Here's a more personal blog for those interested: How I grew up partially 'redneck' and became a liberal quaker and radical

HOW REDNECK have I been in my life, besides the fact that red is my very favorite color?

And that I grew up on the edge of a small village of 250 people in southeast Nebraska, have done farm work, etc. ?:-)

Plus, when growing up, to get into the country, all I had to do was walk through our corn and potatoes, etc., hop the fence, to a farmer's fields, and walk down into the woods and creek.
HERE’S MY SCORE, me an old Cornhusker who has never lived in a large urban city.
And a few ways that I am definitely not a cliched redneck!

What about you?
Take the test too.🙂

(I’ve adapted another anonymous test that had a few errors and was missing some major redneck ways.)

10-20 maybe redneck
20-30 basic redneck
30-40 real redneck

1. Worked outdoors and gotten a red neck sunburn? Yes
2. Owned a BB gun, rifle, and shot gun and carried a pocket knife? Yes
3. Gone rabbit and pheasant hunting? Yes
4. Fished for catfish, bullheads, and trout? Yes
5. Owned a truck, driven tractors, disced fields? Yes
6. Repaired fence and strung barbwire? Yes
7. Plucked a chicken and fed cows? Yes
8. Gathered wild ginseng? No

9. Eaten deer meat and crawdads? Yes
10. Eaten fried liver, tongue, and oxtail, grits, cornbread, and hushpuppies? Yes
11. Milked a cow, fed a baby animal with a bottle? Yes
12. Gathered fresh eggs? Yes

13. Driven stick shifts and driven an old car around in a farm field when only about 12? Yes
14. Started a vehicle using a manual choke? Yes
15. Worn Stetson cowboy hats, snap shirts, large belt buckles, and western boots? Yes
16. Husked corn? Yes!

17. Waded barefoot in a creek? Yes
18. Caught fireflies in a jar and put around finger? Yes
19. Drank sweet tea and homemade beer? Yes
20. Gathered wild blackberries? Yes

21. Used outhouses? Yes
22. Ridden horses, worked on a farm and a ranch? Yes
23. Smelled the scent of cured tobacco and chewed tobacco? No
24. Carried in wood, taken the ashes out of a wood stove or wood heater? Yes

Here's a photo from me working on a huge ranch in central Montana near White Sulphur Springs, , me and my horse bringing down stray cattle from out of a box canyon in the Crazy Mountains. The reason that the photo is such poor quality is that I am shooting the picture from on the saddle of my horse with a cheap instamatic camera:-)

25. Listened to country music most of the time? Yes
26. Walked barefoot down a gravel or dirt road? Yes
27. Slept in a tent? Yes
28. Been attacked by a rooster? No

29. Eaten raw apple, potato, or turnip off the blade of a pocket knife? Yes
30. Wrapped a Bull Durham cigarette? Yes
31. Eaten homemade snow ice cream? Yes
32. Used a pump to draw water from a well? Yes

33. Been on a hay ride, baled hay? Yes
34. Jumped on a pile of raked leaves? Yes
35. Carved your initials into a tree and elsewhere? Yes
36. Sucked on a piece of water hose to siphon gas out of a gas tank? Yes

37. Gotten a tattoo? Yes
38. Split wood with an axe? Yes
39. Hung laundry outside on a clothes line to dry? Yes
40. Parked and necked? Yes

My Redneck Total: 37 out of 40

HOWEVER, how am I NOT a cliched redneck?

I’m totally opposed to nationalism, (for definition see below)

am strongly for equality for all humans,
think race and nation are unimportant,
am a human rights worker and demonstrator against wars,
am against border walls,
never voted very right-wing,
am not a fundamentalist in religion,

don’t own a Confederate flag at home or on my vehicle,
and don’t put out a Stars and Stripes on the 4th,

don’t use rough language,
curse words, or nonstandard English,

don’t go, regularly, to car races (though I have years ago)
don’t park my truck or car in my yard,
(though I have done that years ago:-),

and lastly but not least, I never tasted beer until after

I was almost 20, when I was living in Haight Ashbury as a spiritual hippie. When a roommate heard I had never tasted beer, he got me one from the fridge and watched when I opened it.
I took a sip, and spit it out! I had expected it to taste like root beer!

