IT. MUST. END. ON. NOVEMBER. 3RD.

In Trumpworld, it seems, there is no bottom.

On a day when a national hero and treasure named John Lewis is laid to rest, an occasion for which every OTHER living former U.S. President is present, either in person or, in the case of Jimmy Carter, in writing, Donald Trump floats the idea of doing something we have never done, not even during the Civil War:  postponing a national election.

Postponing it until when?  Until Putin can find a time to airlift you from the White House and slip you off to enjoy lifetime immunity "for services rendered" in your own personal dacha?

Hell, no.  Hell, never.

Especially not when your Ambassador to the Netherlands is waxing poetic on Twitter about the fates of Nazi soldiers.  By the way, Donald, you'd better get used to hearing about The Hauge:  if most of us have our way, you'll be spending an awful lot of time there.  And what is it about Republican Presidents and Nazi cemeteries, anyway?

And the reaction to this idea from your fellow Republicans in Congress?  To run away from it, or in some of the most heinous cases, offer "no comment."  On the day our economy truly falls off the cliff, they're too busy focusing on the number one obsession not of the American people, but of their campaign donors:  liability immunity from pandemic litigation.

I join with the Never-Trump Republicans in offering four simple words.

Throw.  Them.  All.  Out.  On November 3rd, and not a day later.

And, to leave you for the month of July with some sweeter thoughts, I'll let Congressman Lewis have the last word, by way of the New York Times.

G-d bless us all.  G-d save our nation.

Politics Is Generational, Or, A Tale Of Two Representatives

And, to continue with the Dickensian allusion in the title, I believe that, at least when it comes to the composition of the House of Representatives, it actually is the best of times and the worst of times.  Here's why I feel that way.

I have, for a long time, felt that all politics are not merely local, but generational as well.  Each generation comes of age looking at the world and deciding, correctly, that there is plenty of room for improvement, and they set about doing so in whatever ways are open to them.  Typically, those ways are indeed local; who doesn't know by now, after all, that Barack Obama started out as a community organizer?  It is, to borrow a phrase, by thinking globally and acting locally that we start to think about what problems in the world bother us the most, and start talking to those around us about how to go about solving them.  We organize.  We raise money.  We march.  We speak out publicly, in person and in print.  We network, using our contacts to reach those in both financial and political power to press our demands, and (if we're at least a little bit clever) make it clear that our demands are not necessarily inconsistent with theirs.

In short, we understand, and hope that the proverbial powers-that-be can be made to understand, that life is a kind of baton race, and the two most essential skills in that race are (a) taking the baton from the previous generation, and (b) ensuring that, when the time comes, it's handed off to the next generation, to build upon what has been given to them.

The transition from one generation to the next is not something that happens in a single moment.  One can see various signs of it happening over a long period of time, and yet it is not always obvious as to what the moment of transition actually is.  For a little over a decade now, pollsters and other statisticians have been telling us that millennials have begun to supplant Boomers (my cohort) in the center of American cultural life, and their entry into the political realm has reached the point of occupying political offices.

I think, however, that the past week could be said to be perhaps the moment.  First, with sorrow and deep respect, an acknowledgement of the worst of times.

G-d saw fit to take John Lewis home this week.  G-d knows that Congressman Lewis has earned the rest.  Much has been said about his central role in the American civil rights movement, especially his participation as a speaker at the March on Washington, and a leader in the crossing of the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma.  I will not take up space here to recount what has been more than adequately recounted elsewhere about the details of his remarkable life.  I will, however, make one point about him relevant to what I've discussed so far, and that illustrates at the same time how special he was. 

John Lewis was all about handing off the baton to the next generation.  He understood that the cause for which he fought his entire life would not be won in a single lifetime.  He understood that the lessons he learned and the example would be set must be shared and continued by those who would come after him.  He grew old, but he did not age; he had much to look back on, but he continued to look forward.  And those are precisely the reasons why he was willing to do something that not many senior citizens would do:  namely, this.  His courage, about which much has been said, walked hand-in-hand, on the mall in Washington, across the Edmund Pettus Bridge, and everywhere else in his life, with humility and hope.

At a time in our history when, perhaps to an unprecedented degree, we as a people are ready to confront the structural racism of our society and not merely make amends, but long-overdue changes as well, it seems almost unconscionable to lose him, on top of the earlier loss of Elijah Cummings.  At a time in our history when the American people are at war (no softer term will suffice) with an Administration that wears its naked bigotry with the shamelessness of a pole dancer, we have been robbed of precisely the leadership we need to capitalize on this moment and make the most of it.

