Regarding "Obamaphobia"

Grandpa Munster look-alike Ted Cruz has been accused of "Obamaphobia" and we see this condition mentioned elsewhere as well.  I don't know whether this word is relatively new or whether it has been around for some time, but it seems apt in describing reactions to the president, given the definition of "phobia" as being an extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to something.

I don't find it easy to take Mr. Cruz, or any other candidate for the presidency of our Great Republic, very seriously.  This may change as this election slouches towards its rude end, but if it does I suspect that I will take them seriously only as threats, more or less significant as the case may be, to our nation.  That said, however, I doubt that even the horrifying prospect of one of them being president will cause me to declaim against them in the hysterical, even demented, manner in which our current president is being castigated and has been castigated by Republicans.

The sickening histrionics of the Republicans in this regard invokes a kind of contempt of them on my part, leading me to sympathize with H.L. Mencken, who wrote: "In this world of sin and sorrow, there is always something to be thankful for; as for me, I rejoice that I am not a Republican."

Naturally, the claim of Obamaphobia is not merely denied, but decried by those accused of it and their defenders, sometimes as being a different way of condemning them for racism.  One wonders, sometimes, at the defensiveness of this response.

I think it is futile to deny that criticism of this president has been extraordinary, not necessarily in its quantity but in its quality.  Even normally sensible people I know become frenzied at his mention.  I can't remember how many times I've heard or read the word "tyranny" used in reference to him--by people who have never experienced tyranny of the kind one finds in history and in other nations.  He's routinely criticized as being godless, or at least described as not-a-Christian (which may amount to the same thing for some).  He is of course called a socialist; this is a milder criticism, however, than others.  Those like Giuliani claim he doesn't "love America."  His efforts to provide a "universal" health care system are considered positively demonic by his opponents. 

How explain such conduct?  It's true that our nation's political history is full of examples of lurid accusations against politicians involving their character (especially by proponents and opponents of our earliest politicians; our Founding Fathers were routinely accused of crimes and moral lapses).  But I can't recall this kind of vituperation directed at recent presidents; not even the much reviled Nixon.

It may be that we simply hear and read more in the way of denunciations because technology now allows everyone to express outrage and to be heard and read, more than ever has been the case.  Anyone can, and will, let all the rest of us know what they think, unsolicited.  It doesn't matter what their qualifications, knowledge or intelligence may be, in general or in particular.  Tell us they will, and the tendency is to tell us in as excited a manner as possible.

It may be that our politics is becoming increasingly contentious.  Some of us may feel that our world is changing, and for the worse, and are rendered furious by the fact that it is doing so.  Obama would be considered a symbol of that change.  That change would seem to be that people who do not conform to what some of us feel is normal and appropriate are obtaining power and becoming prominent in America.  I think this is the case, and is at least in part a cause of Obamaphobia.  He is associated with forces that are anti-Church, anti-traditional America and, I think it must be said, non-white if not anti-white--"white" society and culture being the traditional American society and culture.

Historically, white Protestants have dominated in America.  That began to change as early as the first half of the 19th century when the Irish began arriving.  In the second half of the 19th century and the early 20th century people even "stranger" began to arrive, from southern and eastern Europe.

Gradually, these immigrants began to be tolerated and even took positions of power in America.  The change was in some respects grudging.  But there are places where even they are relatively few, in the South and the West, and it is in those places where it seems most Obamaphobes reside.

President Obama is a strange president, to many.  He doesn't act and doesn't speak as presidents have in living memory.  I personally feel that he has in many ways been ineffective, but his "strangeness" has for me no discernible influence or impact.  I think it has effected others, though, to a very significant extent.

I think we see here and in other things a profound change in what many are used to, and that this change is greatly resented.  Especially when we are relatively comfortable and not distracted by the need to see to our immediate survival, our greatest concern is that there be no change.  The old metal band The Dead Kennedys made an album called Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death.  It mocked us for our love of comfort.  Many of us are being inconvencied by the "new America" and find this intolerable.

Love of Country; Love of Self

Rudy Giuliani was once the Mayor of New York.  Since then, as far as I am aware, he has done nothing but pontificate when called upon to do so or when he is so inclined.  Lately,  he berates our perpetually berated President for not loving America.

