Sweatin’ to the Oldies

Bernie Sanders is 74; Donald Trump is 69; Hillary Rodham Clinton is 68. I wish I had a fraction of their energy, and I am significantly younger, although no youngster myself. But I’m really sweating this election.

Besides their ages, this election cycle is fraught with a “Back to the Future” sense of direction for our country. The Trump and Sanders campaigns have motivated followers to get excited about undoing. The Clinton Campaign has been rather uninspiring, but has been attempting to veer left, while remaining centered on the importance of strengthening our institutions, rather than upending them.

The Trump and Sanders campaigns feel unconventional, not just because no one initially expected either one to go to the Conventions, but because they have aroused the energy of anger and outsider status, ironically of mostly white males, who seem to relish the “outsider” candidate who says what they are thinking, and maintains a steady sense of chutzpah.

And HRC….she maintains that her entire life has been chutzpah; the boldness to work hard and achieve in various leadership positions, and get knocked down over and over, and keep pushing forward. The media has not captured inspiring snippets of her. Mostly, she’s talked about in the media as being disliked and around forever, which has become a serious negative in this cycle.

Her quality of being guarded tends to fuel suspicion, and of course, she’s had a history of cozying up to the rich and powerful, and then having a private e-mail server as Secretary of State. None of which is unique to her, or illegal; just not okay either. These issues that continue to plague her feed the narrative of the Clinton Chutzpah (as opposed to her own lifetime of experience and service)— not the audacity of hope or of dismantling the status quo, but of getting away with what they can at the time.

Both Hilary and Bill Clinton have great intellects, yet do stupid stuff all the time. Both Hillary and Bill Clinton can be shrewd and competent, and create long lasting alliances across demographics and across the world, yet still manage to generate ire at home. Hillary Clinton, unlike Bill, does not seem to enjoy the political campaigning, but she has created an amazing resume that has her in most ways uniquely and historically qualified to become POTUS.

But in 2016, experience is the enemy. It’s a narrative of what is wrong with US, and although 3 candidates who occupy all the air time are all Senior Citizens, this country seems to be suffering from Senioritis. Enough with the plodding along and policy that can be worked on by those with different ideas.

In fact, the parties themselves are in disarray. Will we end up with the party of the affected and the party of the disaffected? It’s getting to be more perspiration than inspiration. Being inspired by being disaffected and angry is a dangerous path.

So is the only way that these old timers can inspire is to invoke old stories and old grievances? Somehow, it’s been a sweat inducing exercise thus far.

Outthink Disruption

I recently saw a Facebook ad for IBM Analytics with the slogan “Outthink Disruption”. What a perfect tagline for our current culture of politics, and our culture and our politics. Forget distractions; we live in the age of disruptions, as though that’s a good thing.

Those who seek to disrupt feel that they are not served by the status quo. Disruption may be effective and even appropriate. Altering or even destroying the structure of something may be important to contributing to or saving lives. Or, such a disturbance may merely interrupt or cause more problems.

When I saw the tagline “Outthink Disruption”, Donald Trump had just become the presumptive nominee of the GOP (a nostalgic name for what is not very related to the modern Republican Party). Certainly Trump has been a Disruption, and he encourages his Trumpeters to Disrupt.
One could say that Bernie Sanders is also advocating Disruption, although without the mishugas, obnoxiousness,low brow-ness, narcissism, insults, hate, misogyny, racism, jingoism, xenophobia, or winking at violence.

The momentum for Disruption is palpable, but we have been living through 8 years of thoughtless disruption that has yielded frustration left and right. Disruption can’t be the goal. We have to Outthink Disruption. Progress occurs incrementally, and often through compromise—something that our culture  (or politics) doesn’t embrace. We expect instantaneous results—disruption—and we tout our way of life as the ultimate because we can do whatever we want in an instant.

Except we can’t. Not without ramifications.

