Madonna – The Singing Senator from Michigan

~ Tit for Tat ~

While I believe Madonna is far more intelligent and disciplined, if I had to choose a Sarah Palin equivalent for Progressive Liberals, I would choose Madonna.

I suspect Madonna and Governor Palin would approve. Putting aside their polar ideologies and views, however, here’s my thinking – Both women really irritate and provoke their opposition. Yet they agitate their allies too…

In the case of Madonna most recently, some liberals wishing the diva had been more eloquent, not so crass in making a political point about President Obama.

If you don’t see Madonna as a politician, you haven’t been following the 30-year campaign of the singing Senator from Michigan, which is understandable given the demands.

Campaigning for Senator Madge can be taxing. She challenges her supporters most of all. For starters, you have to ignore the hecklers, reject the notion that Madonna is an opportunistic sellout seeking attention. Because as a supporter of Senator Madge, you believe Madonna is an outspoken girl from Detroit, determined to save the world one inclusive celebration at a time. Not without her share of controversies, but well intentioned all the same…

~ The Incident ~

On September 24, 2012, while performing live in Washington D.C., Madonna called President Barack Obama a “Black Muslim in the White House”.

When I awoke to the headlines the following morning, I was taken aback. I had just seen Madonna perform twice in Chicago the week prior. Nothing about her actions, the moral of her tour, would leave me to believe Madonna’s intentions were cruel, let alone ignorant where Barack Obama was concerned.

I ignored the sensation-bating article, hid the user comments, and watched the footage, bracing for the punchline…

~ The Reaction ~

If Madonna were diplomatic, she wouldn’t be Madonna, and I wouldn’t be the singing Senator’s imaginary spokesman…

Madonna’s comments were intended to be ironic. In effect, she was saying that in America anything is possible… Although Barack Obama is a Christian, we live in a country where even a black Muslim can live in the White House.

All the same, for what it’s worth, I have to admit…

I initially recoiled at Madonna’s statement. Truth is, I’m conditioned to flinch when someone says the President of the United States is un-American. Whether insisting Obama is Muslim or Kenyan, the underlying intent provokes me, leaves me feeling a little West Side Story and not so bueno.

Sandwiched between Madonna and Barack Obama, feeling a little awkward, waiting on someone to speak, I wondered – Is it okay to be ironic? If I object to race bating language, shouldn’t I bellyache over “racist bating” statements too? Does excusing Madonna make me a hypocrite?

No sooner, I remembered something ironic…

When I was in Chicago the week prior, Madonna endorsed President Obama, in a way that only Madonna can… She stripped down to her bra before a packed United Center, revealing “Obama” inked along her lower back, and proceeded to sing “Like a Virgin”.

But then I recalled the night prior to her endorsement. When en lieu of “Obama”, the words “For Give” were inked on Madonna’s back.

That night, Senator Madge rallied her supporters. She demanded everyone work harder at loving one another, asked us to not get so caught up in the tit for tat, the social disease…

Until asking myself whether I excused Madonna, I had all but forgotten about her proactive request to “For Give”.

And when I overlapped the two performances with the controversy, I started to realize something…

None of this is about Madonna, or at least it shouldn’t be…

Turns out, this lesson of forgiveness was custom built for me.

~ The Issue ~

I enjoy Madonna because she reminds me to be upbeat. I make an effort to be optimistic and not judge, although when it comes to ignorance and extremists, here and abroad, I’ve been less successful and more skeptical of people’s intentions.

When asked about the President’s religion in a recent Pew Research Center Poll, 17% of Americans responded that Barack Obama was Muslim.

Despite the President’s word and evidence to the contrary, nearly 1 in 5 Americans is spooked into believing, or seeks to believe, that President Obama is lying about being a Christian.

I find this statistic hard to forgive. It represents a mindset exacerbated by ugly politics, and quantifies an effort to delegitimize Barack Obama.

