the making of the enemy

“More to the point, the fact that so many potential candidates are on Fox – and that Fox is setting rules as to how long you can stick around before being kicked off if you’re not going to say one way or the other whether you’re running – is proof, if any more were necessary, that the actual GOP machinery is far less important than Fox News in the strategic operation of the Republican Party. Fox News sets the priorities, employs the players, pumps the memes into public circulation, and apparently now decides the timetable for declaring when/if you’re going to run for office. It’s not unreasonable to speculate that the two major parties at present are the Democrats and Fox, with “Republicans” as merely a faction of the Fox Party.

Which is an extraordinarily unhealthy thing, for one very obvious reason: the needs of a for-profit broadcaster are not the needs of a political party in the electorate – or in governance. Which is why we get what we have. No sane governing party would have blown the first couple of months in office on assorted culture-war issues. Hell, no sane governor would have opened his career by taking an enormous deuce on some of his key supporters for the sake of ideological purity – yet Walker up in Wisconsin has managed to make enemies of the teachers, the firemen, the police AND the Green Bay Packers. That’s bad arithmetic.

But the Fox Party isn’t about governance. It’s about maintaining the special world in which the viewers of Fox are simultaneously the martyred minority holding out against the forces of evil and the righteous majority who represent Real America. It’s about making sure that people tune in every day and every night to be told how right they are and how scary the rest of the world is. It’s about keeping the team fired up and racking up wins.”

 

March 4, 2011

 

 

“In so many ways, it goes back to W.J. Cash, as it always does, and his characterization of the essential Southern quality: “that no man living could cross him and get away with it.”  I don’t have to go along to get along. I don’t have to listen to some pointy-headed bureaucrat. I don’t have to stand behind the yellow line. I’ll just roll through that stop sign. I’ll put my cigarette out when I feel like it.

It’s not just Southern anymore. It’s not even just gun-suckers anymore.  Call it fascism, call it socialism, call it political correctness, or just call it fucking manners if you like.  But until our concept of citizenship in a polite society rises above the level of a sugar-shocked 8 year old in the back seat on a road trip, don’t expect a lot of progress on things like assholes meandering their guns through the grocery.”

 

Jan 29, 2013

 

 

“The enemy, as was said so many years ago, isn’t conservatism or liberalism. The enemy is bullshit. Bullshit too plentiful and overwhelming to refute. Bullshit that wins out on volume because it’s too much to beat down every single individual packet of bullshit. The bullshit will always get through, and people who don’t know better – or won’t know better – will fall before it.

Actually, there is coherence and cohesion to the modern GOP belief system: it’s called bullying, and it’s how “Blue Lives Matter” can coexist with the open carry of firearms and how the admiration for a Russian totalitarian can launder the exposure of classified information. The Trumpets who are now trying to read California out of the Union as somehow not really America have it all wrong. Silicon Valley is full of natural Trumpists: people who aren’t aware there are other people who aren’t like them, who are the embodiment of I GOT MINE FUCK YOU, who don’t care that we live in a society. That should have been warning enough for anyone that this was possible. As Uber, so Trump: do what you like and the facts and the law be damned, because your sycophants and worshippers will laud you for it.

And there are plenty of those. The GOP has spent the last 25 years powered by weaponized ignorance fueled with bullshit. It started in the Clinton years with exaggerations, misrepresentations, things that could be explained but if you’re explaining you’re losing. Then it got progressively worse, with lies about things that could be disproved but were complicated to demonstrate. And the bar just kept getting lower and lower until 2016, when the GOP lied constantly about things that could be instantly and trivially disproven – knowing that their base would reject the proof. And because our system can’t cope with shamelessness, we got burned. Badly. The problem is, if you can’t have truth, you can’t have a society. We have to be able to interact truthfully. If we can’t, we don’t have a society.”

 

Dec. 19, 2016

 

 

“Let’s not forget that the famous “we create our own reality” interview was in October 2004, before Dubya was elected the second time. In fact, let’s have the block quote, which is generally understood to have come from Karl Rove himself:

The aide said that guys like me were “in what we call the reality-based community,” which he defined as people who “believe that solutions emerge from your judicious study of discernible reality.” … “That’s not the way the world really works anymore,” he continued. “We’re an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you’re studying that reality—judiciously, as you will—we’ll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that’s how things will sort out. We’re history’s actors…and you, all of you, will be left to just study what we do.”