And I didn't start drinking beer until I moved to to a kibbutz in Palestine-Israel, and drank Israeli black beer (had only about 0.5 per cent alcohol. I drank it at the end of the day, after driving a caterpillar discing fields on the hills near where King Saul was killed by the Philistines.

And all the years as a teacher, I never drank beer partially to be a model to my students who often did drink and do illegal drugs. Besides, I didn't like the taste!
Obviously not following Dierks Bentley (the "Beers on Us" tour), Thomas Rhett, and a host of other country singers and "Rednecks" in general.


**Nationalism: A nationalist is one whose whole focus in on himself, his kin, and nation, who thinks US ought to come FIRST!:-( indeed, people who don't care about others around the globe, refugees, etc. Before the U.S. did this, nationalism was the FIRST strong policy of the British Empire, like when it went to war in the infamous 19th century against China to force it to buy opium so that British merchants could get wealthy, the evil Opium Wars:-( THAT is entirely different from having a love of country, patriotism, which I do support, even got my God and Country Award as a Star Scout:-)

The End
Thanks to the anonymous writer who started this list on FB.


In the Light,

Dan Wilcox

Meticulous Honesty: Why Dishonesty Is ALWAYS wrong

Preface:
Very popular, again, is the view that there are no inherent moral truths. Various thinkers state that moral realism isn’t true, that sometimes lying is good, etc. Often this outlook on ethics emphasizes that the end justifies the means and that “love” is the only rule.

Unfortunately, words such as “love” are empty-bucket terms meaning contradictory acts and are almost meaningless. For instance, the famous Roman Catholic leader, Augustine, in the 4th century wrote, “Love and do what you will. (on the First Epistle of John, Homily 7 on 1 John 4:4-12)

But Augustine was the same Christian leader who brought hard determinism into the Christian religion, condemning all human infants as being guilty of Original Sin, claiming that only a limited number of humans were predestined to be rescued, billions of others left to damnation.

Augustine also used the power of the Roman state to persecute others. And he abandoned his common law wife/concubine of 10 years, and planned, instead, to move to Rome and marry a high-class lady. At least he didn’t abandon his son from his common-law wife.
Etc.

Other Christian leaders have gone even further. Christian theologian, Episcopal priest Joseph Fletcher, in the late 1960’s wrote the book called Situation Ethics which claimed that loving could mean to lie, to commit adultery, to blackmail, even to kill hundreds of thousands of civilians!

According to Fletcher, “nothing is inherently right or wrong” (page 134). Allegedly, later, Fletcher promoted abortion, infanticide, euthanasia, etc. in the name of “love.” (according to Wikipedia)

Paul Tillich, the famous Lutheran philosopher and theologian, wrote that “love is the ultimate law” (Systematic Theology, Volume 1, page 152) then repeatedly committed adultery, etc. The long scholarly biography of Tillich shows how dishearteningly wrong Tillich behaved, like so many others, by holding to the semantically vague idea of "love" as the only guide.
ETC.

Even many Christians who claim to believe in objective ethics (not situation ethics) argue for very strange moral views such as the American Christian leader who declared that the atom bomb is “God’s gift to America”!

Or the millions of Christians (over 78% of American Evangelical Christians) who defend President Trump’s forcefully taking little children under 4 from their refugee mothers and sending the crying toddlers off thousands of miles away from their mothers to U.S. government facilities!

And ALL of those ethically wrong actions happened because the American Christians lied about the nature of the refugees, claiming they were criminals, drug dealers, enslavers, etc.

Even if--let's hypothesize--no bad results came from lying (or what ever other violation of moral truths), that lying would still be contrary to what is good and right.

