Pro bono work for the poor and disenfranchised? Bar association causes and events? The Rotary?
Insular church groups? Work soup kitchens on Thanksgiving? An occasional letter to the editor? Chamber of Commerce membership for people who look and talk just like you?
Give us a break. Why don’t you just put on a little hat, play the banjo and do a self-congratulatory dance for co-workers, friends and neighbors? You’re barely living. You reside in a Deluxe Cave for Dorks.
Reach higher.
Anglo-Irish, Angry and Brave. So now add this Clergyman and Satirist to our Cosmos of Heroes. He was a unique and rare gent. Jonathan Swift (1667-1745), the author of Gulliver’s Travels, was truly authentic, and maybe not quite as sick and strange as his contemporary critics thought; they saw him through the lens of the many illnesses that plagued his last decade and put him in a permanently bad mood. Certainly, he had no fair shake from any of us in the last century, when we all went nuts on Freud.
Sure, Swift could be abrasive. And hyper-aggressive. He made enemies, both literary and political. But he was influential. We still talk about and, when at our best, emulate the purity underneath his anger and sarcasm. He is of course the man who, in his pursuit of Irish causes, and fighting the alternating apathy and arrogance of the English, suggested that Ireland’s poorest address their poverty by selling their children as food to the rich.
Those who knew Dean Swift were impressed that he put his ideas and notions of wrongs to be righted ahead of all of his many simultaneous careers. He put ideas and the plights of others ahead of his own comfort and popularity.
Big Moxie–it fueled Swift’s desire for justice and his need to end the suffering of others–had a life-long hold on Swift.
Yet he was very much part of The Establishment of the England and Ireland of his time. In fact, a mainstay.
So who’s brave these days?