Shalzed Chases Down Louisiana Attorney General Liz Murrill
Shalzed is a superhero who tried and failed to use his powers to achieve human rights. Now he speaks with individuals whose views he disagrees with, to persuade and understand. For his full bio, click here.
Today he chases down Liz Murrill, Louisiana’s Attorney General. She has been defending a recently passed law requiring that the Ten Commandments be prominently displayed in every public school classroom. Links to court documents and news stories show sources for what Liz says.
Every previous time I’ve been to Louisiana it’s been summer, when the afternoon sunshine makes you feel as hot as you’d be on Venus. Now that I gave up using superpowers to keep myself cool, I’m not going back in July or August. Lucky November is breezy and beautiful.
And just like I expected on a Sunday morning, Liz Murrill, Attorney General of the Pelican State, is on her way to church. One of those super megachurch places where a charismatic pastor shares the good news with 10,000 faithful at a time. Probably an ambitious politician like Liz likes it for all the networking and opportunities to glad-hand voters. I cut through the parking lot to avoid the curious gaze of a teenager in a high visibility vest directing traffic off the main road and walked over to where Liz was parking.
Her back seat was empty and none of her four boys were with her. Just her husband, John. That’s good, I hate dragging kids into their parents' business. I banged on the trunk with my first a few times so she would notice me as she opened her door.
“Fuck you, Shalzed,” she said as soon as she saw me. She got out quickly and slammed the car door shut.
“I didn’t think that’s the way a good Christian woman like you would talk,” I told her.
“I’ve got a gun,” John said. His voice was low and grave. I could only see his forehead, as he shielded his body behind the car just like the cops do in the movies. I felt pretty sure that freedom-loving, bible-thumping, Trumpers that they were, he wasn’t bluffing. Liz might well have a revolver in her purse too.
“Bullets won’t hurt me,” I told him. I really didn’t care if tried to take a shot, except that I’d feel guilty making a scene in the parking lot. “Maybe you haven’t heard, but I gave up using superpowers for destruction. I’m just here to talk.”
“Like you pointed out, I’m a good Christian,” Liz said. “I can’t talk now, it’s time for Church.”
“Fine, let me just give you the present I brought and we can discuss it later.” I opened my briefcase and took out a stack of 11x14 posters that said, “God is dead, and the actor plays the part.” The text was in bold white letters, with dark storm clouds as a background. I held them up for her to read, then instead of handing them to her I tossed them on the trunk. I was afraid if I moved closer poor John might feel it necessary to expend some bullets. I didn’t want to be responsible for more lead getting into the environment or any other such tragedy. “I’ve got a hundred here for you now, and I can send more so you’ll have enough for every classroom in all the schools.”
“It’s to avoid raising more assholes like you we need kids to learn the Ten Commandments,” Liz said.
“Really? What about people who go to synagogues, or Hindus or atheists and all that? Some people find Sting and his lyrics inspiring. Does every child in America deserve Christianity shoved down their throat?”
“It’s secular,” Liz said back. “We made 12 examples of how posters displaying the Ten Commandments in a secular context could satisfy the law (pp. 63-77).”
“One of them was even called tablet humor and was supposed to be lighthearted,” John added, lifting his head high enough to look at me. “Another one had the Ten Commandments next to Martin Luther King’s rules for non-violence. We’re being reasonable. You’re the fanatic, trying to root out even the slightest mention of Bible or religion from the schools.”
John was lying through his teeth, but to his credit he was at least a very good liar. Probably because just like Liz he was also a lawyer. The Louisiana law in question required an 11x14 poster with the Ten Commandments as the central focus, in a large, easily readable font. They hoped adding some nice secular stuff around the edges would be enough of a fig leaf to allow a friendly judge to conclude this wasn’t somehow all about religion. Fortunately, the judge they got told them to take a hike (pp. 81-82).
“So you want to throw up thousands of different posters in all the schools, and expect the parents to challenge each one separately in court if the secular stuff is too little?” I asked in my most incredulous voice.
“They’d always have the option,” Liz said.
“Because parents have all the time and money in the world to sue their kids' schools over posters, and judges have nothing better to do than review the decoration of every first grade classroom?” I nodded as if that somehow made sense (p. 22, 35-36).
John gave me a look that actually seemed sheepish. I wondered if he was positioned for a payday should there be all that litigation.
“It’s not coercive,” Liz said, putting her hands on her hips. Usually when lawyers change the subject like that it means they realize they’re arguing a losing point. “The kids don’t have to recite the Ten Commandments like they do the pledge of allegiance. The posters will just be there on the wall, the kids aren’t even forced to read it if they don’t want (p. 135).”
“Fine. So the God is dead posters that I brought shouldn’t be coercive then either. Put them up in every school and you can keep the Ten Commandments displayed also. Deal?” I reached my hand out to shake, even though Liz was standing too far away for me to reach her arm. She took another step back away from me anyway.
A car came by looking for a parking space, and the driver gave us a funny look. John straightened up and stood normally, maybe even put his gun away. I took that to mean we were getting on better terms. I should try inviting him to join me sometime for bowling while Liz works late at the office.
“Look at all the junk kids are exposed to today,” Liz said. “Schools need to take every opportunity to give them a message that’s wholesome.”
“If we want kids to grow up to respect the law, we have to start with respect for the original lawgiver, and that was Moses,” John added.
I wondered if they really were so blinded by their faith in the Church they really couldn’t see it. “Shame then the governor had to open his mouth and send a fundraising email saying this law was meant to advance Judeo-Christian values (p. 6, footnote 5),” I said.
“That’s exactly right,” Liz said. “Judeo-Christian values. That’s what this country was founded on, and what every American needs to believe in.”
“So you think I can’t be an American if I don’t go with to your shindig?” I asked, gesturing towards the Church entrance. It was as busy as a movie theatre on a Saturday night.
“Worship wherever you want,” John said. “Just have values, which I know must be hard for a mule-headed dumb ass like you.”
“Let me tell you something,” Liz began. “Even the atheists, and I know what I’m talking about because there’s a woman who works in my office that admitted to me she’s an atheist. They believe in the Ten Commandments, they just have some hang-up that stops them from admitting there’s a God, that’s all.”
“Funny but an atheist might say the ones with all the hang-ups are you,” I told them.
Music started playing so loud it sounded like inside the building was a rock concert. John glanced towards the Church. “Lion and the Lamb is the opening hymn,” he said, turning towards Liz. “It’s your favorite.” I couldn’t tell their hymns one from the other, they all sounded like what you’d hear on country radio to me.
“Got to go,” Liz said. “That is, unless you’re planning to pick up our car and use it to smash us?”
“I already told you I turned over a new leaf.”
“Lucky us, then,” Liz said. She walked to the front of the car and waited for John to take her hand. “You know I’m going to appeal,” she called over her shoulder.
“If I remember correctly, the rule the government can’t establish a state religion is actually in the constitution,” I said. “I think all the courts have to follow that.”
“Have a good Sabbath day,” Liz retorted. “And try to keep it holy. I have some posters that say that if you need one.”
I took my stack of God is dead posters off the trunk of the car as I watched them go. No sense letting them blow away, one crime I’ve still never been accused of is littering. I wondered whether there was any chance Liz’s appeal might be successful. The way the courts have been leaning more towards breaking down the separation of Church and state, it wouldn’t be so surprising. Whatever happens, I hope no future rulings are in the summer. Like I said, nothing’s dragging me back to the deep South when the sun is hot you can get a raw chicken from Walmart, pour on some barbeque sauce and put it in a pan by the window to cook.