It's the most wonderful time of the year. Yes, the Olympics are around the corner, as you know, and the Opening Ceremonies start on Friday. With the competition to begin the next day. Except...well -- at least that’s what I thought. It’s not true. The Olympics have already started! Really. Last night, while lying in bed, getting ready to go to sleep, I was flipping around the channels when all of a sudden I looked at the on-screen guide and saw – the Olympics! On the USA Network. Women’s soccer, Mali vs. Israel. And not only that, but right after, they had women’s handball, with Slovenia playing Denmark. And it didn’t stop there either – and wasn’t just these small, under-the-wire contests, but at 3 AM, the had the USA women’s soccer team playing Zambia. And went on all night. And continued all day. The Olympics are on right now as I type this – and will continue through the rest of the day. And all day tomorrow and beyond. In fact, if you weren’t up at three in the morning to watch the USA women play soccer, it’s being repeated tonight at 6 PM Los Angeles time. For that matter, tomorrow morning early – at 5 AM Los Angeles time, so maybe at 8 AM on the East Coast – the USA men’s soccer team will be on the USA Network playing home country France. The reason for this is that several sports have qualifying “pool” rounds to determine who gets to play in the final bracket. And if they waited to begin competition until after the Opening Ceremonies, they wouldn't finish the medal round in time. So, there’s actually a lot going on. And happily and joyously fun, too, they even had a featurette by my favorite Mary Carillo. In the past couple of Olympics they haven’t used her as much as they should, but if they already have one of her pieces on the very first day, maybe, possibly, hopefully they’ll have more. She does these wonderfully, offbeat, funny but smart and interesting Olympic stories about the culture of the home country. Her story last night was on the French love of escargot, and spent a lot of time on a snail farm, talking with a snail farmer. It was great. He used to be in tech, but decided he wanted a slower life. And yes, there were a lot of “slow” jokes. She and the snail farmer even had a race between two snails – to see whose would cover 6 inches first. (The snail farmer’s won.) She also interviewed a woman at a high end Paris restaurant that specialized in escargot. So, please, let there be more Mary Carillo!!! (And at the very least, please let NBC at least post online the few featurettes she does.) I should add that the Olympics have already had two make news stories of notable controversy. One was that an assistant coach of Canada's women soccer team and an "unaccredited analyst with Canada Soccer" were caught using a drone to (inexplicably) reason spy on New Zealand. Pointlessly, given how highly ranked Canada is and how low-ranked New Zealand is. The assistant coach withdrew for one game, and the "analyst" was sent home and banned for eight months. The weirder story was that a chef for Team Russia, who has been living in France for 14 years, was detained by French police for working with Russia for ways to disrupt the Games. Go figure. Yes, the chef. Police say that terrorism isn't involved, though the intent was cause mischief (my word) throughout the competition. What that exactly means, I don't know. By the way, for those keeping score, Mali and Israel ended up their women’s soccer game 1-1, so each team left with one point for the standings. And the Danish women were ahead of Slovakia in handball 9-8 in the first half before I said, “Okay, that’s enough for tonight…” and turned off the set at 12:25 AM and went to sleep. I love the Olympics. But I do have my limits. More to come. Each day for the next couple of weeks. As I say, We watch the Olympics most of the day so that you don’t have to. Let the Games begin! Early. (By the way, though many people -- perhaps most -- think that the Olympic Theme was written by John Williams, and it's regularly identified that way on YouTube, he didn't. The Olympic Theme is "Bugler's Dream" by Leo Arnaud. What John Williams wrote is "Olympic Fanfare," which comes in here below around the 1:00 mark. And together they make a wonderful piece of music.
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More than a few friends periodically ask me, “Why do you keep posting on Twitter? Isn't it crazy there?" I always answer that, yes, Twitter is incredibly crazy – indeed, ever since Elon Musk took over and opened the door wide with a welcome mat for racists, anti-Semites, fascists and lunatic conspiratorialists, it’s become even crazier and nastier. But I stay because…Anatevka’s our home. Wait, sorry, wrong musical. I stay because the election is too important not to put on a protective helmet and respond to lies, lies, more lies, disinformation and hate.
