I was put into Little Flower Catholic grade school in Billings, Montana, at age six. I also attended Billings Central Catholic High School. My teachers in grade school were Dominican nuns. That order would not normally have come to Billings, but my maternal great aunt, “Sister Faith,” was the Mother Superior of that order, and so had the power to send her foot soldiers our way as a special favor to our family. This is what my mother told me, anyway.
Catholics at that time were protective of their youth. Deep religious indoctrination was a common practice, and thought to be a good thing. It protected us from worldly influences. Our school had its own special bus, even though public school buses were available. They scheduled the school day so that we did not get out at the same time as Garfield, the public school one block away. They did not want us mixing with the public school kids on a daily basis.
It all seems innocent, and the nuns I had for teachers were wonderful people. They had the best of intentions. We were taught that the Catholic faith was the “one true faith,” and that once we became aware of that fact our choices were to stay in the faith or leave the faith and face eternal damnation. There was a real place called “Hell” that had real fire that really burned, forever.
It scared the shit out of us.
Most kids I went to school with are still Catholics. Even as mature adults that fear-based indoctrination resides in our subconscious. Leaving the Catholic faith, which I did at age 38, was stressful.
I was afraid that I was going to be punished and that my life might be destroyed. I took a leap of faith, so to speak, to the other side.
As it turns out, the “other” side is a nice place. But I could not know that. Youthful indoctrination kept me in the faith for twenty years after the end of my Catholic education.
That’s a common experience, but perhaps my family was more religious than most, so I got a heavier dose. That lock they had on me – a child’s fear of burning – is extremely powerful. Richard Dawkins has gone so far as to call it child abuse, and I tend to agree, but only to to a degree. Most people who lead the mainstream religious faiths are not bad people. They love their flocks, and recognize the flaw in human nature: The need to follow and obey authority. To the extent that they lead people to better and happier lives, they can be forgiven. To the extent that they use this power to take our money, bugger our children or taint our world outlook to their political liking, they should burn in hell.
All of this leads me to what made me sit down here – thought prisons. Over the past few blogging years I have had numerous encounters with both Democrats and Republicans, and have found the former resolute and certain of their beleifs. Most Republicans are not conflicted by party adherence. Being a Republican appears easy, and these folks generally have no trouble punishing leaders who do not adhere to the faith. Also, they don’t much question the faith. That’s really comfortable.
Democrats are different. They are faced daily with contradiction, as their leaders behave like Republicans even as they talk like Democrats. This creates internal discomfort, or cognitive dissonance. So the party is constantly torn apart by internal dissension. Will Rogers’ lament that he did not belong to an organized party, but was rather a Democrat, hints that this is not a new phenomenon.
If not a Democrat, what am I? I have but two choices. If I leave the party, there is … nothingness, a void, a form of hell without flames. So party faithful are caught in a mind prison not much different than the conflict of the captured Catholic child. Staying is comfortable, but thinking is not allowed. Leaving is scary, and thinking is hard, even painful.
So, to my Democratic friends and enemies alike who continually ask me “If not this, then what?”, I answer “Uncertainty. Can you deal with it?” It’s not easy not belonging, to have to think and judge independently. Abstaining from casting a vote for either party seems nihilistic, but if neither offers anything productive, is that not nihilism as well?
The two-party system is a natural byproduct of money-control of politics, as no third party can amass the resources to gain critical mass and challenge it. But we don’t have to belong. It might appear that outside the two-party system there is nothing. But it is inside the two-party system where nothingness resides. Outside that system is eternal optimism of the spirit coupled with pessimism of the intellect. There is life out here, just as there is life for young Catholics if only they are willing to take a leap of faith, and leave the faith.











