The arguments over Question 1 in Maine and federal funding of abortion in the House health care bill seemed to be more a clash of ideologies than a practical disagreement over the merits of either option. In both cases, one side was apparently motivated largely by religious convictions, and many are rightly considering whether this breaches the separation of church and state.

The American public sphere has become increasingly secular since 1947, when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that allowing state funds to be used for transportation to religious schools violated the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment. The principle of the separation of church and state has been the primary support for the secularization movement, but some may be surprised this phrase is not anywhere in our Constitution.

Instead, it comes from an 1802 letter by President Thomas Jefferson, responding to a Baptist congregation in Connecticut, which feared the dominance of the Congregationalist church in their area would limit others’ religious freedoms. Jefferson assured them the First Amendment had built a “wall of separation between Church and State” that would protect their religious expression. He elaborated on his views later, in an 1808 letter to the Virginia Baptists, saying, “We have experienced the quiet as well as the comfort which results from leaving everyone to profess freely and openly those principles of religion which are the inductions of his own reason and the serious convictions of his own inquiries.”

Secularists are using Jefferson’s idea in a distinctly different manner these days, arguing that religious beliefs should have no part in shaping governmental policies, even in voting. I understand their position, but the fact is that everyone, religious or not, makes their decisions based on personal ideologies. The presumption is that viewpoints based off anything other then religion is inherently better than ones that are. What makes a person “bigoted” if their philosophy comes from faith in a sacred text, and “objective” if their philosophy comes from culture and personal preference?

There is no doubt few Founding Fathers would have asked the same question. Frank Lambert, who wrote a book in 2003 about their beliefs, found that more than 70 percent adhered to formal religions, mostly Protestant. And many of the greatest causes in our nation’s history, from most civil rights movements to the American Revolution itself, were largely motivated by religious figures and ideals. I doubt today’s outspoken secularists would be yelling for religious people to shut up if we were still fighting for women’s suffrage or the abolition of slavery.

We are a far cry from seeing those just causes today, as so many religious advocates are choosing to crusade for moral issues instead of social justice. There is good wisdom behind the separation of church and state — spiritual decisions were meant to be a personal choice. Even if a faith-based viewpoint on morality is the right one, it should not be forced on an unwilling people through legislation. If someone truly believes in their way, their aim should be to win the hearts and minds of the general population, not Congress.

Earlier believers excelled at this, but today’s religious representatives instead are resorting increasingly to subversive and deceptive campaigns to gain support for their agendas. In many cases, it is not the ideas religious people promote, but the methods they use to spread these ideas, that opponents find so disagreeable and offensive.

Valuable insight can be gained from religion, and it would be damaging to push for these views to be excluded from the public forum. However, for their part, religious people in the political arena should be as principled in their campaigns as God would have them be, and seek the support of the people in championing policies they truly believe will make the country better.

Tyler Francke thinks there is still too much injustice in the world for churches to pick homosexuals who want to get married as their main opponent.

The Portland Phoenix’s Lance Tapley has been the only journalist to write regularly about the Maine State Prison in Warren for most of the decade. Maine isn’t listening.

The Maine State Prison has been accused of a wide range of human rights violations. Deane Brown, a prisoner and would-be whistleblower, was relocated to Maryland because he had information that made him “a threat to the facility,” wrote Tapley. Ryan Rideout, a 24-year-old mentally ill inmate, committed suicide. There are a score of other allegations.

Brown, 45, is serving a 59-year sentence for multiple burglaries. According to a complaint filed by his lawyer, the inmate befriended two journalists while imprisoned at Maine State Prison. One was Tapley and the other was Ron Huber, a Rockland radio personality. In October 2006, prison officials filed paperwork to monitor Brown’s calls to the two journalists. The next day, Warden Jeffrey Merrill told Brown in a letter that he was erasing their numbers from his approved call list, warning him not to disclose “confidential information.”

Brown was then linked shoddily to an escape attempt when an officer heard him say “an atomic bomb is about to hit the place.” This was on the same day of an interview with Tapley, meaning the bomb in question could easily have been a reference to information that would appear in Tapley’s article. Brown had never met the inmate accused of the escape attempt, the complaint says. With no evidence, Brown was placed in solitary confinement.

