Friendship

 Each day I resolve not to be abrasive. Then I see utterances from people I once knew to be kind, generous, educated, and thoughtful. Somewhere, something or someone flipped a switch and a horrible transmogrification took place. I Don’t know how to respond. Let me just say this.

If your cult has convinced you to hate Dr. Anthony Fauci and love Kyle Rittenhouse, your soul needs a greater level of forgiveness than I can provide.

If your cult teaches you that slavery was okay but committed love between two people of the same sex is not, your sense of morality needs a greater level of support than I can provide.

If your cult makes you believe that only white Americans deserve the right to vote, your sense of America needs a greater level of education that I can provide.

If your cult convinces you that women only have the rights conferred upon them by men, your understanding of democracy requires a new meaning of community than I can provide.

In the words of the immortal Woody Guthrie, “So long, it’s been good to know you.”

Feelings

 Today I awoke with the news pundits expressing the total annihilation of the political party that my family supported for, oh, two generations. The third one back was from Illinois, and the local wisdom back then was to support the political party in office, or likely to be in office, due to job patronage considerations. Politische Partei nicht Mann. Oh, and not all of my family. Some now embrace nihilism for odd reasons. Anyhow …

 I’m in a strained position. I still earn some money on small jobs for organizations I love and for work I enjoy. My continued success is important. It keeps me doing paying work in urban planning which I love and for which I get paid instead of doing farm work which I abhor and for which I don’t get paid. I need to understand all viewpoints.

 My first reaction on reading this morning’s news was to begin imagining how I would feel when I heard the boxcar’s scraping metal doors opening. and a voice yelling, “Raus raus und anstellen.” Oops, sorry, “Out, out and line up.”

 Then I started thinking. While the dreadful direction in which our country is headed primarily rests upon the shoulders of one political party, I’ve landed in “a plague on both your houses” paradigm. If our country doesn’t get back nearer the center, we are doomed.

 For the left, it prevailed somewhat in the last election. Despite the usage of the worst choice of a political slogan in my lifetime, i.e. “defund the police,” it managed victories. How many millions voted for the other party because of that one statement is beyond imagining. Sadly, they are keeping it up.

 Now, for a political minefield. Whether we “progressives” wish to admit it or not, such an issue as that involving transgender persons frightens some people. Wait wait. Educated people such as you and I understand that it is a biological phenomenon and should be treated as such. We reason that as taxpayers, do we prefer acceptance and understanding, or are we willing to face the costs of mental care? That was the choice upon which the U.S. Military based its decision. That decision finally came out well, by the way.

 On the other hand, we must try to understand that for some of our brothers and sisters, the prospect of having a young daughter enter a restroom where the sex of others within it is flexible is not a prospect easily accommodated from an emotional viewpoint for many. Cursing and reviling them for their feelings is not productive.

Now that I’ve read all the hate mail, one recurring theme is, “You think you are so [insert adjective of choice] smart, and you think you are never wrong.”

Allow me to disabuse you of that notion. Back when the long-time minority political party of our state became the majority party, they first elected some of what I considered the worst miscreants imaginable to office. My soothing thought was, “Once they are in power and realize the complexity and potential good of government, they will elect better people.”

There. I was dead-assed wrong. Enjoy your gloat.

 They were there, had we only looked: bigotry, prejudice, and racism, the monsters of our psyche, writhing and slobbering like a den of 1950s science fiction monsters.

 They were not dead, as we had hoped and dreamed. They were not even moribund. They were simply submerged, like Godzilla, or a giant spider, just waiting to be freed by a shock of super-seismic proportions. What would it take to release them upon an unsuspecting public?

 It took nothing more than the election of a president of the United States born of a white mother and African father, the very model of a modern African-American.

 That’s all it took. The “monsters from the id,” as they called them in the 1956 film, The Forbidden Planet, took control of the minds of otherwise decent people. Things changed overnight. Old friends began to greet you with, “How do you like our n****r president?” Hatemongers on the internet devised the acronym “SOS” to describe the elected leader of the United States of America. Photoshopped images of watermelon patches on the White House lawn appeared on social media. The man’s family members attracted descriptions as “gorillas” or worse. Sentiments and language that had been shoved to the bottom of our cultural sea and buried were fashionable again. Hate groups flourished and became more emboldened, as did hate media. A sense of shame settled over us.

 Campaigning against candidates of the Democratic Party in our state became simple. All one had to do was request it from East Coast PACs and they would deliver boatloads of brochures, simple ones with just a photo of their opponent facing a photo of President Obama. The stated message would be, “he/she is with him.” The hidden message would be “the n****rs are coming for your women and he/she is going to help them.”

 It worked like magic, even among citizens of our state who are alive today because of the Barack Obama’s efforts toward universal health care. The illogic of that could make a healthy person nauseated. Our state will suffer for decades.