Basically that’s taking a shit on the entire concept of empirical fact. That’s pissing directly in the face of the Enlightenment. That’s an argument that says we can believe whatever we want and you can’t stop us. It’s the functioning basis of Fox News, of Glenn Beck and Alex Jones, of five straight GOP Presidential campaigns. It’s not a Trump phenomenon, it’s not even Tea Party. It is what the Republican Party has stood for now for over a decade: who you gonna believe, me or your lying eyes?

This is why there has to be a reckoning. This is why Obama was wrong to try to work with the GOP, to try his whole “come let us reason together” shtick, to desperately try to negotiate with the other side. You don’t negotiate with a five year old having a tantrum. You don’t negotiate with a lunatic screaming on a street corner. You act quickly and decisively to put them out of harm’s way – their own and others – and carry on having an adult society while doing what you can to see that they get the help they need.”

 

April 25, 2017

 

 

“Consider: 75% of the Republicans in the lower body have only been there since the 2010 elections or later. Their entire Congressional career has not only been post-Fox, but post-Tea Party. They have never passed a budget in regular order, never had to confront the world outside the axis of Breitbart. They’ve been part of two government shutdowns and the unprecedented near-default of sovereign debt. They’ve voted over fifty times to repeal Obamacare. Their entire MO is tribal loyalty and their entire range of issues is Benghazi-birth certificate-EMAILS, and they’ve never had to actually govern. And now they are the frontline troops for an accidental amateur President. When Trump says he could shoot someone on Fifth Avenue and his followers would cheer? The ones he means are the ones in the Capitol, because those are the only ones he needs. And they don’t know how to do anything but moo for their side.”

May 12, 2017

 

 

“But here’s the thing: there is no reckoning. Nothing happened to the GOP after they went Party Of No on Clinton, or weaponized impeachment to try to undo the 1996 results. Nothing happened to the Electoral College when Al Gore got screwed under shaky circumstances. Nothing happened when the GOP turned the filibuster into a daily process and snowed the catamites of the media into normalizing the idea that “the Senate needs 60 votes.” Nothing happened when the Republican Party nailed its colors to Donald Fucking Trump. And right now, despite all the shit hitting the fan, despite a partisan firing of the FBI director and blood-curdling breaches of national security and patently unconstitutional actions, nothing suggests that the GOP will bend or buckle as long as they think having this fatuous publicity whore in the Oval Office can still deliver them tax cuts and Supreme Court seats.

There are two sides sitting at the gaming table in America. One is trying to win the game and the other is trying to burn the house down so they can run off with the silverware. This is patently unsustainable. It’s the dog humping your leg: it’s in his nature and you can’t blame him for it, but eventually, you have to cut his balls off. And that’s exactly what has to happen to the Republican Party, because as long as this version of the GOP can continue to operate, we cannot function as a country. The last time we had this problem, the Democrats chose to cast off the South and stake their future on the old children’s hymn: “red and yellow black and white, they are precious in His sight.” And George Wallace, Kevin Philips and Richard Nixon, Lee Atwater and George Bush were all ready and waiting to scoop up those who replied “no they’re not.” And then the GOP made them the base of the party in 1994 and it’s literally been downhill ever since. From January 1995, the opening of the 104th Congress, you can date the shutdowns, the impeachments, the near-defaults, the political witch hunts, the propaganda parade on cable news, and the tribal politics of “you’re entitled to your own reality.”

We’re going to keep limping through, with Democrats trying to slap on salve and bandages where they can and Republicans normalizing the notion that there is no such thing as society – just them that has and them that can suck it. In a world where a millionaire apartment developer can tell millennials they could afford a house if they just gave up avocado toast – while Silly Con Valley housing prices skyrocket 20% every year – the Republican meme is that everything bad that happens to you is your own fault, from illness to poverty to skin color to just not being able to keep up with the cost of living. And now the Baby Boomers will pull up the very ladder they used, with affordable college and available housing and defined benefit pensions, and everyone else can go screw.

