If Media Makes You Mad...Don't Blame Mrs.Smith

Today's commentary is brought to you by the letter R.

In particular, the letter R as in "rhetorical".

When used in association with the word "question", rhetorical meaning "asked in order to produce an effect or to make a statement rather than elicit information".

In other words, the "rhetorical question" is on a mission to inspire cogent conversation, motivate erudite exchanges, generate dynamic debate....

...and/or just stir shit up.

The "rhetorical question" is, as a rule, not, meanwhile, looking for a particular answer.

Particularly.    

Which isn't to say that there aren't a lot of people out there in TV/radio/social media land ready, willing and inevitably destined to provide a specific answer.

As for myself, I think we all know where this is headed.

And it would be a surprise to many , if not most, if not all, if I were not expected to plop a big ol' dollop of specific answer right there in the soup bowl of back and forth.

Yeah. About that. Anticipate a surprise.

Question found posted on Facebook a day or so ago.

"Mainstream media....what won't they do?"

Predictably, given the current snarling pack of Rhodes Scholars that Donald has unleashed into our national backyard,  the first few unasked for answers to the supposedly rhetorical question asked were, again, predictably, well...predictable.

"They won't be fair and moderate....is that the right answer?"

"Tell the truth". One assumes the writer, there, literally answered the question meaning, of course, that the mainstream media won't tell the truth because the question was phrased as a negative inquiry.

Here's a still hot and still trending go-to rambunctious retort, not able to knock "Lock Her Up" out of the top slot on our hit parade, but still common and catchy as all giddy up.

"Enemy of the people".

This one causes the beginnings of one of those brain freeze ice cream headaches because everybody from about the second grade on up knows exactly what this particular articulate weaver of words means. But since said commenter is answering a question, "what won't they do?", one could make the case that said commenter is actually defending the mainstream media.

"Enemy of the people" is what mainstream media "won't do".

See?  It's all so confusing.

And not just a little of one of my personal favorite common visitors to the day in, day out...irony.

Seventy kabillion different ways to communicate with each other at this time in the history of mankind and we comprehend less, understand less, even know less than we ever have in the history of mankind.

But back to business. Or let us return to rhetorical, as the case may be.

The clog in the pipe of comprehension isn't the question being asked.

It's the lack of comprehension that inspired the question in the first place.

And that lack of comprehension is entirely about a lack of understanding.

As in understanding just exactly what "mainstream media" is at this time in the history of mankind.

And, more critically to our point this time around, what mainstream media isn't.

And although it's a lot catchier, at this point, for me to offer up "what it is, is what it is" in a whimsical stoner voice, clarity is only to be found by easin' on down, easin' on down the road of what it isn't.

It isn't journalism.

And, only because my Spidey sense is pretty attuned to those moments when the already riled up crowd senses an opportunity to go all lynch mob and shit, let me tinkle on any attempt to light a fuse here.

I'm not trashing, denigrating or dissing mainstream media for not being journalism.

I'm just splainin' what all this is about, Alfie.

What it's all about is that it's no longer about what it used to be about.

Journalism--the activity of profession of writing for newspapers, magazines or news websites or preparing news to be broadcast.

Most of the feces flung in the direction of "media" in the year of our Lord, 2019, is frustratedly flung by people over the age of, say, 45.

Which isn't to say that those younger than mid-forties don't chime in with their own hip and groovy brand of "enemy of the people"-ing, but I'm gonna condescend a little here and offer that a lot of that feces flinging is more a matter of monkey see, monkey do than it is a show of any original thought.

Think of those folks as the ones yelling "yeah! YEAH!" in the mob as the guy with the rope in his hand does the preaching about stringing, and/or locking, her or him or them up.

Best performance by a lynch mob member in a supporting role, so to speak.

But older folks are more inclined to understand, even resent, the result of several decades of evolution in what is now referred to as media. Because when it comes to being dissatisfied with "what it is", they understandably compare and contrast with "what it was."

Journalism. The acquisition of factual information and reporting of said factual information in an unbiased, agenda-less format.

Put simply. Here's what happened today.

Not here's what happened and what we think it means and what you should think it means and what you should do about it based on what we think it means and, accordingly, what you should do about it.