 Now don’t get me wrong. I strongly support the rights of Americans to vote for the candidates of their choice. My only wish is that we would all vote for candidates on the basis of the principles of good government, as we see it, and not the principles of the KKK.

 Meanwhile, can’t we work toward eliminating the monster born of bigotry and racism? Unchallenged, it will destroy us as a unified nation as surely as a giant lizard could destroy a city. The Galilean’s admonition for us to “love one another” might be that best hope for us. As they used to say in the aforementioned films of the 1950s: “It just might work!”

 It becomes more obvious every day that such healing will not come from the highest offices of government. It must begin at the citizen level.

 I’ll try. That’s what I think on July 4, 2017.

Primal Fear

Fear is an odd thing. Webster defines it as “an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger.” The genetic condition of fear must have been helpful to our ancestors who lived on the Savanah alongside predatory creatures. I remember it from dark nights in a foreign land.

American neurologist and physiologist Walter Bradford Cannon added, in the early 1900s, a condition known as “flight or fight response.” It describes a response to an acute threat to survival that is marked by physical changes, including nervous and endocrine changes. It may prepare a human or an animal to react or to retreat.” This one I remember well from an encounter on a winter’s night with a stranger who stopped me on a city street and placed a hand inside his coat. To my relief he produced a note with an address, and asked directions.

The most fascinating member of the family of fears, to me, is called “primal fear.’ This is the highest level of fear that most people do not experience, usually related to the feeling of impending doom. Anyone raised in a rural protestant church knows this as evidenced by the lifelong and unshakeable terror that their precious body may burn in an everlasting fire for eternity upon their death. I personally consider this as a form of child abuse but will save that thought for another day.

Today, it is the “Gotterdammerung” facing the country I love and have tried to serve faithfully during my adult life that darkens my hope. I see it now as a great ship headed directly into an iceberg as friendly passengers dance around me. It is my tragic and primal fear that we may lose America as we know it in two more days.

How did this happen? Better minds than mine wrestle this question daily. Unbelievably to me, the country may re-elect a man whom I believe, based on my upbringing, education, experience, and reflection, to be the most evil and degenerate president in American history.

The question is not how nearly one-half of Americans support what may occur. Over half of that percentage contains the group of Americans, almost a reliable percentage, who believed Elvis was alive 20 years after his death and that professional wrestling is conducted under strict rules. This segment contains the ones who would be dead today if it were not for the Affordable Care Act pushed through by an African-American president. (Not the term they use.) This segment is largely immune to reason or factual data.

Of the remaining 20 percent of Americans are the “single-issue voters” who would vote for Charles Manson, brought from the dead, for president if he promised to make abortion illegal, allow citizens to use bazookas to settle arguments, or banished anyone to whom nature had provided a different genetic makeup. They may be educated but have used their education merely to sharpen their weapons of bigotry.

We can shave off another ten percent of those who believe that unlimited wealth and no restrictions placed on how to obtain it will produce a perfect society. This society would be, one must suppose, much like, the American South of the 1850s. Some use their education to create false doctrines supporting this goal.

Then there is a layer of supporters who somehow believe their profession is best protected by a liar and false prophet. Some are educated and some are not. All reject any internal logic that doesn’t support their need for self-preservation. They are loyal to a man who thinks loyalty is a one-way trait.

That leaves the remaining sliver of supporters who augment the primal fear that haunts my sole and interrupts my sleep. These include many old friends who are educated, some highly so. They don’t carry any apparent burdens that would tarnish their thoughts. In a crowd they would appear normal. Individually, they appear fully capable of critical thinking, until the subject of politics emerges. What logic have they neglected?

Some may have even read William Shirer’s masterpiece The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich.

Some, I know, have seen the film Schindler’s List.

A few may have read It Can’t Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis.

A few have attended the Holocaust Museum in our nation’s capitol.

Some attend church and worship the man who told us to love another and not to judge.

Some have read The Grapes of Wrath. I know this for they attended college.

Almost all know the words to This Land is Your Land.

In short, and in conclusion, these friends matured under the same conditions as I but have developed diametrically opposed beliefs as to what is right and what is wrong. I may be guilty of illogic. They might be.

That’s what scares the living hell out of me.

Fear

 These words stand before you written by a man who is far from perfect. On my decent side, I love reading, studying ideas, from science to history to woodworking. On the negative, I’m “not eaten up” as my Sainted Mother would say, with the desire to do manual labor. I’m prone to be mercurial at times. A close friend once said that I “don’t have 24-hour a day attitude about anything." I’m a bit selfish and known, I think, as a nice person except when I’m not.