Which is why it’s time to start thinking about how America will look if we survive. Because this is unsustainable. Our system of government, our entire political culture in the 20th century, depended on certain norms and unwritten rules and cultural guidelines which have all gone out the window, almost entirely of Republican doing. And if they’re committed to their tribal project, there’s no way to prevent them from continuing to vote – we’d have to just make some kind of pact that everyone else will vote for the same person every time to ensure they can’t get in. At which point you’re right back in Alabama, where the party primary decides the statewide result (and has for basically all but three or four statewide elections in the last century). And Alabama is a broke, dysfunctional system of government whereby people only get by because they’ve had the Feds holding a gun to the state’s head.”

 

May 16, 2017

 

 

 

“So what happens now? Even if Trump bites the dust and the GOP is turned out of office across the board in a manner recalling 1974-76, what are we left with? We have a political party still in existence whose members have been radicalized to believe anything they are told by their trusted leadership – which largely consists of conspiracy-mongering media. We have an electoral process that was compromised by bad actors in and out of government and which was swayed by a foreign power, and a nuclear one at that – what do we do about that? We have the precedent of a President elected while stonewalling any effort to explore his finances, his foreign ties or his past conduct – why should any future candidate not do the same? We have net neutrality crucified on behalf of Comcast and Verizon – how do we return to a regulatory framework robust enough to ensure actual competition in broadband and get us within shouting distance of what the rest of the world has? And – most of all – how do we convince the rest of the world that our leadership and our global role can be given any more heft than, say, Italy? Or Russia? Or any other country with a corrupt and compromised political leadership and a public unable to check or contain it?”

July 14, 2017

 

 

“The rules of the Senate and the composition of the Electoral College means the Republican Party can get its way without having the most votes in a way the Democrats simply can’t anymore. They could have, maybe, in 2009 – but they were still constrained by norms and traditional practice and “the way things are done.” The Republicans have the advantage of not caring about that in the least, which is of a piece with the way that party has worked for a quarter century. Twenty-five years of AM radio and cable news and being led around by the nose by carnival barkers and rodeo clowns and circus freaks. Twenty-five years of being told that it’s not enough to have your own opinions, you’re entitled to your own facts. And if they don’t square with reality? You’re entitled to your own reality. You can believe that 10% of the federal budget goes to foreign aid and that your Affordable Care Act insurance is more virtuous and entitled than the Obamacare those brown people have and that there’s some secret Democrat child sex ring spiriting kids to Mars as slaves…

Our system was not divinely ordained, not handed down from Olympus as some timeless model of perfection. It was conceived in iniquity and birthed in sin, reserving power to the male, the white and the landed. More than one person has pointed to the various amendments in the ensuing 240 years as proof that the American struggle is ultimately toward giving everyone the participatory power that the Founding Fathers reserved for their own kind. But it isn’t working any more. 

We’re broken. We’re not going to be able to fix this, because the people who could have – the people who needed to stand up and say “look, I disagree with the Democrats but this is horse shit, there are no death panels, foreign aid is a rounding error compared to your Social Security, Sharia law is not a thing that is happening in this country, the President is an American citizen born in Hawaii and a practicing Christian” – those people sat on their hands and kept their mouths shut so they could reap the partisan advantage, and it got us to this point. Between the hilljack yokels, the ones who mined their ignorance for electoral profit, and the ones who can’t be arsed to take part, there aren’t enough people left to reliably redeem the country.

And here’s the kicker: what happens when the rednecks run into reality? The kind of reality that can’t be reconciled with the old “the universe is 4.5 billion years old six days a week and 6000 on Sundays”? The kind of reality you can’t wish away? The kind of reality that doesn’t care what Alex Jones told you because that cancer isn’t going to respond to peach pit extract and your insurance won’t cover you anymore? What happens once these Trump voters all realize they played themselves? Are they prepared to live with the consequences? And since the answer is almost certainly hell no, who are they going to take it out on? And how? And what are we prepared to do about it?”