As a culture, we have become hateful—not only of those we fear might seek to destroy us, but hateful of ourselves, and we are destroying ourselves. The vitriol that occurs during Primary season, and through the general election, seems to heighten each cycle. I’m not sure if we are really more hateful than ever, or that hate has a YUUUUUUUGE platform. Everyone yells and posts and overexposes and then stays within one’s own social and anti-social media bubble, condensing the ire and agreement.

I’ve heard all sorts of statistics, (which I take with a grain of salt), about how much hate there is for Trump and for Hillary. HATE. Hate is very powerful. It envelops and distorts. It is irrational. It is toxic. I hate hate. I have certainly felt hate. The fire of hate fuels the ego’s sense of what is right. But I don’t want to hate people. It’s actually too easy. I hate intolerance. I hate plenty of ideas and ways of being. Hate can lead to dangerous disruption—not merely shaking things up or tweaking the status quo.

We have to Outthink Disruption, which means examining our love of hate (and our uncomfortableness with thinking outside our comfort zones).

When I saw the tagline “Outthink Disruption” for IBM analytics, I thought it was a clever, albeit almost 20 year late, response to Apple’s “Think Different” campaign. “Think Different” was actually a response to IBM’s motto “Think”. And here we are in 2016….

Can we Outthink Disruption?

The Man Who Sold the World

Michael Stipe:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hF2ed7ouU3o

Nirvana: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fregObNcHC8

Lulu: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV8ywV7KwSI

David Bowie:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HSH–SJKVQQ

 

 
Over the last 24 hours, I have been inundated with videos of Trump and Stipe, with headlines about the most incredible audio from these men.

Trump managed to suggest that women who get abortions should be punished, and when the backlash was immediate and fierce, he backtracked and suggested that doctors who perform abortions should be punished, not the women who undergo the procedure.

Even abortion foes reacted strongly against Trump’s comment. John Kasich tweeted: “Of course women shouldn’t be punished for having an abortion.” This from a staunch opponent of abortions. Really? Since when have women who are pro-choice, much less suffered through an abortion, not been punished? Granted, the punishment is not prison or a fine, but the endless shaming and aggression against those who are pro-choice has always trumped (pun intended) compassion or concern or even curiosity about alternatives.

Whether Trump’s latest belch will affect his polling remains to be seen. After all, he’s the man who sold the world. He says what some think. He’s a zillionaire, so he must be the most capable and smartest in the world. He wrote The Art of the Deal. He’s bought and sold so much, you won’t believe how much. He’s the man who sold the world.
As all the media, social and anti-social, were broadcasting and posting Trump’s comments—about punishing women or physicians, the media was also sharing a rebroadcast (you-tube) of Michael Stipe, former frontman for R.E.M., singing a haunting cover of “The Man Who Sold the World”, by David Bowie. He performed it on The Tonight Show the other night, in advance of his “Music of David Bowie” tribute concert. His haunting rendition hardly conjures The Donald, but captures the personal searching for ourselves that Bowie’s version, and Nirvana’s unplugged version, also evoke. Yet, Stipe puts his own stamp on it, as did Bowie and Nirvana (Kurt Cobain, especially).

Art speaks truth to the human experience, and individuals find their specific identifications with a work of art. The style of Bowie’s 1970 song, and Nirvana’s 1995 Unplugged cover, and Michael Stipe’s 2016 rendition are each artist specific, yet the song seems timeless.

Demagoguery and hate are also timeless. There are always those who would sell the world for power. I couldn’t help but consider this song that was being posted everywhere yesterday in the context of the events of the day—namely, Donald Trump’s latest. The interesting thing about “The Man Who Sold the World” is that it is both the demagogue and us.

If the original intent of the song was to meet and “shake hands” with our “other” (lesser) selves, its meaning extends to a societal level. We not only have tremendous economical, social, religious, educational, cultural differences among us in the U.S., but we somehow have to shake hands and meet. We can’t merely sell the world and think we will continue to be successful.

