GOING TO CHURCH

            Went to church yesterday for the first time in 9 weeks.  Masks on one side; non-masks on the other.  Every other row of chairs empty.  Families sitting together, which of course kept the teens from sitting in a mob.  Both masks and unmasked were admonished to love and respect each other.  Amen.

             We've been "attending" on-line and have become quite disenchanted with the whole thing.  If ZOOM becomes the only way to have a conference or a meeting, I'm not sure what ancillary dehumanizing consequences may result.  It was fantastic to be there in person with other humans "singing to yourselves psalms and hymns and spiritual songs."

             You just can't get the same energy from the screen that you do when sitting together in fellowship, whether it's church, conference, board meeting or whatever.  Did it ever occur to you that animals can't smile?  Oh, they can wag their tails and express some emotions, but a cat never smiles.  The mouth of a cow closes the same way whether she's happy or sad.

             But humans have facial expressions.  Monkeys have a few, but nothing like people.  That facial expressiveness is part of our human-ness.  Here at Polyface, we've made a bit of a splash with the notion that we respect the pigness of pigs.

             A mask disguises the most person-distinctive characteristic of a person.  The most obvious thing that separates us from animals is facial expression.  Some people can't talk; some can't hear; some can't see.  But "body language" through the face is ubiquitous in all except the comatose--and even then, their dreaming can be reflected in facial expressions.

             Anyone like me who thought our country was becoming more partisan and less civil before Covid now has a new level of factionalism--the mask wearers versus the non-mask wearers.  It's the same divide between the re-openers versus the sustained lock downers. 

             Crises never create trends; they only bring sharper focus to existing trends.  This bifurcation of masks reflects a deep divide between those who are fearful and those who are more intrepid.  It reflects a difference in self-reliance and independence versus dependence on experts.  Another way to think of it is those who do not trust government versus those who trust government.

               The mainline news media and official government narrative, of course, favors the masks and lockdown.  The lunatic fringe, which includes many doctors and libertarian-minded folks, favors individual choice.

             I find the similarities with policy striking.  For example, 40 years ago when Virginia Commissioner of Agriculture Mason Carbaugh presented his annual report and included the phrase that organic farming was fine as long as you could pick which half of the world to starve, I was labeled a murderer.  Every time I failed to embrace a new technology du jour, I was labeled a murderer.

             At a food and farming summit in Washington a few years ago my banquet table mate introduced himself to me and immediately asked me why I wanted half a million oriental children to be blind (he was pro-GMO).  I find it fascinating that today when I don't wear a mask, this same narrative follows:  you're a murderer.

             What if I believe the mask lowers my blood oxygen by making me breathe my own exhaust, thereby making me MORE susceptible to the virus?  What if I think I need your exhaust to stimulate my immune system?  What if I have more faith in compost and soil than vaccines and ventilators?

             I would never tell someone to remove their mask; that's their choice.  But I'm not afforded the same respect in most places, or the option to make a choice.

             Why?