The 2016 presidential election season is in full swing. The respective nominees for the Republican, Democratic and Libertarian Parties have been selected. The media is all wound up, like a greyhound at the gate, to run full speed chasing the elusive artificial rabbit. After you’ve seen one race of this type, where the dogs chase the effigy of an animal around an oval track, it can become rather mundane. Especially when you consider that none ever catch the rabbit.
The political debate process, at least for me, often becomes strikingly similar to the dog race I’ve just described. Only in politics the prize, the rabbit, is actually the truth. And yep, that elusive little detail called the truth seems to be impossible for the media and those running for office to catch.
Often responses to the timely, important questions of our day sound overly rehearsed, being vetted, tested, and polled before they are given voice by the candidates. Presidential hopefuls seem to spend more time worrying about their like-ability than being completely forthright.
Outside of the debates, when confronted with cold hard facts, some will casually and at times indignantly ask, “why does it matter?” Shame on us for wanting to hear the untampered truth from their lips. And still others, believing that the end always justifies the means reply, “well it worked didn’t it?” Or, “we won didn’t we!”
Leaving me to wonder, what exactly is it that they’ve won? Certainly not an award for honesty, or recognition for their integrity.
The summer nights in Southern California are often cool. A gentle breeze courses through and over the coastal canyons carrying the familiar aroma of the ocean with a hint of sage. As a boy I remember one night laying in bed unable to fall asleep. I could hear this chirping sound coming from somewhere under my bed. It was a cricket. If I made noise it would stop, but when I laid perfectly still it would start up again. It wasn’t very loud, but it was enough to keep me awake. I got out of bed and began searching. Of course as soon as I started to move it became silent. So I paused, holding perfectly still until it started up again. Finally on my hands and knees I found the little critter. When I opened the door to release him outside I heard hundreds, if not thousands of crickets making their music in the distance.
Once upon a time, sounds like the start of a fairytale. Something from a bygone era. But once upon a time, values such as honesty, integrity and morality were important character traits not only for presidential candidates to have at their core, but also valued by media pundits, and the majority of the voting population.
Sadly, it’s not only the politicians who seem to have abandoned the truth. The media in all of it’s various forms and outlets are also adrift. They engage in recounting partial truths, if not avoiding the truth altogether. Their questions are oft times meant to be clever, or designed to ensnare. They react (oops, I mean report) using hyperbole and bias. With no fixed values to anchor them and no intact sail to catch the winds of truth they are pulled haplessly by currents of political correctness, situational ethics, self aggrandizement and the unending quest for ratings.
All which leads me to ask, “What ever happened to Jiminy Cricket?”
My guess is, right about now, you are wondering, what the heck does an animated, imaginary cricket have to do with any of this? So let me explain.
In the Disney animated classic Pinocchio the Blue Fairy, using her magic wand declared,
“I dub you (Jiminy Cricket) Pinocchio’s conscience, lord high keeper of the knowledge of right and wrong, counselor in moments of high temptation, and guide along the straight and narrow path. Arise, Sir Jiminy Cricket.”
Pretty cool right! Just like that this little wooden boy had a conscience. Being an official conscience, Jiminy was both wise and optimistic. Someone or something that could help Pinocchio discern between right and wrong, an inner voice to guide him along the straight and narrow path.
But this isn’t a fanciful, made up in Hollywood idea. A conscious is real. And everyone has one, or at least had one. Sometimes this inner compass, this illuminating beacon is called the light of Christ. Unfortunately this compass can be cast aside, and the beacon’s light eclipsed by repeatedly choosing to ignore the subtle promptings that are given to each of us.
Poor choices can have a numbing effect on the individual, just like the incremental administration of a powerful anesthetic and before long they are unconscious and past feeling. If left uncorrected such persons eventually loose their inner compass and turn away from the light.
Let’s return to the story of Pinocchio. In the original tale (pre Disney version), near the beginning, Jiminy is squashed by Pinocchio. And it’s his ghost or spirit that accompanies the little wooden boy on his quest to become a real boy.
In the 1930 movie Anna Christie, a Swedish Father used the expletive Jiminy Cricket(s)! several times as a polite euphemism for Jesus Christ.
Looking around at our world, when I see the actions of those in the political spot-light , I have to ask myself, what ever happened to Jiminy Cricket? Can’t they hear his subtle chirping? Or have they become numb to spiritual promptings, in essence turning a deaf ear to the still small voice of their conscious.
It has been years since I’ve had a cricket take up residence in my room. The chirping noise of crickets isn’t annoying to me anymore. In fact, it’s comforting. It reminds me to be still and listen.
Perhaps we could all use a nice cool breath of fresh air and a momentary pause to listen. And who knows you might just hear a cricket, Jiminy Cricket.