Stephen Colbert said this Tuesday night:
Category: Culture
-
No comments on The late-night election view
-
Army veteran Perfecto Sanchez:
I am fortunate to have been born in America and I am proud to have had the opportunity to serve my country in a time of war. In my opinion, there was no greater privilege than to lead some of our nations bravest and brightest Soldiers in combat. I am grateful to have served during a time in our nations history where men and women of the Armed Services were revered and respected. I am grateful for my loving family that supported me unconditionally. I am grateful for the experience. I am grateful for my friends. I am grateful for the random handshakes; the occasional free beer. I am grateful to be alive and I am forever grateful for my brothers that gave the ultimate sacrifice. I am grateful for a sound mind and body.
Besides the cliché question: ‘Have you ever killed anyone?’ (which from my experience has come from the most random of acquaintances) the one question I I’ve had the hardest time answering, which fittingly usually comes from the dearest of friends, is “how is it that you are normal?”
The first question I want to ask back is “What the hell is normal in this world and why would anyone want to be it?” But beyond that, back to the essence of the question: I am expected to assimilate to this perceived “normality” during my transition back into society, or, as the military would say, my ‘reintegration’ into the civilian world. Of the many theories I may have to answer the question at hand (and I must acknowledge the infinite combination of fortunate circumstances that have contributed to my version of “normal”) there is one theory that rises to the top.
As routine as brushing my teeth and as necessary as drinking water, for me, so was the act of maintaining a journal while I was in combat. I had always kept some version of a journal but never before as an act of survival. Regardless of how tired I was after a patrol or mission, regardless of my state of mind, I wrote in that thing. Doing so was just as important as maintaining equipment for reliability, exercising to maintain performance, or showering to maintain hygiene. I wrote to maintain mental sanity and sharpness, the most important and often over-looked form of personal maintenance in my opinion.
That book held every truth, feeling, fear, and reservation. My 1st patrol. The first time I met an Iraqi kid. The first time I was shot at. My 1st IED. The 1st time I pulled the trigger. The smell of fresh Iraqi bread. My ninth IED. I will never forget the first time one of my brothers died in my arms. The journal captured everything. It held the ugliness and beauty of war. Stories of a city, the beginning of the 2006 surge, the coming of age of young 2nd Lieutenant. As a 22 year-old Platoon Leader in charge of 34 men in high intensity combat in the most dangerous city in the world, it’s safe to say there was a lot that I needed to get out of my head.
Fast forward to two years ago. I was a few years removed from my active duty and well into my civilian reintegration. Everything was going along about as well as it could be. But then one night, I picked up that journal and did something unexpected.
I remember holding it in my hands. I remember reminiscing on the contents inside. And most importantly I remember not knowing what to do with all of the memories, emotions, and overwhelming content it held. After a moment of consideration, I decided to burn it. Why is a question that I never really tried to articulate until now. The truth is that it wasn’t an act of shame or regret, but one of freedom. My journal symbolized the functional acts of a combat Platoon leader and the emotional vomit of a confused kid. I would peruse it at times and it would bring me back to the long, hot, dusty patrols in Ramadi, Iraq. The transactional details of firefights, the emotions of losing friends, and beautiful excerpts of awe and respect of the men I served with. It was a finite story of specific time and space. And the truth I felt constrained by the contents because what the journal didn’t tell was the story of the lessons learned and memories made during the eight years following. For example, one of the lessons I learned in Iraq is that sometimes you get blown up. I learned you can sit there and cry about it, you can cower behind a rock, you can ask yourself the question, “what the fuck am I doing here?” What I learned is that sometimes bombs go off, but what matters most is what you do after. My journal was a symbol of bombs that went off and the years elapsed was the symbol of what you do after.
The act of burning my journal wasn’t an escape from the past, but a decision to enjoy and pursue the freedom to be found in the present. The pages may be gone but the memories never will be. I’m ok with that because it’s the memories that matter. It’s the actions that I take now, and not just those of the past, that define me. I am grateful for my memories. War didn’t teach me to hate, it taught me how to love and how to be. The pages were a symbol of a war and a man I once was and now the memories that I’ve kept have been turned into fuel for the man that I am.
I can now sum it all up in a simple sentence: It’s easy to die for something you believe in but it’s hard to live everyday of your life for that same belief.
I learned that I didn’t want to have just to have ‘survived’ the war but to be better because of it. For the Soldiers that I served with and the Soldiers that I lost, I live every single day for them and most importantly for myself. I live to be the best person I can be. When people ask me ‘”how are you normal?” I think back to that journal and how it helped me capture for a moment in time all the memories experienced, lessons learned, and people I’d met. I relish how fortunate and grateful I am for the role it played.