This is to say, at the least, that the President does not love our country as much as Mr. Giuliani does, or not enough to satisfy Giuliani.  I'm afraid that when one makes unsolicited comments of this kind one is doing little more than positively calling attention to oneself under the pretense of commenting negatively on another.  This curious bit of "holier than thou" posturing may serve a legitimate purpose, however, if it provides us with an opportunity to wonder just what it means to love one's country, and what one does by loudly proclaiming that one loves one's country.

The great Sage of Baltimore, H.L Mencken, noted:  "Whenever you hear a man speak of his love for his country, it is a sign he expects to be paid for it."  The Sage was a cynical man, you might say.  But consider--when have you heard anyone proclaim that he/she loves his/her country?  In my experience, the person making such a claim does so while on camera and/or while speaking to an audience; at the least, while speaking to a group of people, perhaps while at some celebration or some solemn occasion where war dead are honored. 

It is thus a very public statement or declaration.  It is done for the benefit of others, to impress them in some manner.  One doesn't claim love for one's country as one normally would for one's spouse or child (one would be expected to do so at a wedding or similar ceremony, of course, but these are relatively rare).  Movie characters have been known to announce their love for their wives in the midst of some scene or other, generally in musicals.  But such love is usually declared privately.  It is an intimate statement or declaration.

How do we love our country?  I don't think one would love one's country as one would a person.  So, Mr. Giuliani's even more curious complaint that the President doesn't love him, or "us" either doesn't necessarily follow from the fact the President (according to Giuliani) doesn't love America.  The President of the United State should not be subject to criticism because he does not, like Jesus, love us all; that we are not all precious in his sight, black and yellow, red and white.

One rather love ones country for its beauty, its benefits, as one's home--as a place.

Assuming as I think we must, or at least as we should hope, that "love" is not used by Mr. Giuliani in this case as expressing romantic or sexual desire for America (or for Mr. Giuliani and the rest of us), its use as a verb would presumably be to express his opinion that the President does not cherish America; does not hold it dear, does not have great affection for it.  But if that's the case, his opinion is evidently based on the fact that the President has disturbed him by seeming at times to criticize America and to even have apologized for its conduct in some cases (the latter, apparently, is particularly intolerable to some).

But it should be obvious it's quite possible to be critical of someone or something you nonetheless cherish.  So it would seem the criticism is in essence that the President does not unconditionally love America, or that he does not appear to unconditionally love America--that he does not say he unconditionally love America or does not act like he unconditionally loves it, regardless of his feelings.

It's true that our politicians have typically been effusive in their praise for these United States, and have been careful not to seem otherwise.  Some are even maudlin in their praise.  We expect this from them, but we also expect them to be hypocrites and liars.  I doubt that any of us take their protestations of love for America very seriously.  They are transparently on the make.  Nobody votes for a politician because they sincerely believe he or she really loves America.  We assume, rightly I'm sure, that they don't hate America, that they like America, that they would preserve, protect and defend it and its Constitution.  And there is no reason we should not believe the same of the President.  But love?  They can't reasonably as politicians be expected to love anyone or anything but themselves and perhaps those who bankroll them.

I suspect this is what Mencken meant.  I also suspect Mr. Giuliani is well aware of this, and is simply making political points and calling attention to himself, by trumpeting that the President does not love America and Giuliani does as do all other right thinking Americans.

It's possible to think that a President who does not constantly praise America somehow weakens it in the eyes of the world, but it would not be intelligent to do so.  Why would anyone among our friends, allies or enemies be impressed by this adulation?  It's also possible to believe that it is part of the position of President to be unqualifiedly in support of the United States.  This makes a kind of sense, but such unqualified support need not be stupid.

But the fact is we do make mistakes and it would be absurd to pretend we don't; it would be impossible to respect a President or anyone else who believes the United States has never done and never will do wrong.  The fact is the United States is exceptional, even remarkable, and those we call the Founders created in the Constitution a thing of beauty.  Unfortunately, those who succeeded them have not shared their genius or have done so only sporadically. 

There really is no need to constantly tell ourselves or others that this is the case, however.  When we do so or revile others for not doing so, we seek to benefit ourselves; to get paid in some fashion.  Mencken was right.

