Best Pride Month Ever:

• Prayer protected
• Filibuster protected
• Gun rights protected
• Federalism protected
• Unborn lives protected

These are familiar conservative talking points, not that there’s anything wrong with that. I thought I’d calmly reflect on these issues, point by point. On the other hand, maybe I’ll start a fire. We’ll see.

Prayer protected

Well, yes, maybe. But it might depend on who you’re praying to. Or more precisely, who you are praying in front of. The Supreme Court ruled it’s judiciously cool for a white conservative Christian coach to kneel ostentatiously in prayer in the middle of a football field after a game on school grounds, gathering as many like souls together as he, and they, wish.

Do you think non-Christian players feel any peer pressure to conform to this religious ritual, especially in a majority Christian community? Could there be anything coercive about this?

I wonder how the Justices would have ruled if the coach was a Muslim who chose to engage in Islamic prayer on the field with his players, prayer rugs and all, bowing to Mecca? Is that particular prayer on public school property protected by the Court ruling? Do I want my Christian son exposed to this? And oy vey, shall we protect a Jewish coach who conducts a prayer of gratitude to God for his blessings, on the field, along with his players? Maybe a Buddhist meditation, all in the lotus position, quietly chanting on the sidelines? (Buddhists aren’t especially demonstrative, after all.)

Does the Supreme Court ruling really protect “prayer” in America? I wonder…

Filibuster protected

Again, yes, but… The filibuster? Seriously? No one likes the filibuster. It’s not mentioned in the constitution and it wasn’t part of the Founding Fathers’ vision of the U.S. Senate. It is, in fact, according to most congressional experts, the single worst feature of Senate procedure. It came into being as a result of an unfortunate accident of history due to an obscure Senate rule based on an 18th Century English law regarding parliamentary discourse. It allowed a member to speak on the floor without limitations, and it is now used exclusively to delay or block a vote by the opposite party.

There is nothing sacred, traditional, or “American” about the filibuster. If you’re a democrat or republican in the majority in the Senate, you hate the filibuster. It messes with your ability to pass legislation, to perform the will of the people. If you’re in the minority, and you want to assert powers far beyond any granted to you by the constitution, you cling to it like a life raft on the Titanic! Our system is based on “majority rule,” not “Super majority rule.”

I would think we’ve all had enough of folks obstructing a legislative assembly, whether they accomplish it through the filibuster, or by insurrection.

Gun rights protected

Yes indeed, the more protection the better! Right? But oh my goodness! Be careful what you wish for, America. White nationalists and mentally unstable teenagers open-carrying handguns and military grade assault weapons where you shop, eat and play? How lovely, and how very Second Amendment-y. Most folks fighting hard for unrestricted gun rights did not anticipate that these very rights would apply equally to the teeming mobs of unruly minorities and unwelcome immigrants that they are so afraid of and believe they need to protect themselves from! Moreover, what about the public health and safety of all of us, our First Amendment rights and freedoms to peacefully assemble and to speak without fear of violence? I’m sure the Founding Fathers would be delighted to see children today slinging assault weapons over their shoulders as they head to the mall.

This isn’t exactly what James Madison intended when he proposed “A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.” There was no standing American army at that time so State militias were essentially the national defense. Hence, the Second Amendment. Tell me, who needs this well-regulated militia now?

A significant majority of American gun owners across the political spectrum, from the Left to the Right, are very much in favor of the “well-regulated” part, and support extensive background checks on gun purchasers, raising the age for gun purchases to 21, and enforcing red flag laws.

Shouldn’t we all?

Federalism protected

Federalism? OK, I hear you. Big HUH? What the hell is federalism? And who cares? Good point. Well, I care. That’s all I’ve got. Here’s one definition:

Federalism is a mixed or compound mode of government that combines a general government (the central or “federal” government) with regional governments (provincial, state, territorial, etc.) in a single political system, dividing the powers between the two.

This is essentially our American government. So I have a question. Who is protecting federalism, and from what? Is federalism under siege? Are federalists being attacked in the streets like racial minorities, or in their workplaces, like Congress people? Maybe it’s the Federalist Society, as usual, feeling victimized?

The Federalist Society makes its case for an originalist interpretation of the constitution, and there is, in fact, disagreement with that idea. This means adhering to the constitution precisely as the federalists believe our Founders intended exactly at the time they wrote the document. There is opposition to that idea inasmuch as many others in fact believe it goes against the Founding Fathers intention that in order to survive and remain relevant the constitution must grow and evolve and change with the times. There is healthy debate between originalism and living constitutionalism, but that argument has almost nothing to do with federalism, particularly as it was originally articulated.

Federalism simply maintains that the “middle ground”, as James Madison conceived it, provide equal power and responsibilities to the central, or “federal” government, and to the states, or the “people.” From the outset theory and practice frequently collided. There has always been robust conflict between federal and state government legal jurisdiction and we have plenty of lawyers available to keep those battles going on forever. There’s money in them thar bills! More importantly, we live in a democratic republic and it’s a messy business. Our challenge, as citizens and voters, is not to let our country slide into authoritarianism.

Our fragile republic has teetered on the edge many times throughout history, as it does now. The protections enshrined in our constitution might find challenges in the arms of federalists, but they would flail hopelessly under authoritarian rule, and they would not survive totalitarianism. Let’s not go down this path.