So now, with a little bit of distance between the end of one journal and the beginning of another, I smile. Both then and now, one of the things I am most grateful for is not being normal. And there is a very good chance if you’re reading this, you aren’t normal either, and to that I say “cheers.”
-
America is often described as a society without the Old World’s aristocracy. Yet we still have people who feel entitled to boss the rest of us around. The “elite” media, the political class, Hollywood and university professors think their opinions are obviously correct, so they must educate us peasants.
OK, so they don’t call us “peasants” anymore. Now we are “deplorables”—conservatives or libertarians. Or Trump supporters.
The elite has a lot of influence over how we see things.
It turns out that Trump used the same gestures and tone of speech to mock Ted Cruz and a general he didn’t like. It’s not nice, but it doesn’t appear directed at a disability.
I only discovered this when researching the media elite. Even though I’m a media junkie, I hadn’t seen the other side of the story. The elite spoon-fed me their version of events.
Another reason I don’t like Trump is that he supported the Iraq war—and then lied about that. Media pooh-bahs told me Trump pushed for the war years ago on The Howard Stern Show.
But then I listened to what Trump actually said.
“Are you for invading Iraq?” Stern asked.
Trump replied, “Yeah, I guess … so.” Later, on Neil Cavuto’s show, Trump said, “Perhaps (Bush) shouldn’t be doing it yet, and perhaps we should be waiting for the United Nations.” I wouldn’t call that “support”—the way NBC’s debate moderator and many others have.
I was stunned by how thoroughly the media have distorted Trump’s position. That’s a privilege you get when you’re part of the media elite: You get to steer the masses’ thinking.
At the second debate, we all know that Trump walked over to Hillary Clinton’s podium, as if he was “stalking Ms. Clinton like prey,” said The New York Times. CNN said, “Trump looms behind Hillary Clinton at the debate.”
Afterward, Clinton went on Ellen DeGeneres’ show and said Trump would “literally stalk me around the stage, and I would just feel this presence behind me. I thought, ‘Whoa, this is really weird.’”
But it was a lie. Watch the video. Clinton walked over to Trump’s podium. Did the mainstream media tell you that? No.
The ruling class has its themes, and it sticks to them.
When Clinton wore white to a debate, the Times called the color an “emblem of hope” and a Philadelphia Inquirerwriter used words like “soft and strong … a dream come true.” But when Melania Trump wore white, that same writer called it a “scary statement,” as if Melania Trump’s white symbolized white supremacy, “another reminder that in the G.O.P. white is always right.”
Give me a break.
The ruling class decides which ideas are acceptable, which scientific theories to believe, what speech is permitted.
In the book Primetime Propaganda, Ben Shapiro writes that the Hollywood ruling class calls conservatives “moral scum.”
He says, “If you’re entering the industry, you have to keep (your beliefs) under wraps because nobody will hire you … they just assume you’re a bad person.”
They won’t tell you why you weren’t hired. They just tell you, “You weren’t right for the part,” explains Shapiro. “Talent is subjective, which means that it’s pretty easy to find an excuse not to call back the guy who voted for George W. Bush.”
Years ago, the ruling class was the Church. Priests said the universe revolved around Earth. Galileo was arrested because he disagreed.
Today, college lefties, mainstream media, Hollywood and the Washington establishment have replaced the Church, but they are closed-minded dogmatists, too.
We are lucky that now we have a lot of information at our fingertips. We don’t need to rely on the ruling class telling us what to believe. We can make up our own minds.
-

There we were, 24 years and an hour of so ago, the media geek and the returned Peace Corps volunteer.
Twenty-four years, three children, four dogs and four cats later …


Players at Alone for Christmas. 
Michael the potential future firefighter. 
Dylan plays trombone. 
Shaena the violin player. 
This is Leo and Max “playing,” not an argument between the human siblings. 
Oskar and Luna couldn’t care less, unless they’re hungry, which is only in the a.m. or p.m. Five years ago I wrote this on the occasion of our 19th wedding anniversary.
A few things have changed, like jobs and address. We also have three teenagers in the house, including the child who is not a chronological teenager. Other than that, you can probably add five years to everything listed in there. (The march of time!)
Here’s what has not changed: I still love my wife.
-
Rick Esenberg writes about a comment from one of my favorite Democrats, Milwaukee County Sheriff David Clarke, beginning with some music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFvtMp7hRF8
The Rolling Stones released Street Fighting Man in 1968, while the world what seemed to be gripped by revolutionary fervor. That fervor would soon die out and, even Mick Jagger seemed to recognize that it would never go far. His revolutionary narrator was not about taking control of anything but rather someone whose name was called “disturbance.” He would “shout and scream” and “kill the king” and “rail at all his servants.” But it seemed like an impotent rage. Nothing would change.
