She opens: “How do we deal with all that has happened?”
Me: This is hype. Nothing earth-shattering has happened.
She says: “This was an attack on democracy itself.”
Me: I can see that you mean to call attention to how the timing was about the certification ceremony, but everyone knows it’s ceremonial. So no, it wasn’t an attack on democracy itself. It was an attack on a superficial ceremony. In the end, I don’t change my life because criminals engage in criminal activity. More hype.
She, demonstrating her own certifiable-ness, says: “This was a sin against history.”
Me: Hype. Your readership doesn’t even believe in sin. That’s only for Mexican immigrants, African immigrants, and conservatives—in other words, those who are generally thought to be dreamers.
Her: “On the rioters: Find them, drag them out of their basements, and bring them to justice.”
Me: I think that’s a Freudian slip. “Drag them out of their basements?” The only president-elect whose been in his basement all year is Biden. Oops. I meant, the only person. Person.
Her: “Throw the book at them.”
Me: You’re old.
Her: “Now to the devil and his apprentices.”
Me: The trouble with this implication is the sheer volume of voters who chose the devil. It’s not just a data point. Real people like the devil. The solution can’t disregard this fact. Your does, so your suggestion cannot be right.
Her: “As for the chief instigator, the president of the United States, he should be removed from office by the 25th Amendment or impeachment, whichever is faster. This, with only a week and a half to go, would be a most extraordinary action, but this has been an extraordinary time. Mike Pence is a normal American political figure; he will not have to mount a new government; he appears to be sane; he will in this brief, strange interlude do fine.”
Me: It’s not an extraordinary time. It’s Friday. Hype.
Her: “Removing him would go some distance to restoring our reputation, reinforcing our standards, and clarifying constitutional boundaries for future presidents who might need it.”
Me: The Left, who just won, and then won again, does not like our reputation, has double standards, and hates the constitution. His removal was enacted by people who don’t like our reputation, have double standards, and hate the constitution.
Her: “True conservatives tend to have a particular understanding of the fragility of things. They understand that every human institution is, in its way, built on sand. It’s all so frail. They see how thin the veil is between civilization and chaos, and understand that we have to go through every day, each in our way, trying to make the veil thicker.”
Me: My true-conservative fingers say, without hype, “Umm, okay. I see the difference and we’re definitely in the chaos. The rioters attacked a symbolic ceremony. Rebuking them with a symbolic 10 day early public flogging would only feed the delusion that our civilization’s adding flour. (Thickening agent.)
Her: “I have resisted Nazi comparisons for five years, for the most part easily. But that is like what is happening here, the same kind of spirit, as the president departs, as he angrily channel-surfs in his bunker.”
Me: You resisted for five years? And then when all that is broken is some glass, now you cave? History will never compare Trump to Hitler. In the beginning, it appeared—compared to traditional presidents—that Trump had some quirks that could start down the wrong path. But after five years any of us have seen enough to espouse informed pronouncements. Here’s mine. He was nothing—nothing—like Hitler. He was like Trump.
Closing thought: Peggy, dear, you’re wrong because of your premise. No one will be reading history in the future—no one of consequence at least. Your character, not Trump, took the hit with this one. You can’t cover your ass with one op-ed piece—not because the piece wasn’t clearly breaking ties, but because the piece was only written for a future audience who will never exist.
Now we wait to see who’s right. If they remove Trump, your finger is on the pulse. And I have a newfound respect for your influence. If they don’t, my finger is on the pulse. Good luck.
I don’t like President Obama. Can I still admit that even though in doing so I might offend a “sizable group of people?”
Here in the purple state of Colorado, expressing this opinion–my opinion–gives me pause. It can be difficult to tell if I am speaking to someone who agrees or vehemently disagrees. Discovering the answer is always an adventure.
Here’s why I don’t like the president: The president pretends to not know his own influence.
From the moment he took office, it was made known that he would be a very accessible president. “Ask him anything and he’ll tell you,” they said. The unthinking American loved his openness. His openness surely attracted positive popular sentiment. But make no mistake, it is a very calculated move on the president’s part. Think about it. What would happen if your boss started voicing that he or she really liked a particular camera…right around Christmas time? What would happen if your boss started describing how much he or she disliked the color blue? In my experience, in the first situation the boss would likely be given that camera as a gift at the company party; in the second, the color blue would be avoided in the office where possible.
The credible boss, the boss with high character understands the economics of his or her language. He or she understands that there are only so many hours in a day and many things have to be attended to. The boss knows, therefore, that he or she cannot afford to communicate for forever. They have to offer their guiding leadership eloquently, and rely on an able-bodied workforce to carry out the plan. This happens every day. Even the most micro-managing boss has limited time–thankfully–to communicate all that he or she wants to.
Likewise, when a president offers his opinion on something, it starts a chain reaction. Decisions are made based on the opinion. Take this together with the way our country’s political sphere has unfolded–the president being viewed as newsworthy celebrity rather than public servant–and there is a problem.
Bob Costas attempted to use his power to persuade the Washington Redskins owner to act. So far, it has been ineffective. Bob Costas is a virtual nobody. He is a talking head. Generally a pleasant to listen to talking head, but he is as effectually powerless over another man’s actions as the next man. The same is not true for the president. No matter what he’d like us to believe, it is not just “his opinion.” And he knows it. But he pretends not to. He pretends like he really is one of us. He isn’t. It’s categorically impossible. The us he is attempting to fit in with know their place.
For example, I know that this blog will have no appreciable effect beyond providing momentary pleasure for no more than 10 people. It’ll receive 1-2 ‘likes’, if that. More likely, it will irritate some people and be a stumbling block to my professional possibilities as I’m publishing it on LinkedIn.
Don’t buy this argument? Just wait. History will prove my point. Like the boss receiving a camera for Christmas, the Redskins will change their name. When they do, to deny the president’s influence will strain even American credulity.
In the end, I really don’t wonder what President Obama thinks about me. I just want him to stop pretending that his opinions are inconsequential. I want him to stop using his limited time to weigh-in on ridiculously un-presidential matters. I want “more work, less talk.” Is that too much to ask for?