Showing posts with label hypocrisy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hypocrisy. Show all posts

23 April 2026

The Baby Christian Jesus President

 Today I am not going to write about cycling or midlife.  But I somehow believe that what I am about to say is a midlife reflection of the sort I might have during a ride.

I was brought up Catholic. Later I became an Evangelical Christian. I explored other religions.  Though I can feel some affinity, and great respect, for Buddhism (mainly because I don’t see it so much as a religion, at least as I understand it, as a way of being centered on learning and teaching), I identify as an agnostic non-theist.  That is to say, I don’t believe in a “higher being” but, because no one has been able to prove, or disprove, the existence of such a being, I cannot dismiss the possibility of its existence.

So why am I mentioning what I do or don’t believe? Well, reading Bruce Gerenscer’s post today got me to thinking about how Evangelical Christians (like the one I was) and conservative Catholics give their full-throated support to Donald Trump.  And the more un-Christian (at least as I understand the faith) his behavior, the louder and sometimes more belligerently they defend him.

What really got me thinking about this phenomenon, however, was a particular point Bruce made. Six decades ago, many people—some not even particularly religious—took umbrage at John Lennon exclaiming “We’re more popular than Jesus.” Actually, the outrage was, and continues to be, over how the tabloids misrepresented, and the public mis-remembers, what he said: that the Beatles were “bigger” than Jesus.

Even if John, normally the most articulate Beatle, could have said it differently, his point was valid:  His group and rock’n’roll music generally had more influence on young people than Christianity or any other religion. I think church leaders, and many everyday believers, were more worried that they were losing their authority than over a band’s or a musical genre’s popularity.

I was a young child at the time, and I recall that many kids weren’t allowed to have Beatles’ records or albums, or even to listen to their music on the radio.  I wasn’t subject to such a ban, mainly because my parent’s didn’t listen to the Beatles or other British Invasion bands: Their tastes ran more toward Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons and Concetta Franconero, a.k.a. Connie Francis. (I think every Italian-American family in my milieu had a similar playlist!) 

Anyway, in contrast to the anger, some from not-particularly-religious people, at Lennon, Evangelical and Fundamentalist Christians, and conservative Catholics, raised barely a peep—some even applauded—when an AI-generated image of the Fake Tan Führer as a Christ-like healer spread across the web and airwaves. And when he excoriated the Pope for denouncing the war (let’s call it what it is) against Iran and being “soft on crime” (last I checked, the Vatican had the lowest crime—at least as it’s defined by law enforcement and investigative agencies—rate of any country). If anything, they justify “Baby Christian” Trump’s belligerent words and deeds by admonishing his critics not to “judge, lest ye be judged.” Perhaps that’s also their rationale for not calling out J.D. Vance—a recent convert to Catholicism—when he told the Pope to “be careful” about speaking of matters of theology.





Perhaps the most ironic aspect of the events I’ve just described is that the most pointed critiques of Trump’s and Vance’s blasphemies have come from people who aren’t religious: secular Christians and Jews, even atheists and non-affiliated believers.  I must admit that I, too, feel even more ire at folks like Trump and Vance hijacking religious beliefs and iconography, and attacking religious leaders, than I might have were I still a believer. Why? Well, as I said earlier, even though I don’t believe, I still have respect for those who actually do and, more importantly, use it as a moral foundation for their lives rather than as a cloak over their calumny. After all, I can no more prove that their God doesn’t exist than they can prove he/she/they/it does. They have a right to believe, just as I have right not to. If the Pope is a guide and Jesus is an avatar for them—or if any other religious leader spreads a message of love—I am willing to denounce anyone who dares to defame or mis-appropriate them.

31 October 2019

In Costume

I haven't posted in a while.  Halloween might seem like an odd day to return after an absence, especially when that hiatus is a result of my mother's passing.  If she is anywhere, she knows I mean no disrespect:  If anything, she probably would be happy that I'm blogging again.  And that I've been doing some other writing--and cycling.

It seems, however, appropriate, to write a post about this:




It seems that everyone and everything in that photo is in costume.  Grant Petersen sometimes refers to lycra racing kit as a "costume."  And millennials with "ironic" beards and shaved heads are, by definition, in costume.




I couldn't help but to think, though, that the bike is in costume, too.  I mean, aside from the fact that it has two wheels, pedals and handlebars--and no motor--it doesn't bear much resemblance to other bicycles I've seen.  Perhaps it's really a tuning fork in the guise of a velocipede.


British Cycling collaborated with Lotus and Hope Engineering--British makers of sports cars and high-end bicycle componentry, respectively--to build the bike.  BC's track racing team plans to ride it in the 2020 Olympics--unless it is banned. 


Don't get me wrong:  I am not against developing such bikes.  Racers want every advantage they can get, and the hopes of a nation ride (pun intended) on its national team.  I just hope that new bikes made for everyday riders aren't made to look like that--or, more important, require the proprietary technology that is of little or no use to anyone who isn't trying to set a record or win a medal.


At the same time, if the bike is banned by the Union Cycliste Internationale (UCI) or just about any other governing body--as Matthew Beedham expects it to be--I think it would be a hypocritical and simply dishonest move.  When the UCI or whoever decides not to allow bikes that are too technically advanced, or simply lightweight, for their tastes--or when they decide to regulate just about anything else, their rationale is always something along the lines of "We want the man, not the machine, to win."


I could respect such a stance if the UCI, the USA Cycling or any other governing body were serious, or at least consistent,  in enforcing policies about performance-enhancing drugs.  But, if Lance Armstrong used drugs (and intimidated his teammates into silence about it), I find it hard to believe that the UCI, USA Cycling or any other governing body didn't know.  Given that the Tour de France's--and competitive cycling in general's--reputation was in tatters after doping scandals involving the Festina team as well as other riders, the UCI and other organizations had every incentive to look the other way when Lance--especially with his "feel good" story--won.


Perhaps the folks at UCI, USA Cycling and similar organizations are wearing costumes:  those of "concerned guardians" of their sport.


By the way:  The bearded guy in the first photo is holding an image of a bike the UCI banned twice.  First, the Lotus 108 was barred under a 1987 ban on carbon-fiber monocoque frames.  Then the prohibition was overturned, but after a number of riders raced successfully on the 108, the UCI  used its "Lugano Charter" to outlaw Lotus' racing machine once again.