On Nov. 8 of the same year, the complaint says that a corrections official received a call from Merrill. In an e-mail, the official wrote, “I received a call from Warden Jeffrey Merrill … who indicated that it is very urgent that we transfer [Brown] today or tomorrow at the latest.”

Brown was transferred days later to a Maryland prison. His lawyer and power of attorney were not contacted. He has been effectively exiled away from his friends in Maine. Gov. John Baldacci has been written, according to Tapley and Huber, but has chosen not to act.

As bad as the Brown case is, the death of Ryan Rideout could be perhaps the largest case of abuse the prison has been involved in.

Rideout was a 24-year-old man with a history of severe mental illness. He told Renee Ordway of the Bangor Daily News from a jail cell that he had tried to kill himself 13 times since the age of 12 and had been diagnosed with many mental illnesses as well as placed on and off several medications throughout his life.

He was serving a 17-month sentence for burglary. He was hard to handle on the part of guards, so he was placed in the solitary confinement, super-maximum security wing. Even after his suicidal history, he was deemed to be not at risk, according to Merrill in a Rockland newspaper.

On Oct. 5, 2006, Rideout hung himself by tying a bed sheet to a sprinkler head, wrote Tapley. There have been allegations by fellow inmates that a guard taunted Rideout, urging him to commit suicide.

Why is a small arts and culture paper the only paper reporting on this? Tapley should be commended for his underrated journalism.

This problem is an inconvenient one — it involves people who have proven they can’t handle outside life. Still, a prison must treat inmates with care and respect. Prison is about rehabilitation, not just storage.

I call upon Maine’s Legislature to conduct thorough investigations into the above problems and into the conditions of the prison in general. At Maine State, 40 percent of prisoners take psychotropic medication, according to one of Tapley’s articles. Many do not belong in prison — they belong in a mental health facility, where they can be attended to by mental health professionals on a full-time basis.

Merrill resigned this August. We’ll never know if Tapley’s allegations of wrongdoing played a part in his decision to resign. The fact remains he went down in a firestorm of problems. If we are truly a state mindful of civil rights, all of us — from students to the legislature — must demand answers.

Michael Shepherd is a columnist for The Maine Campus.

Around noon, Hasan entered his workplace at Fort Hood military base, with two handguns and his pockets full of ammunition. Eyewitnesses said he bowed his head for a few seconds, presumably in prayer, and then opened fire, shouting “Allahu Akbar!” — Arabic for “God is great!” Within minutes, a dozen were dead and 30 wounded. Hasan was shot four times before being subdued by local police. He survived and is now in stable condition, awaiting military trial.

Hasan displayed certain signals in the months leading up to the shooting, actions that were once easily justified but in hindsight take on an ominous aura.

Six months ago, a user named “NidalHasan” made Internet postings glorifying the actions of radical Islamic suicide bombers. Federal authorities picked up the comments, but never definitively attributed them to Hasan. Family and friends have said he repeatedly criticized the American war efforts in Iran and Afghanistan and the military’s attitude towards Muslims. He even tried to be excused early, on religious grounds, from his obligation to the Army, which would have ended in 2010.

The list goes on. During his internship last year at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C., Hasan received counseling and extra supervision due to poor performance and statements that made others uncomfortable. Finally, he maintained regular contact in recent years with Anwar al-Awlaki, a radical imam and spiritual adviser to three of the terrorists involved in the 9/11 attacks. Al-Awlaki, now living in Yemen, praised Hasan’s actions on his Web site and encouraged other Muslim soldiers to “follow in the footsteps of men like Nidal.”

The unprovoked killing of unarmed soldiers and civilians at Fort Hood was a tragedy by itself, but it points to a more oblique problem: the stranglehold of political correctness. I mean, has anyone else been as bewildered as me to watch the television “experts” speculate endlessly about what Hasan’s motivation possibly could have been? Was it stress? Delusion? Latent psychosis?

I cannot fathom what thoughts were in this man’s mind as he calmly went about his errands on the morning he would bring about so much death. But his motive? Well, forgive me for stating the obvious, but I think it’s pretty clear that Hasan’s extremist, jihadist understanding of the Islamic religion fueled his rampage.