Over the weekend, Milwaukee County Sheriff David Clarke tweeted out what some took to be his own call for fighting in the streets. Accompanied by a picture of a bunch of CPAs trying to pose as an angry mob, the most frequently cited Clarke tweet read:It’s incredible that our institutions of gov, WH, Congress, DOJ, and big media are corrupt & all we do is bitch. Pitchforks and torches time
There were other tweets referencing “pitchforks and torches” because, if twitter is about anything at all, it is about getting the right slogan. The legacy media, of course, guppied on this, expressing consternation that a law enforcement officer would support — not to put too fine a point on it — breaking the law.
Was that what Clarke intended? Twitter is the ultimate in post-modern communication because its brevity often forces the reader to construct the meaning of the text, but, of course, it isn’t. His subsequent teasing about the sale of garden implements at Home Depot immediately suggested that he was speaking metaphorically. On Monday, Clarke wrote a blog post confirming that he was speaking in hyperbole.
But let’s put Clarke and his tweets aside. What about that metaphor? Is it really “pitchfork and torches” time? As in 1968, there certainly seem to be people who believe so. This is, we are told, a “Flight 93 election.”
The anger among people on the Republican side — often directed at other conservatives who can’t quite get their heads around a Trump presidency — is bitter and consuming. At a Trump rally in Green Bay Monday night, a putatively conservative crowd chanted “Paul Ryan sucks” — turning against one of the brightest lights in our movement because he is now less than enthusiastic about a Republican nominee who is not conservative and who has arguably become toxic to the Republican cause.
The willingness of some conservatives to not merely support Trump as the lesser to two very bad evils but to tie themselves into knots to pretend that he isn’t who he seems to be suggests that this election has become political total war. There are no rules.Indeed, Trump’s very presence on the ballot seems like the act of an angry mob. Whether or not conservatives should rally around him in the general election, the very idea that Donald Trump ought to have been nominated is an idea whose name is called disturbance. It certainly seems like an act of either desperation or nihilism — the electoral equivalent of burning downtown Ferguson. It was less a rational decision than a collective tantrum.Should we be tearing ourselves apart in this way? Whether or not we support Trump, do we really have to abandon our principles in order to support the Republican nominee?
I fully appreciate what is at stake with a Clinton presidency. The Supreme Court and lower federal courts, the further consolidation of power in Washington and the executive, the administrative imposition of the goals of the cultural left and erosion of freedom of speech and religion — all of these will continue. It is only the threat of this type of damage that can make a vote for Trump conceivable.
But there is danger in exaggerated rhetoric and in the GOP’s ongoing fratricide. The danger is not, as the mainstream media and their “serious people” would have it, that there will be actual violence. The danger is to a conservative movement that is defined by such hyperbole and self-consuming rage. In short, we are hurting ourselves.I don’t want to be angry. I want to win. I want to advance conservative ideas. Unfortunately, winning — and for that matter “conservative ideas” — are precisely what nominating Donald Trump was not about. This has left us all with a conundrum. Whether winning nevertheless means continuing to support his flailing campaign (2016 is not the last election) is a far more difficult question than many of us recognize. Do conservatives support the GOP’s our despicable and not conservative — but perhaps not left wing — nominee to avoid the election of their corrupt — and left wing — nominee?
However you answer that question, rhetorically storming the barricades is not an exercise of power but a confession of weakness. Forming a circular firing squad in which we attack some of the best among us is self destructive. We “scream and shout” because we believe there is nothing else we can do. It may feel good to indulge in white hot anger — to call Paul Ryan a RINO and boycott Charlie Sykes as a “liberal” — but it’s straight up nonsense. It does not reflect reality — things are bad but not that bad — and destroying the village to save the village rarely makes sense.
Self righteous outrage sets us against ourselves. And it marginalizes us because — just like in 1968 — most people do not want fighting in the streets — metaphorical or otherwise.To paraphrase John Lennon from that same year, “we’re all doing what we can.”
Oh, he means …
This year is a perfect example of the fact that government is far too large and therefore the stakes are too high in elections, and one wonders what it will take — assassination(s)? Riot(s) after Nov. 8? — to make people realize that. When government and politics become careers, government grows. When government can close a business and take away people’s livelihood, government is too big.
Everything bad happening in politics today is the result of the excessive size of government, including (some people’s opinion of) excessive campaign spending and efforts to bring in donations, the increasing nastiness of campaigns, people from the same party turning on each other, people from opposite parties turning on each other … the list could really depress you if I went on.