It's enough to make anyone search the heavens and scream "Why now, Lord?"

And I think the answer is as simple as this:  because we're ready to move forward without them.

And that, in turn, allows me to move on to a discussion of the best of times.  Which, perhaps unsurprisingly, involves Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

I've followed national politics for more than 50 years, and I have never seen a first-year member of the House live rent-free in so many Republicans heads as AOC has.  Some would probably ascribe that to her allegedly "radical" politics--which, in fact, as demonstrated by poll results, aren't really as "radical" as one might think, unless one only thinks about one's capital gains.  Some, inclined to a more sinister (or, arguably, more realistic) perspective on what motivates people, would say that it continues the march of people of color into dominance of American life.  AOC has even been told by our "President" to go back to where she came from, even though both of them come from New York.  And I'll concede that both of those things are part of the perpetual hatred of her.

But, when you overtake even Nancy Pelosi as a boogeywoman for Republican fundraising purposes, I submit that there's more going on here than mere partisanship or bigotry.  There's something else about AOC that drives the GOP mad.  And it's this.

For a first-year member, AOC is simply extraordinarily good at doing her job.  In the parlance of contemporary youth, AOC is simply boss.  Take, for example, her ability to take apart witnesses in committee hearings.  Don't believe me; take a look here.

Far better:  take a look here.  Having suffered a feeble, sophomoric, ultimately obscene attempt by a pitiful Republican representative to gain media space at the expense of her character, AOC says everything that needed to be said to send the representative in question and his comments packing.  She does much more here than speak like an adult; she speaks like someone who is already a leader.  She takes the juvenile attempt to intimidate her and turns it into a defense of an entire generation's right to self-respect.

I said this on Twitter this past week, and I'll say it again.  You can mark my words:  unless she decides to take off for a gig in another area, AOC will one day be Speaker of the House.  And we'll all be the luckier for it.

Perhaps that's why I think G-d was ready to take Lewis, as well as Cummings.  They've handed off the baton to the next generation.  And AOC is showing that the next generation is ready to make the most of it.

I wish her well, and all of her generational colleagues.  I worry about the extent to which Boomers, now the beneficiaries of the greatest intergenerational transfer of wealth in history (full disclosure:  that includes me) have largely formed a generation of lotus-eaters, reaping without sowing, consuming without building, swallowing everything whole and leaving nothing for those who come after us.

I hope and pray that we can, at this late stage of the game, find our inner relay-runner as a generation, and do the best we can to pass the baton.

Republicans: The Viciously Stupid And The Venemous Sell-Outs

I'm a big believer in not tempting fate, so I'm going to preface my next statement by knocking on would and giving a hearty pu!  pu!  pu!  to the Evil Eye.  But, with the advent of the second half of an election year, we are now safely at the point where we can start to look at meaningful polls of the national political mood.  And, cautiously, mindful of the lessons from 2016, I'm willing to say that the lion's share of what's available is good news for Joe Biden, the Democratic Party, and their supporters around the country.  Without losing sight of either the need for caution or the lessons of four years ago, it's therefore worth taking a little time and effort to wrestle with an essential question:

What next?

I'm not referring to the eternal question faced by all Democratic Administrations and Congress:  how far to the left should they go?  Curiously, that might be less of a problem in 2021 and beyond than at any previous time within my lifetime.  That's largely attributable to the universal loathing among party elected officials and their supporters for all things Trump, so it may not be all that curious.

But it overlooks an important point:  even if this fall's election produces a Democratic blowout that make 1936 and 1964 seem pitiful by comparison, it isn't going to change a fact that would be dangerous to forget.

The other side isn't going away.

If G-d is good to the Democrats, and therefore to the nation, it is not enough to be unified on what we as members of a progressive party want to accomplish once we control the levers of power again.  It is absolutely essential to remember that nothing may be accomplished unless we are prepared to battle and defeat the two components of the modern conservative movement:

The viciously stupid, and the venomous sell-outs.  By which I mean, the Republican base, and the politicians they choose to trust.  No matter what happens this fall, they're not going anywhere.  And, if/once they've been disempowered, the last thing on their minds will be working with a new government to turn the country around and move it forward.

Let's take a few moments to look at their most recent activities, so that we don't lose sight of what we're up against.  We'll start with the sell-outs.

They've sold out all of us in numerous ways, but mainly by selling themselves to Trump, whose need to be worshiped at the expense of everything else has poisoned every branch of our government with corruption that will take years, at the very least, to clean out.