July 31, 2017

 

 

“Sixteen years ago, Osama bin Laden made Stupid Americans shit themselves. Then we spent every year after validating stupid. And after a wihile, Russia figured out how to exploit their fear. And Twitter and Facebook both lay back and allowed them to do it. The confluence of public stupid and technological free-for-all destroyed the 21st century before it could start. And now, because we didn’t push back on an electoral college that make the person with the most votes lose, because we didn’t push back on conspiracy theorists as “news”, because we decided the Internet was the free-speech wing of the free-speech party (whatever the fuck that means other than something to let tech bros get erect), we wound up where we are now. Comcast and Verizon have free reign to carve up Internet access like cable TV. There is no free market in broadband anymore. The budget is such a freakin’ disaster area that we don’t even know whether to pay off the property tax now so it’ll still be deductible on our federal return.

The really disturbing thing is…how do you come back from this? Elect a bunch of Democrats and then see if you can get away with impeachment, which will only put a bigger holy roller in the Oval Office and convince Ed Earl Brown that the job is done because Trump’s out? Run the table in 2020 and start trying to put things back like they were, only to get smeared by the catamites at the New York Times and take an ass-kicking in 2022? Do we have the time to wait for demographics to fix things or are we going to be too far gone by then?”

Dec. 22, 2017

 

 

“You don’t have to like it. No one is asking you to approve of everything they stand for, everything they might want to do, and that’s fine – nothing serious could move for two years anyway. You don’t have to worry that Congress is suddenly going to nationalize Comcast and outlaw Baptists. It’s fine. This isn’t about granular issue positions any more. Those have to wait for later. This is about only one side being willing and able to stop the bleeding.

Because the GOP had plenty of chances to head this thing off, and couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t. For better or worse, this is what it means to be a Republican in 2018: I believe all of this is OK. Because nothing has happened to stop it. If the GOP was going to stand up to Trump, they’ve had two years to do so. And it didn’t happen, except for a gesture toward healthcare by a dying man who isn’t there anymore. Flake, Collins, all the sorrowful “moderates” – they’re there for him when it counts. Every single time.

The fact of the matter is, we functionally have a two-party system. You can vote for a third party if you want, but don’t kid yourself that you’re not actually throwing away your vote. The Green party isn’t going to save you, and there is no magical third way moderate who is going to lead us out of this. Your choices are yes, this is OK, or no it isn’t. And right now, today, in 2018, “no it isn’t” is labeled Democrat. Full stop.

Maybe if the sixty-something percent who say “no it isn’t” in polls could all get behind one party, we could do a deal. We’ll hash it out in the party, and when the rubber hits the road we’ll hold our noses and support what we decided to do rather than going all different directions and tolerating crazy – or worse, endorsing it – for the sake of getting our own way. And we’ll leave the nuts and the crazies and the assholes on the outside and wait for them to die, and contain in the meantime, because holding together a society is more important than burning it down for a bare advantage.”

1 Nov 2018

 

 

“The Republican Party has become Trump, and Trump has become the Republican Party, and the GOP that built itself on Lincoln, Eisenhower and Reagan has been reduced to a postmodern religious cult of hate, fraud and make-believe. Only an idiot seeks to meet bullshit halfway, and there is nothing to gain by trying to split the difference with Crazy World. Call it out, cut it off, and shun everyone and anyone who won’t, including the catamites of the Washington press corps. “Come let us reason together” only works with people capable of reason, and the burden of proof is all on the other side now. Start by making the most simple litmus test of all: if you can’t say who won, you don’t get to play.The end.”

Nov. 23, 2020

 

 

“We’re back to containment. This is the last chance for the GOP to climb off the train before becoming the QOP. It may yet be necessary to blow up the filibuster and resort to adding states and going full scorched earth to prevent the scum who tried to overrun the capital taking a place in American politics. But for the moment, the “not all Republicans” are being offered one chance at a Billy Martin.”

Jan 20, 2021

 

***

 

If they were ever going to come around, they’d have done it by now already. They have not. They will not.