-
Craig Shirley and Frank Donatelli recall …
In 1987, when he was informed that Democratic presidential aspirant Gary Hart was accused of extramarital activities, President Ronald Reagan reportedly quipped, “Boys will be boys. But boys will not be president.” In all matters, Reagan was wise.
For years, we have looked with skepticism at political operatives who claim to know what Ronald Reagan would have done in any given situation. The truth is, nobody can know. All we can do is study him. But what we do know is that Reagan was full of grace and charm and kindness, and it’s good to recall that as this sad campaign season winds down.
America’s 40th president was an essentially decent man. When Nancy Reynolds, a Sacramento press aide and close friend, began working for Reagan when he was governor of California, he had a heck of a time getting used to the idea of going through the doorway in front of a woman. When Ms. Reynolds, holding the door for the governor, questioned why, Reagan replied, “My mother told me ladies go through the door first.”
When writing in his private diary, Reagan could not even bring himself to write “hell.” Instead, he wrote “h–l.”
In 1983, two years after John Hinckley Jr. shot the president in the chest, Reagan quietly tried to reach out to the would-be assassin, not with a presidential pardon but an act of private Christian forgiveness. He was only dissuaded when doctors said the mentally disturbed young man would misunderstand Reagan’s gesture. Still, Reagan prayed for him.
Reagan was once caught on a hot microphone, although what he said seems quaint, almost genteel, by today’s standards. When he was asked for a sound check during the taping of a 1984 radio commentary, the president joshed, “My fellow Americans, I’m pleased to tell you today that I’ve signed legislation that will outlaw Russia forever. We begin bombing in five minutes.” The technicians all laughed, but soon after, liberal elites came down with manufactured vapors.
Over the course of his life, the Gipper sent thousands of letters to fans, friends and even opponents, many of whom remember his personal grace. During his stay in the hospital, recovering from the assassination attempt, nurses were astonished to find Reagan one day on his hands and knees, cleaning up some water he had spilled. The leader of the free world was wiping the floor so no one else would have to do it.
Reagan was insulted plenty of times over the course of his career, burned in effigy, sworn against, cursed and more—but in each instance, he turned away the invective with a smile and a quip. He was tough on issues, but rarely people, and certainly not personally. He wasn’t mean and didn’t engage in ad hominem attacks.
Reagan did call out extremists in the conservative ranks. He supported William F. Buckley Jr., who led the purge of the conspiracy-minded John Birch Society and spoke out against anti-Semitic elements in the conservative moment. He opposed the Briggs Initiative, a 1978 California ballot measure aimed at banning homosexuals and gay-rights supporters from working at public schools.
Reagan believed in the politics of addition, not subtraction. He looked for ways to add to his support by exuding optimism and preaching growth policies. He wanted to unify, not divide. At the Detroit Republican Convention in 1980, he made an open appeal to Democrats and Independents to join his “community of shared values.” That night, he also cited Franklin Roosevelt—to a hall full of Republicans.
This wasn’t some campaign facade that Reagan had acquired for political reasons. He had always had it. In his famous 1964 speech, “A Time for Choosing,” Reagan paraphrased the admonition that Barry Goldwater had given to his own son: “There is no foundation like the rock of honesty and fairness, and when you begin to build your life on that rock, with the cement of the faith in God that you have, then you have a real start.”
In one of his final public speeches, at the 1992 Republican convention, Reagan said that he hoped history “will record that I appealed to your best hopes, not your worst fears. To your confidence rather than your doubts.” He undoubtedly did.
-
Ripon College Prof. Brian Smith:
Glenn Beck said recently in an interview on “Meet the Press” that he was gravely concerned about whether the new president could govern effectively. How can we all come together, he asked, after such a bitter and divisive election?
The divisiveness has gotten even more extreme due to recent claims by several women that they were molested by Donald Trump, and in light of the Wikki leaks of purported emails by Hilary Clinton indicating that what candidates say in private may be different from their public positions.
Will 40% of the electorate whose candidate loses say, “That is not my president”? Will the Congress continue to be gridlocked no matter how many seats change hands? Will representatives in the losing party announce from the beginning that they will fight to make the winner a one-term president and do all they can to block his or her agenda before even considering it?
