Saturday, August 3, 2019

The point is to not make him the point.

In his New York Times opinion column (The Who-Can-Beat Trump Test Leads to Kamala Harris, 8/2/19), Roger Cohen makes a fair case for Kamala Harris as the Democratic nominee for 2020. And in doing so, he also does a pretty good take-down on Trump and the current (and increasingly inaptly-named) "conservative" movement. But he also unintentionally provides a road map for how Trump could defeat Harris. Harris is a prosecutor. She's a fighter. An attack dog. She will go toe-to-toe with him. She will prosecute him. She will go after him.

And that's the problem: It's still all about him.

It does appear that Harris is the candidate that the Trump campaign fears the most. But I'm not certain how reassuring that is. Trump loves a foil. He needs a foil. Foils are his megaphones. And if he can goad Harris into a debate about his deficits and his failings, then he has once again achieved his goal.

It's still all about him.

The 2020 Democratic candidate needs to be someone who flicks aside such distractions and turns attention back to "Here's what we can do for American families." Someone who won't be baited into wasting their time defensively deflecting Trump's blows. Who treats Trump's tirades as nothing more inconvenient than a jet flying overhead in the middle of an outdoor commencement speech: Yelling at it has no effect, so you just wait for the interruption to die down.

We need a candidate who will not acknowledge Trump for anything other than the noisy, inanimate object that he is.

There are a number of candidates who might do that, including Buttigieg, Klobuchar, or even (ugh!) Gillibrand, De Blasio or Gabbard (assuming she's for real, which is a whole 'nother discussion). But I think the true scrapper in the pack is Elizabeth Warren. And by "scrapper," I don't mean only that she'd hold her own in a brawl with Trump. She would indeed do that, but unlike Harris, she appears to have learned that "brawling" with him is a losing battle, because Trump not only ignores the rules of the road, he does not even acknowledge the road's existence. Roads are confining, inconvenient things meant for sub-human "little people." Trump is an entitled tank, climbing over rocks, ridges and even children in his objective, which is to stay in the limelight. He is not at all concerned that his tweets and tirades have nothing to say to people worried about their health care, their kids' education, their aging parents, the potholes in their street, or the ancient bridge they cross every day to get to that job they'd quit if only they could find a better one. He has nothing to say to them because these problems are no more real to him than the meaning of the word "No." And since he has no grasp of the problems that most people face, let alone any solutions, he'd rather you not hear from someone who does. Distraction is his superpower.

On the other hand, Warren's performance in the debates shows her deftness at deflecting slings and arrows by pivoting back to her ideas. And she does this in a way that is accessible. She's a combination of policy wonk and poet, distilling complex plans into political Haiku, a talent she no doubt honed in her years as a teacher.

I'll vote for whichever of the 2020 Democratic candidates gets the nod. But I'm rooting for Warren. Because nothing gets under a bully's skin faster and deeper than being treated as irrelevant. And that's Warren's superpower.

Saturday, July 13, 2019

This is how it happens

Years from now, school children and historians will look back on this ghastly time, and wade through the multiple levels of corruption and treason by the Trump administration, and the compromising of an entire American political party and religious bodies, and ask "Why didn't they SEE it? Why didn't they STOP it? Why weren't people marching? Rushing the camps? Taking over the government buildings?"
And we will say that we did march. We did protest. We did write. We did call. And shake our fists. And scream. 

But we grew tired and hopeless when nothing changed. We grew frustrated when the people we put into positions to stop it dragged their feet. And we despaired to see that so many of our fellow citizens were all too willing to enable the overthrow of our democracy.


So we retreated to our privileged lives. After all, we were not the ones who were locked up. And we had jobs. We had soccer practice. We had bills to pay. Homework to finish. Children to raise.


And so it continued.

This is how it happens: Not a monster appearing suddenly, with yellow fangs and green scales, breathing fire and announcing its plans for destruction. It does not emerge in the midst of dystopia. No, such horror and destruction flower when people are too comfortable to risk their comfort. When people have the privilege of looking away.

That is why we need institutions in place to stop such things before we can even see them coming. The "bureaucracies." The FDIC, the safety nets, the free media.


But those things will only save us if we defend them.


