Category: politics

When I first heard that Queen Elizabeth had died yesterday, I have to admit my initial reaction wasn’t reverential. In fact, I posted a little bit of snark on Facebook. I’ve just never been someone who has followed the Royal Family’s doings. In my mind, we fought a war almost 250 years ago to disconnect from the monarchy, and yet a whole lot of people today act like they want to be part of the whole thing. Also, the royals haven’t had any real power for a century or more. I’ve never gone in for pretention of any kind, and it has always seemed to me that the Royal Family basically exist to be pretentious.

With all that said, I’ve spent the past day or so reflecting. Regardless of how I might feel about it, many people do feel a genuine connection to the Queen and the family. It’s inexplicable to me, but it’s real to them. So this feels like a personal loss to them, and that needs to be respected.
I have also thought about the longevity of the Queen’s reign. I know of no other sovereign who ruled as long as QE II did. The two that come the closest, at least that I know of, are Hirohito (63 years) and Queen Victoria (64 years). A 70-year reign is mind-blowing. When she ascended to the throne in 1952, Harry Truman was President. Television was still very much the new game in town, and most people still got a majority of their entertainment through radio. McCarthyism was in full swing. The Athletics were still in Philadelphia, the Braves were still in Boston, the St. Louis Browns still existed (thogh not many really cared), and the Dodgers and Giants were still the darlings of Brooklyn and Coogan’s Bluff. In summary, it was a real long time ago. That kind of longevity needs to be celebrated.

I mentioned how in my view the Royal Family basically exist for pretention. Yet interstingly, much of what I have heard and read over the past 2 days seems to indicate that QE herself wasn’t terribly pretentious. I’ve seen descriptions of her that talk abut how approachable she was, how she was able to interact wit her subjects on their level, I even saw a few references to her being “cool”. So perhaps I judged too harshly.

I’m just not comfortable with any monarchy, or any government that’s based on inheritance as opposed to competence and/or the choice of the people. But, again, I know a lot of people feel differently than me, and I don’t have a monopoly on right and wrong. And any death is sad, even the death of a 96-year-old who lived an incredibly full life. I think we can all be certain that King Charles won’t last 70 years. So here’s a toast to Queen Elizabeth II, to a life well lived.

I chose to not watch the Jan. 6 hearings Thursday night. It’s not because I don’t care; I very much do care. In fact, I might care too much. The reason I didn’t watch is because I don’t need to be convinced how historic (not in a good way) the goings-on were on that day. I was convinced in real time. That day is as etched in my memory as 9/11 and the day of the Challenger explosion, the other two huge news events of my adult life. I remember tuning into CSPAN at the beginning of the roll call of states. When they got to Arizona, of course, there was a challenge, which caused applause to break out in the chamber. It was then that Sarah convinced me to turn it off and lay down for a nap. I think it wasn’t much more than a half hour later that my texts started blowing up. I woke up enough to grab my phone to look, and the first text I saw said “They’ve breached the Capitol.” Um, wait, what? Who? I learned soon enough what and who. I was glued to every news source I had access to (we have no TV in the house) for the rest of the day. The best description I can come up with for how I was feeling was gut-punched. I’ve read about the British invasion of DC during the War of 1812. I never thought anything like that would ever happen again, and this time it wasn’t even foreign enemies, it was Americans. And, all of America was united in horror and revulsion, for maybe 24 hours. I think it may have been the very next day I saw my first Facebook post where someone claimed this was just a peaceful protest that got a bit out of hand. And maybe it was Antifa. Or it was Nancy Pelosi’s fault, though I’m at a loss to know what an 82-year-old lady could have done in the face of a mob bent on mayhem. Nevertheless, all these alternate narratives took hold in certain segments of the public, and they’re still held very strongly. At this point, even if Donald Trump himself was somehow convinced to add narration to the film footage complete with audio description for the visually impaired, it wouldn’t make a dime’s worth of difference to these segments of the public. They’ve turned their eyes away and put beans in their ears long ago. The older politicians learned lessons from Watergate. I think at least some of them probably think now that if they had just held on longer with the third-rate burglary narrative, the public would have either been swayed by their arguments or just simply tuned out. And maybe that’s who I’m the most angry with right now; those who just can’t be bothered, who think it’s just all politics. I can’t totally blame them; that’s how much of the media has portrayed the past 1.5 years. Rather than the attempted coup it was, it’s been seen as just another mud-slinging contest between the parties. Yawn. Sadly, this is another segment who will never be convinced with hearings like this, because they’re skipping them in favor of Netflix or binge-watching Gilmore Girls. I fear we have reached a point where nobody cares enough to change anything anymore. This will probably lead to the Republicans taking over control of the House and Senate in the November elections, which means the next 2 years will be nothing but an ongoing circus in DC, though I have no doubt some will enjoy the spectacle. And, when 2024 rolls around, enough people will decide, you know, Disantis really isn’t that bad, at least he’s not Trump. And then, as Don Meredith used to sing during blowouts on Monday Night Football, turn out the lights, the party’s over. And that is when certain segments of the population will finally wake up saying hey, wait a minute! This isn’t what I wanted! Sorry. Too bad, doodad, too late. So, I’m very thankful that the Jan. 6 Committee has done all this work. I salute their efforts. The things I’ve read about Thursday’s hearings have been mostly very positive. But, in the long run, has all this work been futile? Will it all come to naught in the end? Very sadly, sitting here on a mostly sunny Saturday morning, my gut is telling me yes. With every fiber of my being, I hope I’m wrong.