Tragically, humans who think that morality, justice, human rights, etc. are inherently real and true, not subject to situations seem, often, to be in the minority.

MAIN POINT:
DISHONESTY/LYING is ALWAYS wrong.
Theft, adultery, infanticide, killing, and so forth are ALWAYS WRONG…
AND
Meticulous honesty, sharing, generosity, infant care, compassion, justice and so forth are ALWAYS RIGHT.

WHY:
1. Without meticulous honesty, fields and professions such as science, technology, architecture and construction, medicine, criminal justice, education, and so forth can’t function well or successfully.
Human history and current events are strewn with the millions of cases of scientists, law enforcement officers, politicians, architects, doctors, teachers, etc. who in the name of what ever ethics they followed, lied, deceived, or shaved the truth.
When a doctor lies, it might mean only deeply harming a patient. But when a scientist lies, it could wreak havoc on an entire society causing the suffering and death of millions of humans.

2. Unfortunately, the vast majority of humans have a penchant toward viewing the world from their own advantage point. We tend to justify what looks good for our group or our nation. Consider cases such as how the leading intellectuals and brilliant scholars of the various opposing nations of 1914 led us into the completely wrong Great War, which caused the slaughter of at least 15 million humans.

See Manifesto of the Ninety-Three German Intellectuals
https://wwi.lib.byu.edu/index.php/Manifesto_of_the_Ninety-Three_German_Intellectuals


See Preachers Present Arms by Ray h. Abrams

As various writers have emphasized the first fatality of war is truth. Lies are the immoral “body-guards” (to twist a phrase of Winston Churchill who infamously claimed that lies are bodyguards who protect truth!)

Another lesser case is the official lies—especially the Gulf of Tonkin lies-- told by the American government which led to over 2 million humans slaughtered in Vietnam including over 50,000 Americans.

Of course, most of these humans lied, deceived, were dishonest from the best of motives (though their motives you notice were based in the group egotism of their particular nation and society).

3. ALL lying, all deception, all dishonesty is to state contrary to reality. For instance, the construction boss needs to get the building finished by October 1st for many good reasons. Yet the inspector has been slow in coming out to certify, so the contractor hedges the truth. After all, in other situations, the minor deception hasn’t resulted in anything bad.

But regardless of whether or not his dishonesty catches up with the construction contractor (even though he meant it for good), the lie is contrary to what is true and real.

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE EXTREME CASES?

Extreme cases are, admittedly, difficult. And so various thinkers have stated that honesty must be relative to end results.
People say, wouldn’t it be good to lie to a Nazi, to lie to a murderer?

However, as I’ve already pointed out, these extreme situations don’t normally happen. Yet they are often pulled up to justify more common situations in which many people think a lie is also “good” in their particular difficulties.

Second, lying is always wrong even in desperate situations.
But what if an abused child hides at your house?
Will you lie to protect the innocent child from the abusive father?

What if you can discover no other option?

In that case since no alternative seems available, you can't find a good way to deal with the crisis, then you may choose to do what is wrong, the least wrong action.

Notice, the lying, is still WRONG, BUT COMPARED TO A CHILD BEING FURTHER ABUSED, LYING IS THE LESSER EVIL.

And after the crisis passes, you well-meaning liar, will still need to admit your wrong-doing, and emphasize that you will make whatever amends you need to for your deception.

No where is any well-meant lie—itself--justified.

If only all humans would choose such moral realism, the vast majority of evil actions in the world would be lessened and eventually stopped.

Meticulous honesty, compassion, generosity, defense of human rights, etc. are ALWAYS RIGHT.

In the LIGHT of TRUTH,

Daniel Wilcox

If NOT putting itself First, What Is One of the Central Purposes of a Nation?

One of the central purposes of a nation is
BE A BLESSING TO OTHERS, ESPECIALLY THOSE IMPOVERISHED,
PERSECUTED,
OPPRESSED,
MISTREATED...

