the "crazy" actions that we've been failing to comprehend. What'd they do? Oh my God, that's insane. Why'd they do it? Oh my God, it's because they're insane -- case closed, that's all there is to it.

This is misleading for a number of reasons. Also dangerous.

Up until now we've been using the word only to diagnose people and actions in terms of our particular view of the world. But this "crazy" can be easily conflated with the "crazy" that implies a professional medical diagnosis, which brings with it a greater sense of legitimacy.

But we might as well confuse the anecdotal and the medical crazies for now, because they're both a part of the same big fallacy.

We're assuming this irrational person is a closed system -- a little line segment of insanity unto itself that shares absolutely no points with any other ray, line or quadrilateral of earthly existence or humanity.

We can't even be parallel to the crazy line, because that would imply some sort of common trajectory, which is ridiculous because they're crazy and I don't know why.

And equipping ourselves with fancy medical terminology that attempts to do more than describe the crazy only perpetuates this problem. Oh, they have a disease -- chemicals in their brain made them do it.

But chemicals in our brain are responsible for everything we do. Every time I get angry you could simply ignore any of the possible causes of my anger and blame the chemicals in my brain -- and you'd be right!

But you'd be missing something. And it'd probably just make me angrier.



http://www.dailytarheel.com/article/2013/09/col-0919

Go home America, you're drunk (Cries from the Peanut Gallery DTH Column)

Title credits fade. We open on a wide shot, panning across the bloody, urban desert. America is a rogue cop, fed up with the bureaucratic nonsense and moral decay of modern society. He hits the streets like a medieval cowboy, cruising through today's international wasteland, dealing out his own blend of backwoods, home-distillery justice. Vigilante justice, that is.

So look out Lex Luthor; watch out al-Assad, because when grizzled ex-detective America comes back out of retirement, no one is safe from his hairy, irrational bravado.

But wait! "Rogue cop" feels far too 20th century -- and a little too straightforward as far as moral logic is concerned. That's obviously America for some, but I'm not satisfied yet. Let's try that again.

America is a superhero (global superpower, right?). But not one of those infallible and covertly jingoistic heroes like Captain America or Superman -- although there's definitely something of America in both of them.

No, America is one of those morally ambiguous heroes, like Batman, the Punisher, the Boondock Saints or someone from the "Watchmen." (And who watches the Watchmen? Certainly not the U.N.)

But letting America be Batman is giving the nation far too much credit. Clever and resourceful? Maybe. Ignorant of laws and customs, here and abroad? Well, yeah. Vengeful and affluent? Most definitely.

But Batman is at least aware of his collateral damage -- not to mention subtle (don't make me laugh, CIA). He has the foresight to understand that his actions have consequences, and that people he hurts might get angry and try to hurt him back.

And then there's that not insignificant ethical factor about Batman's aversion to guns and murder. I can't think of many superheroes who'd feel all right with bombing the biological daylights out of Baghdad or indiscriminately killing with assault drones.

America is a caped crusader, fighting for principles more essential and basic than any codified set of "laws." It's funny though that "caped crusader" has "crusade" built right in, which is pretty much modern shorthand for "severely misplaced fervor based on a sense of one's own cultural or national superiority, easily giving rise to violent irrationality."

I should be clear: These are Americas of the past (I hope). Bruce Wayne isn't that bad a guy! And I'm not saying vigilante justice is always inherently wrong. (Lord knows we might've used some in Rwanda.)

But America the Exceptional is that crusty old vigilante who keeps dramatically faking his death just to unexpectedly and "reluctantly" come out of retirement again -- as soon as another foolish young cop or endangered nation-state comes along to draw him out of the manor and into the street of extralegal intervention one more time.

So let's get out of that manor on the hill and find a different route. We can participate in some round-table discussions and make Gotham a little brighter. But let's put away that cape and cowl for good.



http://www.dailytarheel.com/article/2013/09/col-0905