Stop pretending there’s anything to gain from “bipartisanship.” Stop pretending you can make a deal. Stop negotiating with “No.” Kill the filibuster, kill the debt ceiling, pack the court, add some states, federalize the right to vote, and take the consequences.

the semiotics of the pen

It turns out I wrote most of this article over a decade ago. I may as well pick up where I left off. Not long after the 0.38 G2 became a thing, I drifted into a Japanese stationery store at Santana Row and found a Uni-Ball retractable in 0.38mm, featuring a never-before-seen blue-black ink. And that immediately became my pen. Granted, I rarely actually needed a pen, but I snatched it up anyway – to the point that when I went to Japan in 2015, I raided Tokyo Hands for over a dozen of them, in both retractable and non-retractable varieties (including a couple of 0.28mm, which frankly are only good for tearing the paper, you may as well write with a razor blade).

And sometime in the last four years, I found a very agreeable stick rollerball at Muji, in the same blue-black and 0.38, for $1.49 each. I bought a handful of them, and good thing, because Muji seems to have gone by the boards. And in the meantime, my everyday carry pen became a brass retractable from Machine Era, an American company specializing in the kind of mechanical manufacturing that doesn’t often get done in the country any more. I have a bolt-action retractable in stainless steel that uses any Parker refill, and the smaller brass one that takes the mini-refill, and is optimized for travel abroad with a Moleskine notebook – and which incidentally works out ideally in a pandemic world as a germ-resistant means of poking buttons. After all, in a world where there’s one cup of pens or pencils that says “SANITIZED” and another that says “DIRTY”, how much better to pull out your own writing instrument where required?

I still keep the Moleskine notebooks for travel, but mostly haven’t used them domestically for years. Time was, that was how I did a brain dump, and in some ways I still do – my desk needs a legal pad and a pen for me to work out thoughts, make lists, diagram the flow of how I want things to work. It’s easier to make notes on the fly with Evernote or the Notes app on the phone, but for some reason, my brain just processes better if I have the weight of a pen in one hand (thus the particular appeal of the Machine Era pens) and a broad blank page to work with.

It still feels like a necessary implement. The world has worn the contents of my pocket down to keys, wallet and phone, plus my AirPods and handkerchief, and so many of the things I needed to carry in the past are either by the boards (headphones, iPod, lighter, pipe, Swiss Army knife) or no longer particularly useful (no need for the Leatherman on you when you never leave the house, and the pen can stay on the desk, and honestly for most of the past year everything but the phone could be left on top of the dresser most days without incident). 

But taking up that pen and pad feels like readiness. Like i’m preparing to think, to figure things out, to make notes, to create. I need a pen because deep down, who I am is someone that has need of a pen. 

the semiotics of the boots

Like any American kid, I were tennis shoes for years. Well, trainers, in the UK sense… because tennis gave way to cross-trainers to basketball high-tops. The only exceptions were the Rockport boots I wore to Central Europe in 1992 and a pair of cowboy boots gifted to me in 1995. And that was that, for the most part. But the 90s were the era of “Casual Friday” when you needed a smart step down from the suits and coats and ties of traditional business, and that meant something nicer than Nike.

I spent a good chunk of 1996 and 1997 looking for a suitable pair of brown shoes… Screw Frank Zappa, I needed adult footwear, and I genuinely don’t know what I did at work for the first couple of years before I was gifted my first pair of Dr Martens at Christmas of 1998. Somehow I had in mind that it was the appropriate footwear of an aspiring system administrator, and that I needed to make up for lost time in the 1980s. And that. began the streak – for over a decade, it was all Docs all the time. I ended up with over a dozen pair – high, low, sandals, square-toed, steel toed, you name it. They carried me from DC to Apple to NASA and beyond.

By 2012, I was wondering whether I needed to turn over a new leaf. Thus began a whole slew of new options over the next five years. I got Alden Indy boots for my birthday. I bought my first pair of chukkas, which were my last pair of Docs. I brought back Solovair and Lokes from the British Boot Company in Camden Town. I bought two pair of boat shoes for the first time in decades.

But in 2017, I grabbed a pair of steel toed Blundstones. I didn’t need them for any industrial purpose, but it felt necessary. In a world where the assholes had the upper hand from the train platform to the White House, I needed to touch some of what I had possessed in my 30s. And that’s when I realized the boots mean something.