A nation exists NOT to put itself FIRST contrary to what President Trump claims.

A nation can protect its citizens without building huge walls,
without demonizing refugees,
without
being
self-centered.



In the Light of compassion, generosity, hope, and help,

Daniel Wilcox

Palestinian Stranger: Of a Different Mind and Place

The Middle Eastern stone and masonry buildings hunched like a dense crowd at the gate, darkened in the dusk’s sun, and I stood there, my red American backpack leaning against my knee. Down the twilighted street it looked dark and foreboding.

Where might I find a hotel? It was 6:30 pm and I had just missed the last bus leaving Nablus, Palestine at 6 pm.

I was going to be stuck here all night. True, Palestinians had been courteous and friendly all day.

The people in Nablus hadn't been at all like most Palestinian Muslims who support killing civilians, not at all like Palestinians who had recently knifed to death Jewish civilians including a 13-year-old girl in her own bedroom. Or the ones who intentionally rammed into Israeli cars, trying to kill Jews. In one car attack, a 1-year-old Jewish infant had been killed.

Immediately, the Palestinian government in the West Bank had praised that Muslim attacker as a"martyr." Really sick and twisted.

My bumpy ride up from Jerusalem in the blue and white bus had been fascinating and safe. A short, black-haired Palestinian teen in the seat next to me had introduced himself and plied me with many questions about America, grinning with enthusiasm and intensity.

And for the past 6 hours, I had wandered the ancient streets of Nablus (called in the Bible, Shechum), marveling at the dead stones of that ancient past contrasting now to the lively hubbub of present day life.

Shop sellers had given me the hard sale, though had been very polite. No hostility. Probably spotted me immediately as North American. Some of the Arab men dressed American, but very conservatively, not with my colorful garb.

I saw few teen girls in the streets, only about or 6, and they walked quietly beside their men escorts, ensconced in cocoons of dark cloth with only their faces visible shaped like pert olives.

So, excited by another new adventure, though tinged by anxiety, I walked down a central street past more shops, looking for what might be an inn. Some older men in traditional dress were pulling sheep heads, slabs of meat, and sheened metal cookware from their display tables, and then pulling down the dull, metal rolling doors, locking out the night. Noisily and uncertainly came the darkness.

Would I even have enough Israeli currency for a room? Or would they take American money? What would their attitude at the inn be, if I found one?

Would they demand to see my passport? Up until now my looking more Jewish than all Jewish members on our kibbutz where I worked in eastern Galilee, had been humorous—my dark curly hair and prominent nose; also often bent close to the text of my Jewish Bible, which none of them, the actual Jews bothered to read. They wondered about this goyim who knew all about Nahum and Jeremiah.

But now I was hungry in a strange place, a mind’s distance from Americanized Israeli cities, so I walked over to something familiar, a small falafel cubicle still open.



It was a bright spot along a large dark 3-story building. The cook, a tall Palestinian youth, probably about 19, was busy cleaning a grimy grill, scraping off pea crud and the last shreds of dark meat.

But he paused smiled and said, “Salaam."

I pointed and asked, “How much?”

Behind him 2 boys about 7 and 5 were cleaning bowls and shoving vegetable shavings into a dented trash can.

Then in perfect English, the cook said he was near closing but still had enough for a couple falafels. I ordered two and stood there eating them, crunching delicious hot peas, meat, and steaming vegetables. Between a 3rd and 4th bite, I asked, "Are there any hotels near here?"

“You American?” he asked as he continued to clean and he rushed some Arabic at the boys behind him.

”Yes, I missed the bus. I came over to the Middle East after finishing college in California--am an anthropologist--actually hitched across Europe, then down down the Croatian coast, when I should have been at my commencement. Your English is very clear. You a student?"

"Yeah, I'm Ismael, recently graduated from Ramalah Friends High School, and now attend an-Naja National University here in the city. And your name?”

