Heroes
ed. note: One year later, Frank Rich nominates a credible American hero in The New York Times: Spider-Man 2.
Next year, on September 11th, the Republican National Convention will already be well on its way have just ended in New York City.
It is painfully obvious that this choice of locale will allow the RNC to exploit the backdrop of a terrorist act — an attack that took the lives of several thousand New Yorkers, many of them immigrants, some of them residents rather than citizens — to advance the unholy alliance of fundamentalist and mainstream interests that have coalesced in that party over the last few years.
At that convention, as happened during the invasion and occupation of Iraq, the current administration and its backers will be engaged in the wholesale manufacture and selling of heroes — branded, of course, as exemplars of Republican values, if not, literally, as Republican candidates.
As for the worth of these values, it is logical that they fluctuate. But, then, if we take it for granted that the meaning of Republican or Democrat will drift here and there, on semantic and propagandistic waves, the ebb and flow of compromise and opportunism that defines any political system, what of the value and the meaning of a “hero?”
Over the last two years, the word “hero,” its meaning in both a contemporary and historical context, has become a hotly contested term. Just as the meanings of “person of interest,” “detainee,” “homeland,” “terrorist” and “patriot” — to name only a few — have been frozen, thawed, cooked and frozen again, to serve the changing needs of political leaders who rule by dictate rather than through debate, so, too, has the meaning of “hero” been transformed.
In particular, I am thinking of how firefighters, for example, were rightly celebrated as heroes in the wake of their sacrifices during the September 11th attacks. Yet, today, because of budget cuts in New York State, cuts that are largely due to the current administration’s callous disregard for most domestic concerns, there are firehouses closing throughout New York and, indeed, the rest of the nation.
I am also thinking about the ongoing conversation concerning the so-called “Saving of Private Lynch” and about the recently celebrated “country” music song “Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue (The Angry American).”
All of which makes me wonder: what kind of a real, American hero does our polity need right now?
During the Reagan era, when the president called the United States a “Shining City on a Hill” and our enemies were, simply put, “the Evil Empire,” heroes came in two flavors, ironic and iconic: “The Greatest American Hero” and “Rambo: First Blood, pt II,” for example.
If you belive that human life is sacred, that blood should only be shed as a last resort, in an act of self-defense rather than, say, a “pre-emptive attack” designed to function, possibly, as a future defensive action, then an ironic hero, or, at least, one with moral complexity fits your bill.
Examples of complex heroes abound in American history. George Washington, Captain Ahab, Abraham Lincoln, Tom Sawyer, Benjamin Franklin — these were all multi-dimenstional figures, whether represented in historical or fictional accounts. In fact, even Christianity, the most popular religious tradition in the United States, espouses a complex God in the form of a mysterious trinity — one in three, three in one — and a God made mortal, a God, who, in a moment of doubt (!) asks “Why hast thou forsaken me?“
Even our most famous warriors, it should be noted, such as the figure of Ulysses, have been afforded — and retained — a conscience through the continuous retelling of their stories, over the last two thousand years.
It is no surprise, then, that the bloodlust of “Rambo” was justified by the trials and tribulations of its protagonist, John Rambo, as explained by the first film of that series: “First Blood.” The very title of the movies tells its tale: a hero who must defend himself after his enemies draw “first blood.” For those of you who have not seen this movie, I strongly recommend it for its vivid depiction of a disillusioned Vietnam veteran and his allegorical descent into a distinctly American Hell.
So, then, back to my question: what of today’s heroes?
I do not have an answer. But, I do have the makings of one.
Last Friday night, while driving home, I heard a commercial for Bud Light beer that, most likely, changed my life, forever.
Produced by the Chicago office of DDB, a global advertising agency, this radio spot extolled the virtues of a roller-skating man in tight shorts. The commercial dubbed him a “Real American Genius.” It was a brilliantly executed if narrowly designed joke. Still intrigued and impressed, I hit Google for its context.
What I found, eventually, was this:
http://www.smittystavern.com/bud/
Archived on this page are over three dozen radio spots, all produced by DDB for Anheuser-Busch & Co. Nearly all of them are awesome works of comedy and, perhaps, cathartic political commentary.
This is Bruce Springsteen meets Jack Handey.
For starters, I would recommend:
- Mr. Bowling Shoe Giver Outer (”Red, white and blue”)
- Mr. Driving Range Ball Picker Upper (”Gunning for you”)
- Mr. Bass Plaque Maker (”What have you done?”)
- Mr. Chinese Food Delivery Guy (”That’s 10%”)
- Mr. Losing Locker Room Reporter (”Some millionaire dropped the ball”)
- Mr. Giant Taco Salad Inventor (”Deep fried crunchy bowl”)
I present them to you both for your delight and, perhaps, as testament to the subtlety and resilience of American humor and culture, despite the best (or worst) efforts of the current administration and its political backers.
postscript
Who is my hero?
At the moment, it’s Paul Krugman. Here’s his New York Times column for this week.
Taking a longer view, I would nominate my uncle, Julio Márquez, who, for decades, worked in an Anheuser-Busch factory in Tampa, Florida. On his blue-collar salary, he managed to save enough money to bring all five of his siblings over to the United States from Cuba.
Were it not for the double-edged sword that is alcohol and family, as well as the less than savory way his former employer disposed of him after years of consistent service, I would gladly say “This Bud’s for you.”
Oh, and, when I was five years old and still lived in Cuba, this very same uncle Julio visited us, bringing me a special present. His gift? A brown leather belt decorated with scenes from the pages of Superman.