Which is why the monster picks these things as the first to be vilified: They get in the way of tyrants.

x

Sunday, March 3, 2019

Slavery, capitalism, socialism and freedom

A video of Vice President Mike Pence declaring that "Freedom, not socialism, ended slavery" appeared in a Facebook friend's post recently. I did not watch the video. I'm trying to preserve as much of my sanity as possible. But it got me thinking about how the words slavery, capitalism, socialism, and freedom, are currently understood in our society. Or should I say "misunderstood." I would challenge Mr. Pence's assertion that "freedom" ended slavery. Freedom was the result of ending slavery, not the means for ending it.
But I would go further to point out that a civil war ended slavery. And the American Civil War was, by its very nature, a socialist endeavor: created (declared), financed, and run by the collective we call "government."
On the other hand, capitalism ("freedom" to the GOP) was the soil from which slavery sprang: profit as a primary motive, and cheap resources as a primary means. Capitalism is, by its nature, amoral (different from immoral). Unchecked capitalism will always lead to things like slavery and authoritarianism. In fact, our current capitalist economy depends on relative slavery, in the proliferation of sub-living wage jobs. And it was only recently that the US recognized slavery happening within its own territory of the Northern Mariana Islands. This was not just recently discovered, however. Do a search for "Tom DeLay Mariana Island sweatshop factory" to learn more. At a party with sweatshop factory owners there, Congressman DeLay declared "You represent everything that is good about what we are trying to do in America." Republican congressman, I should note, a member of the party of "freedom through capitalism" - which for me always begs the question of "Freedom for whom?"
Both capitalism and socialism are amoral - without any awareness of good or bad. They are systems in the same way that a shark is an "eating machine" (Jaws, 1975). They do what they do. And they each require vigilance, which means regulation and enforcement, to work for the good of society.
So, no, Mr. Pence. Capitalism is not the same as freedom. And neither capitalism nor freedom ended slavery in the US. Because it was a socialist effort that freed the Southern plantation slaves.  And because slavery, in one form or another, is with us still.

Saturday, January 21, 2017

This is my march



I’m tired of reading that people who are marching today probably don’t have jobs and are on welfare, probably didn’t even vote, and aren’t giving Trump a chance. 
I’m not marching today, but it is not because I disagree with the sentiment of my many friends who are. I’d be there if I could. I’m there in spirit. But of my friends who are marching today, I know this:
● all of them have jobs,
● all of them voted,
● all of them read newspapers,
● none of them are on welfare,
● I’m pretty sure none of them are smashing windows,
● and none of them are under the delusion that marching, even in the numbers we are seeing today, will reverse the outcome of the election, or unseat Trump as President.
They are marching because they are concerned, even afraid, and want to be heard.
They are marching because from what they have seen so far of Trump’s behavior and the people with whom he associates (including aids and Cabinet picks), under a Trump administration, they stand to lose a lot. Health care. Equality. Dignity. Consumer protection. Freedom of religion. Freedom of the press. Even the right to have their vote counted.
They are marching because they are concerned over what the ruling party has promised - PROMISED - to do to this country: destroy Social Security and Medicare (I was rather looking forward to retiring), voter suppression, more carbon in the air, selling of our national assets to private parties, reversing reproductive rights (no, I’m not even talking about abortion - birth control itself is under attack), bullying the press into submission.
Just to name a few.
So they are marching because they want to send a message that if Trump truly intends to be President of all the people, he needs to stop referring to his critics as “enemies.” He needs to stop taking victory laps and act like a public servant. He needs to grow a thicker hide and focus on the nation's concerns, rather than on reacting in denial and derogation to every unflattering remark.

And he needs to stop telling us that America isn’t great. Because it is.
So yes, we have no choice but to “give Trump a chance.” He’s the President. But people are marching today because Trump’s already shown his hand. He has bragged about grabbing women inappropriately. He has mocked the disadvantaged. He has publicly suggested that an unfriendly foreign power hack his political opponent. He has endorsed violence against those who disagree with him. He has ignored ethical standards that every other modern President has adhered to, both for himself and for the people in his administration. And, ironically, he made a name for himself by questioning the legitimacy of a sitting President.
All of this is of some concern to us.
I’d love to think that President Trump will grow into the role, and truly be someone who puts country above all else, above even winning. But leopards don’t usually change their spots. And this cat has a lot of spots.
So we are concerned.
And we march.