But I haven’t had the need for a long time. For a year and a half, a pair of black plastic Birkenstocks have been all the footwear I require. And I feel the absence of the boots, because I want them propped on the rail of the bar. Or on the cobbles of a London backstreet. I want reason to need the boots, and I want to feel like I did in the old days when they were part of my uniform. Because back then, I did things. There were things to do. More than sitting around in circles waiting for life to begin again.

Hopefully it’s almost time to get on your boots.

they’ll do anything to need the guns

There is no bottom. The modern 21st century GOP sinks ever deeper into militant redneckery, and in 2021 it’s worse than ever. And the alarming bit is that there is a common thread. On January 6, they attacked the Capitol in mob force in the belief that somehow they could stop the result of the Presidential election. In some Southern states, they have removed any legal obstacle to carrying concealed weapons. Most of the month of August was spent with crowds shouting down school board meetings and hospital emergency rooms. And then, Texas passed a law that essentially banned abortion, but enjoined the state from enforcing the law – instead empowering anyone else in the state to sue to enforce it.

The Republican party is now organized around the principle that mob rule by whites is the most valid form of government, and that the methods and process of electoral democracy should be subordinate to the demands of white mob rule, empowered by the threat of violence. The number of elected officials threatening a re-run of January 6 should be an alarm bell, as should the frequency with which quotidian local political operations are being disrupted by gangs of hyperactive Fox News consumers. All protected by the most prominent feature of white privilege: freedom from summary justice, the same protection that took Dylan Roof to Burger King but gunned down Elijah McCain and Trayvon Martin. To paraphrase PJ O’Rourke in another era, if this mob were criminals, they’d be poorer and darker skinned.

By contrast, imagine that we knew a batallion of ISIS were coming to attack the US Capitol on the day of the Electoral College vote count. Would they have been allowed to mass together up the street? Would they have been allowed a parade of speakers to agg them on? Would they have been let to fill the steps of the Capitol without resistance? Would they FUCK. The DC National Guard and active-duty military would have turned the west front into a sea of human gazpacho.

The GOP exists to legitimize violence by whites only. It’s past time to call them on it and do whatever is necessary to break it.

flashback, part 113 of n

“try to remember the kind of September…”

2012.

For all my life, the arrival of autumn was the new beginning. Football season, back to school, the restoration of normal service after the abnormally hot and humid interlude of a Southern summer. And for most of the last ten years, it hasn’t meant anything but more heat, more misery, fires over a third of the state, and a reminder that things aren’t what they used to be.

But 2012 was actually a pretty good year. I made a trip home on short notice and hammered out the beginnings of, if not a peace treaty, a cease-fire with my relatives and first exposure to a new Birmingham that still intrigues me. I made a return to Vanderbilt for a football game for the first time in fifteen years, at a time when it felt like Vanderbilt football might improve to a seven-win program without having to compromise our values or sell our souls. We had friends nearby, close enough to call for dinner downtown without notice. I had a blood relation within fifty miles, for crying out loud. I had an out-of-band raise and recognition at work, even if it was starting to get a little annoying. And Cal had a newly remodeled stadium and the promise of “root hog or die” for Jeff Tedford, who as it turned out was way past his sell-by date.

The world was saner, too. Osama bin Laden was dead, the Senate was safely in Democratic hands, and there was no reason to feel like Obama could’t win in 2012. No virus. No Trump. It felt like 2000 could still be an anomaly, and that maybe a Presidential election going to the candidate without the most votes was a one-off rather than a permanent structural disadvantage. We hadn’t had Sandy Point yet, the proof that nothing will move the needle for the GOP, and Moscow Mitch wasn’t yet embarked on the permanent destruction of the norms and folkways of the US Senate in the name of preserving white supremacy for all time. And Washington had an exciting quarterback and a football team worth paying attention to for the first time in years. Technology wasn’t in a rut yet. It would take another year or so for the mobile phone to cross the finish line. LTE was coming, as was NFC and AMOLED and other nice-to-have technologies, but the iPad was a dream and the iPhone 4S was as perfect a device as I could ask for, having been handed it as a warranty replacement for a flaky 4. The iPhone 5, while intriguing, wasn’t a have-to-have yet. Facebook was bad, but hadn’t yet destroyed an election, and Instagram was new and interesting and fun to use.