We can disagree with Madonna’s approach, but I applaud her for spotlighting an issue 4 out of 5 Americans should be talking about more regularly. I also appreciate her request to “for give”. Because whether a provocative liberal like Madonna or offensive conservative like Sarah Palin, I need to listen with a forgiving ear. I need to focus less on who, what, and how something is said, and seek to understand why…

The issue is the reaction, my sensitivity to offensive words… I can scream at my TV shaking a fist, accusing people of being racists. Or I can forgive, choose to see 17% of Americans as ill informed.

I can’t stop ignorance, but I can vote against fear mongers and hate at the ballot box. I can write this article and celebrate 4 out of 5 Americans, taking comfort in the realization – This tide is retreating, the United States is becoming a more perfect union, one forgiving gesture at a time.

God Bless America, our President, Senator Madge, and Sarah Palin too. We are all fulfilling a promise, becoming a nation shiny and new.

~ The End(orsement) ~

In the end, the singing Senator from Michigan doesn’t need assistance from an imaginary spokesman. Madonna summed up her controversial statement eloquently enough, and much more concisely, when she concluded…

“Yes, I know Obama is not a Muslim — though I know that plenty of people in this country think he is. And what if he were? The point I was making is that a good man is a good man, no matter who he prays to. I don’t care what religion Obama is — nor should anyone else in America.”

Below is Senator Madge’s full length endorsement of President Barack Obama at the United Center in Chicago.

I hereby challenge the most liberal Obama enthusiast among us, top this endorsement…

Progressive politics and the politics of Madonna are the subject of “Guy Penn & the Gospel According to Madge” written by Damon Wallace.

For blog updates, follow along through Facebook or Twitter.

9 Comments

by Damon Wallace on October 1, 2012 • Permalink

Posted in Madonna, Politics, Uncategorized

Tagged barack obama, madonna, obama

Posted by Damon Wallace on October 1, 2012

https://guypenn.com/2012/10/01/madonna-the-singing-senator-from-michigan/

Project Overview

“According to this account the promise of the devil was fulfilled to the very letter, Adam and Eve did not die, and they did become as gods, knowing good and evil…”

~ Robert Green Ingersoll, 1897

“Chronicling the Moon” ~ The Blog Opera

Acts

About

“Chronicling the Moon” is a bedtime story, a fairy tale with illustrations and music.

The chronicle is written from the perspective of Aden Moss, an acclaimed psychotherapist whose services are preoccupied with a ‘coven of one‘ – a catatonic Jane Doe known as Patient 28, who awakens with the winter solstice.

Using hypnosis, Aden travels into Patient 28’s subconscious and discovers twelve noteworthy past lives waiting. He arrives in a place called Eden, where he learns a woman named Eve was murdered in her garden, and a despondent God, mourning the loss, left Earth to Adam.

Complimenting the fairy tale is “Soldier of Eve”, a non-fictional blog delving into politics, sexuality, religion, and art.

Like my fictional character, Aden, I am an Eve supporter. Given man’s track record over the millennia, I’m of the persuasion we should give the women a chance, start adopting more nurturing ideals and policies.

There are no more kingdoms to conquer, only boogeyman to incite us. Sacrifices have been bravely made, wars fought and won. Embrace your spouse. Become friends with a neighbor very different from you. Tend to this garden, before it’s gone.

Guy Penn

agoraphobic nomaD

My first name spelled backwards is nomad. Because of this, my Sicilian grandmother initially called me by my middle name, Christopher. She worried my first name would somehow lead me to a homeless lifestyle, one where I’d wander aimlessly without a place to call my own. She only reluctantly stopped calling me Christopher when my mom, fearing I’d get confused, snapped and demanded I be called by my first name.

In hindsight, it looks like my grandmother was onto something…

In my 41 years, I’ve moved 29 times. Noteworthy cities I’ve called home include: Chicago, New York City, Honolulu, San Francisco, and San Diego. And within each location, I’ve moved multiple times. I’m not in the military, never been evicted, nor am I evading the law. It’s only lately that I’ve come to accept, corny as it may sound, I’ve been running from me.