Sunday, November 13, 2016

America the Secular

The Sunday following Veteran's Day, before worship begins, we usually have all the veterans stand, and we applaud them for their service. We did this today. It was a suitable tribute. Later during the service, we pray for our leaders, that they be wise, and lead the country in ways that promote compassion, peace, and security for all within her embrace. That is proper.
But this morning, the Sunday after Veterans Day 2016, our opening hymn was “America the Beautiful.”
I. Just. Couldn't.
I stood, but I did not sing. Don't get me wrong. I consider myself patriotic. And “America the Beautiful” is a glorious song. I so wanted to sing it. It's one of the best songs ever. The poetry alone is an amazing, beautiful word painting: Amber waves of grain, purple mountains majesty, sea to shining sea. It tells of our history. It honors the sacrifices of our predecessors. And it cautions our nation to balance law and liberty. In addition to the message, it's a great melody for an aging soprano - high, but not too high. Uncomplicated. Familiar. I wish they'd sing it more at ballparks.
But not in church.
I can hear gasps all around as I write this. Why not sing it in church? A great Christian nation should acknowledge God's amazing gifts. Should be thankful for what God has bestowed upon us. Should sing praises to this great gift that God has given us.
Whoa. Hold the phone. That's it. Right there.
Never mind whether or not you think we are a Christian nation. That's a whole 'nother long and circular discussion, and many folks might be surprised to learn which side of that debate I come down on (and others might not).
And never mind the whole question of whether our history is 100% something to be proud of. Again, a subject so dense with potential that it generates its own gravitational field.
I really, really don't want to focus on any of that.
What bothered me this morning is that our opening hymn, our call to worship, did not worship God. It worshiped America the Beautiful. And to me, that is disturbing.
The song “America the Beautiful” is about America. More to the point, “America the Beautiful” is a song to America. Not to God, asking for his grace, or thanking Him for our bounteous land. Yes, it references God, but as a bystander. As if God is off in a distant corner, and we're saying to America “Gee, sister, sure would be awesome if God sheds some grace on thee for Christmas.”
So ok, it’s not a song to God, but clearly it’s about God, in that it mentions God, and praises one of God's blessings. I’ll give you that. But to me (and maybe I’ve been wrong all these years), that's not what church is for: to come together to talk about God, as if God wasn’t even in the room. Or to worship his blessings. We don't go to church to worship the great American Craftsman God gave us to live in. Or to sing praises to the meal we ate last night. Or even to worship the awesome parents, spouse, or children that God gave us. We don't worship God's gifts.
We worship the God who bestowed them upon us.
“America the Beautiful,” as much as I love it, praises America. That's maybe a fine thing to do. But not in church. Not in a service meant to praise God. Because among other things, it elevates the state to a place that should be preserved for God alone.
Also consider that there are people who come to church who may not agree with the sentiments of “America the Beautiful.” Who are visitors from another country, or who live in this country, and maybe even think it has a lot of potential, but who aren't all that enamored of the pilgrim's feet or the alabaster cities. And that is their right. Absolutely that is their right. The state does not get to dictate their feelings or opinion. And when it comes to feelings or opinions about the state, neither does the church.
People come to church to praise God. They come to a Lutheran church to praise God in a way that has been defined by the Lutheran church. It should be fairly predictable. If they have sought out a Lutheran worship service, then the hymns, the readings, the liturgy, should be pretty much in line with how they themselves feel about God. But they should not be expected to feel the same way about America as Katharine Lee Bates did. Again, don't get me wrong: Despite our many sins, I swell with pride at being an American. But I don't assume that everyone who comes to my church does. Or at least they shouldn't have to. Their sentiment about the state should not be an issue in a worship service. In the same way that my child should not have to say “Hail Mary, full of grace” at a public school basketball game (or risk feeling conspicuous by not saying it), neither should someone at a their church feel compelled to sing a secular song praising a secular thing that is not part of church doctrine. 
You may think I'm splitting hairs here. Maybe I am. But I was raised in a tradition that did not sanctify things. I'm so hard-line separation-of-church-and-state that I don't think an American flag belongs at the altar. I think Christians should lead by example, not by law. And I have a few problems with the federal tax code, while we're at it. That's not to invite discussion on those points so much as to let you know where I'm coming from.
When you look back at the history of the Lutheran Church, you would have to admit that mine is a very Lutheran perspective. In Luther's time, church and state were so intertwined that Luther's “heresy” put his freedom and his very life in peril. So this is not some new-fashioned wacko liberal nonconformist agnostic apostasy I'm spouting. It's me, as a Christian and a patriot, wanting as much protection for the House of God as I expect for my house on Main Street. It’s not just about protecting the state from the church. It's also about protecting the church from the state.
So if it happens again, I will once more stand and be respectful. But I will not sing. And I will probably mention this to the ministers - not in hysterical tears, accompanied by threats to leave, etc. There are bigger battles ahead. But I will mention it because I am a Christian, and a patriot, as much as I have heard lately that I cannot possibly be either of those things. But that is precisely the point, perhaps: I do not want to have either one of those qualities defined for me by the other.