Unborn lives protected

OK. Watch out here. Yes, the Supreme Court tossed out the constitutionally protected rights of women to make their own reproductive choices. This is a deeply sensitive issue, controversial, even violently so, and with little apparent opportunity for compromise. I always supported the position that abortion should be safe, legal, and rare. But I am only prepared to make that argument medically, and morally, not religiously. I believe a woman has a right to choose what she does with and to her own body, especially a pregnant 10-year old rape victim.

Of course, for many people, this is not the point.

We come to the issue of “unborn lives.” This is a very charged phrase, and it is a powerfully effective way to frame the issue from the religious standpoint. I do not question the genuine beliefs and passions of those who righteously choose the religious argument, those who actually know and care what they’re talking about when they invoke the “sanctity of life.” No one on either side of the issue will ever win the argument over whether or not a fetus at any particular stage of development is an actual life possessing equal, or even more rights, than the woman carrying it.

My simple, and not particularly original thought, is to suggest we all follow our own beliefs, our own consciences, our own adherence to religion or science on this issue. That we pray with compassion for the moral outcomes of each and every decision a woman and her family make about terminating a pregnancy. And let’s not bully anyone, by laws or coercion, into making a life-altering decision, for better or worse, a decision whether or not to have that baby.

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1. They are terrified of Trump, his base, his threats, his violent followers, and afraid of being slammed with primary challenges from the far right Trumpian maniacs in their next election cycle.
2. They are cynical opportunists, cashing in on the fund raising frenzy, duping and gouging the pathetic, gullible and frightened conspiracy believing American subset, ramping up their own 2024 presidential campaigns by sucking up to the Trump base and entertaining the QAnon, OAN, Trumpian fantasies as, My God!, maybe…true?
3. They are deeply and perversely ignorant, racist, anti-democracy, neofascistic cretins who have been disgorged from the sewers and dumpsters of America, courtesy of their Enabler in Chief Donald Trump, and they are woefully unable to grasp the very basic essence of fact, integrity and decency.

But perhaps I am too hard on these fine people?

No, I don’t think so.

I’m not worried about America. Biden will become president on January 20th and the long hard road to healing and rebuilding and restoring our country, our democracy, and saving the lives of our people from Covid and climate change will begin.

The post Loyalty, the Cult and the Incompetent Authoritarian appeared first on Traveling Archive.

My father died while I was roaming through Northern Italy. He was 52. He passed away peacefully in his sleep in his home in Florida. I found out about it at the American Express office in Istanbul three weeks later when I opened a letter my brother sent me.

This was 1970. There were no computers, no smartphones, no Skype. I knew my dad was sick. My brother promised to write to me if our dad got worse. So I checked designated American Express mail drops in cities throughout my journey, looking for mail addressed to me, hoping not to find a letter.

My dad had been ill for nearly 7 years with an incurable disease so rare that only 100 cases were known to exist. When he was first diagnosed they gave him 6 months to live, maybe a year. He agreed to become a lab animal, let them experiment on him with new drugs and treatments. He was in and out of the hospital. He wasn’t getting better but he didn’t get worse. His pain was under control. But his days were still numbered.

That summer before my senior year at UCLA I agonized over taking my long-planned trip across Europe. It was the height of the Vietnam War, the Civil Rights Movement, and all the social tumult of that time. Even though I was energetically caught up in all of that, none of it concerned me in this moment. It was leaving my dad all summer when he relied on me.

I stayed with him in the summers during college, worked in his radio business, and took care of him as best I could. My parents were divorced several years earlier so my dad and I had lived apart for some time. He had nurses, and my new step-mother, and my brother and sister within reasonable distance. But my dad and I had a different bond, a deeper one.

I didn’t fully understand our bond until after he died. It only slowly dawned on me in the months that followed when I didn’t have him to talk to, to joke with and to share with – to love. I remembered how he would stay up late at night to listen to me run my nighttime music show on his radio station in Orlando. The next morning after I got some sleep he would critique my performance while we ate cereal together.

He applauded my good grades in school, cheered my athletic success, and enjoyed my creative endeavors. He taught me the radio business. When he told me he would pay for me to get my private pilot’s license I was thrilled. He had been a flight instructor during World War Two. I don’t know if I ever truly thanked him for any of this.

When I was in high school, even with his painful illness, he would drive the 90 miles up to Gainesville on a weekend to watch me play baseball. He thought they should put me in the outfield more often, not just first base. “You can catch the ball!” he’d exclaim. “But you also have a great arm.” He didn’t mind I batted near the bottom of the order.

Early in June my plane tickets were set and I was a week away from embarking on my journey. I still wasn’t sure. My dad encouraged me to go, said he’d be fine, told me this was my once in a lifetime chance to have this adventure. I thought he was only being brave, and selfless. I turned to friends and family. They too urged me to go. They said, “If you cancel the trip and stay here he’ll think you did it because of him and he’ll be miserable.” I figured they were right. So I boarded the plane on schedule and landed in Brussels with my backpack, passport and a bunch of Travelers Checks.

A few years earlier my dad tried to talk me out of going to college in California. He said he thought I’d feel out of place, that I should stay in Florida among friends and familiar surroundings. I already knew the ropes here, he reminded me. I realized later his pitch was because he was going to miss me. At that time I didn’t know how sick he really was. He didn’t tell me. He chose not to influence my decision that way.

Following that summer of 1970 I never celebrated another birthday with my dad, or another Christmas. But every Father’s Day I have my bowl of cereal and I tell him how my year went.

I don’t remember how often I thanked my dad, or how often I told him I loved him. All I know is it wasn’t nearly enough.

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