Tonight I’m remembering Election Day four years ago. Nov. 8, 2016. My bride and I had flown back to Indiana from visiting family and friends in Washington State the day before. Throughout election season, I was pretty confident Hillary was going to win in a landslide. How could it be otherwise? Donald Trump had shown us all who he was, again and again and again. Surely, with all that we knew, most people couldn’t actually vote for him, right? There were some little signs in the last few weeks that maybe it wouldn’t be as much of a beatdown as I thought, first and foremost being the infamous Comey news conference. But, even as I awoke on Election Day, I wasn’t terribly worried. So the win wouldn’t be as epic, but a win was still a win. I was still holding my optimism around noontime when I began to see that exit polling wasn’t going exactly as planned. No matter, good would still prevail. When the polls closed at 8 PM, I was at my computer, ready to check returns as they came in. And then…Hillary’s expected lead wasn’t materializing. In fact, she was running behind, at least in the electoral college numbers. And then…it did not change. I think it was around 11 PM, when the polls closed on the West Coast, that I figured out the unthinkable had happened. At that point the bottom dropped out of my stomach. What? How? How did this happen? How could this happen? This was one of the first times my faith in the basic goodness of people was truly shaken. Many of my friends, no doubt trying to be helpful, told me not to panic, there were checks and balances, Congress would rein him in, nobody would let him run roughshod, etc. We all know how that turned out. Now we find ourselves staring down the barrel of another Election Day, seven days from now. I hope, and I pray, it won’t be an instant replay of four years ago.

Day nine.

I’m happy to say there’s some improvement. The depression that weighs me down like a wet blanket has not been in evidence all day today. I’ve been able to read things about the transition of power without having the overwhelming urge to hurl my keyboard into deep space. Rest assured, though, that this does not mean I’m down with this, because I’m not. It is what it is, and I accept it as a factual matter, but I will never like it.

At this point, I’m wondering what I can constructively do moving forward. Sitting here all day every day sharing tidbits of Trump’s awfulness is feeling more and more counterproductive. The point has been made, and it probably isn’t necessary to beat the dead horse into dust. Joining a street protest is impractical for any number of reasons, although admittedly there’s a significant part of me that would love to do so. Upon reflection, it seems to me that one way I can do something positive is by doing what I’m doing now, writing. Nobody knows better than me how saturated the blogosphere is these days, and I know I won’t ever be on par with the likes of John Pavlovitz or Rachel Held Evans. Nonetheless, I do have things to say, and if I can reach even one person, then I’ve accomplished something great. I’m also planning to embark on a study of Dietrich Bon Hoeffer. I think much of what he said and wrote is quite pertinent to this day and time. The important thing is, I wish to be a productive voice, even if only a few might hear me.

