What is a hero? Sure, it’s a tasty sandwich, but I’m thinking of the other meaning on the word.

I guess it depends on which side of the proposed hero you stand. If you face him or her, you probably don’t think they’re heroic, but if you stand behind them, you do.

Here’s what the dictionary thinks a hero is: (1) In mythology and legend, a man, often of divine ancestry, who is endowed with great courage and strength, celebrated for his bold exploits, and favored by the gods. (2) A person noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose, especially one who has risked or sacrificed his or her life. (3) A person noted for special achievement in a particular field. (4) The principal male character in a novel, poem, or dramatic presentation.

Earlier today, I made a dramatic presentation when the barista at Starbucks left chunks of ice in my Frappucino that would not traverse the tubing of my straw. Does that make me a hero? Of course not, it just makes me heroically thirsty.

I would like to examine the first definition of hero listed: “often of divine ancestry…and favored by the gods.” Lewis H. Lapham of Harpers Magazine makes the case in the April 2003 issue that he believes our war against Iraq is a holy war. He claims our principal leaders in the United States government are unquestionably Christian in their morality and Christian teachings inform their views. While this is no shocker, it is interesting to imagine that we have waged jihad and not the radical Muslim population. Our values are based primarily in Christian morality, that is for certain, and our attempt to bring democracy to Iraq smacks of crusade.

Some will undoubtedly balk this notion and point to the capitalist interests in Iraqi oil. Others will claim our goals are to liberate the people of Iraq from an evil tyrant or to rid the world of the axis of evil. Whatever your chosen argument may be, I think it is safe to say that we wish that the terrorists and dictators of the world would see things our way, open their minds to democracy, open their hearts to (dare I say) our Christian-based morality.

Every person of faith who acts on a doctrine-based morality can say they are favored by their god. The first definition would make them heroes. George W. Bush, then, would most certainly be a hero. For the second definition, action based in faith is not sufficient. One must perform “feats of courage or nobility.” Both abstract concepts, it seems that courage and nobility vary from person to person. Often, I believe the person who doesn’t fight is more courageous than the one who does. And nobility evolves too quickly to been constrained by a simple definition. What was noble 20 years ago (i.e. the Yuppie) is not necessarily noble now. So we’ll exclude the second definition from our examination. Wasn’t there a time (the 1984 renewal of relations between the U.S. and Iraq) that Saddam Hussein was thought to be both noble and courageous? Or was the U.S. merely trying to position itself favorably in the Iran-Iraq war?

There’s one definition left not based in fiction (assuming you believe in reality and non-fiction). A person noted for special achievement in a particular field. What is special? What is achievement? I’m assuming by field the creators of the definition aren’t referring to wheat. Perhaps this definition informs the continued success of the Guinness Book of Records, where people attempt to eat the most hard-boiled eggs or grow the longest mustache. By definition, these people are heroes.

So where does this leave us? The president is a hero. The man who spins more plates than anyone else is a hero. One who performs ambiguous feats of courage and nobility is a hero. All of these definitions are problematic when considering perspective. However, heroes make us aspire for greatness. I suppose that only leaves us with famous athletes and actors to adore.

The war is not so much the news today. We have Laci Peterson and budget cuts breaking headlines instead.

Everything has channels, and I am compelled to switch them when there is a lull. So I change my news, but usually I retain my perspective for each story, one that is emotionless and analytical.

But sometimes I feel a stabbing sensation when I watch stories like Laci Peterson’s. It’s like the turning of a needle you use to dig out a thorn.

No, that’s not true. This pain is different; it triggers nausea and the sweats. Perhaps its more like the tingle one might feel as a SWAT member leading the charge on a violent gang/drug house with no flak jacket.

I wonder how I will survive. I wonder how anyone survives.

I can trace the feeling’s origins for you. Just for one nanosecond, I really imagine what it would be like to be that person or to be a member of their family. I fully stand in another’s boots and let my mind understand the terrifying experience. This fantasy is a flashbulb in the dark, and it burns on in my mind’s eye.

