Planet Utah

The nature of political intolerance

I spent a quiet New Year's Eve at home, assembling furniture. I flipped on the TV once, right around midnight, and caught Dick Clark sounding a lot like a guy who needs to retire. He still has not recovered from the effects of his stroke. I was out of the room when Clark came on TV, but when I heard his voice I thought, "Is someone pretending to be drunk? That's a pretty lame bit." But then I went into the TV room and saw that it was Dick Clark, not pretending to be anything. All is not lost, though. Given his obvious inability to communicate, I'm sure the GOP faithful will select him as their nominee in 2012.

So, anyway, in the midst of the furniture assembly process, I had a lot of time to think. It occurred to me that there are two kinds of people with whom one can have a political argument. One kind of person thinks that reasonable people can disagree reasonably. The other kind of person thinks that the only reason someone might disagree with their point of view is ignorance, or bigotry, or lack of knowledge or education or sophistication.

Ironically enough, it's this second kind of person that gave candidates like George Wallace and Richard Nixon a lot of traction with "silent majority" sorts. Big shocker: nobody likes to feel as if they are an object of contempt.

Do you want to draw curious stares in 2009?

I suppose that question answers itself--I mean, who doesn't? Well, I'm here to help.

As you probably know, Mecca is considered the holiest city in the Islamic world. For this reason, we here in the west have adopted the convention of referring to places of distinction as "meccas": a cultural mecca, for example, or a sports mecca, or a mecca for birdwatchers.

As you may or may not know, Medina is considered the second holiest city in the Islamic world. But you never hear anyone refer to something as a "cultural medina," or a "sports medina."

Recognizing this, I'd like to encourage all of my readers to start using "medina" instead of "mecca" in 2009. I will do the same.

Why? Just for fun. (And who knows--with a little bit of luck, we might also piss off some radical Muslims.)

Added insight into Sarah Palin's power to offend

I was visiting with friends and relatives over Christmas and had a vigorous debate/discussion with someone I would describe as very bright, very well educated, very well-read, and very anti-Republican. This person is a Democrat, though not necessarily an enthusiastic one. She is also not a bleeding-heart liberal, though is certainly left of center. Her politics seem to be as much defined by contempt for conservatives/Republicans--especially social conservatives, and the Christian right in particular--as by anything else.

During the course of our conversation, she said something to me that I've heard dozens of times over the years: "I think that until Republicans drop all of these divisive social issues and start talking about issues that people really care about, they're just going to keep losing elections." (There is much to dispute in that sentence, but that's not the point of this post, so I'm not going to take up the argument here.) I responded as follows: "You know, I watched and read more of the general election coverage than most people, and aside from the forum with Rick Warren, I don't ever remember John McCain talking about abortion, or gay marriage, or stem cell research, or immigration, or any of the supposed 'wedge issues.' If he did, it was only in passing. I think it would be accurate to say that for the most part he largely ignored those issues during the campaign. So what, exactly, did he say or do that bothered you so much?"

Her response: "He picked Sarah Palin."

My response: "Yeah, so?"

Her response: "Obviously, her only qualification was that she was a pro-life Christian conservative. There were a thousand women more qualified than Sarah Palin to be John McCain's running mate. But he had to pick her as a sop to the Christian right. It was a total insult to women."

The Reagan book that still needs to be written

I just finished reading Bill Buckley's final book, The Reagan I Knew. I didn't learn much about RWR by reading the book, though I suppose it was mildly interesting to see some of Reagan's heretofore unpublished correspondence with Buckley.

Actually, one thing did catch my attention. It comes almost as an afterthought, very late in the book. Buckley notes that as early as the late 1960s, Reagan had a tendency to simply "turn off" after a certain amount of time out in public. He recounts an incident in which, after about 45 minutes on a receiving line, Reagan got a glassy, distant look in his eye and began simply going through the motions, offering only cursory greetings and failing to make any meaningful connections or conversation--even with people he knew intimately.

This insight in particular grabbed me because I remember reading once what I was certain must have been an apocryphal Reagan story: that after serving as a speaker at his son Michael's graduation, when Michael later mounted the podium to receive his diploma, then Governor Reagan acted as if he didn't know or recognize his own son. In light of Buckley's observation, it seems likely that the governor had probably "switched off" somewhere close to the middle of the alphabet, and was on total autopilot by the time Michael came up for his sheepskin and handshake.