Make the World Go Away

What a song Hank Cochran wrote.  It has been sung by many, perhaps too many, from stars to bands in bars.  Some of these bands no doubt had to put up with annoying listeners like me, who once began to sing "Make the Band go Away" after their version of this sad classic finally reached its conclusion.

But I have no wish to write more of the song, except to note its claim that it was the world which caused the heartache expressed in such a maudlin fashion.  The world did it, not the one with the broken heart.  He should not have....what, exactly?  Succumbed to the charms of the wicked world?

Regardless, I wish the world to go away for different reasons.  I find the world annoying, or rather the people of the world, or most of them.  Those we see and hear about in any case, and their number is growing. 

This makes me sad.  I should not be annoyed.  I strive to walk the Stoic path (has nobody yet written of the tao of Stoicism?), and so should be indifferent of that which is not within the control of my will.  But I find myself irritated by so much of what transpires in the world I see, and sometimes wish that the irritating components of it would kindly go away.  Or unkindly go away, it matters not to me.  At least I'm indifferent to the manner in which it would go away.

We see, and hear, too much of the world and those people who inhabit it these days, as I've noted before in this place.  I've maintained that the deluge of information and opinion we suffer encourages thoughtlessness and thoughtless response to thoughtlessness.  I suppose I'm indulging in that now, thereby proving my point, to me at least.  How does the world annoy me?  Let me count the ways.

The politics of our Glorious Union irritates me tremendously; all aspects of it.  Most recently, I scowl helplessly at the (most recent) calls for impeachment of the President for taking executive action on immigration.  I can't help but wonder at this, given the long history of such action taken by Presidents in the past and given the enormous discretion it seems has been given to the President and the agency by the law and regulations.  There is also, of course, the consideration that the House has refused to legislate, out of what I assume is what it seems primarily motivates our politicians--the desire to be elected and fear of not being reelected.  The seemingly deranged reaction of those opposing the action leads me to wonder, once again, why it is this President provokes such rancor.  More and more it seems to me to be fundamentally irrational, and contemptible.

But unreason is present everywhere, not merely in politics.  It seems we flaunt our unreasonableness around the globe.  Surprisingly, there seems to be a kind of reaction against reason.  We see it and have seen it for some time in the guise of postmodernism, perhaps the most futile of intellectual pretensions.  Futility indeed seems to be what it seeks, everywhere.  At least, it revels in what it conceives to be the futility of everything but postmodernism.  Unfortunately, it provides no hope of anything but futility; it simply claims to provide us with a means to establish that all is futile.

I pause to wonder, though.  Is this my age talking?  Am I becoming, or have I become, an old fogey, like Alan Bloom?  Perhaps.  But what might distinguish me from other old fogies is that I think of reason as a method; I don't think that what was then and is not now is necessarily better than the present.  I don't long for good old days or good old ways.  I don't think the use of reason will result in a return to things as they were.  For the most part I think, and hope, it will not do so. 

But it seems that thinking is something we're not interesting in doing.  Perhaps we never have been.  Perhaps we've always acted on impulse and irrationally, and simply have more opportunity to do so now, in new and different ways, and this is broadcast instantly to the world at large.  It may be that technology has merely enhanced our irrationality, provided a means by which circumstances which previously served to blunt our impulses and stupidity (provided time to think or at least to be less excited).

Certainly, we've found ways to make ourselves appear ridiculous to more and more people.  Also, our sins may be forgiven but if we're not careful they'll live on forever, somewhere on the Internet or some smart phone. 

The likelihood is we're no more stupid (and no smarter) than we have ever been, but our stupidity is less private than it has been in the past.  One would think that would make us long to be less stupid, or at least more careful.  Perhaps it will, in time. 

We can hope that our technology may save us.  Because it emphasizes our faults and failings, it's possible that we'll eventually feel so shamed or disgusted with ourselves that we'll learn to exercise restraint.  Perhaps it will make this world go away by forcing us to think about what we do.

