Color U.S. Politics 'Dorian Gray'

Why don't we dial it down? Today, political anger too often manifests in outrageous behavior that violates the values we say we hold dear. Some of us behave as if our outbursts are atoned by muttering a mea culpa or distancing ourselves from an act of violence, even though our rage helped to create an atmosphere for that violence. Will American politics ever again play more respectfully, or have we entered the Era of Ceaseless Anger?

Civic protest and sharp disagreement in the public square are as American as the NFL, apple pie and SUVs. But as we continue our political rituals and wave the flag of free speech, why do we increasingly accommodate the intrusion of incessant anger in our public debates? We exchange hate-filled words as if we can outrun the consequences of doing so. It reminds me of the main character in Oscar Wilde's "A Picture of Dorian Gray." A new adaption of the Victorian classic about the young Mr. Gray, whose sins never seem to catch up with him, is now playing in the United Kingdom. Ben Barnes, who played Prince Caspian in the world of Narnia, is now the handsome Mr. Gray, whose shameful acts never mar his handsome looks but infest his portrait.

Some segments of American politics are gaining Dorian Gray's creepy patina because of an unabashed reveling in the loud and the profane. The wells of fury emerging from this fringe are startling. The decay their anger generates may not be immediately detected, and calls to stop its poisonous influence may be mocked, but the consequences of permitting unrestrained anger to infiltrate our national dialogue will tear us apart nonetheless. Our tolerance for perpetual antagonism triggers the memory of another classic: William Wilder's 1958 film, "The Big Country." In the western, two powerful men, Major Terrill (Charles Bickford) and Rufus Hannassey (Burl Ives), fight until they kill each other. Their families and everyone around them suffer because peace is not the goal. The last thing the men want is negotiation, although James McKay (Gregory Peck) offers them that option. Mutual destruction is the intent because Terrill and Hannassey would rather live like the Hatfields and the McCoys than civilized men.

The worst economic crisis since the Great Depression will not magically take a sabbath while thinking, reasoning people allow an angry and contentious fringe to grow more powerful and escalate rage to violent levels. How can we combat the grind of poverty in the U.S. -- now at an 11-year high -- with self-serving belligerence? How can we wisely combat new terrorist threats from al-Qaida if we are collapsing from within? From the "Holocaust denier" who allegedly gunned down a guard at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum to town hall meetings on health care that led to episodes like the finger-biting incident in California to the "You lie!" moment in the U.S. Congress to the shooting of a pro-life protester -- the din of American politics and the dangerous turn of our disagreements are gradually making public life feel slimier, backward and barbaric.

Our deepening inability to resolve conflicts, to lead with accountability in elected office, to acknowledge misjudgments with humility, to respect our leaders and institutions, to disagree without violence, to avoid spreading misinformation like arsonists, and to recognize our mutual problems puts us at great peril. Hostility has become an ominous national distraction. f we are not careful, if we are not diligent, the underbelly of our democratic society will become as horrifying as Dorian's Gray sickening portrait.