I know that the man who sells the world, i.e. Donald Trump, is far from the guy Michael Stipe, Kurt Cobain, or David Bowie were evoking, but there is something quite amazing about The Man Who Sold the World. It is fitting that Stipe’s affecting rendition was being played everywhere the same day that Trump’s “punishing” comments were everywhere.

We passed upon the stair,
We spoke of was and when,
Although I wasn’t there,
He said I was his friend,
Which came as some surprise.
I spoke into his eyes,
“I thought you died alone
A long long time ago.”

“Oh no, not me,
I never lost control
You’re face to face
With the man who sold the world.”

I laughed and shook his hand
And made my way back home,
I searched for form and land,
For years and years I roamed.
I gazed a gazley stare
At all the millions here:
“We must have died alone,
A long long time ago.”

“Who knows? Not me,
We never lost control.
You’re face to face
With the man who sold the world.”

“Who knows? Not me,
We never lost control.
You’re face to face
With the man who sold the world. —David Bowie, first released in the US, Nov.1970

 

 
I just discovered Lulu (To Sir With Love)’s version of the song from 1974. Perhaps this version, albeit 1974 pop, is the most appropriate version. Women still feel face to face with The Man Who Sold the World. Of course, the more versions, the more we each recognize The Man Who Sold the World. We’re face to face with him.

Snickers

Feeling hangry? You need snickers. Hungry and angry and sneering at others, even when the others are our own.

This election circus/campaign has been about snickers and sweet talking (toothing?) the angry who are hungry for anything else.

Of course Donald didn’t suddenly emerge as the hangry messiah. He’s just the most recent and obnoxious false prophet. Remember Sarah Palin? Rush? Glen Beck? Father Coughlin ?(going back a ways)….and the list goes on.

But the hangry are not merely non-Democrats. Many feeling the Bern are also hangry, and snicker at those who don’t feel The Bern.

The infighting—literally, at Trump rallies—is so pathetic (and scary). I have been on a no snickers diet for the last several months: tuning out as much as possible, and disassociating with the hangry. The hunger and anger combination is too intense. It overrides the necessary dispositions for civil life and governance. It’s also hard to be creative when hangry. Solutions must be immediate and simple. The snickering at others fortifies the hangry. It fuels the appetite, but not the health.

“You’re not you when you’re hungry. Snickers satisfies.”

The Snickers candy bar slogan could not be more perfect for our current culture. In politics, the hunger for change, combined with anger and resentment and disdain for others, has become utterly toxic and stupid.

It’s easy to be angry and hunger for change. It’s easy to be disdainful of those with whom you disrespect and disagree. But we don’t have to disrespect those with whom we disagree. It’s just become so easy and acceptable. And all the snickering fuels more anger and hunger and diminishes us.

We’re not us when we’re hangry. I think I want a Twix now.

Miss Spoke

It was a YUUUGE night in little New Hampshire, after a spectacularly crazy week of words heard everywhere.

Prior to the primary primary, Madeline Albright, campaigning for Hillary Clinton in New Hampshire, declared, “There’s a special place in hell for women who don’t help each other.”

Gloria Steinem, when asked why Hillary does so poorly among younger women said, “When you’re young, you’re thinking, ‘Where are the boys? The boys are with Bernie.’ ”

HUH??

That even trumps Trump’s repetition of one of his supporter’s sentiments that Ted Cruz “is a pussy”.  Trump considered the impact of those words before quoting his supporter. He knew he wasn’t supposed to say that! Eh….what the heck….

We hold Madeline Albright and Gloria Steinem to a higher standard (and they are not contenders for POTUS).  I was cringing when I heard each of them. These are public figures who know the impact of words. They have forged not only careers, but changed the landscape through their words that inspired actions. They understand consequences–intended and unintended. They are seasoned. They have contended with difficulties and experienced breakthroughs and tremendous success. And they are merely insulting now.

