One More Thing: The Trump Revolution Will Not Be Televised

the-establishmentOn Monday I published an Open Letter to Trump Supporters.  I tried to reach out, not as a Clinton supporter (I’m not), but as someone concerned that Trump presents some unique flaws and weaknesses.

I published the essay at 3 Quarks Daily as well as here.  Particularly at 3QD, which has a much larger readership than my site, I got a lot of interesting and robust feedback in the Comments section.  Really good dialog from smart people on all sides of the issue.

It now occurs to me that while I touched on a lot of good points in my effort to engage Trump supporters, I actually failed to address the one issue that will resonate most with many of them. Continue reading One More Thing: The Trump Revolution Will Not Be Televised

An Open Letter to Trump Supporters

open-letterLet’s be honest.  This probably  isn’t the type of website that attracts many Trump supporters.

But that’s not just a Public Professor thing.  It turns out that online or off, most Clinton supporters have minimal contact with Trump supporters and vica versa.  It’s a national phenomenon that speaks to the profound geographic and social segregation of partisan America.

Indeed, it’s probably a bit pointless for me to post an open letter to Trump supporters here.  But honestly, I’m not sure where else to turn.  After all, I don’t get to hoist monthly essays onto any Republican-leaning websites, and what follows is bound to be a bit too long for that modern day version of a Letter to the Editor, the beastly maelstrom known as a Comment Section.

So if you happen to be among that slim minority of Clintonistas who has real and meaningful interactions with Trumpatistas, feel free to share this with them, he said, like pen pal in want of a postman.

Dear Trump Supporter:

I get it.  Clinton supporters can be insufferable, condescending elitists. Continue reading An Open Letter to Trump Supporters

On Not Having Children

Forgot ChildrenDuring your 20s and 30s, when you don’t have any children, it is inevitable that people will periodically ask you: “Do you want to have kids?”

It never mattered who asked.  Family, friends, or lesser acquaintances, men or women, married or single, parents themselves or not.  I always had the same answer.

Yes, just not now.

During my mid-30s, I began to append a caveat: If I didn’t have any children by age 40, I probably never would.  I didn’t want to be an old dad.

But the realization, that I’d rather not be a middle aged gray beard huffing and puffing while I try to keep up with the little rascals, opened a door.  Whereas I’d previously assumed I wanted kids, just not now, the 40 year old expiration date I adopted forced me to question my pat answer and ask myself if I really wanted them at all.

After spending a couple of decades saying Yes, but not now, I finally realized something.  There was never a “now” because I never actually wanted them.  And I probably never would. Continue reading On Not Having Children

The Two Party System is Officially a Nightmare

Teenager For BarryMuch has been made of the fact that Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton are the two most loathed presidential candidates since the birth of polling.  Each of them has managed to alienate roughly half the country.  About a quarter of Americans despise both of them.  They make Barry Goldwater, Michael Dukakis, and Mitt Romney look beloved.

There has been a lot of focus on why these two candidates are so widely reviled.  Simple partisanship doesn’t seem to adequately explain it; fewer than a third of American view either of them favorably.

The Washington Post and ABC News tell us that Clinton-haters typically see her as a corrupt, untrustworthy flip-flopper, while Trump-haters hate too many things about him to list here, but it largely boils down to him being perceived as an inexperienced hatemonger.

Fortune magazine dispenses with the specifics and instead points to Clinton’s and Trump’s long and choppy resumés as repulsing the masses.  Despite whatever accomplishments they may have racked up over the years, the thinking goes, voters simply can’t get past the many “bad” things each candidate has done.

However, I’m less concerned with why exactly these two candidates are so widely detested.  On some level, the why doesn’t really matter; what’s more pressing, I believe, is the how.  In terms of American political mechanics, how could this happen and what does it mean?  How did we get here, and what can we learn from it?

The one common mechanical process in almost every aspect of American politics is the two-party system: an extra-constitutional artifice that long ago hijacked government.  And it is through those double swinging doors that we have stumbled into our current political purgatory.

This bi-polar orgy of villainy signifies that America’s two-party system itself is badly broken; indeed, this scenario might not have emerged if there were additional healthy political parties.

Let’s start with Donald Trump. Continue reading The Two Party System is Officially a Nightmare

Hotter

orange catHotter.  I need it to be hotter.

I’m sitting in the backyard of my sister’s carriage house apartment in Orange, California, a circle of jolly boutique and micro brew quaintness amid the sprawling shit hole that is Orange County.