I want to say a word or two here about my societal leanings. yes, Virginia, I am a liberal. And I wouldn’t be surprised if that word made at least one person stop reading and leave the window in disgust. You know what? We don’t bite. Liberals are just as human as conservatives, complete with hopes, fears, likes, dislikes, and all the rest. Even now, after subjecting myself to far too many flame wars in Facebook comment threads, I really don’t think there’s as much distance between liberals and conservatives as it seems, if we would just listen to each other and stop running our mouths. So yes, I have a liberal bent. I hope that doesn’t make me toxic for you.

I believe I have settled down enough to at least attempt to do some writing on my feelings about what happened last Tuesday. Thus far my random musings have been pretty much confined to random snipes on Facebook. So, here goes nothing.

Here’s a brief recap of my reactions, more or less in order. Tuesday night, I was numb, in disbelief. It really didn’t feel out of the realm of possibility for me to wake up Wednesday morning to discover it had all been an epic nightmare. Wednesday and most of thursday, I was in a very deep, somewhat debilitating depression. I really didn’t want to do anything. After that, I went into analysis mode; Where do I go from here? What do I do now? Which gets us to where I am now. Right now, the dominant emotion I’m feeling is anger. Yes, sports fans, to put it into somewhat vulgar vernacular, I’m royally pissed. Please understand this, I’m not angry because the candidate I voted for lost. I voted for Mondale, Dukakis, Gore and Kerry, and after all those elections I grumbled, griped and groused aplenty, but ultimately I moved on. But that doesn’t seem possible this time. Reagan, Bush Sr. and Jr. did not represent seismic shifts in so many things, first and foremost being plain, garden variety decency. No matter how much I disagreed with the Presidential candidates I voted against on policy and other things, I at least had an idea that they were decent human beings. Honestly, I don’t get that feeling from Trump. He has stomped around like the proverbial schoolyard bully for the past year and a half, making it very clear which groups of people he wants to stick it to once he got elected. And guess what? He did get elected. No, this is not sour grapes, being whiny, or anything else those of us who have spoken out have been accused of. In my instance, at least, it boils down to one specific thing–fear. Absolute terror, if you want to get technical. I’m afraid that Trump’s win has unleashed forces that we’ve never seen before in this country and can not be bottled back up, even if we try. The part of me feeling the white-hot anger just wants to get in the face of Trump voters and say “You voted for this! How could you vote for this?”

Rationally, I know it isn’t as simple as that. I know Donald Trump didn’t embolden 59 million plus Americans to give their inner bigot free rein. There are many Trump voters I know who are kind, decent human beings who would be horrified if anything bad ever happened to a family member or loved one. And therein lies a huge part of the problem. Society has sorted all of us into several different subgroups; male, female, white, person of color, gay, straight, just to name a few. Some people belong to multiple subgroups. I am a white male, which feels a lot like stepping into the batter’s box with a 2 and 0 count already up on the scoreboard. But I am also a disabled person, which puts me in that subgroup as well. We are also a tribal society, meaning we all have tribes made up of family and friends. If we are a member of a marginalized subgroup, oftentimes our tribe lose sight of that. They do not, however, lose sight of the subgroup in general. The result of this is, the generalizations people make about certain marginalized group do not apply to members of their tribe. So when they step into the voting booth, they’re not thinking of their friend or family member who happens to be female, a person of color, LGBTQ, disabled, or any and all of the above. What they are thinking about are those “others”. Humanity is lost, and they can minimize anything Trump has said or did, who he actually is, everything else, because by golly he’s going to make America great again. How do you suppose that makes your friend or loved one feel?

It’s probably going to take a while for me to work through the anger I’m feeling, and once I come out on the other side I probably won’t be feeling any sort of acceptance. As I said in my blog post yesterday, like it or not he is my President, and he needs to remember that. He needs to remember that me and those like me deserve as consideration as much as those who voted for him.