Well, it's good to dream.  But I see another future, one born of our tendency to assign blame to anyone, or anything, but ourselves.  The fear of technology has been with us since at least the last century, what with Heidegger and others whining about what it does to the world and to us.  If we find ourselves so disgusted with what we see and hear, the inclination may be to prevent ourselves from being able to see and hear what disgusts us.  It would be so much easier to regulate media and the Internet than correcting or regulating ourselves  As we have so many times in the past, we may seek to prohibit people from using technology in certain ways, regulating the content of what can be seen or heard or sent or broadcast. 

That would not work of course, but would result in a different world, which we then would wish to go away.

The Great Shutdown

Although frequently asked--if not commanded--to bless America, our Great Republic, God doesn't seem inclined to do so in many cases.  Those of us who think as I do that God is unlikely to esteem any country on a planet representing such a tiny part of the universe more than any other tiny part of the universe will not find this surprising, of course.  Others might, however, and those so inclined may wonder just why he, or we, allow our elected representatives to disport themselves in so contemptible a fashion as they have regarding the shutdown which has taken place in the last few weeks.

Fox News insists on calling it a "slimdown" it seems.  Slimming down is good, you know; healthy.  It's all for our benefit in the end, no matter how painful it may be.  Thus its dismisses the fact thousands suffer as a result of the posturing of our politicians.  I suppose it's admirable in a way that this organization expresses its bias in such a cavalier manner.  I'd say such an honest revelation is refreshing even if unintended, but then there's that annoying slogan, "Fair and Balanced."  So we can't absolve Fox News of hypocrisy in this case, at least.  Why not just refer to a "partial shutdown" if "shutdown" is deemed inaccurate?  Then again--why be accurate in today's world?

For me the most disturbing aspect of this melodrama is the fact it seems directed to derailing Obamacare, which may not be good law but is the law nonetheless.  Republicans are pleased to denounce judicial interference with duly adopted legislation (sometimes, at least) but they apparently have no qualms about doing it themselves when they are unable to arrange for its repeal.  This is at best mere petulance, which is worthy of disgust, but I think something more is involved.  I don't mean money, as its overwhelming importance in our political system must be taken for granted.  I refer to the kind of insane fit or seizure which takes hold of certain of us when anything related to our President is encountered or mentioned.  One must wonder what the cause is of such remarkable symptoms, but it is clear that the President sends certain of us into a frenzy.

How else explain the self-destructive conduct of those leading the charge against Obamacare, or perhaps a better analogy would be the defense of an outpost, say by the French Foreign Legion, or of Rorke's Drift (which might better suit those who find the President's mixed genetic heritage offensive, and it is possible that heritage is at the heart of this lunacy).  Something romantic and inspiring is called for--the Alamo?  But in the end the motivation is that some politicians disagree with adopted legislation which is the law, and while such disagreement is of course not in itself bad or despicable and can even be merited, the use of power to injure people because of dissatisfaction with the law of the land is ignoble, especially when those wielding power for such purposes are charged with adopting legislation.

It seems that wiser heads may prevail as far as the debt ceiling is concerned, but what are "wiser heads" where our government is concerned?  Those who can manage to be reasonable in certain limited cases?  Are the best of those who represent us those who are not clearly idiots or unthinking zealots?

Well, it can be said we get the government we deserve, and perhaps this is God's way of telling us he will not bless us with good government because we don't deserve it.  Those who think that divine grace is accorded without regard to conduct won't find this conclusion satisfying, but perhaps they will at least acknowledge that the elected are not necessarily the Elect.  The Chosen People need not be those we chose to do these things.

More Regarding Trials in which "Failure is not an Option"

Now, it seems, our poor President is being advised by his handlers to abandon the idea of trying the 9/11 defendants in District Court in New York, and instead to do so before a military tribunal.   This may mean we will be deprived of the opportunity to demonstrate to the world our respect for the rule of law by holding the trial his confused Attorney General proposed would be one in which "failure is not an option."

One may expect Mr. Obama will be chastized by those on the left if he succumbs to this latest advice, but it will be difficult to condemn him for not holding what could only have been a show trial if Mr. Holder's characterization of the planned proceedings was accurate.  If the result of such a trial is in any case preordained, why not dispense with what could only have been a very expensive display of hypocrisy?  But, perhaps the administration was not aware of the expense which would be involved in holding such a trial in Federal Court--how else account for the fact it was stunned to learn that the locals were not looking forward to footing the enormous bill?  Perhaps it was even unaware that it would appear hypocritical in insisting on a trial which could have only one outcome.