Of course nowadays, most any place in America afflicted by people is a shit hole.  Indeed, even a quotient of the unpopulated spaces is beginning to emit a fecal stench, as if the human foulness emanating from the peopled portions of our nation is so strong as to waft and stain everything around it, like a halo of shimmering, homo sapiens stank.

I want it to be hotter.

After all, there are no more distinct places in the United States, or precious few at any rate.  Instead, there are just types.  The urban playground loaded with bars and restaurants, and kickball and skeeball leagues for childless 20- and 30-somethings; the poor and working class black and brown food deserts that gird the yuppies and empty nesters; the little towns hemorrhaging people, stragglers holding onto the local bar like shipwreck survivors grasping a buoy in the ocean; the increasingly opulent college towns full of precious students, microcosmic training yards for the urban playgrounds; the tourist spots offering up overpriced drinks and glossy nostalgia; and all of it bound together by highways, those endless concourses of fast food, gasoline, and the occasional pile of roadkill.

But all of those types are just islands scattered about the uber-type, that oceanic wasteland of suburbia and its relentless waves of roads, strip malls, and tract housing, repeating itself over and over again like the backdrop of a cheap 1970s cartoon where a boring bipedal cat, arms outstretched, chases a smarmy little mouse who’s certainly got it coming, but predictably manages to perpetually escape the fanged horror it deserves, thus prolonging the crankshaft repetition of house tree fence; house tree fence; house tree fence . . . Continue reading Hotter

Why You’re Going to Vote for Trump and How You Can Win a Free Ticket to Mexico

2+2=5I was very, very wrong, and now it’s time to pay for my mistakes.

The good news is, when I pay, you just might be the one to collect.  My loss can be your windfall.

The catch? You too will have to publicly debase yourself

Sigh.

How did it come to this? You and I publicly shaming ourselves on the internet, each of us desperately hoping to salvage a little bit of joy as the world burns around us?

It’s all because of that goddamned Donald Trump.

Trump is about to claim the Republican presidential nomination, and a whole lotta pundits got that one wrong.  Legions of professional gabbers, from every corner of the political spectrum, badly missed the mark, assuring you that he’d never be the GOP candidate.

Despite their wishful thinking dressed up in high falutin’ gibberish, it’s happening anyway; Trump is poised to become leader of the pachyderm pack.  And so a lot of the yakkers had to make amends.

Dana Milbank of the Washington Post literally ate his words.  Pass the salt and pepper.

Nate Cohn of the New York Times and David Byler of Real Clear Politics each created a laundry list of everything they got wrong, which like most analysts, was quite a lot.

Perhaps the oddest mea culpa came from polling wunderkind Nate Silver, who explained away his spectacular failure by saying that he had acted like a barbaric “pundit” instead of staying true to the “scientific method.”  Rather than relying on statistical modeling to figure out if Trump would win, Silver says he just made “educated guesses.”

Since Silver never really explains why he traded  true reason for such wild tomfoolery, I’m just gonna assume he went on a months-long bender.

Normally, it would be very easy for me to look down my nose at these losers.  After all, I’m not a statistician or a professional talking head.  I’m a historian.  And if there’s one thing studying history has taught me, it’s that trying to predict the future is pure folly.

What were these dullards thinking? Guess the future? Good luck with those crystal ball shenanigans.  Studying history has shown me, time and time again, that the future is unknowable.  The past is a mystery and the future is an illusion.  So allow me, in full haughtiness, to point a sanctimonious finger at these morons.

Except for one thing.  It turns out that I’m one of those morons.  I, too, am a loser. Continue reading Why You’re Going to Vote for Trump and How You Can Win a Free Ticket to Mexico

The NRA Supports Terrorists

Omar Mateen“The NRA does not want terrorists or dangerous people to have firearms,” National Rifle Association Director of Public Affairs Jennifer Baker said last November after the Paris attacks that killed 130 people.

I have no doubt that’s  true.  After all, why would the NRA want terrorists to have firearms?  It’s difficult to imagine a reason.

Baker went on to say: “any suggestion otherwise is offensive and wrong.”

Well, it’s not my intention to offend anyone, but honestly, I don’t care if I do.  Because it is increasingly obvious to most rational observers that while the NRA may have good intentions, its actions facilitate domestic terrorists’ acquisition of firearms.

The NRA likes to prattle on about how gun control laws won’t keep guns away from criminals.  But in the case of Orlando, Florida shooter Omar Matteen and other terrorists, we’re not talking about mere criminals. We’re talking about enemy combatants: people who have effectively declared war on the United States and seek to overthrow the constitution, including the 2nd amendment the NRA cherishes above all else.