As Americans, and especially as university students, we have endured the shackles of political correctness for far too long. According to American journalist Richard Bernstein, the “P.C.” movement that started in the 1960s was originally more satirical than serious — an ironic self-criticism of the “radical left.” But now it has somehow become ingrained in our intellectual framework, and we freely accept exactly what then-President George H.W. Bush warned about in a speech to the 1991 graduating class of the University of Michigan: “Certain topics [will become] ‘off-limits,’ certain expressions ‘off-limits,’ even certain gestures ‘off-limits.’”

Once upon a time, the greatest virtue at a university, and consequently American intellectual circles, was the free exchange of ideas. These days, it appears to be “not offending people.” Hasan was a radical and unstable Islamic extremist with a history of expressing anti-American, pro-jihadist views. His reason for killing men and women in cold blood was his ideology, plain and simple.

Nidal Hasan operated on the fringe of a faith that is largely one of peace and worship, practiced as such by the vast majority of its adherents. However, until we begin to discuss these rare but devastating cases of radical fundamentalism in frank and unflinching terms, I fear we will continue to see such atrocities perpetrated, enabled by our desire to indulge religious sensibilities.

Tyler Francke has read the First Amendment and didn’t see the words “politically correct” anywhere.

The night of Oct. 24 marked homecoming at the high school. A 16-year-old girl went to the dance that night, and around 9:30 p.m. she left alone. She walked from the school, intending to call for a ride home. She made it no more than 400 feet when a classmate called to her from behind a fence separating a school courtyard from the street. He climbed the fence and accompanied her to a dark area with a bench.

There, a group of people were drinking. She chugged a bottle of brandy, quickly became heavily intoxicated and collapsed on the bench. Semiconscious, she was beaten, robbed and raped repeatedly by as many as seven men for more than two hours.

Police say up to two dozen bystanders witnessed the crime at close proximity. Some allegedly pointed at the victim. It’s been reported some laughed while others used cell phones to take pictures and rooted for the perpetrators. As word of the attack spread, more came to the scene and watched. Some of them may even have participated in the attack.

Thirty or more people may have been involved in this crime. It must have been mob mentality or the fear of being a snitch that silenced the voyeurs who watched. As for the perpetrators, a perverse notion of power must have rushed over them. They knew the attack would be easy, especially with such a crowd behind them. This is the most heinous type of crime.

It wasn’t until a nearby resident, 18-year-old Margarita Vargas, heard about the girl from her boyfriend, who did not witness the crime, that police were called. After the call, Vargas courageously went out to the scene to check on the victim.

“I could tell that she had been beat up because her face was swollen,” she said to a CBS affiliate in San Francisco. “She was naked, didn’t have shoes. They just covered her up and stuff.”

Police came to the scene to find the girl as Vargas had. She was taken to the hospital in critical condition. One suspect fled the scene and was arrested soon thereafter. Five other suspects have been arrested, as of Nov. 7. Four of them face life in prison.

In California it is illegal to witness a crime committed against a child and not report it. Sadly, the law only applies to children 14 years old and younger. The victim misses the cutoff by less than two years.

The perpetrators of the crime should receive life sentences for this cowardly and brutal assault on a helpless young girl. A judge giving them a lighter sentence irresponsibly ignores the victim and the safety of the public. But because of a legal technicality, the not-so-innocent bystanders can’t be charged. That year and a few months are the difference between jail time and total freedom for those who stood by and watched, doing nothing to stop this heinous crime.

Regardless of whether they are charged, I hope those voyeurs live out their lives with a wracking guilt worse than any jail sentence. At best, they are guilty of dawdling during the attack. At worst, they ridiculed and recorded a broken, battered victim of a horrific crime as it happened.

The victim was released from the hospital on Oct. 30 after a remarkable physical recovery. Emotionally, she faces a much longer road. I urge University of Maine students to show support for the victim of this crime by sending cards to Jane Doe, care of Richmond High School, 1250 23rd St., Richmond, CA 94804-1011.

Michael Shepherd is a columnist for The Maine Campus.

However, his position appears to have reversed in recent years. In 2008, he endorsed Proposition 93, a ballot measure — defeated by voters — that would have lengthened term limits in the Golden State. Furthermore, in a recent speech, he said term limits force experienced people out of office and even went so far as to call the California system, which confines governors to two terms in their lifetime, “crazy.” Perhaps the dramatic change of heart is due to Schwarzenegger’s realization that, come 2011, he won’t be back.