One last thing…I know some of you voted for Trrump based on abortion, gun rights, or other related issues. Maybe you felt like you didn’t have a choice. Thing is, you did have a choice. You knew what type of man he was, everybody did, but you voted for him anyway. You voted for him knowing the things that might happen, despite what it might mean for me and those like me. I do fervently hope and pray things won’t turn out as dark as I feel they could. I know anything is still possible. But all I can go by is what I’ve seen up to now, and it isn’t encouraging, particularly when I look at who he is tapping for leadership positions. All I can say is, you got the whole package, not just the parts you think you liked. Hold on with me, it’s probably going to be a bumpy ride.

I want to start right here and say this: Nobody is more horrified and freaked out than me about the looming Trump Presidency. I fear it will have dire implications for many of us. With that said, I want to direct a few words to my fellow freakouters.

I have lost count of how many times I’ve seen the phrase not my President over the past three days. It’s a hashtag that probably blew up Twitter, and for all I know is still blowing it up. But here’s the thing: While I completely understand the sentiment, I can’t go along with it. Nobody can deny facts, and the fact is Trump is my President. He is your President. Expanding it further, he is the President not only of the 59 odd million people who voted for him, but also the 60 odd million people who voted for Hillary, and the 200 plus odd million people who didn’t vote at all. He is the President of all of us, like it or not. I don’t, but it doesn’t make it any less true. We can’t go by just what we want or what we think should be, we have to go with what is.

Since he is President of all of us, he needs to take all of us into consideration. He needs to take into account the wants, needs and fears of those who disagree with him along with those who agree with him. I don’t know whether he will do this or not, but I do know saying “not my President” will give him the ultimate excuse to not.

The important thing is for us who feel things slipping away from us to stay engaged. We need to stay active in the arenas of discourse and action. We need to talk, Email, call, everything we can do, to maximize our voice so it is heard. We need to tell our stories as often as it takes for people to listen. It’s going to take a lot of elbow grease, and it will probably feel like trying to roll the rock perpetually uphill, but if we keep at it we can accomplish something. There’s almost no doubt in my mind the next four years will be rough, but if we all keep doing our part we will come out on the other side, perhaps a bit battered and bruised but nevertheless in one piece. Yes, he is my President, and I intend to do everything in my power to make sure he remembers that. If enough people do the same, maybe, just maybe, he’ll hear us.

As I write this, it is late Saturday night, October 15. Right now the plan is for Sarah and I to vote this coming Thursday, and Election Day itself is 24 days away. I have some thoughts I need to express on this point.

For the past week or so Donald Trump has become pretty much unhinged, firing up his base with talk of rigged elections and conjuring up fevered visions of rampant voter fraud. None of this, of course, is based in any semblance of reality, but there are some of his followers that are eating this up. I’m seeing reports from his rallies that there are some of his followers that are using words like revolution, bloodshed, and other words that bring the term sedition to mind. Make no mistake, at this point I don’t think there’s a snowball’s chance Mr. Trump will actually come out on top in the election. What I do think, based on what I’ve seen recently, is there are those who will believe that the election will have been stolen from him, regardless of how lopsided the outcome might be. I have a lot of fear about what might transpire around Election Day. I’m not speaking metaphorically; sitting here, at this moment, I feel actual, bona fide, measurable terror. I know in my heart that 99.9 percent of what is being thrown around right now is nothing more than bluff and bluster. There is no doubt in my mind that most so-called “patriots” out there are nothing more than paper tigers who will shrivel up like wilted lettuce at the first sign of any pushback. But it only takes a few idiots with firepower to do damage. I’m hoping cooler heads will prevail, but at this point Mr. Trump, far from discouraging this dangerous talk, seems to be fanning the flames. All I can do is pray we get through this, and we can somehow find our way back again from this terrible brokenness.

Events such as the terrorist attacks in Paris and Beirut last week tend to bring out the absolute best and the absolute worst in people. Unfortunately, over the course of the past few days, the majority of what I’ve been seeing falls into the worst category.

