You don’t have to be mentally ill to believe most whack-a-doo conspiracy theories. The internet can spread them like an infection, and the American corpus is in danger of losing some limbs.
The Millions of Christs of America Read More »
I don’t really know what the subjunctive is, but somewhere in the back of my head I think it transforms was to were. As in, If I were a rich man, Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
I Haven’t Settled on a Title Yet Read More »
8 (really, 9) streaming titles that you’re likely unfamiliar with. I found each, in its own way, to be excellent. 4 straight dramas, a Canadian sitcom, a funny drama, a dramatic comedy, a dedicated dramedy, and 1 food doc.
Streaming through the Cracks Read More »
My Jewish maternal grandparents came to America just ahead of WWII. Nearly all of my grandmother’s extended family were wiped out in the Holocaust. Much of my grandfather’s extended family had previously emigrated to Palestine. My maternal family history illustrates why many modern American Jews continue to view Israel as their ultimate safety net. After two millennia of vicious anti-Judaism, many Jews believe they can eventually be run out of any country, even Untied States. American Jews’ sometimes uncritical support for Israel is underpinned by a wistful glance and a knowing nod; if it does happen here, we can escape to there. Even though I am only half-Jewish, my familial immigration history is more recent than most American Jews. Their ancestors typically arrived here a full generation or two earlier than mine, and most of them did not lose a slew of close family members in the Holocaust like my grandmother did. But unlike most American Jews, I can counter the fear of “It can happen here” with a sense of American belonging that stems from deeply rooted Southern WASP family history. Depending on which of my paternal branches you follow, we’ve been here upwards of about three centuries. Or so they tell me. Exactly how long ago the Reinhardts, Lowrances, Younts, Dunkles, and Hollers I’m descended from first arrived here is besides the point. In fact, not having an exact date actually helps; it was long enough ago that no one really knows. And that feeds into the one common thread binding deeply-rooted white Protestant Americans, despite their many differences in class, education, geographic region, and religious denomination. It’s the unassailable sense that you belong here because you’re from here. That you’re not really the sons and daughters of immigrants. Rather, you’re descended from the people who took this land from Native Americans, and who fought to gain independence from the British. That you’re part of the group who really “earned” it. America’s your inheritance. You own it. This is also the core of Trumpism: believing you have a better claim to being here than other people do. That you belong here more than anyone else. And that you, not them, gets to decide how your country is run: who gets to stand at the front of the line, who’s at the back, and who’s not allowed in at all.
Fuck It, I’m Staying Here Read More »
Let me start by pointing out that this blog post is for my general readership, which is largely non-Native. And I of course am not Native. So all I’m trying to do is contextualize the issue for those who may not know much about it. I’m certainly not speaking for Native people. If you’re curious as to what they think but don’t know any Native people you can talk to, there are plenty of Native people writing about it. And the ones I’m familiar with have been unanimous on this issue for many, many years now. Let’s start with the word redskin. It’s a slur. Period. This award-winning book cover for C. Richard King’s Redskins: Insult and Brand (2015) illustrates the point as succinctly and forthrightly as anything I’ve seen. Is redskin equivalent to nigger? I don’t know, and honestly, it’s not for me to say. But it is unquestionably a racist epithet at least on a par with things like darkie and slant. The parallel to slant is actually very relevant; more on that below. It’s time, once and for all to dispel the myth that the team’s name has ever “honored” Indigenous peoples in any way. That’s utter poppycock for several reasons. First, the name was not chosen to honor Native peoples. It was chosen in much the same way many early-20th century Indian-themed team names were chosen. Along with Eagles and Bull Dogs, Indians were seen as an animalistic mascot signifying something distinctly American. Furthermore, the man the team claims it was named for, their former head coach William “Lone Star” Dietz, was a criminal and a fraud. He was NOT Native. But he pretended to be. A dark-haired white man of German descent from Wisconsin, he made a career out of lying about being Indian.
On the End of the R*dskins Read More »
Charlie Daniels died yesterday at the age of 83. I have very mixed feelings. As a kid in the late 1970s, I purchased two different Charlie Daniels Band 45s. First was the decade’s seminal novelty song, “The Devil Went Down to Georgia. Not long after getting it, I’d memorized the lyrical tale of Johnny’s epic fiddle battle Satan himself. It was the first Southern Rock music I ever bought. A year later I picked up “In America,” particularly drawn its characterization of Pittsburgh Steelers fans people you just don’t mess with. In the early 80s I discovered Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Allman Brothers Band, music I still adore. Looking back from that, I then dug deeper into CDB, as Daniels’ fans often called his outfit, and got A Decade of Hits. It remains and outstanding collection of the band’s 1970s singles. I eventually also bought Saddle Tramp (1976), the only full length original Charlie Daniels album I ever owned. It’s also very good. The one time I saw the Charlie Daniels Band in concert was in 1993. They were opening for a reconstituted, but still respectably originalish, version of Skynyrd. I’d repeatedly heard from others that Daniels always had a roster of crack musicians in his band, and they did not disappoint. It was a great show. But there was also an odd moment during their set, an impromptu display of sadness and anger.