Speaking of crazy, despite the fact that the Governator’s opinion is clearly motivated only by his desire to stay in office, I think he might be right. Sort of.

In the executive branch of federal and state governments, where a great deal of power is in the hands of a single person, term limits are a very good idea. Incumbents in the United States are notoriously difficult to unseat, and without mandatory turnover in executive offices, many states — and perhaps our nation as well — could effectively be made into a dictatorship.

But should all political offices, federal and state, be bound by term limits? Philip Blumel, president of U.S. Term Limits, a Virginia-based nonprofit, thinks so. He believes term limits are one of the few checks to control corruption and wants restrictions placed on all politicians, big and small. But Blumel is a financial planner, not a politician. His only political involvement has been signature gathering and running campaigns to limit terms of city commissioners in Florida — successful campaigns, at that.

I wonder if Blumel would change his tune if he ever got elected to a state Legislature. The orientation process for a new congressman is lengthy and overwhelming, according to Teresa Hayes, D-Buckfield. Hayes has been a member of the Maine House of Representatives for three years and she is still learning new things every day. The amount of knowledge required to be effective and confident is “mind-boggling,” and Hayes said that learning the ropes in even a small Legislature like ours is like “grad school without a syllabus.”

Term limits for the Maine Legislature were passed as a citizens’ initiative in 1993, on the heels of an election scandal that created distrust of long-serving representatives. The scandal had indicated abuse of power by entrenched representatives who had held leadership positions for a decade or more. But the term limit law was overkill. What was needed was a restriction on leadership by legislators, not their ability to serve at all.

Beverly Daggett, Maine’s first female Senate president, has also noted the negative consequences term limits have had. In a 2005 article for Spectrum, she explained that term limits deliver “fresh ideas” into the arena at the cost of institutional memory and wisdom. According to Daggett, the most experienced and knowledgeable people in Augusta now are often the lobbyists and special interest groups, which makes it easier for them to take advantage of the people who actually make the laws.

The Maine Legislature, where power is distributed among 188 people, is not like the executive and doesn’t carry the same risks. Leadership within the Legislature should be controlled more, but to impose restrictions on all legislators is to limit no one but the voters – making it so the most experienced person for the job is the one person who is unavailable. There are many areas in our society in need of reform and rehabilitation in the coming decades, and we must have legislators who can think beyond the next eight years. Our law-makers do not require a fresh perspective more than the wisdom of what has worked in the past and the experience and confidence to do what needs to be done to make things better in the future.

Tyler Francke is not a political science student.

Bourgault requested a telephone interview and was a polite interviewee. I didn’t expect that from someone who shouts at students for a living. He quotes Bible verses from memory with incredible knowledge of the citations. He is obsessed with scripture. He lives his life by it and demands that others do too.

His sermons are all over YouTube. He has been ridiculed in college newspapers and online forums. One group on Facebook is sarcastically titled “Disciples of Brother Matt,” the name he insists he be called. His radical beliefs are the butt of many jokes.

According to Bourgault, he has preached in approximately 40 states and at 100 college and university campuses, which he sees as hotbeds of ungodliness. He said the perpetrator of the 2007 Virginia Tech massacre, Seung-Hui Cho, was a victim of the world view of humanism.

“They robbed him of his faith and then Virginia Tech wants to say ‘no, no, no, we’re not responsible.’ Well, they are. Vicariously, they are,” he said. “When you promote things on a university that are contrary to the word of God … you’re going to breed a bunch of perverts.”

We were talking about condoms when he made one of his more outlandish statements, saying condoms are “bringing more problems than [they are] solving. Condoms are not safe. They don’t protect you in every case. An example of that is the AIDS virus. It is known that the AIDS virus is 10 times smaller than the pores in a condom.”

Condoms don’t eliminate any risk, but they do cut many risks drastically. According to a 2000 report by the National Institute of Health, condoms can reduce the transmission of HIV by 80 percent.

He has little regard for feminism, believing the Bible describes a “very clear pecking order” of the sexes. “We would totally disagree with Obama’s agenda of telling the housewives to go back to work,” he said.

