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The real ‘enemy within’ has been voted in again. Now what?
My neighbor Swamp Rabbit was drinking beer and praising a popular blogger who said the Democratic Party leaders, not Trump voters, are to blame for our election disaster. The party shouldn’t have waited so long to ditch the doddering Joe Biden, shouldn’t have nominated Kamala Harris, shouldn’t have said the economy was improving, on and on.
“Wrong,” I said. The Democratic Party is run by complacent fools and Harris was arguably a weak candidate, but she was running against Donald Trump, a convicted felon who tried to block certification of the 2020 election and is now vowing to eliminate our country’s “enemy from within,” whatever that means. Voters knew what the stakes were but a majority of them, eyes wide open, elected the same insurrectionist bigot who squeaked out a presidential victory in 2016.
“I’m bummed out too, but there ain’t no point belly-achin’,” Swamp Rabbit said. “Trump took a page out of Hitler’s book and made the most of his one big talent — spreading fear and hate. He convinced the peeps to believe his lies.”
I picked up one of my mangy neighbor’s empty beer cans and threw it at him. “Wrong again. Trump didn’t have to convince them. It’s like I said last week.”
Last week I said that Trump’s peeps know he’s a pathological liar. They know he wanted to “terminate” the Constitution in order to overthrow the 2020 election results. They know he’s on good terms with certain dictators, including Vladimir Putin, who crushed democracy in Russia and is trying to destroy Ukraine and the NATO alliance.
They know he said that drinking bleach might help cure Covid, that wind turbines cause cancer, that climate change is a hoax, that Haitian immigrants are eating our cats and dogs, that it’s OK to grab women “by the pussy” and beat up anyone who disagrees with the MAGA creed, that —
“OK, I get it, but he’s giving his peeps what they want, don’t you think?” Swamp Rabbit said. “He says he’ll deport millions of Mexicans, cut taxes and bring down the price of eggs.”
“He’s giving them empty promises and a preview of life in an autocracy. He’s not giving me what I want, or any of the people I respect and care about.”
Swamp Rabbit popped open another beer and sat back in the rocking chair I trash-picked for him last month. “Lighten up, or you’ll blow a gasket. Remember what Kamala said — We all have so much more in common than what separates us.”
“Sorry, but I’ve got nothing in common with the people who voted for that evil clown, and neither do you. I plan to avoid them as much as possible and hang out with civilized people who know enough history to appreciate how hard it is to get rid of fascists once they’re in power. I guess I’ll make like Candide and cultivate my garden.”
Swamp Rabbit got a kick out of that one. “I can see your garden from here, Odd Man. So far the only thing you’re cultivatin’ is weeds.”
Posted in history, humor, mainstream media, Politics
Tagged Adolph Hitler, Candide, Cultivate your garden, Donald Trump, election disaster, Kamala Harris, Vladimir Putin, Voltaire
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The spooky season isn’t over yet
“You’re a little late with your Halloween playlist,” my neighbor Swamp Rabbit said. “And you didn’t decorate the front of your shack. The only treat you got left is candy corn. That stuff is lethal.”
I told him to think of Halloween as a season rather than a one-day event. The event is over but the days are still growing shorter, and the world is spookier than ever, especially with the presidential election only a few days away and the outcome in doubt. In fact, this is probably the scariest Halloween in living memory.
“You ain’t wrong, I guess,” he said. “The peeps are strange, and that’s a fact. This time next week we might all be runnin’ with the devil.”
“Running from the devil, more likely.” I said. “Unless there’s a national exorcism.”
The plot against America thickens
I was telling my neighbor Swamp Rabbit that Philip Roth would have been appalled but not surprised by the deification of Donald Trump at Madison Square Garden earlier this week. Roth, who died in 2018, depicted a fascist nightmare taking shape in his novel The Plot Against America (2004), which traces an alternative history in which FDR loses the 1940 election to Nazi sympathizer Charles Lindbergh and the United States becomes an ally of Nazi Germany. The author’s message is that the bad guys could take over here as quickly as they did in Germany in the 1930s.