In Memoriam: Charlie Daniels Read More »
I can’t imagine there’s not a serious observer who doesn’t assume that Donald Trump suffers from some form of serious mental illness. Possibly multiple illnesses. As far as we know, they’ve never been officially diagnosed by a medical professional, and it seems highly unlikely that he’s ever been seriously treated. And this is at the core of what America has always gotten, and continues to get wrong about him and his presidency. I’m not a professional; it would be irresponsible of me to publicly guess which illness(es) Trump suffers from. And besides, that’s not my point. Rather, it’s that people who don’t have training in or substantial experience with serious mental illness can often be quite naive about it. And we, as a society, have been extremely naive about Donald Trump. Without a clear understanding of mental illness, or often even recognition of it, people typically make an enormous mistake: they think that someone suffering from serious mental illness can, like the rest of us, simply learn to “behave better.” That you can explain to them what they’ve done wrong, and they’ll learn and adjust. Or that if problems continue, you can successfully use a system of rewards and punishments to reinforce better behavior, like you would with a dog or a child. And if they don’t adjust, they’re just being stubborn, or they’re “bad apple.” But that’s not how it works. And not because mental illness is so different from other illness, but because it’s so similar in certain ways. As with any serious illness, band aids and pep talks accomplish next to nothing. Serious mental illness requires serious mental health care treatment, which may include medication. Seriously ill people can’t simply be encouraged or shamed into being better. Why?
Donald Trump, Mental Illness, and Us Read More »
Lies and mythology are related, but they’re not the same thing. One person can lie to another, whereas mythology exists and functions across society. I can tell you a lie, but a myth is something we tell ourselves. A myth is made up of many lies that magically add up to a higher “truth.” Donald Trump lies. A lot. Clearly more than most people, and probably more than any other president. Arguably professional journalism’s greatest failing of the last several years has been its reluctance to label him a liar or to even identify his lies as such. Instead, they almost always play it safe, on the grounds that they cannot read his mind, and so they settle for euphemisms. He is “incorrect.” He “exaggerates” and “misstates.” His statements are “inaccurate.” Respected, professional news outlets almost never call him a liar. They never say he lies. Of course it isn’t always a lie. Some if it is just gross stupidity. But he also intentionally lies. Many thousands of them. This is very important. When we fail to challenge Donald Trump’s countless lies, they are allowed to form a larger mythological whole that is greater than the sum of its individual lies. The result is The Mythology of Donald Trump. A myth is full of statements that are “inaccurate” or “incorrect.” A society bundles up these individual lies and transforms them into a mythological truth. Take for example story of Pocahontas.
The Mythological President Read More »
It seems likely that over the next year or so, perhaps a million Americans, mostly the elderly, will die from Covid-19 (Corona Virus). A variety of models are predicting that perhaps one-half to two-thirds of Americans will become infected; somewhere between 200,000 and 1.7 million Americans will die from these infections; upwards of 21 million patients (about 6% of the population) will require hospitalization, overwhelming the healthcare system, and thereby increasing fatalities. Much of this is no one’s fault. Viruses mutate constantly, becoming exceptionally lethal when a mutation allows one to jump species. Say, from pigs (eg. swine flu) or from chickens (eg. bird flu) That’s because the new host species (eg. us) has had no prior contact with the new virus and must develop antibodies more or less from scratch. That takes a while, and the first pass can be exceptionally lethal. This process of viral mutation and virgin pandemics has been happening in the eastern hemisphere for millennia. By contrast, it happened relatively infrequently in the Americas prior to Columbus because by and large Native Americans did not domesticate many animals, and thus did not create many opportunities for viruses to jump species. This is why the long history of epidemiology is largely a history of Eurasia and Africa, where people have long domesticated a large variety of food and work animals. So to a large degree, the sudden emergence of Covid-19 is humanity’s fault at large for continuing to domesticate animals, particularly in close quarters and in unsanitary conditions. This was going to happen. But how it plays out, exactly, is another matter. And we can identify one man in particular, whose own ignorance, stubbornness, irrationality, pettiness, incompetence, selfishness, and gross irresponsibility will greatly worsen Covid-19’s impact in the United States: Donald Trump.
The Public Professor