Guns, Bibles and gays.
For those of us who can remember the Johnson-Nixonian era of racial ignorance and nativist pearl clutching (make that pearl-handled derringer clutching for the helpless dames), this decade is ringing in far too many memories of a deliberately divided and globally embarrassing nation at war with itself and it’s own liberty.
There is some serious work to be done in some 48 days. The update of the Guns, Bibles and gays triangulation is potentially lethal, people.
We believed that was as self-sickened a culture as we could imagine, following on the tarred heels of Jim Crow, Vietnam and endemic political grifting. Arguably, we are a few thousand fathoms underneath that level now.
Thanks T’Rump. All we needed was the orange high-test distilled from this particular source of natural gas.
Yet with major change comes scorching partings and newly forged alliances. Truths are forced to the bubbling surface of the cauldron of international politics and the savagery of groups like ISIL and Trump supporters who have a twisted positive idea of how sick we are.
We’re plenty sick, turn on Fvx News (or Morning JoeSchmoe) at any hour to verify. Ten minutes of KellyAnne Conway make me want to hitchhike the three hours to Quebec.
Or simply catch a few moments of a lividly red-faced screaming Donald
Dicque Trump daintily seeding violence and bigotry on the less-thans. The non-white invaders that we are constantly being told – often at gunpoint – who are here to steal their women/jobs/land/freedoms/military style weapons/heterosexuality/aggressive policing and their retrograde view of “their” country.
It takes a saws-all to buzz one’s way through all this heinous noise, past the ugly fear and the slippery spinning that serves as politics in the Twenty Teens. If you don’t keep a saws-all handy, let someone genuinely in the fight rip the scab off the truth for you. It’s cathartic. It’s painful. It’s beyond humiliating … and it is RAW.
Yesterday, young Chris Hayes – of the newish and lesser messnbc – proved himself able to offer us up something we could draw hope and heart from … and brought that rare element of unvarnished or photoshopped truth to the fearful and faithful both. In the person of Ben Jealous, former president of the somewhat informed NAACP. Sarcasm dripping.