Saturday, June 27, 2015

Dignity is the New Fairness


Ok, I’ve been busy.

Over the past handful of years, my writing skills have been funneled into pursuits other than blogging, such as professional reports, technical responses on forums, and still - yes, still - my decades-in-the-making, sci-fi-fantasy epic. So I’ve not been blogging much.

But yesterday, that button got pushed. You know that button. The one that makes you go “Whaaaaa? That can’t be right!” and after you read it for the fifth time, you boot up your laptop and righteously just go off. That’s what I did when I heard a portion of Justice Clarence Thomas’s dissenting opinion regarding Obergefell v. Hodges, the landmark US Supreme Court decision which has granted legal status to gay marriage throughout the nation.

It’s not just Thomas that has me going. There’s consternation aplenty to be found within the dissenting opinions of all four members of the SCOTUS anti-rainbow coalition. John Roberts, for example, insists that inter-state recognition of marriages “should rest with the people acting through their elected representatives.” I might find this quaint, were it not coming from the mouth of a 21st century Chief Justice. I mean, I’m sure he went to law school somewhere, so perhaps he knows more about such matters than I do, but haven’t we seen over time that “the people” don’t always have the best interest of everyone else in mind? We’ve left to “the people” such questions as whether or not a person can own another person. Or if it’s reasonable to lock workers on the tenth floor of a fire trap to ensure productivity. Or whether a woman should be allowed to sign contracts and have nice things like bank accounts and property. Unless she’s married, in which case her fully-enfranchised husband can cover those bases for her. Unless, of course, he’s a different color than she is, in which case he can’t be her husband. To extend Roberts’ premise, such issues were working out just fine, thankyouverymuch, when they were left to the collective wisdom of the local majority (including, I suppose, the question of whether or not that majority should include people with vaginas).

But the thing that brought me to my now-smoking keyboard is this particular harrumph from Justice Clarence Thomas:

When the Framers proclaimed in the Declaration of Independence that “all men are created equal” and “endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights,” they referred to a vision of mankind in which all humans are created in the image of God and therefore of inherent worth. That vision is the foundation upon which this Nation was built.

The corollary of that principle is that human dignity cannot be taken away by the government. Slaves did not lose their dignity (any more than they lost their humanity) because the government allowed them to be enslaved. Those held in internment camps did not lose their dignity because the government confined them. And those denied governmental benefits certainly do not lose their dignity because the government denies them those benefits. The government cannot bestow dignity, and it cannot take it away.

(Although most coverage of Thomas’s opinion does not include the earlier paragraph, I added it as context for Thomas’s reference to “that principle.” But I’ll set aside the whole discussion on the legitimacy of citing the Declaration of Independence in a dissent on a constitutional matter, or on how much Thomas misses his own point regarding the vision upon which our nation was founded. Except to say - WTF??)

To distill it down into its basic elements, then, Justice Thomas is saying that no matter how egregiously the government treats you, so long as you’re a sport about it, it’s all good. Seriously, just hold your head up, and don’t go making a federal case out of it, because - you know - dignity is the new fairness.