The percentage won’t be 40 percent, it will be more than half. Hillary Clinton seems unlikely to get half of the popular vote. (The rest being Hillary’s “deplorables” and others.) Donald Trump certainly will not get half of the popular vote. So more than half of the electorate will be disenfranchised after Nov. 8. And as for the losing party, their purpose to defeat the winner will be just like Republicans in 2009, Democrats in 2001, Republicans in 1993, Democrats in 1981, Republicans in 1977 … you get the picture. Since the first purpose of politics is to win, and politics is a zero-sum game, Smith’s previous paragraphi is a seriously naïve point of view.
This divisiveness has very serious implications for the future of the nation. Many commentators have not been addressing this concern in the heat of a closely contested and nasty campaign, but it is a very critical question with far more lasting effects than who wins on Nov. 8.
When asked at the end of his remarks what was the solution, Beck responded by saying reconciliation among citizens, beginning at the local level.
Here is where the moral and religious leaders of the country have a crucial role to play over the next several weeks, before and after the election. They have the moral stature to speak credibly to our “better angels” and to remind us that we all are citizens of the same country with a responsibility to come together and treat one another with respect.
Respect, of course, is a two-way street. Opponents of Barack Obama can cite a long list of things that have gotten worse in this country since Obama took office, including Obama’s rhetoric against his political opponents. Hillary has doubled down on this (“deplorables”?), and has not apologized for anything she’s said and done. Trump has done the same thing to his political opponents, including those within his supposed own party. Exactly how do you get past that — an apology? Saying you really didn’t mean it?
Beyond the rhetoric, the Democrats and Republicans (sometimes but not always including Trump) can’t even agree on what the problems are (for instance, police shootings), and if you can’t agree on the problems you’re wasting breath talking about solutions.
Some clergy already have taken sides in the partisan struggle, appearing at party conventions or endorsing particular candidates at rallies. Others participated in Pulpit Freedom Sunday recently, calling for an end on IRS restrictions on clergy from endorsing candidates without losing tax exempt status for their churches.
No matter what one thinks of these tactics, there is a larger and more important role for religious leaders of all faiths to play at this critical time. They need to speak to the deeper moral bonds we as a people share with one another and that protect the vitality of our republic.
The Founding Fathers wanted a separation of church and state. They also wanted religion to play an important role in educating citizens with a moral conscience so that they could work for common goals in society. Without that foundation, they knew the new republic would not survive.
We are at a critical moment in our history. Some feel we have not been this divided politically since the eve of the Civil War. It may not be that dire, but many certainly have lost almost total respect for those who disagree with them politically, and this bodes harm for effective government after the election.
Again, respect is a two-way street. Hillary’s “deplorables” were described by Obama eight years before as “They get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren’t like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations.”
Why not a Pulpit of Reconciliation weekend in the next few weeks in which clergy of all faiths remind us that we have far more in common than what divides us and that respectful dialogue is needed to keep us together as we face a challenging future?
This is not a violation of the clergy’s role. It is fulfilling clergy’s responsibility to the nation as moral leaders, a role our Founding Fathers expected of them.
Scripture teaches us, “Where there is no vision, the people perish” (Proverbs 29:18). Let us hear from religious leaders some vision right now, some hope for political reconciliation.
Ironically, both major candidates for president are not particularly religious. That should make a bigger difference to Republicans than Democrats.
-
You know what we need right now? A trip to the mall, not even to buy, but to observe and learn. See how people engage with each other. Observe how they coordinate their movements in the public spaces without direction. Appreciate the kindness that salespeople show for customers whom they do not know, and how this ethos of mannerly sociability extends out to the hallways and the entire space. Consider the complexities of production that make all of this available to you without mandates or impositions.
Or perhaps we need a walk in the park while playing Pokemon GO, meeting new people and laughing with them. It’s fascinating how the mobile app creates a digital reality that sits atop the real one, and how we can all experience this technological marvel together. Strangers are given an excuse to speak and get to know each other.
Really, just any visit to an awesome commercial center, teeming with life and full of human diversity, would be palliative. Or maybe it is a visit to a superstore to observe the products, the service, energy, the benevolence, of the commercial space. We can meet people, encounter their humanity, revel in the beauty and bounty of human life. Or it could be your local watering hole with its diverse cast of characters and complicated lives that elude political characterization.
Also thrilling is to attend a concert and see how the arts and music can serve as a soundtrack to the building of community feeling. With public performance, there are no immigration restrictions to the category of “fan.” We can sing, clap, and dance to shared experience, and everyone is invited in.
And while in these places, we need to reflect on the meaning of the existence of these spaces and what they reveal about ourselves and our communities. Here you will see something wonderful, invigorating, thrilling, magical: human beings, with all our imperfections and foibles, can get along. We can provide value to each other and find value in each other. We can cooperate to our mutual betterment.