As has been widely reported, the FBI investigated Mateen three times for possible terrorist links and activities.  Mateen variously pledged support to ISIS, Hezbollah, and a branch of Al-Quaida  called the Nursra Front.  These three groups all oppose each other, which illustrates Mateen’s incoherence.  However, the groups also all have something in common: they are all hostile to the United States, and the federal government lists them as terrorist organizations.

Nevertheless, Mateen legally purchased two guns from a shop run, ironically enough, by a retired New York City police officer who worked out of the World Trade Center on September 11.  Continue reading The NRA Supports Terrorists

In Memoriam: Muhammad Ali

Photo by John Peodincuk/NY Daily News Archive via Getty ImagesAs a boy, I was a Ken Norton fan.  That means I spent the 1970s rooting against Muhammad Ali, which was usually quite fruitless.  Any Norton fan could tell you: our man had beaten him two out of three, although the judges robbed one of those from Norton with a crooked decision.

So when the vampiric Leon Spinks shocked the world by outpointing Ali in 1977, it was a cause for celebration.  And when Ali got revenge in the rematch, it was to be expected.

The underlying story, however, was that when someone like Ali loses to someone like Spinks, it’s time to hang up the gloves up.  Yet Ali kept going, trudging through a series of embarrassments.  By the time Trevor Berbick finally pummeled him into retirement in 1981, it was hard to hate on Ali anymore.   He seemed like just another sad pugilist who’d hung around long past his due date.

It was also increasingly obvious to most observers that Ali was becoming what was then known as “punch drunk.”  The more technical terms was dementia pugilistica.  Today it’s it’s called CTE (Chronic Traumatic Encephalopahty), the form of brain damage that makes parents think twice about letting their kids play football.

As I came of age during the 1980s, I learned more about Ali, née Cassius Clay.  As a boxing fan, I came to appreciate that he was, in fact, almost certainly the greatest heavyweight of all time,  and undoubtedly one of the greatest boxers of any class.

But far more interesting was the life he lived outside the ring. Continue reading In Memoriam: Muhammad Ali

How The Washington Post Embarrassed Itself Badly

Marty Two Bulls cartoon
cartoon by Marty Two Bulls

Did I ever tell you about the four years I spent in prison back in the late 1990s?

Well, actually, it was just two hours on Thursday afternoons as a volunteer with the Native men’s group at Nebraska State Penitentiary in Lincoln, Nebraska.

I could gussy up the experience and say I was teaching inmates.  But mostly I was just hanging out.  Many prisoners, particularly those who’ve been in a while, are starved for new faces and happy to get some fresh conversation.

Sometimes I’d talk to people about serious issues.  Other times we’d just shoot the breeze.  One day while inside, I was talking to a guy.  Nothing serious.  I don’t even remember about what.  He asked something of me.  I said, “You got it, chief.”

Now here’s the thing.  Growing up in New York City, “chief” was (and still is) in the same class of words as “boss” and “buddy.”  They’re all informal monikers one man might casually give another if you don’t actually know each other’s names, or as a temporary nickname even when you do.  It’s a sign of modest respect and affection in the moment.  In a typical New York City context, they’re all completely harmless words and have zero racial connotation.

But the moment “chief” slipped out of my mouth in prison, I immediately remembered that of course this particular word has a very heavy connotation for Native people, particularly men.

His entire demeanor changed in a heartbeat.  We’d been happy, joshing around.  Now he stared right through me.

“Don’t you ever call me that again,” he said quietly, anger flashing in his eyes. Continue reading How The Washington Post Embarrassed Itself Badly

Notes Upon Seeing The Princess Bride for the First Time

photo from BuzzfeedI’m not sure why I never saw The Princess Bride before.  It came out in 1987, when I was a college student.  I saw lots of movies back then, both on the big screen and whirring through the VCR, but not that one.  And then over the years, it just slipped through the cracks.

I’d always heard good things about it.  I remember once my father sitting on the couch watching it on TV with my younger sister.  He raved about it and she was enraptured, but I was on my way out to carouse with friends.

Now and then people would quote lines from it; sometimes I was able to figure out the source, other times I had no idea.  Slowly it seeped into the edges of my consciousness without me even realizing it.

And then the other night, my girlfriend suggested we watch it.  So we did.

It is, of course, a minor masterpiece, easily living up to the hype.

Here are some random thoughts on what it is like at the age of 48 to see The Princess Bride for the first time, nearly 30 years after its theatrical release. Continue reading Notes Upon Seeing The Princess Bride for the First Time