But he insists that he isn’t a chauvinist, saying, “I’ve been married 20 years. We have seven children. I don’t think I hate women.” He went on to say that he and his wife raised their 19-year-old daughter to be “very, very chaste. She’s a very good girl. We trained her up to be this way.”

He weighed in on Maine’s new same-sex marriage law, which will go up for popular vote Tuesday. He lamented Maine’s passage of the law, saying it was “a sign of the times” and “an abomination of God.”

Bourgault’s beliefs disgust me. They are outdated and don’t work in a changing society. So why did I hang up the phone respecting him?

There is something strangely quixotic about the man. He struggles against the status quo for a change he sees necessary for our salvation. Tomatoes fly at his signs. Students scream at him and sometimes try to push him around. But he buttons up his white shirt, dons his signature red tie, grabs his signs and his dog-eared Bible and puts it all on the line. He’s got guts. He knows that he is right, even when we all think he isn’t. This is admirable.

We all want a pulpit for our opinions. Bourgault creates his own among a hostile crowd, and for that, if nothing else, he deserves some respect.

“I’m committed. And by the grace of God, I’ll continue to preach,” he declared.

Well, Brother Matt, I hope you do.

There had been so many clear indicators the scariest night of the year had come and gone. I had seen some strangely dressed individuals, but on second thought, I couldn’t conclude they were wearing costumes unless “lazy college student” and “wannabe trendsetter” were the hot-ticket items of 2009. I’ve seen on-campus vandalism, but destruction and defacement happen every weekend and are perhaps due to a different kind of influence.

OK, so maybe it hadn’t been Halloween after all. But then why have I felt so afraid?

The University of Maine has been recently beset by outspoken political activists, grim swine flu warnings from administration, sign-toting religious extremists and high-profile guest lectures on the continued threat of terrorism. What one thing ties them all together? The use of scare tactics to persuade and convince. All things considered, it’s no wonder I thought all the spookiness was due to an overzealous celebration of All Hallows’ Eve.

If only that were really the case. The sad reality is that fear mongering — perhaps first widely used in the United States during the Red Scare under former Sen. Joe McCarthy — remains a subtle but powerful weapon in the hands of those who would sway the masses to support their agendas and beliefs.

The use of scare tactics by federal officials has a well-established history in our country, but it seems to be gaining popularity even in local politics, as evidenced by some of the arguments supporting or opposing issues on the Nov. 3 ballot. Whether we’re talking TABOR, school consolidation or same-sex marriage, I enjoy analyzing the merits of each topic. But when either side starts arguing that their opponents’ position would bring factually unsupported but deeply disturbing consequences, I end up hopelessly confused.

This is exactly why fear is so commonly used as a persuasive tool. In addition to being cheap and easy, it is highly effective.

Ironically, by bringing this to light, I may be frightening some readers myself. This is not my intention, nor do I want to encourage cynicism or distrust. The use of fear by the powers that be is something every citizen should be aware of. In the face of such a worrisome trend in politics at all levels, a solution is necessary to get the fear mongering out of our political process.

There is a solution that is both profoundly simple and powerful enough to expose fear-based arguments as the baseless circumventions of authentic debate they truly are: information.

Fear can only convince an uninformed populace. Substantiated facts, observable evidence, multiple sources of objective information, logic and reasoning — these are our tools in the fight against fear. A solid opinion formed on the basis of unbiased data is not formed quickly or easily, but if we choose not to seek out the truth, we will be less swayed by the fear-based arguments of the modern political arena — some of which are so ludicrous they actually do seem more suited to a Halloween ghost story than a legitimate debate.

We face big decisions in the coming months, from the referendum election on Nov. 3 to whether or not to get a swine flu vaccination. As an active citizen fortunate enough to have a functioning brain and a wealth of resources at your fingertips, do your duty to make those decisions informed ones. Look at both sides of the issues and make sure your opinions are based on facts, not fright. If we can all follow the simple guidelines laid out above, we have no reason to be afraid.

The University of Maine is a liberal-leaning New England public university. Therefore, I expected the effort of the No on 1 campaign here would be strong. Yes on 1 has gone AWOL here, leaving the campus battleground to the defenders of gay marriage, and they have capitalized on the opportunity.