And I was 40. That was kind of a problem, but it felt like things were moving the right direction. I certainly didn’t think I was in a rut, even though my health was taking a few knocks. I wasn’t under any therapist’s care, because I didn’t need to be, and even though my shoulder was twinging there was the hope that a quick epidural would fix it. Blue Shield hadn’t yet tried to screw me on the coverage.

I started my fifth decade pretty damn well. And then time happened. Progress ground to a halt, stupid graduated from valid to dominant, and we learned the hard way that the unwritten rules are meaningless and only cultural obstacles protect our established practices. Someone sufficiently shameless can do anything they want just by brazening it out, and they proceeded to do just that, over and over, until we landed here.

I know I’ve said before how much it felt like I wasted the decade of the 90s, but the decade of my own 40s has been a bust too – stagnant, depressed, running to stand still and still losing ground. I am in the middle of some fairly drastic changes in hope of breaking out of the quagmire, and I don’t have a lot of hope for anything wildly better, but if we were to end up safely in our new home, and I were to find my way to a job that could be done 100% remote, and done from anywhere, and that would at least pay enough to keep me fed and clothes and housed if I were left alone in Alabama, and that I could be assured of keeping for fifteen years or more as long as I worked hard and did a good job–

That would be enough, wouldn’t it? I don’t need the world, I just need the assurance that I will somehow be able to get by for a good twenty years. But this September, that seems like too much to ask for.

the killers, “the getting by”

When I get up, she swears that she don’t hear it

Says that I’m as quiet as a mouse

I comb my hair and throw some water on my face

And back out of the stillness of our house

Lately, my patience is in short supply

Nothing good seems to ever come from all this work, no matter how hard I try

You know I believe in the Son, I ain’t no backslider, but my people were told they’d prosper in this land

Still, I know some who’ve never seen the ocean or set one foot on a velvet bed of sand

But they’ve got their treasure laying way up high, where there might be many mansions

but when I look up, all I see is sky

Maybe it’s the getting by that gets right underneath you

It’d swallow up your every step, boy, if it could

But maybe it’s the stuff it takes to get up in the morning and put another day in, son

That holds you till the getting’s good

Green ribbon front doors, dishwater days, this whole town is tied to the torso of God’s mysterious ways

Maybe it’s the getting by that gets right underneath you

It’d swallow up your every step, boy, if it could

But maybe it’s the stuff it takes to get up in the morning and put another day in, son

that keeps you standing where you should

So put another day in, son, and hold on till the getting’s good

fifteen years

When I started this blog, it was supposed to be the public-facing option. It was going to be an adjunct to LiveJournal, which was locked down and private and only for friends. And then, as my wife says, time happened. And social media happened. And I made some bad decisions around the incipient world of social media in an attempt to make more happen in the real world, and I know now that all of that was part and parcel of the depression incident of 2007 and the last thing I needed was to sever parasocial ties in hopes it would lead to social ones. More fool me.

Well, I think I’ve built up enough backlog of content now. There’s the misery of four election seasons, there’s a decade of suspicion of Silly Con Valley and all its pomps and all its works and all its empty promises, there’s the complete history of the iPhone starting from my perch inside Apple for its debut, there’s the rise and fall of Vanderbilt athletics that aren’t baseball or women’s bowling, there’s travel abroad on half a dozen occasions. There’s the story of me, age 34-49, constantly fighting to stay what I am and resisting becoming who I probably could or should be.

It’s security through obscurity. I make no effort to promote this, nor do I really want to. But maybe it’s time to see if more than four or five people ever look at this, going forward. And maybe I need to see if I can do this on a schedule sometimes, address some broader topics, hit some word counts, see if I can communicate to a requirement. Because who knows, that might be next on the list if work doesn’t pan out the way I need it to.

