Trump Disconnect Syndrome (TDS II)

    Please apply the #StinkTest. Please. Had the election outcome been different and Joe Biden was mimicking President Trump’s words and actions and his campaign was waging the same kind of war against democracy, what would be your reaction? It is inconceivable to me that ANYONE, no matter how partisan and committed, could buy into his absurdity, his ludicrous opinion that EVERYONE except his supporters is out to get him (including multiple Republicans and, wait for it, Fox News). You don't even have to try to put the shoe on the other foot -- just look at it and you have to see it doesn’t fit. It is beyond irrational. The possibility of a conspiracy that vast, involving as many people as would be required, and with no credible evidence, is absurd. That Kool-Aid would have to be laced with LSD. Speaking of acronyms....

    I previously offered my thoughts on TDS (Trump Defense Syndrome), the projection by Trump supporters that any criticism of the president is also a personal attack on them. His followers continue to be triggered by ANYTHING that remotely smacks of criticism, so nothing has changed, nor, I expect, will change. A little while back I posted an admittedly snarky shot at the president post-election. It was intended as humor, pointed humor to be sure, but it hardly rose (descended?) to the level of comments and tweets from the president himself during the last four years. His defenders complained that it (among other things I wrote) treated him unfairly. Hello, #StinkTest. Although I have no hope of changing even a single mind, and have been letting this piece percolate for a few weeks for that very reason, it is exactly this kind of triggering that has motivated me to revisit the issue of TDS. 

I have no doubt I will regret broaching this topic, but you’ll have to accept me at my word that it comes from a place of genuine curiosity and a desire to try to understand. Is it a forlorn hope that it’s a two-way street? (Sigh) Probably.

I truly cannot understand the disconnect that I see between defending the president, seemingly no matter what, while completely ignoring the UNPRECEDENTED criticism that has come, and continues to come, from those who have worked closely with him, men (there may be women, I’m just not aware of any) who were part of “the best people,” who chose to serve, if not him, at least their country in his administration. These men are not anonymous sources, but high profile persons of estimable character (okay, not Steve Bannon), generally respected across the aisle. That doesn’t even count former Republican presidents, self-identified conservative and libertarian columnists, the true-believer Republicans who founded The Lincoln Project, or less well-known members of his administration. It is astounding how many prominent Republicans endorsed his opponent. Has that EVER happened before, and why now? Nor does it count John (Buy my book) Bolton. Nor Colonel Vindman, nor…. Well, you get the picture, although that picture ought to include that their competition is Rudy Giuliani. Seriously?

Speaking of pictures, I’m including a meme (no, my negative opinion of memes has not abated) only because it presents some actual quotes all in one handy visual. 

How can Trump defenders explain the withering criticism (This from Gen. Jim Mattis is just one example) from so many of his inner circle? How can they continue to defend him when so many who worked closely with him in his administration have little, if anything, good to say about him? 

I’m sorry, but it is just not credible to think it’s ALL fake news, that EVERYBODY is wrong except him, that EVERYBODY is lying EXCEPT him, that EVERY critic is a hater or “Never-Trumper,” even if he appointed them, that ALL these people, respected people, unquestionably patriotic people, are out to get him. And even if so, why? I am therefore adding Trump Disconnect Syndrome (TDS II) to the original Trump Defense Syndrome (TDS).

I am genuinely curious how this happens. I promise not to argue answers, although I will call out deflections that don’t answer the question. I may (respectfully) ask a follow up or provide an anecdote, because that’s just who I am, but, again, I don’t expect any mind changing to emanate from this exercise. And if “Biden is worse” is all you’ve got, well, okay, then let’s not waste each other’s time, because not only does it fail to answer the question, but, as I’ve said on numerous occasions, IMO no one could possibly be worse than Despicable He: A.Bad.Man.

Oh, and add the recently fired Mike Esper to the list: “God helps us.”

Another Plague – TDS – Trump Defense Syndrome

This was written a few weeks ago, long before former Secretary of Defense James Mattis offered his rebuke (Click for Link)

Although I’ve been called a “hater,” I do not “hate” Donald Trump. I certainly do not hate those who still support him. Yes, I have no respect him for him, certainly not as a person, but also not as a leader. He must however, be given credit for effectively stoking anger, fear and division. 