I read an article about how we shouldn’t diminish Albright and Steinem based on this past week’s comments. Their long and distinguished lives and careers are testaments to their iconic statuses, and their work has been profoundly significant, not only as feminist leaders, but as principled, inclusive, democratic, encouraging women whose influence is (was) global and intergenerational.

Well, sorry….that all ended rather abruptly. Shaming women (or anyone) into voting for a particular candidate is shameful. And it is a losing strategy. Younger people are generally more attracted to idealism. In general, people want leaders who inspire. Even Bill is beginning to repeat the 2008 over-the-top attack dog bit that bit the Clintons in the behind. Hard to see how their being offensive while feeling defensive will win hearts or minds or votes.

The obvious reaction to Albright’s admonition is: REALLY??? Sarah Palin. Michelle Bachman. Carly Fiorina. Because they are women?

And Steinem….the ulitmate Feminist icon…sounding like Connie Francis: Where the Boys Are. My brain still hurts from trying to figure this out. It’s actually rather tragic. These two (3?) ladies seem so sadly out of touch with not just this generation of female voters, but with the last few decades.

And the response to the justified outrage and backlash? Steinem said that she misspoke.

No. Miss Spoke just didn’t consider that idealism is more interesting (especially to youger people) than pragmatism; that women and any other demographic group are not necessarily homogenous; and that thinking critically means evaluating beyond gender or race or generation or any other category.

Miss Spoke was not only insulting, but inaccurate. Trump’s appeal to many is that he is acutely aware of his rhetorical choices, and disregards accuracy or respect with the intention of garnering support by appealing to baser instincts and emotions.

There seems to be a different set of rules for the one who claims Miss Spoke (whichever one): we expect a different sort of discourse and program–one that appeals to our aspirations with critical thinking; our better angels and productivity. Miss Spoke needs to think and speak more broadly. And we know more than one Miss Spoke recently.

 

January Jonesing

Somehow, so many accomplishments of 2015 were forgotten in the final season, as acts of terror, violence, and hate saturated our media and our senses, and left us feeling helpless, somewhat hopeless, and terrified. And disgusted. Violence and hate seem to be not only timeless, but endless, and less and less about a moment than a terminal condition.

January, in the middle of winter, is the fresh start we always crave and celebrate. She seems barely approachable when the fall always seems to surprise us with crashes or severe storms or political upheaval (even just elections), and we think we will be settled into a new calm and yet be invigorated.

January is alluring in her cool, which we desire after tempests and the inflammation that we tend to experience with intensity by December. 2015 exited with practically unbearable inflammation— mostly The Donald’s, but also with terrorists and other horrifying violence here, there, and everywhere.

January’s attraction is undeniable. She is quiet, but seemingly purposeful. She has a quality of purity, but not innocence. She is serious and clearly intentional, seeming to know what we want. She seems so wise, yet untainted. We’ve been jonesing for her cool.

Of course, January will become icy. That’s her way. She will become indifferent and then harsh. Bitter cold. Even in warm climates, January becomes another pretty face. She may be pleasant; even lovely for a while. I just recognize her. She’s beautiful, and can be friendly—or at least mild—but her nature yields to indifference and even harshness . That’s how cool is.

She lets us make the first move. But for some, they are already frozen. That first date was ignored, other than an opportunity to chill. They are needing some warmth—not fiery passion, but a bit of warmth to be able to slowly thaw. January doesn’t really offer much warmth, but she seems rather calm and composed, especially when we first see her. Maybe her cool is warm enough, even at a low temperature, to allow the rational to take over—at least for a bit.

By the end of the year, we are jonesing for January. Our overwhelming need for calm and cool may not be sustainable, but it is necessary, and we feel it and know it. We desire her, even knowing we can’t be with her for very long. We may forget that she is the way she is, just as we forget the way we are.
January is beautiful. She attracts our best intentions and our desire for excellence and progress. Her quiet is temporary, and allows us to think, even as we are smitten by the prospect of something new with her. And although she is the way she is, and we are the way we are, causing us to part, we long for her after a year of steps and missteps; assaults and breakthrough moments. January is a vision.