Despite my many moves, I’ve always been a homebound guy and a bona fide dreamer. I am an only child and was a latchkey kid growing up in the eighties. As a teenager, I was more than content, and came to prefer, spending time alone with an Anne Rice novel, dancing to Madonna, or witting ghost stories. I enjoyed traveling inward over the outdoors. There, I could be anything or anyone, unearth treasures not found on a football field or at a school bonfire. It provided me shelter from bullies, helped me envision a less awkward – more extroverted, jet setting, and socially wonderful – me.

Of course, back in the eighties I naively thought I’d become that outgoing charmer with the devil-may-care attitude. But instead my lonesome inclinations only manifested. Although I like to think I’m less awkward (he types whilst wearing Marvin Martian pajamas), I have remained a daydreaming introvert. I never really emerged from my cocoon. I only fell deeper into the silk enshrouding me.

At times, I worry that I am borderline agoraphobic, like my grandmother who seldom left her house later in life. I don’t like crowds, despise traffic, and avoid social situations when I can. Unlike some agoraphobics, however, I love open spaces. Sign me up for a sprawling meadow or an empty road with a spacious horizon any day. It’s people that leave me anxious, feeling distracted and guarded.

Recommendation: On the subject of living with agoraphobia, I highly recommend ArLynn Presser’s blog. After experiencing years of panic attacks whenever she left her home, ArLynn set out to visit all 325 of her facebook friends in 13 different countries. Her blog is a great read, a herculean feat, and helped open my eyes to some of my behaviors. I applaud ArLynn’s bravery.

I like to consider myself an optimistic person. But somewhere along the way in my lifetime, my perception of the human race began to change. The transition was so gradual I’m not sure when it began or where it will end. But people became louder, they felt more intrusive, petty, and judgmental… not fun to be around.

I don’t enjoy feeling defensive. It contradicts my rose-tinted hopes for humanity, but it’s the reality I fight whenever I step out my door. As a result, I feel out of place in a crowd and become uptight, like a prude at Marti Gras without a bead to my name; everyone is topless and drunk, and I’m pissed about the puke on my shoes.

Perhaps I conditioned myself to be this way. I’m not so different from when I was a teenager. I still partake in escapism, fleeing off to more accepting, ingratiating, and agreeable dreamscapes; it may be imaginary, but it’s more inviting at times than reality, where the collective chatter seems increasingly loud and hostile.

Given my social discomfort and homebound ways, why have I lived in some of the most populated (and subsequently expensive) cities in the United States? Short answer: for love and money. My hometowns provided me the highest wages and security; they allowed me the freedom to live openly as a gay man. For as exhausting as I find breaking the ice, pretending to be someone I’m not is unbearable. Wearing masks for the blind is insulting and degrading. I’d sooner brave a mob and feel awkward than live a lie.

In retrospect, I’ve moved as much as I have because I’m running from the reserved, introverted, homebound part of me that’s like my grandmother, who suffered increasingly from mental illness with age. I’m still chasing the fantasy of the man I’ll become. In the process, I’ve developed “grass is greener” syndrome, where I imagine a better, more liberating life awaiting me on the horizon, a place where reality and dreams coexist regardless of who you are.

Perhaps my lonesome disposition is in the stars. My grandmother and I also share the same birthday. We are both Tauri, an astrological sign known to be grounded… But I don’t hold much trust in astrology. We share a birthday with Jay Leno, Ann Margaret, and Saddam Hussein, and they all seem (or appeared to be) outgoing.

Whichever the case, I call the introverted side of me – the guy writing this blog, wondering who I am – Christopher. He is a homebody, a borderline agoraphobic… a man cocooned within a nomad.

Maybe mom was right to worry I’d get confused about my names. Or maybe, like my grandmother, I just worry too much.

I need to be more like Madonna. I need to dance more, care less about what others may think. Both would do wonders for my heart.

Guy Penn (a/k/a Damon Christopher)