It also caught my attention that while the Reagan described in the book is (unsurprisingly) modest, humble, and largely unimpressed with himself, Buckley comes off as a bit of a poser. He will write to the Reagans and say things such as (paraphrasing), "Alas, only a week left here in Gstadt before I must return to New York to accept some book award or other. (Will try to meet with Dick Nixon during the trip, if my schedule cooperates.) Then it's a brief sailing excursion down through the Keys. There's a tiny island 20 miles off the southern tip of Florida that produces a most remarkable Carmenere. It's turned Pat--a former teetotaler, as you know--into a bonafide oenophile. You really MUST join us!"

Finally, and regrettably, I have to report that the book does not explain, or even attempt to explain, what to me is the central mystery of Reagan's mind: how could he be capable of tremendous insight and lucidity at some moments, and then unravel into fantasy, self-deception, and incoherence at others? How could the same man who foresaw the imminent demise of communism be unable to recognize his own secretary of Housing and Urban Development? How could the man who wrote eloquent, articulate, and thoughtful letters throughout his presidency also (incorrectly) remember himself to have been present at the liberation of a Nazi death camp?

The book that answers those questions is the one that still needs to be written...before it's too late (i.e., before all of the good sources are dead and buried).

The weird thing about Guinness

I don't know much about business, but I have noticed that most businesses do not subscribe to the "we do one thing, and we do it well" model. For example, the guy who invented those rotating perfect push-up things later came out with a travel version of the same product, and then came out with a perfect pull-up device. One assumes that he'll eventually come out with a perfect sit-up device, a perfect squat device, and a perfect screw-you-I'd-rather-be-fat device. Why? Because businesses--like relationships, as first noted by Woody Allen in "Annie Hall"--are like sharks: they have to keep moving forward or they die. (Woody says to Diane Keaton: "I think what we have on our hands is a dead shark.") If you only make one thing, customers may tire of your thing, or somebody may come along and make it better than you do, or a crazy lady in Peoria, Illinois may claim to have found a dead gerbil in your thing. As a business, making just one thing is a risky proposition. It's the classic case of putting all of your eggs in one basket.

Which brings me around, finally, to Guinness. In America, anyway, I've only ever seen one kind of Guinness: Guinness-flavored Guinness, on tap, in a can, or in a bottle. I've never seen a Guinness Light, a Guinness Winter Brew, a Guinness w/ a Hint o' Boiled Potato, or a Guinness anything else. It's always plain old Guinness.

Refreshing, but odd.

Colin Powell, establishment figure

You probably saw or heard Colin Powell's criticism of the Republican party. (It would have been hard to miss; there's no story the media love more than Republicans criticizing Republicans.) If you follow politics closely, though, you realize that Powell's "concerns" were complete nonsense--nothing more than recycled cocktail party chatter, not conclusions he has drawn from first-hand experience.

Why do I say this? First of all, when he raised concerns about Rush Limbaugh, he pronounced the name "Lim-bow," like "bow wow wow," or "when the bow breaks, the cradle will fall." If Powell had ever listened to Rush Limbaugh, or had talked to anyone who had listened to Limbaugh, it would have been virtually impossible to make this error. It's a bit like pronouncing "Illinois" as "Ill-uh-noise."

Second, as Rush himself has pointed out, he's a conservative, not a Republican. For the past eight years, he has been critical of Republicans for not being nearly conservative enough. Over the past eight years, in other words, the party has NOT listened to Limbaugh--notwithstanding Powell's ill-informed comments.

Finally, Powell's comments that "the party has to stop shouting at the world and shouting at the country" bear no relation to anything you might have seen in the 2008 election, or the 2006 election, or the 2004 election, or the 2002 election, or the 2000 election...really, no relation to anything you have seen since the early- to mid-1990s. (I mean, really: John McCain, shouting at the world and shouting at the country?) Perhaps Powell is (again) confusing talk radio--or rather, what he has heard about talk radio--with the rhetoric coming from the GOP. 

Long story short, Powell has no idea what he's talking about, and therefore should keep his mouth shut.