Several governors (all Republican, by the way) have stated they will not allow any Syrian refugees to enter their states. The fact that they can’t actually do this hasn’t seemed to dawn on any of them. Further, this is a crass and craven political gesture that is ultimately meaningless, but actually has some rather damaging potential consequences. Even if they could do this, it would be absolutely wrong. If we are, as many continuously claim, truly a Christian nation, then we absolutely cannot do this. This is directly antithetical to the Biblical directive to show hospitality to the refugee, the widow and the orphan. It seems to me that it is possible to set up effective safeguards that would, to the best of our ability, keep the bad apples out. That seems a much better course of action than literally slamming the door in the faces of so many that really and truly need our help.

Some will argue that draconian measures are necessary to keep us safe. Certainly safety is important, but it’s also important to remember that life itself is a constant risk. When you swing your legs over the edge of the bed in the morning and put your feet on the floor, that’s a risk. Walking to the bathroom is a risk. Brewing the morning coffee is a risk; I’ve actually burned my hand when some scalding hot coffee spilled. The point is, there is no way one can ever make life completely risk-free. And, when we don’t do something we know in our hearts is the right thing to do in the name of staying safe, do we really deserve that safety? I am at the point in my life where I’m really beginning to wonder if not doing something I feel called to do because of perceived safety concerns is something I should keep doing. The way I’m currently leaning, the answer to that question would have to be no. Getting back to the larger point, as a country we could do far better than denying people sanctuary based on where they came from.

I have a rather shameful confession to make. Yesterday was Election Day, and I did not vote. I could tell you a number of potentially good reasons why, but in the end they all amount to nothing more than plain old garden variety excuses. The bottom line is I shirked my civic duty. The fact that there was nothing of earth-shattering significance on the ballot in my neck of the woods and that everyone I would have voted for in local contests won is immaterial. I have come down hard on people in the past for not casting ballots, and by not doing so yesterday I failed to hold myself to that same standard. Looking at some of the results from yesterday makes me feel even worse, even though there was nothing I could have done to change anything. Shame on me for not doing my part!

I was particularly distressed by the results of the gubernatorial contest in Kentucky. Jack Conway, the Democratic nominee, was defeated by Republican Matt Bevin, who is reportedly a TeaParty stalwart. Among other things, it’s my understanding that Bevin has pledged to essentially dismantle Kentucky’s very successful state insurance exchange and opt out of the expanded Medicaid program, which would terminate medical coverage for 400,000 residents of the state. I was all set to rant and rave about how this was an example of people voting against their best interests, didn’t they know better, and all the rest, but there’s a bigger issue here; voter turnout. The figures I’ve seen indicate there was a 25% voter turnout in Tuesday’s election in the Bluegrass. Put another way, three out of four people eligible to vote didn’t even bother to show up. 25% is an extremely small—one might even argue miniscule—sampling of the electorate. Shrinking the numbers for the case of example, let’s say you belong to a constituency of exactly 100 people. 25% voter turnout means only 25 people would vote. Candidate A gets 13 of those votes, and Candidate B gets 12. The end result is Candidate A wins, even though he ultimately only got 13% of the entire potential vote. To me, that’s not real majority vote; that’s the vote of the few.

I have an idea that I know will never fly for many reasons, but maybe it should. Most professional and advocacy organizations I’ve belonged to have a quorum rule. In essence, if participation in a vote does not meet a certain percentage, there is no quorum and the results don’t count. Perhaps we as a nation should at least consider adopting a quorum rule, where if a turnout rate falls below a certain percentage (30%, for example), the results are thrown out and a revote is done. This would have the benefit of bolstering voter turnout, and maybe it would get more people interested and involved in the process. As I said, it’s a radical idea, and it won’t ever happen, but suppose it did? It’s not bad to dream, anyway.

Another confession: The results from Kentucky and elsewhere make it sorely tempting for me to just throw in the towel, fold up the tent, and find somewhere else to call home. But in the grand scheme of things that is really not a viable option. As hard as it is, and as depressing as it gets, the fight must continue. And that fight will begin in the action that I failed to complete yesterday: Showing up!