We flowed like the Jordan River into a young adult conversation, the kind that take place anywhere--
comparing notes on studies, girls, religion, and, finally, politics, of course. Is there any other topic in the Middle East?

He rinsed the grill and said, “I can direct you to a hotel, but if you wait a short bit longer for me to lockup, you are invited to our home; I'm sure my mother and father would be happy to provide you with hospitality for the evening. Then we could continue our discussion. I would like to ask more questions."

That night with the Abrahamic stars outside, countless in the black sky, I sat in the cook's family's 2nd story living room of a 3-story concrete home.

Ismael explained, "Our third story is still blocked off, under construction." On the wall behind us hung a tapestry with a deer and a mountain. In front of it sat Ismael’s father stocky with short hair and a pudgy face ensconced like a sheikh on a stuffed chair, his 5 children sitting on the floor by him, all watching TV.

His father didn't speak much English, and me, of course, no Arabic. So Ismael translated a few words he said to me in greeting.

A few times, Ismael walked into another room to answer his cell. The old and the new.

I sat on a low chair and watched fascinated as the white hijabbed mother first served me--as honored guest, a dish of Arab meat with red and green vegetables, then served her husband, then Ismael, then children, and lastly back in the kitchen, I guess, Ismael's younger sister and herself.

To my surprise, after conversation, they didn’t have me sleep in a side room or on cushions in the living room. As the guest of honor, the parents gave me their own large bedroom with its king-sized American-style bed covered in large elaborate quilts.

I felt sheepish being so honored, but remembered that they were no doubt practicing the Islamic rule of hospitality to strangers. Or, maybe, my skeptical side kicking in, trying to impress this American, hoping for some favor from me in the future.

The next day we dined formally on the floor in their dining room. I sat cross-legged in front of a spacious banquet of many dishes, again served first. The gracious mother ate last. Maybe, not so different from my own Thanksgivings as a kid growing up in the Bible Belt of Nebraska where the women labored most of the day in the kitchen, while the men sat in the living room watching the North/South Football Game.

The next morning Ismael didn’t have to work and took me down to the young men’s club. The open air game room was on the top floor of a 5-story building in downtown Nablus. At a pool table, 7 young adults avidly played billiards. We soon joined after introductions, but I didn’t get many balls shot before the conversation turned to politics.

Especially, a very serious guy in a rap shirt kept button-holing me, saying in flawless English, “Why does America keep helping the Jews? That’s what I want to know. Your President Trump, what an idiot! Obama was no better!"

He paused to cue a ball, then continued, "We are oppressed every day, by the Zionist dogs always telling us what to do and where to do it. And they won’t give us our land back. Look at how they are stealing our land, and settlers are cutting down our olive trees.

But we will get it back by blood and bravery. Thank Allah, praise be his name, that we have Fatah to stand up for us!”

I listened, somewhat taken back by the harsh barrage. Other Palestinians jabbed in their own knife points, bitter comments. Since I had come on this great pilgrimage leaving the U.S. behind because of my own disillusionment with Obamaism, I found it hard to know what to say. But I couldn’t stomach the Palestinians' attacks on Jewish civilians, and reminded them that Jewish people have suffered, too.

So, while we poked spheres of color into pockets--and debaters would step aside every few minutes to take cell messages, I side-stepped the anti-American barrage with mild-mannered equivocations.

They didn’t seem to really be asking for answers but only using me as a sort of political, Islamic piñata.

Gradually the conversation cooled, but then the guy wearing the old rap t-shirt asked “Why did have you come to Palestine? If you call it 'West Bank,' I'll punch you.”

Suddenly, the conversation was no longer impersonal insults; it got direct and personal.

Ismael started to come to my defense, even had the pool game stopped.

But I motioned, "No, let me respond. I'm a theist, a spiritual seeker, a Friend, and wanted to see the land where all 3 large monotheistic religions began. This brought forth mild surprise from a number of faces.

