All things considered, it’s not really all that hard to obey the Ten Commandments, is it? Oh, sure, we all waffle a bit when it comes to coveting, but most of us manage to steer clear of outright murder and theft, and we’re pretty fond of Mom and Dad.
But then there’s that pesky Commandment Number Two, the one ordering us to “make no graven images.”
Are selfies covered under that rule?
But even if we stick with a hard-core interpretation that “graven” means only images crafted in wood, stone, or metal, we’ve still got a lot to answer for, right?
Like all those statues that city councils are removing from historic squares, or are being torn down by angry protestors if council members linger a bit too long over their coffee and donuts.
I won’t debate whether those graven images should stay or go, because you’ve heard all the arguments by now. Besides, I sometimes find myself on both sides of the issue.
Yes, some statues honor folks whose values and actions are abhorrent by modern standards — even though they were commonplace and legal back then.
But it also pays to remember that half of the commonplace, legal things you do today will someday probably be considered horrid or nonsensical. Things like driving to the store and buying water in plastic bottles. Or paying good money for kale and quinoa, and then (for heaven’s sake) putting it in your mouth. Don’t get me started.
It goes the other way too, doesn’t it, as yesterday’s horrid illegality sometimes becomes legal and commonplace. Today you can drive to Schaumburg and re-stock up on all the horrid, illegal marijuana the cops confiscated from you during that traffic stop last September. And you can wave at the cops as you leave the store.
So it’s hard to pass judgment on all those dead dudes from long ago without looking over your shoulder to see how many pitchforks might be heading your way when you’re gone.
It’s a wonder, though, how some of those statuary folks got themselves gravened in the first place.
Take Pierre Menard, for example, whose statue has stood in the Illinois State house (or thereabouts) since 1886. Oh, the name isn’t familiar to you? He was… (drumroll please)… our state’s second Lieutenant Governor! Or maybe he was the first Lieutenant Governor. Even the history books can’t agree on that, or on what he ever did to earn the honor of getting statued.
So I can’t say it bothers me all that much to see some faded-glory statues vanish.
But what does bother me is the manner in which it’s getting done: either by angry mobs tearing them down, or by city councilmen calling in the cranes. Because—come on—we’re Americans, right? And if we’re going to dethrone a statue, we should be doing it in the great American way:
Turn it into a sport—one that lets all Americans compete—and rake in money for it!
If you’re old enough, you may remember Home Run Derby of the 1960’s. In it, two great sluggers of the day — guys like Willie Mays and Mickey Mantle — were brought to a ballpark, where a pitcher served them lollipop pitches to smack out of the park. The park was empty except for the two sluggers, a pitcher, and a journalist interviewing whichever guy wasn’t hitting at the time. The only sounds in the park were the crack of a bat and the rattle of a ball bouncing around in the bleachers.
But then sometime in the mid-80s, someone got wise. We’re Americans, this guy said, and we can do this better. And so he sold tickets, filled the stadium, charged advertisers, hawked merchandise, and raked in the dough. It’s the American way, and it’s what we do best.
So when will we come to our senses and turn statue-toppling into a proper American sport? We don’t even have to violate social-distancing to do it.
Each week, America could vote by text (for a nominal fee) to pick two statues, which will be rigged with explosives at their bases. On Friday at 8 pm (Eastern Time) live voting opens (for a fee) to pick which statue will be blown up.
Imagine Ryan Seacrest at the start of the show: “This week’s challenge features Robert E. Lee versus Thomas Jefferson. Voting ends at 9 pm, so vote early and often. And don’t forget to visit GravenImage.com to see all the great American merchandise available! Because THIS… is Graven Image Challenge!” As America votes during the hour, Seacrest could explain all the ways each of the graven guys was a horrible person by current standards.
At the stroke of 9, as tension-filled music drones, with all of America leaning toward their TVs, thumbs numb from clicking hundreds of (nominal fee) texts, one or the other of the statues will erupt in flames and shatter into shards (available for purchase), to the cheers and groans of all the land. The other statue will live yet another week to challenge the statue of—well, who knows? Christopher Columbus? Eleanor Roosevelt? The Pope?
Only you can decide! So get your votes in early! Tell all your friends!
We’ve got enough statues to keep the show running for decades, until we’re finally a graven-image-free land in full compliance with Commandment Number Two.
And then we’ll figure out a way to cash in on all that coveting. Because we are America, and cashing in is what we do best. (Well, right after coveting, of course.)
Author, musician and storyteller TR Kerth is a retired teacher who has lived in Sun City Huntley since 2003. Contact him at trkerth@yahoo.com. Can’t wait for your next visit to Planet Kerth? Then get TR’s book, “Revenge of the Sardines,” available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online book distributors.