The other day I decided to put my money where my mouth was and actually give a bit of money to the Bernie Sanders campaign. When I talked about doing this on Facebook, I got a bit of push-back. Someone actually said they were surprised I was supporting a Socialist. It occurred to me it might be beneficial to actually give the reasons why I am, as the current saying goes, feeling the Bern.

First and foremost, I think I’m going to do away with the term Socialist. In Bernie Sanders’s case, it’s nothing more than a meaningless label. People have used the label to try and paint him as someone who would be right there with Stalin and Castro, and honestly the way the press works these days that notion will almost certainly gain traction, deserved or not. For the record, Bernie is a democratic socialist. If you look back in American history, you will read about a rather robust democratic Socialist movement active around the turn of the last century, particularly in the Midwest. These were not wild-eyed radicals bent on world domination and general suppression. It was a movement that attempted to make life better for those on the lower end of the prosperity spectrum. They championed the formation of strong labor unions, called for a living wage, and (to a certain extent, at least) strove to make life more bearable for those who, for whatever reason, could not work. This is a huge part of what Bernie stands for, and since I consider myself part of a social group that has traditionally been marginalized by society, how could I not throw in my lot with him? He speaks my language more fully and clearly than probably any politician in my adult lifetime. It’s very clear to me that the playing field needs at least a bit of leveling, and that’s what Bernie wants to do. He resonates with me and what I stand for more than anyone ever has for as long as I’ve paid attention, and that’s why I have actually put monetary skin in the game.

Even with all that, though, I am at heart a realist. Despite all the enthusiasm that Bernie has engendered in people like me, the chances of him actually making it to the White House are slim to none. Even if he secures the Democratic Party nomination, the powers that be on all sides will go into hyperdrive painting him as an evil threat to our way of life, or something. It has the potential to make what has happened to President Obama over the last eight years look like kid gloves treatment. That would have the almost certain effect of evaporating his support. I wish it wasn’t the case, but people really do seem fickle these days, and it seems way too easy to sway them. Critical thinking is a skill that appears to be in extreme steep decline. So, with all that in mind, would I support Hillary Clinton if she turns out to be the Democratic nominee? In a word, yes. I have serious questions about her ties to Wall Street and she is way too political for my liking, but in this scenario she’s head and shoulders over the alternative. But, ultimately, I hope I’m wrong and Bernie can travel the long and winding road without getting shoved into a ditch. America is in desperate need of political change, and whether you like him or not you can’t deny that Bernie Sanders offers that in spades. As for me, I will continue to proudly feel the Bern.

This is a somewhat reworked version of a comment I left on a friend’s Facebook post. In essence, this person was lamenting how tribal we have become in today’s society, and their contribution to it. I wish I could say I wasn’t part of the problem as well, but I am. I’ve written before about the serious fragmentation of our media. I’m old enough to remember the days when our choice for getting news was very limited. You had the three networks, newspapers, a few news magazines and journals, and that was pretty much it. Nowadays, though, there are different choices for basically any political leaning you may have, and you can feel free to completely ignore everything else. What this does, unfortunately, is cause righteous obtuseness in way too many. The art of compromise and civil discourse has been almost completely forgotten, because we are so wrapped up in the overpowering need to be right. Not only that, but we need to prove everyone else is wrong and, beyond that, beneath contempt because they’re wrong. One of the more comical byproducts of this is the passage into common use of the term Nazi. This term has become so overused that what it actually means is, it seems to me, in danger of being completely forgotten. But I digress. One of the main reasons the American system of government has worked so well for 200 plus years is the concept of compromise and give-and-take. This is another art form that is going the way of vinyl records and Betamax. We are all so entrenched in our various ideologies that not only can we not see the other person’s point of view, we see it as dangerous, treasonous, criminal, etc. Not much useful dialogue can result from this state of affairs. I’m beginning to wonder if the societal fragmentation has become so acute that we’ll never again be able to find our way back to any common ground. I’d like to be less pessimistic, but it isn’t easy. This society needs to relearn the art of listening, fast. Otherwise the near future could wind up being very bleak indeed.