“What’s all that got to do with Trump?” Swamp Rabbit said. “Didn’t you hear Hulk Hogan say there weren’t no ‘stinkin’ Nazis’ at Trump’s Garden rally?”
I did indeed hear a recording of Hogan’s speech. And I heard the comedian who said Puerto Rico was a “floating island of garbage,” an old friend of Trump who called Kamala Harris “the antichrist,” a radio guy who complained that “f$#%king illegals get everything they want,” and similar statements by a whole raft of uglies eager to kiss Trump’s ass.
Trump spoke last and vowed to “launch the largest deportation program in American history,” perhaps unaware he was echoing the German American Bund leader who expressed similar anti-immigrant sentiments at a pro-Nazi rally held in February 1939 at Madison Square Garden (one of three previous incarnations of the Garden, not the current arena).
“There you go again,” Swamp Rabbit said. “Making a big deal of the fact that Trump’s fans are as dumb and nasty as he is. Implying that he and them MAGA boys, just because they talk and act like Nazis in the 1930s, are planning to make America a fascist state.”
He smiled, unable to disguise his irony. He knows what the Trumpers will do to the country if they get the chance.
“Don’t forget to vote for Harris,” he said.
Posted in fiction, history, humor, mainstream media, Politics
Tagged Donald Trump, Madison Square Garden, Philip Roth, The Plot Against America
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Are Trump fans blind? No, it’s worse than that.
Here’s Robert Reich, echoing the thoughts of sane people all over the country:
… At this moment, I’m frankly worried. How is it even possible that Trump is tied with Harris in the battleground states that will determine who becomes president? How can so many Americans be blind to who Trump is and what he intends to do?
Good questions. Donald Trump says the 2020 election was rigged despite abundant evidence to the contrary. He’ll claim the 2024 election was rigged if he doesn’t win. He has falsely accused immigrants of being rapists even though he’s the guy who was convicted of sexual assault. He has threatened to order the military to crack down on “the enemy within,” meaning anyone who disapproves of him. He praised Hitler and his generals, and eulogized Arnold Palmer’s penis.
“Is Reich right?” I asked. “Is the MAGA crowd blind?”
“Not really,” my neighbor Swamp Rabbit replied. “Angry and hateful maybe, but they ain’t blind.”
But Trump has been impeached twice and faces multiple criminal indictments. He encouraged an insurrection to block certification of Joe Biden’s victory in 2020 and called for “termination” of the Constitution to clear the way for his reinstatement as president. John Kelly and other former members of the Trump team say he’s a fascist. Like us, they fear for the survival of democracy in America.
“In light of all these facts, how could Trump supporters not be blind?” I said, persisting.
“They see what they want to see,” Swamp Rabbit explained. “They ain’t concerned about high-fallutin’ concepts like democracy, or about freedom of speech and freedom of the press and all that other good stuff in the Bill of Rights. If the Constitution got terminated a lot of them wouldn’t even care, not if Trump brought down the price of eggs, blocked immigration, didn’t raise taxes and kept black people in line. They wanna feel safe.”
“But that’s ridiculous,” I said, frustrated now. “Trump wants to be dictator. If he gets elected again, no one will be safe except for billionaire pigs like Elon Musk and Peter Thiel who think freedom and democracy are incompatible. They want to replace democracy with corporate government.”
“You ain’t listening,” my swampy neighbor said. “The MAGA crowd don’t care. They’re mad at the government. They can live with a tyrant if they think the tyrant is on their side. Quit thinking they can be nagged into doing the right thing. Just vote for Kamala Harris and hope most voters do the same.”
Posted in humor, immigration, mainstream media, Politics, taxes
Tagged Arnold Palmer, Bill of Rights, Donald Trump, Elon Musk, Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, MAGA, Peter Thiel
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From Red October to Dead October
Editor’s note: Red October was the name used by the Philadelphia Phillies’ corporate advertising machine to herald what was supposed to be the team’s victory march through the National League playoffs and the World Series. Here’s a transcript of my phone texts with my neighbor Swamp Rabbit right after the New York Mets demolished the Phillies in the playoffs this week:
Swamp Rabbit: I really, really, really hate the Phillies.