Hatred, however, would require more of my energy than he deserves or time than I have for someone of his ilk. So, no, I do not hate him; that’s my choice, albeit one that requires constant mindfulness.

Of course, that will not satisfy those who suffer from Trump Defense Syndrome, TDS. Never mind that many of those same people “hated” Obama (personally) for their own reasons which need not be addressed here. 

The difference, however, is that those of us who felt many of the attacks on President Obama were unfair or unwarranted, did not take those calumnies personally. Just because some believed him to be a bicycle-helmet wearing Kenyan-born Muslim socialist/communist in a tan suit did not get interpreted as a personal attack on those of us who either supported him or did not find him nearly as threatening or abhorrent as Fox News and fake memes wanted us to believe.

But what I’ve noticed, for the many suffering from TDS, is that ANY fault-finding of the president, no matter how rational or justified or even trivial, is taken as a personal affront, a personal attack on them and their values, and is responded to in like manner. That parallels the reaction of the president himself, of course. Any stricture, even any question that he interprets as negative is viewed as a personal attack, because EVERYTHING is about HIM.

I won’t deny that some of those “attacks” on him are personal (although often, IMO, well deserved), but many, if not most, others are just questions that he seems incapable of answering in any objective manner or opposition to his ideas based on political or philosophical differences. His midnight tweets evidence how personally he takes ANY criticism. I find it ironic that a person who revels in personal attacks on his opponents is so thin-skinned when the mirror reflects in his direction. But isn’t that the way bullies typically operate? And yes, that is a personal attack on a despicable being, but not on you. But if you think this is personal, you may be, whether you recognize it or not, infected with TDS.

What Does Your Doctor Say?

I recently shared an Axios story (click for link) — only one of every three Americans believe the published death statistics for the current pandemic. To my way of thinking, that in itself is concerning – trust is clearly in short supply. It is even more concerning to me that our distrust is fueled and magnified by our political beliefs. In short, lefties think the numbers are too low while righties think they’re inflated. 

An expanded reply to a response re: that article follows. Because I think the reply has some merit on its own, I edited it and gave it its own blog entry. As I mentioned in the original post, the article ought to give anyone pause, although not necessarily hope. 

“My takeaway from this article is that it had absolutely nothing to do with which side is right or wrong, because it’s irrelevant (to the article). My takeaway is that perception is trumping reality and what people believe is based, for two-thirds of the populace, on 1) where they sit on the political spectrum and 2) where they get their news, offering conclusive evidence that people don’t believe what they hear and/or see, rather they see/hear what they believe.

As for me, I’m trusting the advice of MY doctor (if I don’t trust him, I need a new doctor), to whom I pay a lot of money, not some “expert” on cable news or You Tube or Facebook. I wonder how many of the people sharing memes, supporting protests, posting articles or videos, have actually consulted THEIR DOCTORS?

I think that’s going to be my standard response: What does your doctor say?

My doctor says it’s too soon to know anything for sure, because this crisis is unlike anything we’ve experienced before. He says it’s too soon to stop being careful and smart; neither is it wise to stop trusting science. Yes, I talked to him directly, personally, after he responded to my email with a phone call and 15-minute conversation. Additionally, he suggested that the CDC, Dr. Fauci, and even Gov. Cuomo are worth listening to; that letting other people be the guinea pigs who test the safety of dine-in restaurants is probably a smart strategy;* and that he felt safe in agreeing that cancelling our cruise this summer was the right call, although other travel this summer might be considered, given new safety protocols.

“You can’t eliminate all risk, you can’t shut the country down for the next 18 months; you can use common sense.”

We also concurred that while common sense, like trust, is, and has been, in short supply for quite some time, far too many people who think they have it, don’t.

* Carry-out to support your favorite eateries is very low risk, however. That is what we're doing to keep our favorites alive until the time when WE feel it's safe to start dining out again. That will be OUR call (after consulting OUR doctor), no matter the decision of any politicians to open up the economy based on some arbitrary, but politically motivated, date.

Dark Days

Just a reminder, most of my writing is really done for myself, as sort of therapy and a way to organize my thoughts. That especially applies to this piece.

I’m not that tough. I haven’t had to be. My experience with (true) adversity has been minimal. Even events that were cataclysmic didn’t really affect me personally that much. In terms of grief, I think it’s safe to say I’ve had less than my share.