You’re Welcome

Thanksgiving is weird. It’s gluttonous. For too many, the holiday is rife with family bickering and/or stress. Yet, the narrative of Thanksgiving is one of gratitude with a loving family and nature’s bounty, linked to an American origin story that suggests harmony with people of a different culture, sharing agricultural learning and exchange to achieve gastronomical delight. The religiosity of the non-native Americans is known, but the universality of gratitude distinguishes this holiday as one that can be embraced by any and all faiths. It is utterly American.

We celebrate the story. Our version highlights the ideals in theory, but the details often play out contrary to the ideals. Americans love the novel—the always new story that is tidy and lofty, that has us as the embodiment of goodness and Civilization. And we could never be so boorish as to not be grateful for all that we have been given, even when we feel like we are entitled because we stand for what is best. We don’t merely receive a bounty; we have a system that is based on the notion that more is better. We seek abundance; even demand it.

We often look down on those who do not seem to have much. Sure, we will be charitable and give to the needy, especially this time of year. But, there is a sense that abundance is not abundant; that it must always be hunted and gathered. More is more. Black Friday is the inverse of the Puritan holiday feast celebrated the day before, although the theme of gluttony (not in the original narrative) continues.

The sense of vulnerability that pervades American culture—that our precious and abundant life is at risk—is acute. In the 21st Century, terrorism has become even more global and effective and has heightened our sense of vulnerability in a way that was previously unknown to Americans. The Great Recession similarly created a sense of scarcity and risk. We are terrified of losing access to abundance and life as we know it (or knew it).

The very reasonable fears of loss due to extreme economic conditions and terrorism become magnified and take on lives of their own with the pervasiveness of media. Reasonable fears that require reasonable measures quickly devolve into panic and fear mongering.

Sure, we give thanks— at least on the last Thursday of November. But will we say, “You’re welcome.” ? Will we welcome refugees and others in need? Will we share our American bounty? Will we be welcoming to others—all the others that we can easily avoid, ignore, shun? Will we welcome change or other points of view?

The original story of Thanksgiving—of meeting the other and sharing the bounty— is the quintessential American tale. It would be more appropriate if we were more welcoming in our lives.
We can experience abundance when we are welcoming. We do have much for which to be thankful. But the magnitude is felt when we say, “You’re welcome” .

In Other Words

I’m not big on banning words, but I am pro thoughtful and considerate usage. Words, like actions, have consequences. That’s why we use them.

Before the real bloodbath of Friday the 13th in Paris four days ago, we were grappling with the sometimes conflicting necessities of racial sensitivity and free speech. For some, sensitivity means easily piqued; for others, sensitivity means the opposite— consideration, discernment, understanding, empathy. We see this different use and application of the word sensitivity much like the application of the word entitled; for some, entitled implies deserving based on qualification; for others, entitled implies someone who thinks s/he is deserving without having to do anything; spoiled.

In cases like entitlement and sensitivity, usage often falls within political party lines. It’s as though we are losing a common language. But, language does evolve, and reconsidering words and their usages reflects cultural (and sometimes personal) evolution.

It is easy to grasp the phrase “a clash of civilizations” when referring to terrorist groups who want to topple governments and seize territory through violence, distorted religion, and regression, as we have seen with the Taliban in Afghanistan, and with what we tend to call ISIS or ISIL (including more than Syria) or now the derogatorily named Daesh. Some have countered that the phrase “clash of civilizations” is hyperbolic and inaccurate because the fight is against Civilization, not against two civilizations. In other words, we dignify or dishonor depending on our word choices.

On the home front, we tend to distinguish between “politically correct” terms deemed considerate and preserving dignity, and terms that may be considered as derogatory or used to degrade or keep one outside. The recent backlashes to “politically correct” speech are sometimes motivated by discrimination, but other times, they are an effort to reclaim dignity in a new context; in effect, to show control over what was once terminology used for oppression. Others seek to acknowledge that speech is a protected right in this country and must not be silenced regardless of content.