 I do have a consistent attitude about some things. I eschew, for example, blind bigotry and prejudice aimed at those who don’t deserve it. This includes people of color, people whose genes have produced different sexual makeups, women in power, and immigrants fleeing death and persecution. I abhor violence toward others, crime, deceit, physical and mental abuse, disrespect for the physically challenged, gratuitous lying, the use of inherited wealth (really any wealth but particularly the “lucky sperm” kind) to mistreat or take advantage of others.

 I’m ambivalent about most religions but hostile to any that espouses hatred, violence, or bigotry. I’m very suspicious (a condition taught me by aforementioned Sainted Mother) of religious fanatics and hypocrites. I especially steer clear of those who use religion for financial or political reasons.

 I’ve paid taxes each year since 1961, served my country for four years, one in a war zone, and have managed to convince a remarkable woman to keep me for over 48 years. The only financial handouts I’ve received were via the G.I. Bill and my portion of stock values of companies that are heavily subsidized by local, state, and federal taxes, (which is almost all of them).

 A typical 2020 version of J. Alfred Prufrock you say? I’ll accept that. But just imagine, only imagine, the shock I’ve felt during the last four years as I’ve learned that close friends, some of whom I’ve used as role models, have succumbed to the trumpet call of a group ruled by a man whose every action stands in direct opposition to everything I love and respect, who preaches and supports all the elements of life and history that scare me into a primal fear and dread of living. Now, it seems

 Bad is good,

Good is bad,

Beauty is ugly,

Ugly is beautiful,

Facts are stupid things.

The U.S. Constitution sucks.

Greed is the highest order of things,

Altruism is for fools and liberal fantasizers,

Science is a foolish fantasy of progressives, and

The function of politics is to make your enemies weep.

 I weep, but not for myself. I’m old and everything I write is “from a warm room on a full stomach.”

 I weep for the grandchildren of my friends and pray, “to whatever gods may be," that they are never born poor or different.

The Great Hoisting

For years I’ve whistled by and haven’t stopped to consider the phrase “hoisted by one's own petard.” I knew it was from Shakespeare, Hamlet I thought. I somehow made the assumption that it was a bit naughty in origin, and maybe I didn’t want a complete examination. Then, for some reason, I got to thinking about the Baby Boomers. That led me finally to learn the meaning of the phrase, for I think it describes their current predicament.

Oh, and the meaning: The petard, it seems, has long since fallen out of use, but was a small engine of war used to blow breaches in gates or walls. They were originally metallic and bell-shaped but later cubical wooden boxes. They were full of gunpowder, i.e. bombs.

The phrase means to be blown up with your own bomb. How does it apply to a population cohort?

The Baby Boomers have always been a little quixotic. Statistically, they, as measurable cohort, supported the Vietnam War. Statistically, as a measurable cohort, they did not support participating in the Vietnam War. They are, somewhat unduly, credited with stopping the war. Actually, the Viet Cong and NVA had something to do with it. Trust me. In fact, the opinion of a whole slew of Baby Boomers concerning war seems to have solidified in favor of the darned things since Jan. 27, 1973.

Fast forward to the present. The cohort appears to have taken a hard course toward conservatism. Republicans they are to a large degree, as Yoda would say. Their attitude seems to be what we call the Clarence Thomas Syndrome: “I’ve got mine. Ya’ll bite me.”

Now comes the hoisting. Having helped elect Donald Trump get elected, and having watched their investments, to a significant degree donated by their parents, soar for ten years or so, the Baby Boomers leaned back from warm rooms on full stomachs, turned on the Fox show, and prepared for the comfortable descent into Valhalla. Young people were discounted as being stupid cell phone addicts. Progressives just wanted their hands on someone’s money to build bridges and sewer plants the “Boomers” no longer cared much about. Worse still, they wanted to hire teachers by raising taxes. Minorities should have never come to America in the first place. Science was as useless now as it was in high school. Life was good.

Then came Covid 19. It was a nuisance. It amounted to nothing but a hoax, their hero Sean Hannity told their other great hero. It would pass soon. Laissez les bons temps rouler. The virus will pass quickly. Prez said it would.

Well, lo and behold, it didn’t. Worse Sean is telling “The Prez” that he must now open the economy up, i.e. quit all this non-participation nonsense. Profits are falling and that is a real crisis. Let's all go out and party on.

Oh, there would be some problems. A lot of people would die in the process.

No problem. It would be the old folks. You know … Baby Boomers who didn’t have a safe place to hide or respirators to see them through. They’ve had their day in the sun. Now it’s time for their day in the barrel.

That’s what it means to hoist yourself by your own petard.

January 27, 1973? That’s when the military draft ended. You know. Baby Boomer Day.

On Kneeling …

Yesterday, I spent two hours with an AT&T tech, fixing an internet snafu at our Little Rock condo. On leaving, I discovered that he had served in the U.S. Army, with assignments in the Middle East, including Afghanistan. He didn’t learn his technical skills there. He served as a medic. My mind shot back to when I was waiting for the bus to take me to the air base at Da Nang to “leave country.”