I try to be aware and empathetic, so I’ve never been ignorant of world events and how they impact others; I’ve never belonged to the Libertarian school of thought that says, “If it’s not MY problem, it’s not a problem worth society taking a role in solving.” 

I was in high school when President Kennedy was assassinated; I thought it was awful, but it didn’t affect me like some of my classmates (or my wife, whom I was a long way, in terms of both time and distance, from knowing at the time). I understood why people were upset at the murder of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., but its only direct impact on me was relief that the class I cut wouldn’t count against me because the professor was so distraught he cancelled it. 

I legitimately failed my physical (which I took, no doctor’s note for me) after being drafted during the Vietnam War, and I darkly joked that for me to boycott classes after the Kent State massacre would have required I actually go to class. The floods in the district in which I taught were more impactful on my students than me. Student deaths are an unfortunate fact of life; I always tried to be supportive, but I felt far worse for my kids than myself. I knew that 9-11 was world changing, but I was always confident that we’d adapt and recover – and we did, even if such a recovery required redefining “normal.” 

I guess what I’m saying is that none of the above were really all that personal. Even my personal grief has been generally muted and not exactly tragic. Deaths of too young friends and co-workers were sad, but not devastating. The one unexpected death that I did grieve faded and didn’t resurface until well after the event itself, sitting with my wife having a drink, when the tears blew in like a summer storm. But like a storm, they, too, passed quickly and my life returned to normal.

But this feels different. This C-19 pandemic doesn’t seem like a temporary inconvenience, but more of a permanent upheaval in life as we know it, or at least I know it. Maybe things will truly get better, but at the moment I have almost no hope of an only slightly modified new normal, like 9-11. And I don’t feel well positioned to deal with it. Not tough enough, if you will. 

Part of that is based on my complete lack of confidence in the president of my country. I didn’t feel that way after 9-11. I’ve never felt this way, and I’ve lived under 11 previous presidents of both parties, 10 of whom I remember with some, if varying degrees of, clarity. I may not have been happy with the country’s direction or presidential leadership, but I viewed those administrations like I viewed some of the school administrators for whom I worked: “I’ll be here after you’re gone.” 

Congress, with its obsession on tribal victories, is only a little better. That toxic combo of presidential incompetence and irresponsibility and tribal, winner take all, congressional warfare, is just part of the problem, though. 

Another part, and related to my lack of confidence in the chief executive, is that mitigation compliance has become political, almost perverse. “If I support Trump, I must oppose any action to tamp down the pandemic. If I support Trump, attempts at mitigation are a plot against his re-election.” Interestingly this has even become a bit separated from political party; in Missouri there’s a protest planned against a Republican governor who was late to the party and an unenthusiastic guest but eventually joined in issuing a “Stay at Home” order.

Right now the disease is winning, even if far too many people are in denial, which threatens to make it even worse. I have little hope of a return to my comfortable, privileged life, and I, myself, am so much better off than people who are truly suffering, who have lost not just livelihoods but loved ones. For perhaps the first time since my early 20s, when I sort of enjoyed wallowing in negativity and angst, I am struggling to channel my inner Polyanna.

The Why Not The What

The why is more important than the what, motivation > outcome, process > result. When teaching history, what happened interested me far less than the why and how; in English, reasoning always eclipsed the actual conclusion.

As the tribes dig their trenches ever deeper and their siege mentality fossilizes, I struggle mightily, with ever increasing fatigue, to listen to, if not agree with, those who see politics (and society) as what more and more seems to resemble a war. I get that people view life through different lenses. So I don’t really care what people think nearly as much as I care why they think as they do.

I know good people who voted for the current president; I respect, even I don’t completely understand, their reasons. That I could never have come to that same conclusion does not negate their process or value as fellow inhabitants on this planet. I have been clear from long before the election that I had no respect for Donald Trump as a person, that I found him a despicable being, based on his own words and actions, not on what others said about him. 

I do have to give him credit for subsequently pushing his stock lower than even I could have imagined during his tenure; he has revealed himself to be an even worse being than I could have possibly anticipated. Understand, I’m talking personal traits (the word qualities seems so inappropriate), not political positions. Again, based on his own words and actions, not the opinions of others. 