This week, we had a spectacular example from the Supreme Court, which neatly reaffirmed the President's duties to turn over evidence, but managed to do so in a way that protects him and other Republicans from any electoral consequences this year.  And his hand-picked Associate Justices, who are not under Court rules required to recuse themselves, naturally did not do so, although they did join the majority in ruling against Trump's claims to immunity from congressional subpoena power.

As a reminder, in case it's needed, this is on the heels of Mitch McCONnell and Senate Republicans running a protection racket for Trump at his impeachment trial, as well as a similar racket for Capitol statutes of traitors.  And House Republicans lined up behind an Attorney General who sees himself as the President's lawyer, and not the nation's lawyer.

So, there aren't sufficient congressional or judicial checks of an Administration whose sins begin with its role as a foreign agent, one that can't even stand up for our men and women in uniform when bounties are placed on their heads.  In fact, the Senate supports Trump in this role, by working to remove the ban on foreign aid in our elections, and openly defending his unwillingness to confront his principal with regard to the bounties.

While Trump has led the way in poisoning our system of government, the way for him was in fact paved for him by establishment Republicans, then and now.  Those establishment figures can whine all they want about they've someone been forced into this every step of the way, but the truth of the matter is that their own lust for maintaining power guided every one of those steps.

And, as a result, we have a crime syndicate instead of a government, one that has no mercy even for children, nor any regard for those who have served our country loyally and with distinction.  When loyalty and competence get in the syndicate's way, they do what they always do:  resort to threats.  And, instead, reward those who break the law on their behalf.

So much for the sell-outs.  Now for the stupid.

Police officers nakedly proud of their bigotry, and unembarrassed in the face of massive public condemnation to continue their brutal behavior.

Evangelical churches that exalt conservativism over Christianity, and turn their children into living sacrifices on the altar of their idolatry.

A ludicrous unwillingness to respect basic science in everyday settings in the simplest possible ways, or even show tolerance to people who are just going about their lives.  Social media is rife with examples of this.  I will spare you a comprehensive catalogue of links, in no small part because I'm sure that each of you has your own, but I will share a few that really jumped out at me:  here, here, and especially here, with the latter link vividly illustrating the extent to which the Trump era has freed America's bigots to fly their freak flag under any and all circumstances.  It seems to have reached a point at which to be a Trump follower is to literally have a death wish without regard to the impact of that wish on others (an embarrassing example from my home state of Maryland).  Perhaps it has gone past the point of recklessness with regard to the safety of others.

One is forced to wonder how they would feel if they knew that the same President who's telling them that they don't need to worry about the pandemic is going to every possible length to personally protect himself--and only himself--from the virus at its heart.  Or that the money that is supposed to take care of working Americans is going to Republican supporters who advocate against taking money from Washington.  Or that the same Republicans pushing children back into schools that may or may not be safe aren't planning to take a chance on the medical safety of their party's national convention?

Between the corruption of Republican officer holders, and the ignorance of the people who support them, it has become painfully clear what Republicans have always stood for, beyond the empty rhetoric about limited government, personal responsibility, and traditional values.  Power.  For themselves.  And no one else.  If the current crisis has done nothing else, it has exposed that reality for all time.

This is not only why those in a Biden Administration should not try to wish the Trump era away if/when it takes power.  Indeed, it will not even have doing so as a true choice.  They will still be surrounded by the stupid and the sell-outs.  And they will need the clarity of vision, the rhetoric and other tools and, above all, the sheer gumption required to fight them, every step of the way.

Reframing The Past: How Far Should We Go?

It doesn't bring back the dead, and it's otherwise grossly insufficient comfort for their survivors.  But it is one of many, many steps that we, as a people and a nation, need to take in order to right centuries of wrongs to people of color, including not only indigenous peoples, but those from other continents that we systematically enslaved.

I'm talking about the removal of public monuments to Confederate leaders, and to others who participated in the slave trade, as well as the removal of other cultural artifacts that are inherently offensive to peoples of color.  The latter encompasses a range of items, from the use of "blackface" in films and television programs, to the offensive depictions of slaves in entertainment and advertising, to the use of derogatory names for certain ethnicities as nicknames for sports teams.  In many cases, making the changes we need to make means disrupting memories, and personal attachments, that white people have spent decades and even centuries forming.  That has often been used as an excuse for not doing the right thing.  That should never have been the case, and it can no longer be allowed to stand.