I don’t believe that just because we have a Constitutional right to free speech, that speech is free. It is, like all freedom, embedded with responsibility, and that means consequences, intended and unintended. Our own grappling with words and phrases and how they reflect on us as a culture can get a bit messy, as we have seen many times during the last year alone, and recently on college campuses. Political rhetoric has always been with us, but we also see grassroots cultural rhetoric that seeks to dismantle some of the prevailing policies, and politics, cultural norms as well as inconsiderate behavior.

The way in which events are characterized is now mostly a matter of politics. Our task is to be aware of rhetoric. How words are used reflects and fosters dispositions. Even the word rhetoric, which refers to the way with words, can be defined as eloquence or as bombast; persuasion or lacking in sincerity or meaningful content. Politicization of events occurs through rhetoric—through word usage intended to persuade, either with eloquence or bombast.

The politicization of deaths to due terrorism and other violence seems to have the effect of dividing rather than uniting us in mission, which halts progress.
What should be done with so many Syrians fleeing Syria? We debate whether we should call them migrants or refugees. Refugees are those who flee their country in order to escape war, persecution, or natural disaster. However, for the politicians who fear terrorists entering our borders (not an unreasonable fear), they can state their position as not wanting to give refuge to terrorists, thereby conflating refugees with giving refuge to terrorists. And migrants? I don’t remember hearing that term before recently to describe those fleeing persecution. The politicization of the word refugee has created the current use of migrant as an alternative to refer to those seeking refuge from war and persecution.
I started by saying that I don’t generally believe in banning words, but I am in favor of thoughtful and considerate usage. The manhunt for the so-called “mastermind” of the recent Paris attacks is one case in which I think it’s time to abandon the term “mastermind” when used to describe perpetrators of violence against innocent people. We often use it with an invisible or silent “evil” preceding the word mastermind. The title “Mastermind” aggrandizes those who conceive of methods to kill innocent people. Life takes much more mastery than killing innocent people and inspiring fear. This guy may have been the chief organizer and strategist, but why dignify the monster with a title that should be reserved for those whose intelligence produces that which is constructive and life affirming?

We tend to denigrate honest, hardworking, patriotic people who may have different opinions, but we aggrandize and empower the real troublemakers, criminals and monsters, especially when we foment fear. In other words, we can consider or ignore; dignify or dishonor; empower or degrade. Words, like actions, have power and consequences. Use them wisely.

Old Faithful

Apparently, although not visibly, Americans are moving away from religion. The new, new silent majority (well, growing minority) are the irreligious millennials. This seems contrary to everything one can possibly consume through media channels. The common experience of America is that America is driven by religiosity, and that religious freedom is the most important Constitutional Right, next to the Second Amendment—the one about a well regulated militia . In fact, for many religious Americans, the first two amendments to the Constitution are the Constitution, and therefore, America.

But back to religiosity. Religion, as defined as “a particular system of faith and worship”, is on the decline among millennials. The Pew Research Center’s survey focused on Americans’ religious beliefs and practices. Essentially, the numbers suggest polarization along religious lines may be increasing in the United States. Although the percentage of Americans who responded that they are unaffiliated with any religious tradition is growing, those who identify with a religion are becoming more devout. The political implications are apparent.

The disaffection with formal religious institutions among millennials is not the same as lack of spirituality or morality. The survey explored traditional religious practices in association with traditional religious institutions.

I suspect that for those for whom faith in a deity and in an organized religion, the religious institution is a source of community and structure, rules and regulations, charity and ideals. For those for whom faith is not found in religious structures or descriptions, they may still seek a spiritual life (or not), and still seek community and morality, humanitarian causes and social justice, rules and regulations, charity and ideals. But it’s hard to have faith in institutions these days.