Still, I get that at least many, if not most, of his supporters don’t think character matters; as long as that remains a consistent metric for future candidates with opposing POVs, I won’t argue. Some are so invested in the Republican Party (which is no longer resembles anything like the party of Eisenhower or Reagan or even Bush (43), but never mind) that their support is unwavering. Others are so anti-Democrat, frightened or disgusted by their vision of that party, that nothing else matters. Okay, I get that, too. I may view those positions as mistaken or wrong, but valid at least through their own lenses. The why, not the what.

Believe me, it takes a lot of effort for me to ignore everything to arrive at that point, but I can generally, grudgingly, manage. For so many people committed to their tribe, whichever tribe it is, it’s a black and white world.

But what truly frustrates me is that as hard as I work to give/find credit, to respect those who hold opposing views, to understand the why if not the what, I find little evidence that there is any attempt to understand MY why. Instead, I see memes and snarky reposts that too frequently border on personal (if not specifically addressed to me) attacks. For those defending the current president, if I can try to understand the why of your position, is reciprocity, the respect for one who disagrees with you, too much to ask? 

That is what is wearing me out and down. That is what makes me want to completely disengage. But my gift this holiday season is to persist. If you would like to reciprocate, may I suggest resisting the temptation to share that meme or post which demonizes, denigrates, or discounts those who don’t see the world through your lens, but their own, a lens they value. Think about their why.

No matter the tribe to which you pledge allegiance, mindlessly posting memes about the other just expands and mines a “No Man’s Land,” shredding the fabric of our nation, building a wall that keeps our country apart — and weak. 

Spirit of '76

There are some advantages to growing older (not the least of which is it beats the alternative), assuming you can remember them.

Remembering the past, for example. I’ve been involuntarily reminded recently (and frequently) of an attitude that prevailed for a while in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s as the nation was roiled by protests over the ill-fated Vietnam War and civil rights. Car bumper stickers sprouted like modern-day memes. “America, Love it or Leave it” is the one that comes to mind in light of modern day events. That ugly assumption, that if you have the temerity to criticize your country you must hate it, is making a resurgence. News commentators, social media posts and more are implying, if not outright yelling, that POV.

Why must everything be a zero-sum game, an all or nothing proposal, with both poles screeching at their opposites, and, worst of all, dismissing any valid points that get lost in the halitosis of the shouting? And what is MORE American, especially on the day celebrating our independence, than protesting? Tea Party anyone?

On this 4^thof July, before getting into snark, meme posting, or finger pointing, let’s apply the stink test to our thinking. Would I react the same way if the action or opinion came from my “team?” 

I saw a great t-shirt at the Pride Parade in St. Louis Sunday: “Be careful who you hate; it might be someone you love.” I think that applies on multiple levels.

Tributes to Traitors, Terrorists and Treason

To Say Nothing of Slavery and Racism

Because getting bent out of shape has become a national pasttime to which so many are addicted, I find lots of people complaining about the removal of symbols giving tribute to traitors and treason.

Yes, monuments to the Confederacy are, at a minimum, exactly that. The CSA was created to preserve the enslavement of human beings for the benefit of the landed aristocracy in the South. Armed insurrection against their country followed, creating a war that cost hundreds of thousands of lives and ripped our nation apart. Even sewn back together, the divide remained and the traitors, years later, erected monuments to honor their treason (plus honoring those who terrorized the new black citizens) and attempting to reshape the narrative. That revisionist history of the “Lost Cause” conveniently discounted slavery and attempted to transform sedition to nobility.

Monuments and flag worship have been part and parcel of that public relations coup. The virulent racism that continued and even grew in the post-war years exemplifies the statement, “The North Won the War but the South won the Peace.” Don’t believe me? Do some basic research about the corrupt deal settling the election of 1876 and preserving the presidency for the Republican Party. (Note: neither the Republican nor Democrat parties of 1876 are the parties of today.)

Does dismantling a monument or lowering a flag solve any of the pressing problems facing our nation? Of course not. Do those actions deserve the seemingly high priority assigned to them? Seems doubtful. But make no mistake, maintaining those artifacts of racism carries a price tag, both in terms of state and municipal treasuries but also in reminding those (or their ancestors) who were victims of that attitude that many people, and their state and local governments, considered them inferior, even subhuman. You need no more than a hint of empathy to understand how that feels, how that discounts the value of a significant number of Americans. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: Just because it’s not YOUR problem doesn’t mean it’s not A problem.