I support all of this — gay marriage, campaigning on campus and free expression. I have written columns in this paper supporting these values. However, that doesn’t mean I like this campaign process. It has become a dogfight between two sides that have left many real issues behind for sensational ones.

The Yes on 1 campaign has been perversely trying to accentuate the fact that children will be taught about gay sex in schools. Watch the latest television spot of theirs. A teacher sits in front of a blackboard which purports to show what will be on Maine’s chalkboards if this law is affirmed. It says at the top, “What is gay sex?” Underneath, it has the words “kissing” and “hugging” with checkmarks beside them. Next to that, it shows two Venus symbols, used to denote the female gender. They say that questions about gay sex in Massachusetts schools have been answered “thoroughly and explicitly.” This is sensationalism at its worst.

What of the “no” campaign? I don’t have as many complaints, probably because they are the respondents in this debacle. I don’t like some of their ads, namely the one with the Catholic mother sitting on a park bench doing all of the talking while her gay son, his partner and their son sit there smiling. Why don’t they tell us what a “no” vote will do for them? They let the mother talk because she is Catholic. Her church doesn’t support gay marriage, but she does. This is a plausible tactic. But the gay couple and their son serve no purpose in the ad whatsoever but to prove they exist, doing nothing to support dialogue between gay and straight people or progressive and traditional values.

Although I admire No on 1’s tactics more than the “yes” folks, I do especially take issue with one of its practices on campus.

Conducting “class raps,” in which volunteers go into classes and speak about an issue at hand, is one No on 1 campaign tactic that seems unethical. An organizer on campus said class raps were great because students are a “captive audience.”

I don’t go to class to hear class raps. This is a state university and much of the space on our campus is public domain. Professors can volunteer their class time to whatever group they want. But I wouldn’t do that to my students. A fair-minded professor wouldn’t. Expensive credit hours are for teaching and learning. That boundary shouldn’t be crossed. Should all opinions be represented on campus? Absolutely. But classes aren’t the right place to do it.

I hate to use the word propaganda, especially in reference to a campaign fighting for a cause that I believe in. The word makes me seem paranoid. But it is only fair to say that what “class rap” professors agree to is consent to propagandize their students with beliefs they approve of. I doubt the majority of these teachers would allow the “yes” group to take a few minutes of class to sound off. That isn’t fair.

There are eight days until this referendum. Let’s take a break from these campaigns and examine all of the issues ourselves. It will make for a more clearheaded decision on Nov. 3.

And now, from Colorado comes the latest in mostly fictional, alliterative child pity cases: “Balloon Boy.”

If you didn’t catch the story, let me fill you in. Last Thursday, the world media watched as state officials frantically pursued a huge, saucer-shaped helium balloon, to which was attached a flimsy cardboard box that may or may not have contained a 6-year-old boy, aptly named Falcon. Please read the previous sentence again if needed. The story ended happily when the boy was found safe and sound in the family’s attic, apparently the one place his mom didn’t look before calling the National Guard.

I don’t know about you, but my heart feels warmed. Unfortunately, the story goes a bit deeper.

Falcon’s family are no strangers to publicity. The parents, Richard and Mayumi Heene, are well-known locally for their amateur science experiments, tornado chases, UFO hunts and profanity-laced online videos starring their three sons. They gained national exposure when they appeared on the reality show “Wife Swap,” where their bizarre antics proved so popular that fans voted them back for a second appearance.

Wolf Blitzer magnified public suspicion of a hoax during an interview shortly after the Heenes’ joyful reunion. When asked by his father the obvious question of why he stayed hidden even when he heard his mother calling for him, the would-be balloonist replied, “You guys said we were doing this for the show.” The parents’ shocked, bumbling reactions — mostly blowing hot air (pun intended) — were hilarious. You can see for yourself on YouTube.

Of course this is all speculation, and the Heenes — who Larimer County Sheriff Jim Alderden said will face felony charges — are innocent until proven guilty. And just because Falcon may never have been in any real danger doesn’t change the fact that I’m glad he didn’t fall out of a helium balloon to his death.

However, if the balloon incident does turn out to have been an inflated hoax, it will be disturbing — and not just because of the senseless waste of police time and money. If staged, Falcon’s fake flight would be another sign of a growing trend: the exploitation of children by their parents through the mass media.