So yeah, lock me up in chains and ship me off like cargo, in my own filth and sickness, so you can sell me as property and use whips to compel me to work myself to death. In my heart, I know I’m human, whether you recognize that by law or not, so what’s all the fuss about?

And sure, round up my family, and put us into barbed-wire camps, and treat us like prisoners because we have those funny-shaped eyes, and when you let us go, remind us that our homes now belong to someone else. But you can’t take away my dignity, so no skin off my nose, right?

And while you’re at it, government, go ahead and keep me out of law school, and forbid me to sit for the Bar, and tell me I can’t marry a white woman, because you know what? I’ve still got that dignity around here somewhere. As long as I keep singing “No, no, they can’t take that away from me,” then all of those unpleasant things that are legal to do to me aren’t really all that appalling.

The fact that Obergefell v. Hodges was such a squeaker, and that we are still hearing refrains of “let the people decide about rights” from persons in such elevated positions, should tell us that we can’t put away our marching shoes just yet. Gay rights, women’s rights, civil rights of any kind, all remain subject to re-examination. So yes, we have cause to celebrate, but it’s not over. It’s never over.

In the meantime, in one final irony among so many, Justice Thomas seeks to console the Hodges of this land by reminding them of their own dignity:

[The court’s] rejection of laws preserving the traditional definition of marriage can have no effect on the dignity of the people who voted for them. Its invalidation of those laws can have no effect on the dignity of the people who continue to adhere to the traditional definition of marriage.

So in the end, it’s all good. Right, Clarence?

__________________________________________________


I must add:  I heartily recommend reading George Takei's submission to MSNBC on this topic. Mr. Takei has been married to his husband Brad Takei since 2008, which gives him an obvious interest in the cause of equal marriage rights, a cause for which he has fought many years. But when I read Justice Thomas's words "Those held in internment camps did not lose their dignity," I said to myself "I sure hope Uncle George weighs in on this!"

Yep, he did:

http://www.msnbc.com/msnbc/george-takei-clarence-thomas-denying-our-rights-denies-our-dignity?ts_pid=2

.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Not in my name!

As long as the justice system is run by politicians whose reelection depends upon a body count, we should not have the death penalty.

As long as standards such as "egregious" and "monster" are left up to humans to decide, we should not have the death penalty.

As long as people make judgments based upon the color of someone's skin, we should not have the death penalty.

As long as the system can be rigged, we should not have the death penalty.

As long as there is something to be gained by anyone involved, whether it is "closure" for the victims, fame for the prosecutor, ratings for the media, or power for the politicians, we should not have the death penalty. Some otherwise social-justice-oriented folks among us say that the death penalty is allowable, even worthwhile, so long as the standard for imposing it is "beyond reasonable doubt." But as long as the death penalty exists, there will always be someone who has a motivation to move that line of "reasonable doubt" one way or the other to suit their purposes. It appears that someone may have done exactly that in Troy Davis's case.

At the same time that Troy Davis was scheduled to be executed, the state of Texas proudly put down Lawrence Russell, a white supremacist who chained James Byrd, Jr., to the back of a truck and dragged him along the road until all that remained of Mr. Byrd was shredded meat. It was brutal. Inhuman. Insufferable. I do not want anyone who would do such a thing to live among the rest of us. But what I want is not the point. When dispensing justice, we cannot be driven by how pissed off we are. Otherwise, we would break an arm for a broken arm. We would rape to pay back for rape. We would torture as justice for torture. There are societies that do that. But we don’t. Why? Because, we say, we are better than that. But we do not appear to be better than this, do we?

I am not insensitive to Mark MacPhail’s family’s pain. But if executing a potentially innocent man will bring his family peace, then it comes at the expense of our own collective humanity, and that is asking too much. It is done in our name. But despite the bravado with which some cheer the dispensing of this ultimate "penalty," I wonder if, like jury duty, we handed over the switch, the trigger, the needle, the bullet, to those of us in whose name this is done, how many of us would actually follow through? Asking the prison officials to do it for us instead is a convenient form of cowardice that I want no part of.

Please do not do this “in my name.” It diminishes me. It diminishes us all.