Swamp Rabbit again: And I really don’t want to hear any more excuses from [Phillies manager] Rob Thomson.
Odd Man Out: Yes and yes, but I feel sorry for Thomson. What can you do when your star players all fail at the same time — bench them and send in their mediocre backups? And how can you explain what went wrong if you’re not really free to speak your mind? You can’t criticize the stars, especially in front of reporters, lest you get on their bad side and risk losing your job.
Swamp Rabbit: I don’t get it. Why is Thomson the guy who might lose his job? Them stars get paid to win the big games. It ain’t Thomson’s fault if they lose because they swing at bad balls and try to hit home runs instead of just trying to get on base.
Odd Man Out: The four guys at the top of the Phillies’ starting lineup are collectively making about $800 million over the course of their contracts. They have more power than the manager. They can’t be traded for screwing up because the other Major League Baseball teams won’t pick up their enormous salaries. And if they’re fired, they still get their money.
Swamp Rabbit: That don’t make no sense. Why get yourself into a mess like that?
Odd Man Out: A capitalist’s dilemma. The team owners invest a ton of money trying to field a championship team. They get a lot of that money back from broadcast rights and from the team’s mostly middle-class fans who can afford to spend big money on super-expensive tickets and concessions and souvenirs and all that. But the whole scheme can go south if the team loses, and the fans lose faith and stop spending.
Swamp Rabbit: You’re sayin’ there ain’t no way to fix the mess?
Odd Man Out: The team owners can make Thomson and his coaching staff the scapegoats to appease Phillies fans who want to see heads roll. They can stop spending money on the team and eventually sell it at a huge profit. But they can’t sanction players with great long-term contracts in the hope of getting them to perform better.
Swamp Rabbit: Like I said, I really hate them guys. Baseball stars are a bunch of pampered, overpaid, unaccountable prima donnas, as smug as the zillionaires who own the teams. I’m done with following baseball.
Odd Man Out: Give me a break. You’re done until April when the next season starts. We need sports to take our minds off what’s going on in the real world.
Trump’s dog day debate performance
In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs — the people that came in — they’re eating the cats. They’re eating — they’re eating — the pets of the people that live there. And this is what’s happening in our country, and it’s a shame.
“Trump is right,” I told my neighbor Swamp Rabbit as we watched the presidential debate together. “It’s a damn shame what’s happening in our country.”
The shame is that a twice-impeached, insurrectionist nutjob and felon was allowed to run for President of the United States again, and that he still has a fair chance of being elected. But the odds of this were narrowed Tuesday when Kamala Harris suckered him into making a fool of himself in front of millions of viewers.
I spelled it out for Swamp Rabbit: Harris must have sensed that Trump would fail to keep a lid on his looniness if she pushed the right buttons. Sure enough, the old fraud flipped out and launched into his cats-and-dogs rant regarding Haitian immigrants. He also accused Democrats of advocating not only unrestricted abortion but also “execution after birth.” And, of course, he tried to weasel out of responsibility for the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol by a MAGA mob. In Trump’s adolescent mind, he was indicted not because he tried to subvert the 2020 election results but rather because Joe Biden and Harris have a vendetta against him.
But it’s the cats-and-dogs lie voters will remember, just like they remember Trump’s running mate’s “childless cat ladies” insult. (Taylor Swift alluded to it when she endorsed Harris.)
I said, “The funny thing is that Trump doesn’t care about pets. I doubt he ever owned a dog. He hates dogs.”
“I guess so,” Swamp Rabbit replied. “But I betcha he’d eat one of them if you served it up with a big side of cheese fries.”
Give Harris a chance. (Don’t sit this one out, cynics.)