I wrote this last year. It still rings very true.

This morning I read that the stock market has risen more during the Obama presidency than during any other. The piece I was reading went on to ask the question:
Does this make President Obama the worst Socialist ever? Considering how often our President is referred to as a radical Socialist Communist colonialist,
or something, it feels like a legitimate question. This further led me to reflect on the general concept of socialism, specifically people’s reactions
to it. Mostly, I hear socialism denigrated as right up there with full IRS audits and big zits predominantly placed in the middle of one’s face as outcomes
undesirable. But I have a question that might seem heretical to some, and possibly un-American to others: Is socialism really all that bad? As I understand
it, one of the main aims of socialism is to make sure everyone in society is taken care of. I have to ask, how is this a bad concept? Isn’t promoting the
general welfare right there in the preamble of the Constitution? Isn’t taking care of the least of us a Biblical concept? In fact, if you look at Acts
2:44-47 in the Bible, couldn’t that be considered socialistic? Really, at a basic level, who among us truly believes that anybody should be denied even
the basics of everyday life? Yet we keep having this societal argument about lazy moochers and “takers”. I’m very much in favor of individual charity,
but there needs to be something beyond that. There is absolutely no way that individual charities and churches can deal with the whole problem of poverty
themselves. This was starkly proven during the Depression, which is the whole reason why we have such things as Social Security, worker’s compensation,
and unemployment insurance today. And, as I said, isn’t promoting the general welfare right there in the Constitution? Wouldn’t that mean, then, that by
definition one of government’s functions is to make sure as few people fall through the cracks as possible? Otherwise, what does that phrase even mean?
The Second Amendment is parsed to death, over and over and over, and this phrase, which is just as much a part of the Constitution, is pretty much ignored.
And yet the blather about moochers and takers goes on. I acknowledge that I am coming at this from a different angle than many. Because of the nature of
my disability, I’m often put in the position to, in the words of a line from A Streetcar Named Desire, “rely on the kindness of strangers”. There is no
shame in needing help sometimes. In some way, we all do, whether we admit it or not. Nobody should ever feel like a lesser person if they have to take
advantage of certain government programs. Yet our society, thanks in large part to the rugged individualism narrative that has corroded the dialogue beyond
belief, are way too often looked down upon, derided, scorned. Nobody I know, or have ever known, at least to my knowledge, gets up in the morning and says
“gosh, what can I do today to become a greater drain on taxpayers?” I know such people probably exist, but I firmly believe they are the rare exception,
as opposed to the norm as portrayed in much of the media today. Some people I know work up to three jobs, sixteen to eighteen hours a day, to obtain even
the basics of life. This, to me, is not living, it’s surviving. All you’re doing is working, eating (probably not very well), and sleeping (again, probably
not very well). On the flip side, I know way too many people who aren’t working, not because they prefer to sit at home and draw a government check, but
because nobody will hire them. Some people have tried, quite literally, for years to get work, only to get constantly rebuffed. There is only so many times
one can bang their head against a concrete wall before one gets a headache and gives up. Yet the welfare stigma remains—not just remains, but also getting
stronger, more engrained into society. The direction things are going right now, quite frankly, terrifies me. Based on that framework, I ask the question
again: Is socialism really all that bad? From my perspective, I have to say no.

I’ve decided to dip into the way-back machine for this post. I wrote this in October of 2010, in the run-up to the ultimately disasterous midterm elections that year. Some of what I said here is now dated, but the general gist of what I said still holds true today. Here it is…