These spaces are all around us. And here politics don’t exist, mercifully. No one will scream at you or threaten you for failing to back the right candidate or for holding the wrong ideology or being part of the wrong demographic or religion. Here we can rediscover the humanity in us all and the universal longing for free and flourishing lives.
In this extremely strange election year, escaping the roiling antagonism and duplicity of politics, and finding instead the evidence all around us that we can get along, however imperfectly, might actually be essential for a healthy outlook on life.
Politics Makes a Mess of Our Minds
Some startling new evidence has emerged about the effect of this year’s election on the psychological well being of the US population. The American Psychological Association has released an early report on its annual survey and found that more than half the population reports being seriously stressed, anxious, alarmed, depressed, and even frightened by the election. Essentially, the constant coverage, dominating the news every minute of every day, is freaking people out.
I totally get this. I’ve felt it – some nagging sense that things are not quite right, that the lights in the room are dimming, that life is not quite as hopeful and wonderful as it usually is.
I’ve regarded this as my own fault; for the first time I’ve followed this election very closely. I made this awful bed and now I’m lying in it. The message that politics beats into our heads hourly is that your neighbor might be your enemy, and that the realization of your values requires the crushing of someone else’s.
That’s a terrible model of human engagement to accept as the only reality. It is demoralizing, and I’ve felt it this year more than ever. But everyone I know says the same thing, even those who are trying their best to tune it out. Now we have evidence that vast numbers are affected. It’s one thing for politics to mess up the world around us, but it’s a real tragedy if we let politics mess up our minds, spirits, and lives.
Why Is this Happening?
Carl von Clausewitz is believed to have said that “war is merely the continuation of policy by other means.” It may be more accurate to say that politics is the continuation of warfare by other means. There are winners who get the power and what comes with it, and losers who forfeit power and pay. This isn’t like business competition in which my win only affects your future revenue stream. In politics, my win comes at your expense through the violence of state action. That’s what gives this moment prescience.
We all have some sense, whether true or not, that so much is at stake. Then you look at the epic unpopularity of the candidates and it is truly amazing. If the Republican weren’t running, the Democrat would be the most despised candidate for the presidency in American history. Then you add to that the beyond-belief loathing of the GOP candidate and you really do gain a sense of the seeming hopelessness of it all.
And talk about divisive! Look at these angry rallies, the screaming for destruction of the enemy. And this has spilled over to social media. We are all losing friends. People we used to hang out with we no longer speak to. Whole population groups are feeling afraid of what’s coming – and this is true of everyone no matter their race, religion, or gender. Predictions of the coming doom are everywhere around us.
And there is a sense in which they are all correct. As Bastiat explained, the state turns people against each other, shattering the harmony of interests that normally characterizes human life. Watching the state’s political gears in motion is an ongoing exhibition of low-grade warfare that seems to demand that we fight or take cover. The shrillest voices, the meanest temperaments, and the most amoral plotters are the ones who dominate, while virtues such as wisdom, charity, and justice are blotted out.
Is it any wonder that this is not exactly uplifting of the human spirit?
The Lessons
What if the whole of life worked like the political sector? It would be unrelenting misery, with no escape, ever. As it is, this is not the case. We should be thankful for it, and remember that the thing that makes life wonderful, beautiful, and loving is not crushing your enemy with a political weapon but rather the gains that come from turning would-be enemies into friends in an environment of freedom.
In these environments, we have the opportunity to discover a different model of human engagement. By letting people choose, innovate, associate, and cooperate – to do anything peaceful – we discover proof that human beings can self-organize. We can get along. We can build wealth. We can create institutions that reward goodness, charity, justice, and decency. We can serve ourselves and others at the same time.
A slogan passed around some years ago in academic circles was that “the personal is the political.” That sounds like hell on earth. The slogan should be flipped and serve as a warning to all of us: whatever you politicize will eventually invade your personal life. We should not allow this to happen. The less that life is mediated by political institutions, the more the spontaneous and value-creating impulses in our nature come to the fore.
I’m convinced that we all want this. We don’t really want to live amidst anger or revel in the destruction of our enemies. Hate is not a sustainable frame of mind. We intuitively understand that when we use politics to hurt our neighbor, we are also hurting ourselves. We are being dragged down instead of being lifted up.
We owe the good life to the remaining liberties we have to discover the possibility of genuine human community all around us. Without liberty, the world would sink into a pit of mutual recrimination and violence. Human beings thrive in the absence of politicization. Discovering that great truth is one way to avoid the mire into which the politics of our time seeks to plunge us.