That’s what unites these two seemingly disparate (and desperate) states of America: The lack of faith in institutions seems to be pervasive. For some, there is faith in religious institutions and not in government; for others, there is faith (although perhaps dissatisfaction) in governmental and social institutions, and not in religious ones.
Faith is elusive when seeing evidence of the contrary. It’s hard to have faith in a person or institution when one’s belief is seemingly contradicted. Cops killing unarmed suspects, makes it hard to have faith in police. Daily shootings, often seemingly random, makes it hard to have faith in our gun laws. Schools dictated by tests, and colleges bankrupting young adults and families make it hard to have faith in education. People who are so anti-government they are willing to do anything to gain power to obstruct the government, make it hard to have faith in our institutions or in people. Knowing how much it takes to live a middle class life, much less leave a legacy, makes it very difficult to have faith in our economic system, or in our future.

Faith is future oriented, based on our feelings in the present. Ironically, it is history that can provide us the comfort necessary for faith. It is an accurate understanding of the unfolding of history, not as an ideological story, but more of a scientific and evolutionary approach to understanding circumstances and their impacts. It is not a predictor, and differences between historical moments are important to acknowledge. But we have seen religious eras, and progressive eras; chaotic times when violence was rampant and government was flailing. We’ve seen threatening times, and war too many times. And what seems unique now, has parallels.

I have faith in evolution. Sometimes I forget that we can evolve personally, because the evidence is often so contrary to my belief. Likewise, it’s easy to lose faith in our institutions, because we seem so stuck, and we confuse images and stories with knowledge,and we are often unwise. It’s difficult to see evolution, especially when we are overwhelmed by replays of old conflicts  with current unenlightened players. I don’t know the significance of the study on Americans and religion. It’s always evolving. We will continue to evolve. On that, I guess you can count me among the faithful.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers

Kevin McCarthy will forever be known as the competent, upstanding guy who realized that the population in his community was being taken over one by one.

Kevin McCarthy was the actor best known for the 1956 sci-fi horror flick (and political allegory) “Invasion of the Body Snatchers”. Representative Kevin McCarthy, House Majority leader in 2015, and presumptive Speaker of the House following Speaker John Boehner’s recent announcement of his retirement, abruptly dropped out of the race (practically uncontested) for the Speakership. One minute he’s practically Speaker; the next– he’s out, throwing the GOP into chaos.

The dissatisfactions with our culture get played out in our Body Politic; in this case, the political body that everyone detests, Congress. Regardless of political party affiliation, there is utter distrust and fear of the other, and the sense that the other is snatching away our culture and our future.

Those who are elected to set national policies emerge from local cultures that have geographical and demographical distinctions that no longer serve to broaden our thinking and experience, but in fact, narrow them. The 21st Century sense that compromise is weakness, has taken hold and has rendered governing a lost art. John Boehner saw this, and had had enough. Kevin McCarthy the Congressman saw this before he even started.

Kevin McCarthy the not-actor and not-Speaker may have realized that his “gaffe” last week regarding the Benghazi Select Committee, (and therefore Hillary Clinton), may have been rather damaging. He suggested that the Benghazi Select Committee is really only concerned with partisan politics. The truth hurts. Or it can set you free.

It’s hard not to think of the original Kevin McCarthy and the “Invasion of the Body Snatchers”. He was that competent, upstanding guy who realized that the population in his community was being taken over one by one. Is this life imitating art? The film seemed artier as more time passed and the “McCarthy Era”, i.e. McCarthyism (Senator Joseph McCarthy), seemed like a historical relic. Alas, we see these same tactics of making accusations without proper regard for evidence in today’s Body Politic, from the Retropublicans. We’ve also seen the definition of McCarthyism “the practice of making unfair allegations or using unfair investigative techniques, especially in order to restrict dissent or political criticism.”
Representative Jason Chaffetz, exemplified these (Joseph) McCarthy techniques with his so-called hearing on the (doctored) Planned Parent videos. He is still running for Speaker of the House. I’m getting very queasy watching this version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.