American politics, especially now, does not offer us a choice between a party that favors the rich and one that favors the poor. Clinton cannot be called to account by an electorally nonexistent left. We must choose between a party that neglects the poor and one that savages them, between a party that defers to the rich and one that deifies them, between a party that abjectly apologizes for government and one that demonizes it. One party signs a Faustian contract with the devil. The other party offers the contract. Better Faustus than Mephistopheles.
The above is from a piece Garry Wills wrote in 1996 after President Bill Clinton was nominated for a second term at the 1996 Democratic convention. Wills noted with regret the party’s ongoing efforts to prioritize the interests of rich campaign donors at the expense of rank-and-file Democrats. He may have already sensed that the Dems’ embrace of neoliberal ideas — deregulation, globalization, etc. — might help get Clinton elected again but was alienating a large percentage of working-class voters.
My neighbor Swamp Rabbit read the article and said, “I don’t know about this Faustus guy, but the election racket ain’t changed much since 1996. We still gotta choose the lesser of two evils.”
“This is no time to be cynical,” I told him. “There’s only one evil person running for president, and it’s not Kamala Harris. The left is still ‘electorally nonexistent’ in this country, but it’s important to make the best of things by electing someone who’s more likely to work for the common good than make common cause with billionaire reactionary pigs like Elon Musk and Peter Thiel. It’s common sense.”
Swamp Rabbit tugged on his wispy goatee. “What you mean by common sense? Americans knew Trump was a lyin’ hateful fraud in 2016, but he got elected anyway. “
It was a valid point, but I shrugged it off. “People do stupid, spiteful things when they feel betrayed or threatened. They went for Trump in 2016 but rejected him in 2020, and I’m confident they won’t go back to being stupid in 2024.”
Footnote: Harris can be inconsistent but, as the New Yorker’s John Cassidy recently noted, she thinks “being accused of flip-flopping is a lesser threat to her campaign than giving her opponent the ammunition to brand her as a radical.” I’ll buy that; she’s less than honest at times, like all politicians, but she’s clearly pro-choice, pro-labor and even pro-environment, despite backing off from her previous anti-fracking stance. She’s unlikely to sign a contract with the devil. (Trump already did that, long before he went into politics.)
Posted in globalization, history, humor, mainstream media, mid-term elections
Tagged Bill Clinton, Donald Trump, Elon Musk, Faustus, flip-flop, fracking, Garry Wills, Kamala Harris, New York Times, Peter Thiel
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The solution is fewer cars, but who wants to hear that?
The Philadelphia Parking Authority will more than double the price of a yearly residential parking permit to $75 and cap at three the number of permits each household can buy in an effort to better manage curbside congestion, officials said.
Those changes are scheduled to take effect Sept. 1. The base permit price has been $35 since 1983, when Philadelphia’s neighborhood parking program began.
“This here is an outrage,” Swamp Rabbit said as he showed me the news story about parking permit price hikes. “It’s an attack on my God-given right to own as many cars as I can get financing for and park them where I please. Give me liberty, or give me a house in the suburbs where I don’t have to put up with this shit.”
He was joking, I think. He and I live in adjacent shacks near the Tinicum swamp, in a part of Philly so poor and so far south that the city hasn’t yet bothered to extend its parking program here.
I reminded him that he doesn’t own a car, doesn’t like public transit and is too drunk most of the time to ride a bicycle or one of those sneaky little electric scooters.
“There ain’t no room for bikes in this city,” he said. “The drivers would run me off the road.”
He has a point. There are bike lanes here and there, but parked cars line South Philly streets, many of which have room for only one traffic lane. If there are no legal parking spaces the drivers park at street corners or on the sidewalks. But most pedestrians in South Philly and elsewhere seem unruffled by the fact that noisy, polluting cars take up almost all of their outdoor living space. Drivers are even more oblivious to this reality, of course. My hunch is that most of them could get used to seeing corpses swinging from the light fixtures on telephone poles so long as the corpses didn’t hang low enough to block the roads.
“You’re wrong, Odd Man,” Swamp Rabbit said. “They would drive around the corpses, or just knock them out of the way.”