Don't mistake any of this of having a "good old days" candy coating. Newspapers, and then radio, and eventually television all had their own little outlet for offering up opinion along with, or as opposed to, simple factual information. And they were free to express those opinions in the format known as "editorial".

That's where the term "op/ed" comes from. As in "op/ed" page. The page of the newspaper on which you would find the opinions of the editor. And/or other columnists or contributors who wanted to speak a piece.

But it was one page. And everyone reading the newspaper knew the page when they saw it and read it.

And they knew, or, at least, assumed that the rest of the newspaper, newscast, etc held true to the basic value system of journalism. Factual reporting. Period. End of sentence.

Or "-30-" as it was known in the olden days.

In print journalism, starting at a time when stories were written out in longhand, X marked the end of a sentence, XX marked the end of a paragraph and...the end of the story?

XXX or in Roman numerals....30.

Come for the uncommon commentary. Stay for the fun facts to know and tell.

Here's the quick, breaking news headline regarding the olden days.

They're over.

Done.

XXX.

And much, not all, lynch mobbers, calm down, much of what is defined and/or described as "mainstream media" bears little or no resemblance to journalism and has little or nothing to do, necessarily, with empirical reporting of factual information.

The bubble in the fuel line, though, isn't so much what media is.

It's what too many people believe media is supposed to be. Or, more to the point, what they somehow expect it to be.

If Charles Dickens were around today to write on the matter, he might whimsically title the work "Unreasonable Expectations".

None of this is by way of defending the offenders who fill our newspapers, TV programs, radio shows, news websites, social media pages, ad nauseum with anything and everything except empirical reporting of factual information.

But, and now it fits like an OJ glove, "it is what it is."

Criticize, even hate, the snake for biting you.

But don't bitch because you believed it to be a bunny.

If you're among those who are yelling "yeah! YEAH!" when questions like "mainstream media, what won't they do?" come along, here's some things that, by now, you should already know but, apparently do not.

Media is not in the business of providing factual information.

Media is in the business of selling product.

And by product, yes, I mean face creams, hand creams, ice cream, Cialis, Viagra and whatever they can get you to pay, supposedly, next to nothing for at Deal Dash.Com.

Not to mention the kind of true love that can only be found amidst the hay bales and cow pies.

That's right. You don't have to be lonely. At Farmers Only.com.

The three major network and one Public Broadcasting news paradigm in television, for example, is now fully qualified for display next to The Spirit of St. Louis and John Glenn's space capsule at the Smithsonian.

In their place, a whole lotta "news" outlets shoveling out a whole lotta whatever it is they're shoveling with pretty much one goal in mind.

To keep you turning on, tuning in and watching/listening/being pitched to as long as possible.

If they happen to stumble and actually provide you "news you can use", well, hell, even a broken clock, ya know?

Talk radio. Here's something to talk about.

Old saying in the music radio biz.

Radio stations don't play commercials between songs.

They play songs between commercials.

Talk radio is simply following the new schematic.

The longer some punk ass grandstanding Fox News wanna be can spew stupidity and keep you from touching that radio dial, the better the chances that you're going to hear about that great deal at Trailer City.

Free genuine, simulated chrome hitch with every purchase of a thousand dollars or more.

And that doesn't even begin to bring our impish Internet irritants into the mix.

They're not there to provide you, first and foremost, with factual information.

They're there to get you to click on whatever it is they want you to click on.

Nod's as good as a wink. Clicks as good as cash.

Again, none of this is meant to defend or endorse, per se. And neither is it intended to paint all journalists with the broad brush.

There are conscientious, dedicated, committed, educated, insightful and, yes, patriotic people working in the field of journalism who still hold true to that value system mentioned earlier. Who believe that the free press and the proper implementation of it, are not only beneficial to a democracy, they are, in fact, essential.

The Washington Post hits the target dead center with their masthead.

"Democracy Dies In Darkness".

 But along with everything else that "is what it is" and "ain't what it used to be", add this.

Picking up a newspaper or watching/listening to news television or talk radio, or clicking on or to and/or around any news outlet with the phrase "dot com" at the end of its title and letting that determine what you think you know about an incident or an issue is a luxury you simply can't afford anymore.

Once upon a time, in a republic for which it stands, you could, in fact, read the morning headlines, or get your daily dose of whazzup from Chet and David or Walter or, later, even Jane or Joan or Bryant and you were relatively, key word relatively, safe in letting the information they imparted to you give you the confidence one needs to feel well, and correctly, informed.