And then the paranoia that I normally contain with a heavy gasoline tarp is ignited. How can we survive? How can anyone survive. It seems impossible.

After the paranoia has burned down, I’m left with only one answer: we don’t survive. Sure, we can imagine survival, but it is just a game to keep us occupied. This thought is oddly comforting and disperses the smoke and ashes left behind by the flames of my paranoia.

Only then can I go back to the nightly buffet of brutality and horror on my media of choice with a light heart and clear conscience.

What exists in the natural world is natural. If we could exist in a world tangent to the natural one, then we could clearly determine whether or not something had natural qualities and say something was unnatural. We do not exist in such a place and, therefore, do not have the ability to judge something as such.

What follows this argument is that everything you see is part and parcel of the natural world. From the plastic jug of lube that inhabits the lower drawer of your nightstand to the pretty pictures that appear on your monitor, everything is natural. The miracles of modern medicine and all of the wonders of science and physics: natural. The vast network of connections that make up the internet: absolutely natural.

The only discrimination offered is by way of the politics of perspective. Ever since Og lifted a stone and bashed in the skull of his brother, Gog, there has been a witness (Og’s other brother, Mog) to decry the act as unnatural. When primitive man moved to arrows, the spear-crowd said it would destroy the hunting traditions. When the first car rolled down the street, the horse-and-buggy drivers spat at its exhaust.

Each new change calls to order a committee of dissent. Each passing day diffuses this dissent until it is little more than a whisper from your conscience.

To me, the beauty of the natural world lies in the potential of every piece and part to become something else. Plants, animals and minerals can be food, clothing, shelter or any number of other things. We even can make ourselves into anything we emotionally desire, if not physically then in the imagination. And when we die, some believe that our personalities transcend the natural world entirely and our spirits survive in a celestial plane. If this be the case, how many people might be wandering around outside of the heavenly sphere, kicking stones in distrust of what’s happening inside?

I think that often our surprise is cause enough to label something unnatural. We don’t know how to react, don’t have the resources to draw conclusions and we do not want to take the time to understand, so we reject unconditionally. This approach to seemingly unnatural acts, based in fear and mystery, is completely natural.

WAR GAMES!

Just when you thought your media was getting too realistic in its portrayal of the war, CNN offers you the ability look at and to fire the guns on various pieces of military equipment in cartoony 3-D! This would be really cool if it didn’t scare the shit out of me.

Here’s another email from the same reader who responded in the last blahg. The point the reader makes is very good. In fact, this point is so important that entire university communication and journalism programs have been formed around it.

How do we stay objectively informed of the state of the world when our news is subjectively reported?

The reader makes another strong point regarding the effect of subjective reporting on our troops. Read on if you like…

Writing like this (dead link) really hurts. I know what our soldiers are going through and I think I know what drives journalists, sensationalism. This article makes it look like most of the troops feel this way. What do you think this does for morale? With low morale our forces become endangered.

And my response…

Your point touches on exactly what I continuously prattle on about in floating foam: you just can’t trust what you read or see. Subjective journalists only cover certain stories that they hope will attract readers. This is not a free speech issue as much as a capitalist issue. When your story must drive sales, you will try to make it as catchy as possible. For this reason I wrote:

“The images looked exactly like the ones we saw more than a decade ago. Perhaps they are the same ones. How would I know any different? Seeing how I don’t claim to know a damned speck of truth about this whole war, why should I feel any more informed by the same distant images provided in unison by every teevee station?”

The same issues of media misinforming the public pervade us on every level. All of our opinions are formed from watching TV and reading the paper. Our opinions of people, politics, business and entertainment are created based on the opinions of others who may or may not be qualified. It is a sad state of affairs, but the alternatives (state run news) are even more frightening.

Typically, I prefer the likes of NPR, where the stories are substantially explored from a variety of resources, not just a couple of troops the reporter was standing next to. And another thing, Reuters is a British News Agency, which brings to mind the lack of control anyone can have in the information age. I can read newspapers from any part of the world whenever I want. How would it be possible to control all of that? Would we even want to?