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Dude!
And the Lord spoke, saying,
Moses, just listen. Everything is going to be fine. You're very high right now. You will probably be that way for about five more hours. Try taking some rose hip complex, myrrh complex... if you have a beer, go ahead and drink it. Just remember you're a living organism on this planet, and you're very safe. You've just taken a heavy drug. Relax, stay inside and listen to some music, Okay? Do you have any Allman Brothers? No, wait, they don't exist yet.
Sighted just now, outside my building:
A US Postal worker, leaning up against his truck, nose in a book by His Holiness the Dalai Lama. I think it was this one.
Behind him, watching a truck unload some furniture, was an African-American woman wearing a shirt that read, on the back, "I ain't afraid of no po-po!"
1. Deuce
2. Stephen
3. Bishop Tiny
4. Miss Jackson, If You're Nasty
5. Ingle
6. Al
7. Betty
8. Mo
9. Mister Truck
10. Marty Schwartz
So I wandered down to the Convention Center Saturday and mingled with the 8,000 or so Muslims currently convening in our city.
It was absurdly easy to get in. I didn't go as a member of the press, and even so all I had to do was give them a name -- any name -- and they printed up a badge with that name that I could hang around my neck and then, as far as I could tell, go pretty much anywhere I wanted to. They didn't ask me where I was from or inspect a driver's license or anything. We had the national UCC in town recently, and Congregationalists may actually have (slightly) tighter security. Once badged, I could go to the special "window" events for non-Muslims, but it seemed I could also go rub elbows with the convention crowd at other events. People who hate Muslims were afforded the same privileges, and some of them came and glared and demanded -- even of rank and file Muslims -- to know why they did not immediately put a stop to jihadism and violence. This is a little bit like somebody from Belgium grabbing my lapels and insisting I make President Bush (or Glenn Beck) stop doing what he's doing right now. If only it were that easy.
Like every convention, this one featured a large floor crowded with booths selling every imaginable product and service, although the Muslims playfully called theirs "the bazaar," and buyers were expected to haggle over prices and bargain the sellers down. Judging from what was for sale in the booths, these people are a lot more worried about mortgage financing, hair restoration, weight loss, incense, saris and foot cream than they are about, oh, overthrowing the West. No surprise to me. My regular contact with Muslims started here in Hartford in the 1970s, when the World Community of al-Islam in the West was active, as was the amazing Islamic Studies program of Hartford Seminary, still a major force in the world. People are people.
Can I guarantee there were no attendees who want to overthrow the West? I can not. A few attendees who detest Israel and Jews? They were there too, I'm sure, but they were not encouraged to share those thoughts. That was not the point of this convention and, although you will hear from peple who insist that the ICNA-MAS simply puts a smiling mask of bonhomie over its hatred for the West and Israel, I personally think that's a lot of nonsense. But this is a desert culture. They kind of invented the idea of the "big tent." The whole idea of a convention like this one is to get the grumpy West-hating Wahabbist side-by-side with the assimilated Muslim from Dearborn sporting a 401(k) and an iPhone. People have to keep talking, because the breakaway factions inevitably get hardened and scary.
To survive in a complicated century, we're all going to have to look for areas of mutual interest instead of emphasizing our divisions. That might be the most we can hope for. When people meet and talk and share, amazing things almost always happen.
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