Footnote: This incident reminds me a bit of what happened 15 years ago or so, when William Raspberry called Rush Limbaugh a bigot. Raspberry got lots of letters and emails from Rush fans, and got lots of calls, too, when he made appearances on radio programs. Ultimately, he apologized to Limbaugh ("Rush, I'm sorry") and admitted that his opinions about the radio host had come "largely from other people--mostly friends who think 'Rush' is a four-letter word."

Can you buy extra marquee letters on e-bay?

There's only one decent bar near my new domicile. It's called The Warehouse. Why, I'm not sure. Anyway, as I pulled in tonight I noticed that the marquee was advertising an NBA game: "Mars vs. Raptors." I love the Mars! Almost as much as I love the Mavs. Then as I was leaving, I saw this: "Beer, Wine, and Spipits." If only I had seen that before I went in, I would have asked my server what kind of spipits they sell.

When the Mormons consider you a lost cause...

Yesterday my dad and I were unloading a bunch of furniture from a moving truck outside my home in Austin. As we unloaded, two young Mormon guys approached us and asked if we needed help. We politely declined, and they offered again. We declined again, and they offered one more time ("Really? Are you sure?"). Again we declined, not because we didn't want the help, but because we didn't want to incur the obligation. Well, that didn't deter one of the young guys, who started laying his LDS rap on me. I hit him with my standard (and now well-rehearsed) set of objections to Mormonism as history and theology. Rather than addressing my objections point by point, however--which is what most Mormons do--he said, "But can't you just take on faith that this is the word of God?", nodding toward his copy of the Book of Mormon. I said, "No, my brain doesn't work that way. When all of the evidence from science and history indicates that something is NOT the word of God, I just can't force myself to believe that it is." The young guy then asked me, "Have you prayed about it?" I said, "More than you would believe." He said, "And what happened?" I said, "Nothing...no answer, no direction. So, I just keep searching on my own." And with that, the kid gave up: "Okay, well, if you ever need anything, here's where to find me. Welcome to the neighborhood."

Good news is no news

Time Magazine is out with its top 10 stories of 2008, and guess what? No mention of the remarkable military and political improvement in Iraq. Also no mention of gas prices going from sky high to snake belly low in the span of just a few months. Curious...

Footnote: Tara Reid entering rehab is #7.

A party of governors?

I'm going to be disappearing beneath the waves for a while...a combination of work and some moving logistics will leave me mostly unplugged until some time in the middle of next week.

Before I go, though, I wanted to throw out one more thought on the future of Republicans and conservatives. As a presidential party, Republicans have one serious disadvantage: the primary activity of the federal government is handing out benefits to various constituencies. If your party doesn't really believe in that activity, you're going to struggle to build a sustainable majority. You're going to struggle, that is, until a substantial, interested, active majority of the public starts to agree with you that the federal government shouldn't be in the business of collecting taxpayer money, dividing it into different pots, and then distributing those pots as it sees fit. And I'm not talking about the public agreeing with you in the abstract; I'm talking about the public agreeing with you on specifics: Medicare and Social Security should be means tested, the government should not subsidize farmers, education should be a purely state and local responsibility, etc.

While I grow bald and gray waiting for the tide of opinion on such matters to shift, I'm wondering if maybe the GOP ought to say, "Screw the presidency. The rules of that game are rigged against us. Instead, let's take all of our talent and all of our money and try to win all 50 governorships."

I know it sounds crazy, and I'm only half-serious, but consider one advantage of this approach. When you're president, there's no consequence for not balancing the budget. I mean, no one really seems to care about big budget deficits. So, there will always be big demands for more spending and lower taxes, future generations be damned. That's one reason that Republican presidents have failed miserably when it comes to balancing the federal budget.

At the state level, though, you HAVE to balance the budget (in most places, anyway). It's a legal requirement. So if your budget is out of whack and you're a Republican governor, you get to say, "Okay, it's time for us to rein in spending." Now, that's something that most Republicans believe should be done on principal anyway, even if budgets are flush.  But as I've noted, it isn't a message that sells well. If you're a governor, though, it's something you are REQUIRED BY LAW to do. Budgets have to be balanced, you know.

Sure, it's just one example, but in many respects I think the job description of governor fits the Republican philosophy better than does the job description of president. So, let the Dems have the latter. We'll take the former.