All that holds true, though I’m not sure that TwiXter hasn’t morphed into something else that might not be worth – well, I won’t say “the time,” but – as much time. What it’s become is whack-a-mole. The lies, disinformation and crazy theories have become so pervasive that there’s no way to respond to even an angel’s breath of them. The one you do respond to is only one of probably hundreds or thousands saying the same thing. And that one may have two or three lunatic screeds within it to refute – an even bigger challenge for responding since TwiXtter only allows 288 characters in a tweet. (You can, of course, respond with more than one tweet, but there’s no guarantee each will be seen by the people following the initial discussion, and so they only react to the one they see.) Further, a rational response of reality to a conspiratorialist will generally be dismissed simply for the fact that you made it. Disagreement with a conspiracy theory is often “proof enough” that you’re compromised or an agent of the devil or whatever. That’s why I often don’t even try to debate, since arguing with facts and reality don’t matter. So, instead I have written a default reply that I just copy-paste in. It reads – “This below is from someone who supports a man convicted of 34 felonies, found liable for rape, guilty of business fraud, says he wants to be a dictator, wants to rewrite some of the Constitution, echoes HITLER’s words, says he wants to build internment camps & has early dementia.” And yes, that’s just under the 288 character limit. I made sure of it. Thank goodness, too, that God created the “Block” button. It’s made life so much better. Alas, it’s not a panacea. Another main reason I participate on TwiXter, though, isn’t just to debate disinformation and hate from “the other side” – but to shore up support of those who agree with me or maybe need talking down from the ledge. Unfortunately, the lunacy has now begun to permeate though the edges of one's own side, as well. And that, perhaps more than the hate and racism, is what is making it almost not worth spending as much time in the morass. When your “friends” are driving you nuts, and arguing with you if you don't support them in everything and are telling you off, that’s when you think maybe you should make sure you always know where the nearest exit is. The great thing about the Democratic Party is that it’s, as the expression goes, “a big tent.” Filled with many views. The hurdle the Democratic Party has to deal with is that it’s a big tent – filled with many views. The party has long been known for eating its young. As humorist Will Rogers famously said back in the 1930s, almost 100 years ago, “I’m not a member of any organized political party. I’m a Democrat.” And I’m okay with that. The different views are what give Democrats their vibrancy and strength. But in recent days, starting months ago, the “What I heard is's …” have grown louder – never mind almost no one on TwiXter is in any position to “hear” anything from a direct, informed source, but are just passing along a rumor based on a rumor. And the fear of “what if Trump wins…” has begun to color views, to the point that disagreement is less tolerated. And surface-level conspiracies have begun to creep in. (Rational, but unsupportable ones, not "JFK is coming back to life.") A “We should boycott...” attitude also now permeates over anything you don’t like, for many. “That reporter is really a Trumper” because the reporter asks hard questions to a Democrat is something that has begun to crop up all over, as well. Just yesterday, I saw a few more cries for MSNBC to drop Jen Psaki. Apparently she’s been more critical of President Biden than many people think is appropriate, since she worked for him. I replied to one by saying, “Personally, I admire any reporter seriously trying to be objective and honest even against their friends, whether I agree with their opinion or not. It’s their job.” Just yesterday, too, TwiXter was bombarded with Democrats red-hot outraged at Adam Schiff for calling on President Biden to leave the race. While I certainly understand people being upset, I can make a great case for him staying in the race or leaving. What I don’t like much is when politicians make the case publicly for dropping out, since they have direct access to the real power brokers that the rest of the public doesn’t have. But being upset at Schiff’s decision (or supporting it) is one thing. It’s another to see the tsunami of questions on social media about if he’s been bought off, is his campaign in trouble, is he out of money, “I heard on the street that…” (yes, someone actually said that) and how, oh my God, this is trouble for California. I left as many replies as I could saying that -- “Steve Garvey outraised Adam Schiff this last quarter by $1 million. Overall, however, Schiff has outraised Garvey by almost $30 million. He has $3 million more