Amidst the happy, talkative group waiting to go home, there was a young man in a wrinkled outfit with insignia stating that he was a Navy Corpsman. He didn’t talk, just stared through vacant eyes into space. I remember thinking how, after a year in a war zone, I couldn’t imagine what that man had experienced. That’s why I don’t respect people who swagger around with flag decals on their lapels and ask why I don’t wear one.

My oath of enlistment stated that I would “… support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I [would] bear true faith and allegiance to the same.” I’ve researched it numerous times, and I can’t find an exemption limiting that oath to people who look and believe like me.

After we boarded the plane, and it rose aboard the blue waters of the South China Sea, applause broke out. Among the celebrants was a sizable number of shipmates and comrades who, when arriving home would find themselves denied the opportunities and personal safety that I, a white man of Northern European descent, would enjoy. Some had fought their way through Hue, during the Tet Offensive. Some had defended Khe Sahn. Some had held dying friends in their arms. Some had served on riverboat patrols.

All had spent a year or more not knowing what breath they took might be their last.

Some had been called “boy” on the same day they had had suffered wounds on behalf of their country. Some would be stopped for “driving while black” on arrival in an ungrateful country. Some would be denied the opportunity to purchase a home, as I did, in a decent neighborhood. Some would be denied jobs because of the color of their skin.

Their oath of enlistment, which they had fulfilled with honor, was the same as mine.

I think about these things. In the famous line from the movie, they just wanted “their country to love them as much as they had loved it.”

 Kneel for the music, or stand for the music, it’s your right. I don’t give a damn one way or the other, and don’t expect me to. Flag decal or no, standing without having sacrificed will never make you as tall as a kneeling comrade who was shortchanged by the country he served.

Divide and Conquer

Sometimes Americans have a hard time understanding one another. I fear that social-media makes it worse and may lead to our downfall if we don't change our ways.

For example, I wish those among us who are liberal and progressive in their thinking (more in tune with the man from Galilee than with Ayn Rand, it is true), would consider the following.

There are brothers and sisters among us who, if asked, would say, "I've always tried to do right as a citizen of this great country. I obeyed my parents and showed appreciation for having been provided a stable home environment. I never embarrassed anyone. I may have bitched, but I've always paid my taxes in full and on time.

"I obtained an education. I served in the armed forces. I went to work and have remained employed for my entire adult life. I've never been arrested and am considered a solid member of the community. I've never looted, stole, robbed, or caused massive traffic jams while I protested what I perceived as injustice, thus alienating the guilty and innocent alike.

"I only blame others for my troubles when I perceive that they are taking my taxes in order to live large, free of work and worry at my expense.

"Now, I'm considered a deplorable citizen of some in our country because I have little patience with those I see who haven't done right and who depend, it appears to me, on governmental largess as opposed to individual initiative and hard work. You may say that my attitude enables the unworthy to gain elected office. I say I am looking out for my own."

Yes, one might observe a lack of thoughtful contemplation that would lead to one's understanding that not all people are equally enabled. These include children fathered by men who face little consequences in generating children with no intention of providing their care, and who face little stricture for such neglect within a male-dominated hegemony.

It includes the women, some who are ill-prepared for the trials, who must care for the abandoned children while struggling for a success that came so easily for me, a white male of European ancestry.

It includes the babies bred and fed into a society that increasingly cares little for their fate. I think of the secretary with whom I worked once whose husband kicked her and their two-year-old child into the street one evening so he could bring his new girlfriend over. A male judge awarded her a  child-support payment that was $12 less than the monthly cost of a day-care center.

The ex-husband's new girlfriend was from a rich family that owned stables. After "visitation weekends" the child would return home all aglow, asking his mother why they couldn't buy a horse.

It includes my brothers and sisters who served in the same war I, but weren't allow to return, marry, find a good job, and buy a home in a stable neighborhood, as was I.

Our differences lie not in morality, it seems to me, but in levels of understanding and empathy. The demands required for a successful life don't always allow time for reflection upon the conditions of others. So we misunderstand one another, blame one another, and avoid one another, except through the anonymity of Facebook or Twitter.

Unfortunately, there are politicians who eschew such misunderstanding, preferring to utilize our mutual disaffection for their evil purposes. Social media is proving to be their most effective tool in modern times. As they attract moderates such as the one quoted above, they secretly muster in the worst dredges of society, forming a coalition that appears more and more to be unstoppable. Fox News, for reasons known only to its owners, joyfully promotes distrust and deceit.

Deceitful men like Franklin Graham use perverted religious thought to separate us into groups who would despise one another for no reason whatsoever.

Divide and conquer has been a strategy for destruction since we left the savanna. It's best antidote is to, at the risk of sounding maudlin, unite, respect, and love.

May we all hope for better understanding.