All that being said, I could never support the destruction of art (including today’s destruction of a 10 Commandments monument in Little Rock by a nut job with a history of such actions), no matter how offensive it might be to some people. (Not surprisingly, what offends me might not offend you, and vice versa.) I’m not suggesting we try some Orwellian erasure of history; it must be preserved (and analyzed and evaluated and debated). But such art (or history) needs to be displayed and maintained in museums or by privately funded entities. That apparently will be the case with the St. Louis monument to the Confederacy (created in 1914, long after the Civil War, but during the hey day of Jim Crow), as it is now in the custody of the Civil War Museum.

So if you want to get upset, you can add this piece to the list of things about which to fret. Or you might invest your energy in working to discover common ground and find solutions to problems that affect us all.

Stink Test II -- Walking Out, Closing Minds

As the outrage swirls on social media and elsewhere over the commencement walkout by Notre Dame students, I’m reminded of an incident with some paralells when I was at Hamilton College in 1967 (one that I’ve recounted before but as an example for a different topic). That anecdote might better apply to the Ann Coulter kerfuffle or others where students objected to the presence of a speaker whose views they find abhorrent. But I think the point is essentially the same.

I’m neither defending nor condemning their actions, their exercise of a civil liberty. Was their action disrespectful to the Vice-president? Perhaps, but do THEY feel disrepected by this administration? Probably. That they chose to reply in kind accomplished little, in my opinion, except to drive the dividing wedge between us painfully deeper, and for that reason I think I would have chosen to sit quietly but respectfully, and find a way to make my counter opinion known. But I don’t know for sure.

Before I get to that, however, I’d ask those who are somewhere on the spectrum between mildly upset to outraged to honestly apply the “stink test.” Had students walked out on President Obama, would you have had the same reaction, or might you have (at least silently) cheered, or at least defended, such an occurrence? Only you can answer that question and I don’t need to know it, no matter how you might rationalize it. Remember, the Notre Dame students can rationalize their actions, as well.

To the anecdote from my past:

“George Lincoln Rockwell, the (late, totally unlamented) American Nazi leader, ... claimed to not be a racist. He spoke at Hamilton College during my sophomore (and final) year there. His invitation, and presence, in 1967, was, to say the least, controversial. I’m not sure who thought having him give a speech was a good idea. There was some debate over boycotts, protests, etc. In the end, the semi-organized response was that we students would attend but sit quietly and then walk out at the end in silent protest.

I can’t tell you if that was really a brilliant idea or not. I like to think I’d do something, anything, different today. However, what happened made everything moot, because he revealed his true nature and sabotaged whatever goals he may have had without any help from us.

Rockwell was, like his idol, a pretty accomplished speaker. He had a rhythm and cadence that worked to dampen the resistance of his audience’s intellect. As I recall it, he was about a third of the way through his speech, trying to convince us that American Nazis were somehow different than the old-fashioned kind, and that they weren’t racist but just good Americans concerned about the deterioration of American life [please note this was almost 50 years ago and the theme still plays to certain audiences] the way the Founding Fathers had intended (conveniently forgetting how most of those same founders had been slave owners, of course). He was on a roll, gaining a modicum of momentum, when, as he talked about crime, he used the word “nigger.”

The change in atmosphere was palpable; I remember a collective gasp. He knew that whatever minor traction he had gained had immediately vanished. His car careening on the ice, he desperately tried to recover, to justify his use of, what even then, at least in educated circles, was an unacceptable racial slur. He failed miserably, in the same way so many others have failed. They fail because it’s not true; they are, in fact, bigots, who, while they may be able to single out, even perhaps admire an individual or group of individuals [who fit their world view], cannot, in general, see past the stereotypes that enslave their opinions.”

However, the same could be said about the reaction to Vice-president Pence. He is the former governor of the state which is the home to Notre Dame. He was a reasonable and appropriate choice as commencement speaker. By refusing to listen, those students failed to get past THEIR preconceived view of the man who might well become the next President of the United States (for better and worse, sooner or later). When we stop listening, or confine ourselves to the echo chamber of our own beliefs, we just perpetuate divisive stereotypes. That’s not good for any of us.