The Jackson 5, Macaulay Caulkin and a slew of others would tell you this is nothing new. The use and abuse of child actors in the entertainment industry is well-established. But in recent years, we have seen an alarming rise in the number of shows based around real-life children — not actors — dealing with trying, often outrageous situations.

Programs like “Jon & Kate Plus 8” and “18 Kids and Counting” turn the difficulties of rearing large broods into great entertainment for anonymous viewers. These families need more hours in the day as it is, and television ratings shouldn’t be their focus. Questionable parenting habits are further explored in shows like “Toddlers and Tiaras” and “I Know My Kid’s a Star,” in which viewers see often overwrought moms and dads trying to turn their 5-year-olds into beauty queens and superstars. These people need their bad parenting corrected, not validated by an appearance on a national television show.

These shows give people outlets for abusing their kids and put a premium on dysfunction. In the same way, the media enables travesties like the Heenes’ balloon ordeal. This “extreme parenting” trend has to stop. Growing up is hard enough without having to deal with parents’ half-baked quests for their 15 minutes of fame.

As for Falcon and his two brothers, I say they should find their way to their grandparents’ or other relatives’ house as soon as possible. But forget the balloon this time – a bus is much less conspicuous.

I have heard many stories of harassment by this group and I do not doubt that many happened. The uproar got me thinking. What do religious groups have to do to be allowed on campus?

The answer is nothing – if they stay in the right places. According to Associate Dean of Students Angel Loredo, the mall is the university’s main public space. If somebody wants to show up to preach their gospel, they can. As a state university, our school must serve as a public forum to a certain degree. Infringement upon that would be a violation of the First Amendment right to freedom of speech.

Eight years ago, notorious self-proclaimed evangelist and nationwide roving college preacher Matt Bourgault came to UMaine. In an Oct. 11, 2001 opinion piece in The Maine Campus, Amanda Hebert wrote, “He waved his dog-eared copy of the King James Bible for at least four hours, sometimes for crowds of nearly 100 and sometimes to almost no one at all.” He blamed 9/11 on America’s moral shortcomings and called UMaine and college students nationwide a laundry list of names, none of which were pleasant. Here are the highlights, according to Hebert:

“Fornicators. Drunkards. Pot smokers. Masturbators. Adulterers. Liars. Blasphemers. Sinners.”

Bourgault has been much maligned on American campuses. He has been assaulted and charged with battery. He won $500 in damages from Southern Oregon University after they kicked him off of campus for violating the “verbal harassment’ and ‘creating an unreasonable atmosphere’ clauses of SOU’s Open Forum free speech policy,” according to the Mail Tribune, a southern Oregon newspaper. A judge said that the university’s policies were too vague and had violated Bourgault’s constitutional freedoms.

We must realize as freedom-loving people that freedom of speech goes in many directions. Any of us has the equal right to dissent. This dissension can be about anything we want it to be, just so long as we do not incite a deliberate, imminent and likely danger to society. Hate is legal. Persuasion to a likely violent end is not. These religious groups on campus did nothing of that sort.

I have even heard complaints on campus about the Gideons, the organization that handed out green New Testaments on campus on Oct. 14. I had a great interaction with a person near the library that day. He was polite, handed me a testament and commented on my Red Sox sweatshirt. The Gideons have placed more than a billion Bibles in hotel rooms worldwide since 1908.

This makes me wonder if college students as a whole have an increasingly negative opinion of religion – in our case, mainly Christianity. According to a 2008 report by Trinity College, 30 percent of Americans who say they have no religion are between the ages of 18 and 29. The report says the percentage of Americans who have no religion “increased from 8.1 percent of the U.S. adult population in 1990 to 15 percent in 2008.” These numbers greatly exceed the combined total of all non-Christian religious groups in America.

I am not a religious person at all. I would be in that “no religion” group. I just fear that many of our young people are losing respect for religious establishments because of the louder, more radical voices of notable evangelicals. They don’t represent the mainstream Christian — who is much quieter.

If groups of radicals or any group you don’t agree with come to campus in the future, please try to avoid them. If they harass you, contact Public Safety. But please don’t think religious groups should be banned from campus. Even if you don’t agree with everyone you meet, you may find your viewpoints could be strengthened and diversified by healthy conversation.