cash on hand than Garvey. And a poll just showed that Rep. Schiff was leading former first-baseman Garvey by 25 points! No, Adam Schiff is not in trouble or bought off.” But there are only so many times you can keep posting that. Just yesterday, again -- and yes, this is all just yesterday -- perhaps my favorite exchange of the day came from someone trying to drag me into an argument because she disagreed with something I wrote and, in doing so, made a claim of fact that, in fact, had no basis as “fact.” So, how do I respond?, I wondered. I checked her bio, laughed, and wrote back – “I see in your bio that you have disdain for the left and antipathy for the right. Fair enough, but that's not an arena I care to participate in, so someone else is going to have to jump in and debate with you. Not me.” And that’s why God also created the “Mute” button. And none of these "yesterday" tales were were from the other side of the aisle. So – we’ll see. I’ll continue posting on TwiXter to provide links to my articles here. And I’ll continue posting thoughts about news stories. And I’ll let my eyes drift over other posts to see if there’s anything I strongly agree with and want to lend support – or anything (especially from a MAGOP official) that’s a blatant, egregious lie or disinformation that I want to refute. Or…who knows?, perhaps continue replying to a range of topics (being careful not to get dragged into whack-a-mole) – as long as I follow what may possibly be a new rule: don’t read replies. Or at the very least, debate them. There’s still too much of importance with the election to depart TwiXter, But I never much cared for playing whack-a-mole in a game box, so I can’t see any reason to start playing it online. Yesterday, England defeated the Netherlands in soccer (or football, or whatever you want to call it) and made it to finals of the World Cup, which will be played on Sunday. This is a huge deal for the country which is one of the more soccer-crazed countries in the world, which is saying a lot. So, I thought in its honor, I'd post this article that I've posted several times in the past, originally 10 years ago in 2024. It's about when I was just a wee kidling on a family trip, and we somehow got tickets -- and truly amazing tickets -- to the opening game of the 1966 World Cup...which was the last time England won the World Cup. But that's only part of the tale, and not even the most remarkable part. Which is why I call it -- One of the Greatest Sports Miracles EverNow that the World Cup has started, and the United States has come up with a miracle victory, I thought this would be a good time to tell the story of not only one of the greatest, unknown World Cup miracles, but one of the all-time great sports miracles, period. It's how my family and I got to see the World Cup in London, 1966, And I'm serious. Okay, no, it's not the upstart United States hockey team beating the Soviet steamrollers. Or the unknown Roulon Gardner defeating the unbeaten, invincible legend Alexander Karelin. It's not Kirk Gibson hitting a home run on one leg, or Doug Flutie's Hail Mary. But those are more remarkable physical achievements by talented athletic. This was an act of otherworldly intervention. When I was but a wee kidling, my family took a summer trip to Europe. One of our stops was London, where as fate would have it, the British were hosting the World Cup that year. As maniacal as we know the rest of the world is over soccer, England might be the home of soccer insanity. In a land known for tradition, soccer riots are de rigeur there. If you're not rioting, you're not trying. Nonetheless, my dad thought it would fun to see a World Cup match. (Note: The concept of it being "fun" to see a World Cup match is not relatable for most soccer fans, most especially those who are the aforementioned British. "Fun" is a nice get together for tea, or taking your dog for walkies. Being able to see a World Cup match in England is closer to being life-affirming.) And so, uncaring of the obstacles, my dad found out how to apply to the world lottery being held to get tickets He sent in his form and enclosed his check, and then went on with his life. Meanwhile, throughout England there was national prayer held nightly in homes throughout the country, if only the Almighty would grant them a ticket. We got four tickets. But that's not the story, it's not even close to the miracle. It's just the heavens warming up. Because, you see, we just get four tickets to the World Cup, we got them for...the Opening Match! Which would be filled with grand celebration and royalty. But thing is -- that's not the story, either. Because, again you see, featured in the Opening Match of World Cup 1968 was a team that it was likely British fans -- so knowledgeable of all the great teams in the world -- would dearly would love to see. That team was England. Yes, that's