One perceptive youth who hadn't spoken yet, said, "It's more than 3; don't forget Baha'i."

"Very good point! I responded." And then continued telling them about my travels and background.

Only having been in the Middle East for a few months, I still didn’t grasp the real nature of religious people in Israel or the West Bank. How many Jews, how many Muslims, how many Christians really believed in their religious identities? Or were those only their cultural and political, often rancorous, worldview, not a thought-out lifestance.

These pool players, friends of Ismael, of course, were more religious, than the Jews on my kibbutz who were all hard atheists. One 45-year-old kibbutzim farmer worked on Jewish holy days, disking fields all day, working hard as ever on Yom Kippur, that most holy day of the Jewish calendar when no cars were seen on major highways, and even the most hardened secularist would at least reflect on his errors from the past year and make new resolutions.

But what of these modern Muslim youth with their cell phones? Only two months before, 5 Muslim fighters had come across the Jordan River and attacked 15 Jewish civilians in apartment buildings in Bet Shean just a mile and a half from the kibbutz farm where I lived and worked. Israelis reserve soldiers bullet-riddled the terrorists and fire-torched their bodies.

Would the young adult in the shades and rap shirt, who had verbally attacked me, soon pull a knife at a bus stop and stab an old Jewish lady or a Jewish child for Allah and Palestine? Or would he join a Muslim jihad organization such as HAMAS?

What did that even mean to them? Did they really believe in Allah?

While I ruminated on such questions in a side-part of my mind, I finished up with my explanation to them, "Last week while eating at a Palestinian restaurant in Jerusalem, there had been an Islamic plaque on the wall that said, "Islam is a religion of love." Would you agree with that?"

But what about the verses in the Quran which advocate the killing of Infidels—which means Jews, heretical Muslims, and us Americans. Or the drastic Quranic statement that at the end of the world Jews will try and hide behind rocks, but the stones will cry out and tell Muslims where Jews are hiding so they can be killed?"

Ismael glanced around toward the downstairs and at other buildings near the open terrace where we stood, and whispered to me, "It's best not to discuss Islam in a public place."

"Oh, okay. Sorry."

"So, what about girls?" I chuckled. "Is that an okay topic? Are you allowed to date as Muslims?"

"No," said Ismael and several others chimed in--no they "couldn’t date; dating isn't part of Islamic culture."

A stocky guy sitting near the edge of the roof on a hardwood chair and nursing his cell phone spoke up, "Look at Pakistan's Islamic government in the news today. They've banned Valentine's Day. Our government ought to do that, too."

"Not quite," said Ismael to the anti-Valentines youth. "Check the news, again. What happened is that the Islamabab High Court prohibited all Valentine’s Day festivities in government offices and public spaces and directs the media not to promote or cover Valentine’s Day."

Then Ismael turned back to me. “First, I must finish university and then build up a business--like my father did--so that I have a secure foundation; and then my family will arrange a wedding for me with a respectable girl."

“Really?” His conservative explanation jarred paradoxically with the lurid news I had read in the English-language Jerusalem Post the previous week. "What about several East Jerusalem youths who followed an American woman a couple weeks ago and attempted to fondle her as she walked down a windowless street? Many Muslim men seem to have a vulgar attitude toward women."

"Wade, keep in mind, young men here think all American women are like actors in Hollywood movies, loose and adulterous."

Finally, Ismael said it was time to go.

I thanked everyone for their hospitality, and added, "I'll work on improving my billiards' game." They laughed at that.

But at the door out, the stocky guy in the rap t-shirt walked up close to me and whispered.

"What?" I asked. I thought he was making another sarcastic comment, a parting shot at me and the U.S.--that I was getting verbally stoned, again.

But instead he repeated in a low voice, “Do you think you can get me an American visa?”


-Daniel Wilcox


In the Light, hoping for reconciliation for the Jewish and Palestinian peoples,

Daniel Wilcox