And when I do need to put up a publicly identified known online presence, I’ll keep this air-gapped, because sometimes you need to erase a dot without leading people to wonder what was under the dot. But for now, if you’re just now here…welcome.

That’s a wrap on year 15. Here’s to better days coming.

retreat

There are no good answers now.

The good answer was in 2002, when the Taliban were pushed into a corner. The good answer was to accept NATO’s invocation of Article V, make this a multinational effort with the singular objective of overthrowing the Taliban, and then allow a drawn-down multinational force to supervise humanitarian reconstruction. But no, we had to go it alone and then take our eye off the ball before the job was done so that Bush the Dumber could work out his daddy issues in Iraq, with predictable results.

For the last ten years or more, there have been two choices: stay forever and slowly bleed out, or give up and come home and accept the consequences. There is no national will to stay, so the only thing to do is come home – which was not a controversial notion at all until two weeks ago when people realized What That Meant. Now the Republicans are desperately hoping everyone will forget all the tweets and posts and press released about how Tr*mp actually ended the war in Afghanistan so that they can paint this as Biden’s Saigon (timely reference, well done, why not compare Hillary to Maude again).

The fact is, Biden wants out. He wanted out in 2009-2010, and had to sit by as the Pentagon mau-maued Obama into going along with another “surge” in order to [FILE NOT FOUND]. Given the opportunity, he has refused to go along with it again, and the Pentagon has a lot to answer for – mostly “how come this army you trained and equipped for eighteen years fell over like a Big 12 football defense at the first sign of combat?”

It’s going to be ugly, and my heart breaks for everyone stuck there, and we’re probably ten years away from another mob of expat Saudis launching terror attacks around the world from their safe haven (and it’s past time to hold Saudi Arabia to account for the last twenty years, but good luck with that), but at some point, you just have to accept that band-aids don’t fix bullet holes and we don’t have the will as a country to do anything else, and that the time to save Afghanistan was three administrations ago. Let’s just try to make a little bit of an effort for once to put the blame where it belongs this time.

when the rules are broken

There are rules that weren’t there to begin with. There were no scholarship limits in college football until Bear Bryant started signing guys to sit on the bench for four years just to keep them away from Auburn or Georgia Tech or Tennessee. There was probably no icing in hockey until it was realized that you could just keep dumping it down to the other end and never actually get any action in front of the mount. The spitball was perfectly legal in baseball until a guy got hit in the head and died. A rule is generally there to maintain order and keep things fair, and as soon as someone figures out how to abuse it to their benefit, it generally has to be changed.

California is spending millions and millions of dollars, in the middle of a pandemic and a protracted fire season and god knows what else is around the corner, in order to hold a recall election. This election is to turf out the governor, Gavin Newsom. Never mind that there are elections next year, or that Newsom was convincingly elected with almost 62% of the vote first time out, or that there is nothing in particular that he has done that is out of bounds with what any other governors have done in the last three years, especially as regards the pandemic. Newsom was elected to be governor of the capital of the Resistance, and has mostly handled his duties without incident.

But.

If you can get 12% of the number of voters who voted in the last election to sign a petition, you can initiate a recall. And if the recall is successful, then there is a list of replacement candidates, and whoever gets the plurality of votes there wins.  About 60% of the state voted last time out, which means that in theory, you only need 7.2% of eligible voters in the state to call for a recall.  And since the incumbent can’t be on the ballot, whoever comes first on the list is governor, no matter how low a percentage of votes they get so long as no one else’s is higher.  Meaning that with 46 candidates on the ballot, it’s very possible that someone with a quarter of the vote or so will get to become governor.

This is happening for one reason and one reason alone: because the Republican Party knows it is too weak to win a fair election in California. They could barely muster 40% of the vote for their candidate in 2018 – but they only have to round up half of their own voters to have enough signatures to force a recall, at which point they get another bite at the apple for the low low price of a quarter of a billion dollars.

I’m sure the recall must have seemed a valuable tool at some point, but like the proposition system, it has become a way to buy and finagle what cannot be won fairly at the ballot box or through the political process. Both are past their sell-by date, and it’s insane to leave sharp objects lying around where the ignorant and willfully malicious can use them to hurt someone. Or the state.