right. By just randomly sending in to the worldwide lottery, we got four tickets to the Opening Match of the World Cup between England and Uruguay, held in London at Wembley Stadium. And here's the thing: no, that's not the sports miracle, either. I should note that we were very happy to get the tickets. Not "mad-crazy-happy, my life has been made whole" like anyone in England would have been to get those four tickets, but certainly happy. But happy as in, boy, this will be fun. I mean, to be honest, one has to put this in perspective. Wembley Stadium is huge, after all. It seats 90.000 people, which is 80,000 more than the town, Glencoe, we lived in. So, the chances of seeing the match very well were small. And not being mad-crazy soccer fanatics, not being able to see the game very well in the nosebleed section would certainly lessen the majesty of the moment. But still, that didn't matter all that much, since I was pretty young and didn't know the rules of soccer all that well. (I can't speak for the rest of my family, though I suspect I knew more than my mother. You kick the ball and hope it goes in the net.) But just being there in the massive crowd, somewhere, anywhere, amid all the excitement, that would be cool. Just to be able to say we were there. Wherever "there" was. Where "there" was turned out to be -- okay, are you ready: mid-field, center line, halfway up, directly across the field from where the Queen of England was sitting in the Royal Box. Okay, that's the sports miracle. Let me repeat. With the entire world of sports fanatics converging on London, England, for the World Cup, we got four tickets to the Opening Match in which the host country England was playing, seated at midfield halfway up Wembley Stadium across from the Queen of England. Seriously. And to be clear, this isn't the fuzzy memory of a little kid recalling things far better than they actually were. Exaggerating for posterity. No, I have photographic evidence. I took pictures. (Sorry for the guy's head. I wasn't great at composition at that age.) Look directly across the field. Do you see that "box" just below the horizontal white line, marking the upper level? That's where the Royal Family is sitting. Directly opposite us. If you look closely, I believe that Queen Elizabeth is waving at you. I told you I wasn't lying. It was pretty remarkable. As I said to my dad just a couple days ago, reminding of the story, if he had decided to sell these tickets it would have paid for the entire trip. "And," he added, "your college education. And your brother's." The crowd, the ceremony, the excitement, the game, it was great. Memorable to one's bones. Absolutely wonderful, historic. There was only one disappointing thing about the match. Ever since I knew we had the tickets, one of the things I was looking forward to seeing was England score a goal amid that maniacal crowd going soul-bursting wild for the home team. (Even at that age, I grasped the concept of such drama.) And the final score of the game between England and Uruguay was...0-0. Zippo. Or as the soccer folks like to say, "Nil." Or more accurately, nil to nil. (More action photos from the collection of photo-journalist Robert J. Elisberg. Notice the compositional improvement after many minutes of experience represented here by the lack of heads getting at least completely in the way. Hey, when you're a little kid, people are bigger than you are.) So, no bursting of massive cheers by the heart-loyal English crowd at the site of the goal for their beloved home team. No cheers over a goal from anyone. On the good side, at least we weren't there to see England lose. In fact, just so you know, the zero goals were not the result of a mediocre team. Indeed, host England went on to win the world championship. They just didn't choose to get any goals that particular day. Hey, that's the way some miracles go. Sometimes, the fates decide to put the miracle in perspective. After all, you shouldn't take the good and miracle for granted. But a dozen years before Al Michaels asked the question of sports fans at the Lake Placid Olympics, I had already been able to answer the sports question. Yes, I do believe in miracles. When I next get together with the Queen, I'm sure we'll swap tales of that day. No doubt it wasn't as much a sports miracle for her -- I'm sure she had an in, or went to a scalper -- but it was nonetheless quite a day of national pomp and circumstance, so I'm sure she had to have written about it in her journal. For all I know, she's got snapshots of me in return. When talking with my dad about this the other day, he noted one other thing. "How did I get those seats??" It was a miracle, dad. The greatest sports miracle ever. At least to some people. I had no idea, but on the Fourth of July, Oscar-winning actress Eva Marie Saint celebrated her 100th birthday. That explains why Turner Classic