-
Kurt Schlichter writes about this guy:

So, that man in “Freedom of Speech,” the famous Norman Rockwell painting of an America exercising one of the liberals’ least favorite rights, stands up in 2016 to say his peace and … it will not end well. You see, to liberals, what our guy has to say isn’t important – what’s important to liberals is to shut him up. It’s to punch down upon him with cheap mockery so he’s beaten into submission. It’s to use shame to silence him and every other irredeemable deplorable in order to consolidate their progressive death grip upon America’s throat.
This will not end well.
See, a republic with democratic features like the United States can’t function without the possibility of discussion. It needs citizens to have the ability to rationally debate the issues, to be heard so that they can perceive the process as fair and one where they are equal participants. But that’s exactly what liberals, with tactics like political correctness, Jon Stewarty snark, and the outright lies of their vinyl-body-suited mainstream media chorus, seek to prevent. Discussion can only exist where customs and norms demand that all voices be heard, that the points of the opposition are at least characterized as something resembling what they are, and that no one is excluded from participation by the fact that they possess views of which the majority – or a powerful minority – disapproves. But instead of that, today we have a liberal elite that gleefully bludgeons people with opposing views into silence, and then pats itself on its collective back for its enlightenment.
This will not end well.
Take our guy in the painting. He stands and says, “Well, I don’t know about this idea of letting men into ladies rooms with little girls.” And, of course, the freakshow left doesn’t address the very real problems that come with allowing grown men into restrooms with little girls. Facts merely enrage them. So there won’t be any discussion of the problem of weirdos and perverts taking advantage of this idiotic liberal nonsense that this normal guy – like any normal person – would worry about. No, instead he’ll get berated by some screaming genderfreak activist with a half-shaved head and looming daddy issues bellowing “Hate criminal!” and demanding our guy be fired from his job down at the plant for felony wrongthinking.
Then maybe whoever that loser is who replaced Jon Stewart, that pioneer of E-Z snark masquerading as comedy, will get a clip of our guy speaking and play it on his show. There’s nothing funnier than a rustic presuming to speak out as if his views matter! Then the host will make a funny face – I mean, how can anyone be so insane and stupid to think that maybe having grown men lurking around little girls as they use the potty could go wrong? – and that goofy smirk will cue the skinny-jeaned audience to go into paroxysms of laughter. Not laughter because it’s funny or clever, mind you, but laughter that demonstrates social solidarity among the kind of smug people who drink pretentious, awful craft beers and think the “P” in “IPA” stands for “pumpkin spice.”
Maybe John Oliver will do a 10 minute rant about him and how Jesus probably told him that dudes shouldn’t be alone with little girls in toilets. Maybe Samantha Bee will scrunch up her tired, sour apple doll face and point out how this guy probably didn’t even go to Yale and where did he get that jacket anyway, at Wal-Mart?And maybe our guy will sit down and hold his tongue. And then maybe he’ll remember how he went to a Tea Party to politely register his dissent and how he was dumped on for daring to try and be heard. Then maybe he’ll vote for Donald Trump because maybe if he’s a little louder and a little ruder then perhaps someone will listen to him about not turning his little girl’s bathroom into a social experiment, about the illegal aliens like the one who ran into his truck and didn’t have insurance, and about the rumor going around that his job down at the plant may be moving to Juarez next year.
But then, those concerns apparently aren’t worthy of attention. The news covers, day in and day out, some overeating foreigner and drug lord baby mama who Donald Trump was mean to a couple decades ago, but no reporter ever asks our guy about his problems. And they don’t merely ignore him. They come after him, jamming things down his throat like gender neutral bathrooms and murderous Muslim refugees and Wall Street scams that mean he gets about .001% interest on that money he saved just like the experts told him to. And he’s expected to just take it.
This will not end well.
Our guy was in Fallujah as a Marine, and when he wakes up shivering and calls the VA for help no one answers. President Faily McWorsethancarter hasn’t had time to fix that travesty in eight years, yet he somehow found plenty of time to party at the White House with Leonardo DiCaprio.
Leonardo has a jet and the president’s private email. Our guy has an F-150 with a smashed-in quarter panel and a busy signal. When he dares complain, they call him stupid, racist, and obsolete. He’s struggling to pay his mortgage yet they call him “privileged” because his great-great-great-great-great grandfather came from Glasgow. And he takes it, for now.
But this will not end well.
When the combined weight of the D.C. establishment and the media and Hollywood defeats Donald Trump, progressives face a decision point. They can change their ways and return America’s culture to how it was, where everyone gets a chance to participate, or they can double down on the new rules of mockery and exclusion to consolidate their own power.