When I was a homeowner, I was compelled to belong to a homeowners association. The annual dues were absorbed into the mortgage. This irritated me no end.
Nobody asked me if I wanted to be part of the homeowners association. The meetings were normally scheduled weekday evenings, often before I was home from
work. Even when I could have gone, however, I chose not to. Why should I, after all I never asked to be a member in the first place. Then, one day, I received
a letter. It seems I somehow ran afoul of the association. I forget what the issue was, something about the front yard. Whatever the issue was, I began
to grumble about some arbitrary rule I was made to follow by this association, and then it dawned on me. I was a member. I had the chance to have a say
in policy (theoretically, anyway), and I chose not to. As a result, I had no right to grumble. To me, that is the case for anyone who chooses not to vote
in elections. It’s certainly your right to not participate, but if you ultimately feel dissatisfaction with the outcome you don’t have much room to complain
about things. So, educate yourself, and when Nov. 2 rolls around, vote. If you feel like we’re heading down the road to rack and ruin, vote for those who
you think will restore sanity. If you feel like we’re making positive progress, vote for those making that progress. Whatever the case, don’t sit it out.
Democracy works only when more people participate than not.

A poll was published recently that ranked President Obama as the worst president since World War II. Notwithstanding that this seems to me to be yet another example of people who blindly hate the president for no apparent reason other than the huge unstated one (see my previous entry), it’s not at all fair to judge a sitting president, no matter who they are or what you think of them, by overarching historical standards. Some time ago I read an assertion by a historian (unfortunately, I can’t remember the identity) who indicated that a President couldn’t really be judged from a historical perspective until 30 years after he left office. Based on this, the last President who can currently be judged historically is Jimmy Carter. To digress for a moment, I believe that Carter presents a very interesting dichotomy. It’s hard for me to believe that anyone, no matter what politics you might subscribe to, can argue that Jimmy Carter is anything but an upstanding, decent human being due nothing but undying respect. As a President, however, he has always been judged as, for the most part, a failure. It’s hard to believe that history going forward will change that very much. Between skyrocketing oil prices, overall inflation and the Iran hostage crisis, he was dealt probably the worst hand in Presidential history. So, it could be said that he was the best person to be President, but maybe one of the worst Presidents. Nixon, on the other hand, was, to say the least, not a great guy. The moniker Tricky Dick was very justifiably won. Yet there were accomplishments during his Presidency that, from a historical perspective, proved beneficial for the country. The bottom line is, I don’t think a critique like that could ever be done completely subjectively. Will Obama be treated well historically? Who knows? The jury’s really still out on Reagan, after all, despite the efforts of many to stack the deck in his favor. Once you set aside your personal feelings for Obama, or George W, or even Bill Clinton, for that matter, would it still be possible to categorize any of them as the worst Presidents at this point in time? I really don’t think so.

If there’s anything I’ve learned in the past six years, it’s that the pronouncements about this being a postracial society due to the election of an African-American president were, at the very least, too optimistic. In fact, I have seen more evidence of rampant racism in the past six years than I have in the first 43 years of my life. It is, of course, not called racism. It’s couched in other terms. It’s called stand your ground, defense against voter fraud, and other things, but in my mind it all amounts to the same thing. It does seem to me that there are many people today who just can’t come to grips with the fact that the president is, good grief, a black man! Horror of horrors how did this ever happen? What’s even more insidious is that many don’t even realize what they feel is racism. I know several people who say they can’t stand the president, but when I ask them why, I am either met by deafening silence, or a noncommittal hodgepodge of talking points. They just know, deep down, that he doesn’t deserve to be president. But, oh no, racism has nothing to do with it. Unfortunately, the idea of the inferiority of African-Americans—and other nonwhite races, for that matter—seems to be very deeply ingrained, like it’s part of the DNA. People can’t tell you why, it’s just the way things are. The fact that prejudices die hard is more than proven by the fact that The Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act were passed 50 years ago, and we are still arguing over both of them. In fact, there have been significant attempts to toll back many of the provisions of both laws—sadly, with the complicity of the Supreme Court. A plausible argument can be made that showing a valid ID is valid, but how exactly do such measures as cutting back on early voting days and deterring voter registration help anything? Those really do have at least the appearance of good old-fashioned voter suppression, Jim Crow style. And the beat goes on, and on. These prejudicial thought patterns will almost certainly be with us long after Barack Obama takes his place as just another name in the history books. No, this absolutely is not a postracial society. At the rate we’re going, I’m ashamed to say that it could very well never be one.