Movies not only made her the "Featured Star of the Month" and on the Fourth ran several of his classic movies along with an hourlong interview that she did with then-host Robert Osborne back in 2014. According to math, that would have made her 90 at the time, though during the interview at one point she mentions being 88. (It’s possible that although this was broadcast in 2014, it might have taken place the year before, and though 88 at the time, she was about to turn 89, but hadn’t yet, still before it aired.) The interview is wonderful. She was bright, sharp, funny, honest, open and charming. And told wonderful stories, not just anecdotally, but also with thought intent. It was seriously impressive for (let’s say) 89. I thought it only proper to post the entire interview below. It’s very enjoyable. Some of the clips are gems, most notably from her early days doing live TV. There's a wonderful early-TV scene with her and Jack Lemmon, but I think the standout is a scene from the live TV production she did of The Trip to Bountiful, opposite -- Lilian Gish! She won her Oscar for her very first movie, On the Waterfront, which isn't shabby, working with a lot of her now-legendary Actors Studio compatriots, but for me, my standout favorite will always be North by Northwest. (From the reaction of the audience in attendance, every time it's mentioned, that seems to be their favorite, as well.) But the list of gems (and range of genres) is long -- from Exodus to Raintree County, Grand Prix, The Sandpiper and, from what she briefly says, a favorite of hers, The Russians are Coming The Russians are Coming. Not to mention that she kept doing theater. A slight digression. Hearing some of these stories in the show about Old Hollywood reminded me of a tale of my own that has a slight overlap that’s worth adding here. Maybe 30 years ago, a good friend of mine David Rintels – a former president of the Writer Guild who wrote some classic, award-winning mini-series like WWII: When Lions Roared (with Michael Caine, Bob Hoskins and John Lithgow), Andersonville and Nuremberg (that won an Emmy for Brian Cox), as well as the Broadway one-man play Clarence Darrow with Henry Fonda – had written a made-for-TV movie and invited a group of friends to a watch party. I was lucky enough to be invited, because David has some good friends. (A couple months back, I was discussing politics with David – who now lives on the East Coast – and he mentioned that he’d talked about the matter at hand with one of his recent house guest…Laurence Tribe. Because what he said Tribe told him contradicted my point, I gave David the win on that one.) I’m pretty shy at parties and tend to hang out at the buffet table, and then eventually make way with my plate to a sofa where I could eat. At one point, an elderly lady came over, asked if she could sit, and we had an enjoyable conversation. Actually, it was more like an interview, because she asked most of the question, interested in me and what I was doing. I got a few questions in, but she was very nice and really was simply more inquisitive. We were nearing the end of our conversation, perhaps five to 10 minutes, and as she was about to get up and leave, a thought hit me like a crescendo. “Oh, my God,” I thought to myself. “That’s Eva Marie Saint!!!!” And before I could say anything else, we’d said goodbye, and she wandered off. She was really extremely nice. And it was year later when I read something about her and how her reputation was that she was really extremely nice. I didn’t need the confirmation, but it was good to read. So, that’s my “slight overlap.” And yes, I was an idiot. Of course, she didn't look exactly like she did in North by Northwest 30 years earlier. And I've always had a low-level case of "face blindless," not great at remembering faces. But still. It was Eva Marie Saint on the sofa, four feet away. I was an idiot. My one saving grace is knowing how nice she was and asking questions about me that I'd like to think she was glad to have a nice, normal conversation and not have the person just gushing over her. Not that I tend to gush. But...well, that's my "saving grace" hope. Whether it has any bearing in reality, I don't know. But she didn't evince the slightest sense of being put off that I didn't recognize her. But then, in fairness, and happily, I did recognize her! Just...well, far, far too late. And here’s the TCM interview. You’ll see for yourself how really extremely nice she comes across. It’s not an acclaimed actress putting on a show. That’s her. Now, 100. Yesterday, in one of its end-of-the-year decisions, Snyder v. U.S., the Supreme Court ruled to allow political bribery. Really. Not all political bribery, just if it’s not after the fact, and with a knowing wink.