Inevitably, this brings up a question:  How far should we go?  Well, the obvious answer, and fundamentally the correct one, is as far as necessary.  But that inevitably leads to a related question:  exactly how far is that?

I think that the answer to that question is as varied as the specific area of our culture that we're talking about.

Monuments, frankly, are easy calls.  And, in saying that, I want to emphasize two things.  First, I think that this should be done by peaceful, lawful means.  Those who are advocating an end to symbols of hatred do themselves, and the rest of us, no favors when they resort to tactics outside of the boundaries of the law to advance their goals.  There's reason enough for rage when it comes to the monuments, especially given their role in the promotion of Jim Crow laws.  Using violence to remove them undermines the respect for American values that motivate the movement to remove them in the first instance.  It animates the protests with rage rather than reason, and ultimately leads to such completely counter-productive actions like tearing down the statue of Ulysses S. Grant.  Yes, Grant owned one slave, which he inherited and promptly freed.  He also was the general without whom there would have been no victory over the South, and no emancipation of the slaves.

But otherwise?  Yes, every one of them should come down.  Not only those that honor members of the Confederacy, but any that honor slave owners in any way.  Including Presidents.  Yes, I'm very much on the same page with Charles M. Blow on this subject.  If that means renaming the Washington Monument and Jefferson Memorial in D.C., so be it.  In the case of the latter, perhaps it would be enough to replace the statue of Jefferson with one of Sally Hemmings, so that posterity would have a very graphic contrast between Jefferson's words as inscribed on the walls of the memorial, and his deeds in connection with his slaves.

Team nicknames?  An even easier call.  In heaven's name, what could possibly be the justification for naming a sports team, something that's meant to bring people together for the sake of entertainment, with a word or phrase that commonly functions as an insult to a large portion of the people you're trying to bring together?  This is a battle that's been fought for decades, with very limited results at best.  Two of the most notable fronts in those battles involve the Washington NFL franchise, and the Cleveland MLB franchise.  They have also been the most entractable fronts, especially in the case of the football team.  And yet, perhaps one significant measure of the mood in the post-George Floyd world is that progress is being made on both of them.  It's early yet, and its hard to have a sense of how far this may go  But I have a strong feeling that it will go the proverbial distance, if for no other reason than the fact that the process is now being driven from below, and not above.

Advertising and marketing?  Easier still.  Who really wants to buy pancakes and maple syrup that are being sold with the name and the face of a fictional plantation worker who, by design, is meant to make white people feel superior?  For that matter, who wants to buy rice marketed in an essentially similar way?  If the loss of those images offends your sense of nostalgia, think of how many decades those images have been giving offense to African-Americans for the sake of profit.

"Blackface," and other offensive characterizations in fiction?  This is where the sledding gets a little bit rougher in deciding how to proceed. A bit of full disclosure is required at this point:  I own copies of a series of children's books from the early twentieth century that employ racial caricatures of blacks and Jews, and am wrestling with what to do with them.  I no longer want to keep them, in any case, but am conflicted about how to dispose of them.  To give them away--which I could easily do--would effectively pass along the racism embedded in the books to another generation.  To throw them out--which I could also easily do--feels like the ratification of a practice that could be used, as the Nazis used it, as part of a larger war upon culture itself.

I confess that, at this point, I am not sure how to resolve my personal dilemma, but thinking about it has given me some ideas on how to proceed.  Where the content in question can be removed from the work while preserving the rest of it (as in the case of "30 Rock"), that clearly is the way to go.  Where, as in the case of a film like "Gone With The Wind," the racism is so completely embedded in the work as to essentially be part of its point, exhibition has to be combined with some method of education that effectively counter-programs against the dominant message.

How do you do that?  I'm not honestly sure.  Of this much I am certain:  to ban or destroy all copies of "Gone With The Wind," given the realities of human nature, would have the effect of creating a large and potentially ravenous market not only for the work itself, but perhaps for its message as well.  It's a challenge.  But the twin demands of free speech and racial equality demand that all of us step up and find a way to meet it.

In any case, I repeat:  how far should we go?  And, again, I answer:  as far as necessary.  It's a difficult job, and it's not going to be completed overnight, in any case.  But that, especially weighing the magnitude of the harm that has already been done, is all the more reason why we should get started on it.

And, in the wake of Trump's rancid Mount Rushmore speech this past Friday night, that's the sort of Independence Day sentiment we really need.  Happy 4th, everyone, and make sure that you want the film version of "1776" this weekend!