The simple fact is that there is no reasonable basis on which to assume there is even the slightest chance these defendants will be found not guilty.  And therein lies the problem; a very serious problem, I think.

I consider myself a ciceronian, but am not unaccepting of the fact he had many faults.  Anyone familiar with the career of Marcus Tullius Cicero knows that he faced condemnation (primarily after the fact, of course) for putting Roman citizens to death without trial in the case of the famous conspiracy of Catalina.  And there is reason to believe he felt remorse for doing so to the end of his life.

Of course, he did not do so by his own unilateral order.  He was careful to seek and obtain approval of the Senate, and that approval was nearly unanimous.  He was not a Sulla, nor for that matter was he one of the ruthless triumvirs who condemned him to death.  The guilt of those conspirators detained was unquestioned, even admitted.  There was a fear that an army of rebels would descend on Rome if trials were held--there was no time, it was felt, for trial, as there was an immediate danger.

Yet, there was something awful about executing or otherwise punishing the conspirators without trial, which, granted, would have been a very different proceeding then.  And there still is, I believe. 

We are not even considering the possibility of dispensing with a trial, however.  A military tribunal may not provide a trial of the kind available in Federal District Court, but it can provide certain due process protections, and an opportunity to respond to the charges.  Neither the President nor the nation must accept Cicero's burden in this case.  But we are foolish if we feel that the kind of proceeding to be held will make any difference where the result is concerned.  That is something we simply must accept.

Some Thoughts on Civility

President Obama noted there is an absence of civility in our politics at the meeting of influential figures oddly named the National Prayer Breakfast recently (do they pray while eating breakfast--do they contemplate prayer while doing so--do they pray specifically for the nation prior to, during, or after breakfast?).  It happens I'm reading a book by the English diplomat Sir Harold Nicolson called Good Behaviour, which is a kind of study of ideals of civility in history, and so was particularly interested in his comments which, alas, seem fairly uninspired, and even routine.

That there is such an absence certainly can't be doubted, of course, and it seems quite appropriate that the President and others point this out.  Indeed, the character of politics has become so rancorous that it it even seems appropriate to question his motives in commenting on the need for civility--what advantage does he seek to gain by doing so?  Is he trying to paint his opponents as rabid as well as misguided?  Does he seek to deflect criticism that he is detached and unconcerned by painting himself as a gentleman?

Thus far in my reading Nicolson has given his thoughts regarding ancient Greek and Roman concepts of civility, that of Confucian China, that of chivalry, that of the court of Louis XIV, that (it seems) of 19th century Germany, and that of the English.  I haven't finished his book but, being cynical as well as stoic, my guess is that he will conclude that true civility is personified by the English gentleman, who will very much resemble Nicolson himself.  As he was a successful and accomplished diplomat, I suspect he was quite civil, and I tend to agree with him that civility when it degenerates into mere affectation and manners is not admirable, and doesn't necessarily insure behavior most would consider appropriate.  Louis' courtiers had fine manners, but also apparently relieved themselves throughout the halls and under the stairways while at court.

Civility, I think, follows naturally when one tries to intelligently and reasonably resolve problems in combination with others.  Intelligence and reason should tell us that vituperation and caustic criticism, hysteria, inflammatory speech, etc. will not be conducive to arranging a resolution.  We don't thereby work well and play well with others (there was something about this trait in old school report cards, I think). 

But I can't help but wonder whether civility is possible in politics, or in any kind of dispute, today.  This isn't a thoughtful age, and perhaps it cannot be, where communication of most every thought is made immediately.  The technology seems to encourage us to say what we think and feel at every moment in the shortest and least considered manner possible.  Twitter, email, facebook, etc. are not conducive to communication of any length; so, what is communicated are only those thoughts, desires and opinions that can be communicated in a sentence or two, or even in a phrase.  Our language, they say, is an essential part of our civilization, even of our being capable of civilization, i.e. being civilized.  When it has become important simply to say something, or react, as quickly as possible, language as a way of expressing ourselves, and thinking, becomes debased, as do we.