The case concerned the cash-strapped, then-mayor of Portage, Indiana, who prosecutors charged rigged the bidding for new garbage trucks and afterwards receive a “thank you for being good at your job” gift from the head of the truck company that won the bid. Justice Neil Gorsuch referred to this as a “gratuity” and equated this $13,000 "gratuity" to a mayor to taking a teacher to the Cheesecake Factory as a thank you. Really. What's the difference, Justice Gorsuch wondered -- no doubt as Justices Thomas and Alito giggled. As they put out a "We accept tips" jar. One difference, of course, is that if you ate $13,000 worth of cheesecake at one sitting, it would probably kill you. It all concerned a federal statute known as §666 (man, is that number appropriate here…), which deals with gifts that state and local officials can accept. (The ruling does not appear to pertain to federal officials, though if not, it would see an easy next step.) The decision was written by Justice Brett Kavanaugh, apparently with a straight face, though he tried to justify it by saying the ruling doesn’t transcend local laws against bribery. It only provides a map for driving around them. Kavanaugh wrote that "State and local governments often regulate the gifts that state and local governments may accept. The federal law] does not supplement those state and local rules by subjecting 19 million state and local officials to up to 10 years in federal prison for accepting even commonplace gratuities. Rather, [the federal law] leaves it to state and local governments to regulate gratuities to state and local officials." See?! There’s that “Gratuities” again. It’s hard not to love it. Kavanaugh added that “state or local official can violate §666 when he accepts an up-front payment for a future official act or agrees to a future reward for a future official act. But a state or local official does not violate §666 if the official has taken the official act before any reward is agreed to, much less given. Although a gratuity offered and accepted after the official act may be unethical or illegal under other federal, state, or local laws, the gratuity does not violate §666." At the very least, I hope he got a chuckle out of all those references about not violating “666.” As much as he – and Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito -- must have loved calling them “gratuities.” What the Justices voting in the affirmative here seem to miss (or see clearly, but just didn’t care) is that a ten buck tip is one thing, but when you hit $13,000 to a public official, whenever it’s given, the rotting fish starts to smell. For that matter, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are state and local laws prohibiting public officials accepting a $10 “gratuity.” After all, once the first public official (and would-be briber) knows they can get away with getting an after-the-fact bribe, as long as nothing was agreed to officially beforehand, then all public officials know they can, too. And further, that erodes public trust in government. Y’know, the whole “Appearance of impropriety” thingee. Though perhaps when some Justices like Clarence Thomas are dealing with $4 million worth of “gratuities,” a $13,000 tip probably is just pocket change. Just to put some perspective on this all, I have a grad school friend Peter Carlisle who was the Chief Prosecuting Attorney of Honolulu for about 16 years, and then got elected the city’s mayor. At one point while in office – after he announced for mayor – he flew to Southern California for a conference of law officials in Orange County. But instead of lying there directly, he flew to Los Angeles, so we could visit. I picked him up at the airport, and after paying for parking, I handed him the $8 LAX receipt, since it did me no good – but he wouldn’t accept it. He said this flight to Los Angeles was a pleasure visit, not an official government trip. If he’d flown directly to Orange County, that would have been different. Yes, I know, that might be carrying things to extremes, but that’s also how the concept of being honorable and the “Appearance of impropriety” works. Note to Justices Thomas, Alito, Gorsuch, Kavanaugh. Roberts and Coney-Barrett: See above. And just know that Peter Carlisle is not a tree-hugging liberal, he’s a Republican. So, it’s actually possible. Rare though such things apparently may be. I was going to say that it probably helps when you were a Chief Prosecuting Attorney for 16 years, but then an image of Rudy Giuliani popped into mind. Though I would like to believe he’s the exception. Though given the conservative majority on the Supreme Court, I don’t know if my belief is supported. In case you find this ruling too bizarre to believe, you can read a full article about it all here. And this seems an appropriate place to add that if you have enjoyed these free columns over the years, just click on the "Buy Now on Amazon.com" icon in the upper right of any page before the next time you go to Amazon to buy anything. It