“In American the quirk was that people were things...A slave girl squeezing out pups was like a mint, money that bred money.” Colson Whitehead
The United States is failing in so many ways that it’s mind-boggling. The slow-motion train wreck continues to unfold, one ghastly image heaped upon the last, from terrified migrant children to the idiotic Melania, to the scowling visage of Stephen Miller. This nightmare can’t be happening, and yet it is, the dark, slimy underbelly of America exposed for the world to see, though most nations have understood for decades the brutality of my country. Except for the Vietnam War in the 60’s and the Nixon Administration, I can’t remember the country being so divided against itself, so full of hatred and fear.
The Trump junta is crazy and cruel and venal, playing to a small base of the misguided who don’t know where to direct their ire. Trump’s diehard supporters continue to believe -- against all evidence -- that their man is working for them and that their circumstances will improve, as the Orange Menace promised. That they won’t is a foregone conclusion. Trump and his cronies and family members are making everything worse for the many, as I knew they would. Kleptocracies serve the very few, and only the very few. Wherever he goes, whatever he does, Trump spreads chaos and confusion. He clearly enjoys doing so. Immigration, trade, foreign policy -- there may be some twisted method to what Trump says and does -- but usually his actions seem driven by whim and pique and caprice.
I was listening to Thom Hartmann on the radio the other morning, on my way to the dojo for a kickboxing session, and he was talking about the many ways the people who own and run this country operate. They could never succeed by coming straight out about their aims to reduce regulation on corporations, slash corporate and personal income taxes, bankrupt the social safety net, and keep wages low. Wouldn’t fly and the owners know it. They have to wrap their true aims in claims about murderous immigrants, dangerous Muslims, welfare queens (who are invariably African-American), drugs and drug dealers, morale decay and decline whose only cure is personal responsibility (thus no welfare check without a job), and the Christian church, prayer in public schools, etc. We elect scads of politicians who spout these sentiments and then once in office, vote to cut regulations on corporations, slash taxes on the wealthy, gut social programs, and punish the poor. Bait and switch.
Short Takes:
Belgium and France are playing reasonably well in the World Cup, Mexico is through to the Round of 16, and Germany is back on track after some late heroics from Tony Kroos. Great, entertaining stuff. Brazil and Argentina are lurking, too. Portugal, as it did in the Euros in 2016, finds a way to advance. The number of Mexico supporters who travelled to Russia is astounding. How do they manage it?
This week I’m reading The Bonanza King by Gregory Crouch, Reporter by Seymour Hersh, The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead, and Rendezvous with Oblivion by Thomas Frank. And the Lady and the Monk by Pico Iyer. Some of these I will review for the Santa Barbara Independent, my other job that brings me a lot of satisfaction and allows me to meet interesting and accomplished people. The day job is a necessity and I’m OK at what I do, but books and ideas feed my soul.
Earlier this year the local media reported that the annual Solstice parade (one of SB’s major tourists draws) might not happen due to lack of money. The fires and floods, road closures, loss of life and general disruption had dried up donations. The parade came off yesterday, though the Solstice organization was literally pushing a giant black hat mounted on wheels up and down the street, while volunteers angled poles with bags tied on the end into the crowd, hoping to come away with a few bucks. Bills to pay and all that. It costs money to block off streets and pay the police and clean up the mess afterwards. It’s always difficult to tell at street level, but the parade didn’t appear as well attended as in the recent past. The marine layer was thick and the sun never broke through.
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