But they are likely too foolish to realize the danger to our country as we know it, too blindly confident that they can play by one set of rules while forcing everyone else to play by another. Instead of seeking unity, they will do the opposite – more exclusion, more ostracism from self-determination for the people they consider unworthy. Despite a narrow win, they will claim a massive victory over people like our guy, a mandate to complete the subjugation of Americans like him. After all, he’s deplorable. He’s irredeemable. He’s unworthy of respect. His interests are unworthy of representation. The elite will heave a sigh of relief that the threat has passed, that with Felonia von Pantsuit in the Oval Office our guy and those like him can be safely ignored.
But this will not end well.
Our guy and millions upon millions of others will get angry. Not merely miffed as with the Tea Party, not a bit perturbed as with Trump. Angry. Coldly furious not only that they have been exiled from their own republic but because they have been relentlessly insulted, abused, humiliated – and forced to pay for it all.
Because the elite will have made it clear that the system really is rigged against those outside their caste, and that there is no way for people like our guy to be heard merely by trying to be part of the existing political system. And instead of meekly submitting, millions and millions of people may begin to look to step outside of the system as currently constituted.
And this will not end well.
-
My high school political science teacher posted on his blog:
In “A Cheap, Easy High—With No Side Effects” Patrick Kurp refers to Terry Teachout’s “post devoted to the music he listens to whenever he feels ‘the urgent need to upgrade my mood.’ He writes, ‘I’ve always found music to be one of the most potent means of attitude adjustment known to man,’ and his experience jibes with mine. …. Music’s impact is prompt and unambiguous. In contrast, literature is an oral ingestion of medicine compared to the intravenous immediacy of music.” Kurp goes on to list some of the works of literature that invariably lift his mood. For instance:- Most anything by…P.G. Wodehouse
- Thomas Traherne’s Centuries of Meditation
- Tristram Shandy, especially the scenes with Uncle Toby and the Widow Wadman
- The essays of Joseph Epstein and Guy Davenport
- Jonathan Swift’s “A Description of a City Shower” and “The Lady’s Dressing Room”
Teachout’s list of music that provides “a cheap, easy high” is long. A few of the many he listed:
- Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Lookin’ Out My Back Door”
- The Band’s “Up on Cripple Creek”
- Elgar’s Cockaigne Overture
- Gershwin’s An American in Paris
- Copland’s “Buckaroo Holiday” (from Rodeo)
- The Who’s “Shakin’ All Over” (from Live at Leeds)
- Sidney Bechet’s 1932 recording of “Maple Leaf Rag”
- Mendelssohn’s Rondo capriccioso
- The first movement of Mozart’s A Major Piano Concerto, K. 488
- Steely Dan’s “My Old School”
- Flatt and Scruggs’ “Farewell Blues”
- Bill Monroe’s “Rawhide”
- The first movement of Sibelius’ Fifth Symphony
- Johann Strauss’s Fledermaus Overture
- Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Three little maids from school are we” (from The Mikado)
- Pretty much anything by Count Basie, Erroll Garner, Fats Waller, Haydn, or John Philip Sousa
In case you haven’t heard of them, I linked to them up to the last bullet point:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_4R43_bFxs
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eVXalu0p1wo
(Side note: A lot of Wisconsin high schools use “On Wisconsin,” when they could use a Sousa march as their fight song.)
Teachout also listed (and I have linked to):
- Stan Kenton’s recording of Gerry Mulligan’s “Young Blood”
- Wild Bill Davison’s 1943 recording of “That’s A-Plenty” (turned up very loud)
- The John Kirby Sextet’s “It Feels So Good”
- Buddy Rich’s 1966 live recording of “Love for Sale”
- Booker T. and the MGs’ “Hip Hug-Her”
- Johnny Cash’s “Hey Porter”
- Jelly Roll Morton’s “Wolverine Blues” (with Baby and Johnny Dodds)
- The Dixieaires’ “Joe Louis Was a Fighting Man”
- Donald Fagen’s “Morph the Cat”
- Doc Watson’s “Let the Cocaine Be”
- Sergio Mendes’ 1966 recording of “Mais Que Nada” (not the icky hip-hop remake, eeuuww!)
- The Dominoes’ “Sixty Minute Man”
- Stephen Sondheim’s “A Weekend in the Country” (from A Little Night Music)
- Frank Sinatra’s “Witchcraft”
- Walton’s Crown Imperial (as played by Frederick Fennell and the Eastman Wind Ensemble)
- Stan Getz and Bob Brookmeyer’s “Open Country”
- R.E.M.’s “Radio Free Europe”
- The Beatles’ “Revolution”
- Django Reinhardt’s “Swing 42”
- The sound of Louis Armstrong’s voice