Don't Put Me In Coach; I'm Not Ready to Play

Ain’t no point in talkin’ when there’s nobody listenin’ so I’ll just stand aside  (apologies to Rod Stewart, Young Turks”)

I have avoided posting or sharing anything critical of President Trump for some time now. I do continue to read and react (mostly privately) to information I encounter in the media, both social and traditional (yes, I read magazines, newspapers, listen to the radio, even watch the occasional television news). After researching sources, I have also posted, and will continue to post, counterpoints to the simplistic memes and blatantly prejudiced and one-sided pieces that violate “the stink test,” as well as those that are either factually inaccurate or conveniently selective in the facts presented.

Nevertheless, I am refraining from joining the chorus of critics on social media. It’s not because I have any confidence in the President, or that I believe he has suddenly become a better person (see R•E•S•P•E•C•T); I do not. However, it’s not a fine line between singing in the choir or just waiting and watching, and until I can bring something to party other than other people’s chips and dip (tweets and shares), I am satisfied to not RSVP. When I do show up to the party (and it’s almost a dead certainty that I will, at some point), it likely will be with a dish (blog post) of my own creation, not something I found in the aisles of the internet.

The anti-Trump choir already has plenty of members; it doesn’t need another monotone to amplify the volume. I respect those who feel the need to speak out, to march, to protest in any number of ways. It is not just their right, but their duty. Perhaps I am even shirking that duty and abrogating my rights by sitting quietly (well, relatively quietly) on the sidelines, at least for the time being. Perhaps the voices are making a difference. If you believe the polls, Mr. Trump has the lowest approval rating in history, or at least since Abraham Lincoln. Therein lies the problem, however.

Mr. Trump’s supporters don’t believe the polls. They justify that stance by (correctly) pointing out that the polls also predicted an election day defeat, and, yet, here he is, the duly elected, 45th president of the United States. I could argue that the biggest positive to come out of this election is a healthy skepticism of polls. I might further argue that reliance on those polls might have cost Secretary Clinton the election. Next time people might actually think it important to vote, like Mr. Trump’s supporters (or Mrs. Clinton’s haters) did.

I am also striving, mightily and some would no doubt say with limited success, to be better than those who never gave President Obama a fair chance, including virtually every Republican in Congress, plus all sorts of people, apparently using Mr. Trump as a role model, who are revising their personal history and now claiming they wanted Mr. Obama to succeed; I remember your posts and memes, even if you don’t. I also remember the steady stream of vitriole from Fox News and Rush Limbaugh. Fair chance? Fat chance!

On our recent cruise with the 1%-ers my standard line was, “It’s premature to judge whether or not Trump will be a good president, but he is NOT a good person.” Having received but one (bizarre, IMO, but it came out of Facebook, so the standards are not particularly high {“He won, so he must be good,” while simultaneously telling me how awful Bill Clinton was.}) defense of his character, clearly that does not seem to matter to his supporters. And if that doesn’t matter, what is the point, because any judgment of the political ramifications of his presidency is pure speculation at this point in history.

For now, at least, I will continue to sit on the sidelines, not because I have any confidence whatsoever in this presidency, but because every time the choir sings, Mr. Trump’s supporters go into their bunkers, dig in their heels, and either fire back a defensive fusillade or put on their noise-cancelling headphones and listen to their own music. I think the chorus is self-defeating at this point; the Trumpet section, playing their own tune equally loudly, is going to have to come to the conclusion that this was not a good choice on their own. That won’t happen quickly, and, obviously, for some, not at all, ever, because clearly our tastes in music differ.

As difficult as it is for people like me to accept, there is absolutely nothing I can say, no facts I can share, no logic I can use that will make a difference. So here I sit. My only concern: Is my passive patience feeding the delusion of not just his supporters but the president himself that I have no worries about what the future holds? That is manifestly untrue (not even an alternate fact), but I also wonder, did the silent “good Germans” enable Adolph Hitler* and his consolidation of power? Although my strategy is not really as passive as it might appear, I do ask myself, “Am I now part of the problem by not being part of the solution?”  As always, I have more questions than answers.

*Am I equating Trump to Hitler? No, at least not yet. But there are parallels which I think supporters ignore at their, and our, peril.