will take you directly to Amazon as normal, but a code will be attached so that I will receive about .000001% of whatever you buy during that session. Last year, I made about $20 this way! (Thanks to everyone who participated. After the fact, of course.) Oh, sure, it's not exactly a "gratuity," and not anywhere near $13,000. But if I keep it up for another 650 years, I'll be there! Also, I offer nothing in advance for this. The only thing I guarantee is that during the next six centuries, I will at some point write about Chicago and reference the beloved Northwestern University. The other day, I had an email exchange with a friend that began after he’d read my article, “Onward, Christian Scolders," about evangelicals claiming to be 'Christian Warriors' yet slavishly following the leadership of someone who, if it wasn’t Trump, would likely be described by them as a heathen. My friend wrote back that “We are a sick country.” It’s an highly understandable comment that I’ve heard a great deal – as I’m sure others have, as well. However, it always bugs me more than a bit, since it mixes the healthy part of the country (which includes rational Republicans) in with the delusional. So I replied, “I will add an Elisbergian rose-colored codicil: We are not a sick country. We just have a large portion of it that’s sick. And not willing to get vaccinated for it.” He understood the point, thought it a good comment…though a quibble. As he wrote in reply -- “If half of your body is sick, you are sick. Even if a third of your body is sick, you are sick. “We are sick.” I thought about that at length, because I too understood what he was saying. But I still didn’t agree with it. And so I wrote a very long response back on why I stood by my thought. However, as I explain in my reply, I realized it went on much too long and went into an unnecessary direction because we’d both gone off-track. What I instead said was -- I stand by my quibble. Though it’s more than a quibble. Here’s what I mean: What you say is true for a human body. And I do understand its application for a country, as an analogy. Outside of analogies, however, a country is not a single body. It is made up of wildly diverse human bodies. And states and cities. And often does exist as a single entity. And as a democracy, it exists by majority rule. While (ideally) protecting the minority. Human bodies don’t. I wrote a long continuation of this argument – and it was a great one! Detailed and eloquent, near Churchillian in its detail and semantics -- but I realized it was just a silly, linguistic discussion. That we’d gotten off the point. Instead, I deleted it and decided it’s far better to put it this way: You and I are hung up on the word “sick.” And it’s not really “sick” at all, a medical term. (Some is medical – delusion, dementia.) But really what we are talking about is people who are willing to ignore things they don’t like. And dismiss science. And don’t understand what fascism is, but (while claiming to be patriots) enable and accept fascism. And threaten with violence those who rebut this, which is a tenet of fascism. And work to undermine opposing power sources, which is a tenet of fascism. And want to change laws to ensure they get their way contrary to democratic values, which is a tenet of fascism. So, for simplicity’s sake, we’ll call that problem we’re talking about -- “They’re fascist.” And I would say that maybe 30-40% of the country is willingly (if unknowingly), literally “fascist.” But I would not say, if 30-40% of the country is fascist, then that means “The country is fascist.” The country is still a democracy. But that 30-40% has become fascist. And it’s deeply troubling. To be clear, I do understand your point, completely. And I don’t think it’s inherently wrong to say, “The country is sick.” I hear it a lot, and I get it. It’s addressing a reality of deep problems the entire country must deal with. But – (and this is not “rose-colored glasses,” because I absolutely recognize the problems and write about it all daily and in depth) I refuse to be considered “sick” in my views, which would be the case if it was “like” a human body that is sick because it has an illness. I am not sick, you are not sick. Most of the country is not sick. Nor (importantly) is the country fascist. Rather, 30-40% of it is. That’s why I personally express it: the country has a serious problem of fascism spreading, and far too much of it is delusional, sick and has chosen to literally ignore reality. And I understand you standing by “The country is sick.” Fair enough. I just won’t say it, for those reasons. And in the end, happily, my friend agreed. |
AuthorRobert J. Elisberg is a political commentator, screenwriter, novelist, tech writer and also some other things that I just tend to keep forgetting. Feedspot Badge of Honor
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