Again, put simply. You could let others do the work of finding factual information.

And trust me when I tell you that, at this age of my life, having grown up listening and watching and reading Chet and David and Walter and Woodward and Bernstein that I totally get that not being able to rely on, depend on, well, hell, let's just get to the XXX of this, want to?.....not being able to just trust what I'm being told is factual information as opposed to one agenda or another is very old and very hard habit to break.

But when it comes to news not so much necessarily being the news anymore?

It's not exactly new information that we're not necessarily getting the news.

Donald does enjoy his little bumper sticker catchphrase creations but "fake news" has been around longer than the sorry attempt to make America great again.

And, at the heart of it all, there's this.

When somebody tells you that what they're selling you is a blueberry pie but everything from it's appearance to its aroma tells you that it's a cow pie, it's understandable that you would not be happy about being hustled.

But to ask, even rhetorically, "blueberry pie makers.....what shit won't they put in those things?" makes you sound more than just a little out of touch. More than just a little gullible. And not just a little lazy.

Yeah, I'm right there with you. I miss the days when you could see the words Mrs. Smith's Blueberry Pie on the box and count on it.

But for some time now, I've been a lot more careful about taking Mrs. Smith's word for it.

And whenever necessary, I do the due diligence of seeking another pie supplier. Until I find what I'm looking for.

And something I can actually swallow.

Earlier, I said that hearing what today's topic was would have many naturally assuming.

The question was rhetorical. But, you know me, I've always got an answer.

Not today.

Today, I'm answering the rhetorical question. With a question.

His question.....

Mainstream media...what won't they do?

My question...

When are you going to realize it's not Mrs. Smith's job to make sure you get blueberries?

Because Mrs. Smith doesn't give a damn if you get blueberries or not.

As long as you buy what she's selling.

Give Me Liberty....That's It....Right Now...Hand It Over...

Stop me if you've heard this one before.

The first step to solving a problem is admitting that there is one.

Okay, obviously, I wasn't serious about you stopping me.

As if, right?

But there's no getting around old Mr. Common Sense when it comes to the shop worn stock phrase that reinforces the irrefutable. You can't fix a hole in a tire until you find the hole. You can't roller skate in a buffalo herd. And you can't find the solution to a problem until you recognize and acknowledge that a problem exists in the first place.

Easy, and obvious, as that might sound, though, turns out too often to be much easier said than done.

Just ask Sarah Huckabee Sanders. Or Kellyanne Conway.  

But today's sardonic soliloquy isn't directed at Harcourt Fenton Trump's women or the denial voodoo that they do so well.

It's about recognizing and acknowledging a much less recognized, yet much more symbolically important problem that diminishes us these days.

Diminishment discussed directly.

Something is wrong in America.

Well, now, there's a tagline for what could fill a couple of years worth of newscasts, talk shows and/or podcasts.

And that's not even exactly the same as those things that are wrong with America.

Although, that's an unnecessary splitting of hairs. Potato, patahto. Problem, problemo.

This particular wrong what is wrong in America came across my radar again the other day as I scrolled through the vast library of enlightenment, erudition, scholarly wisdom and savvy known as Facebook.

Yet another meme bob-bob-bobbing along on the sea of memes that share online space with pictures of people's lunch, videos of guys getting hit in the balls from one "hold my beer" activity or another and, of course, the "I know you are/but what am I?" tsunami that passes for political and/or philosophical discourse in the age of Donald John.

This particular meme bade one harken back to those thrilling days of yesteryear, assuming one considers 2005 a banner year for thrilling days. The meme was a picture of Barack Obama, complete with a quote most assuredly subliminally posted with a sense of "ah-ha!" about it.

"We simply cannot", Obama commented, "allow people to pour into the United States undetected, undocumented, unchecked and circumventing the line of people who are waiting patiently, diligently, and lawfully to become immigrants in this country."

Again. Ah-ha!

You don't have to be a star,baby, to be in my show. You don't have to say you love me, just be close at hand. And you don't have to be a Doctoral candidate with a 4.0 GPA to make a winning guess that whoever posted the meme was proudly endorsing concrete on the border which, by the way, is the much less known follow up to Connie Francis' big 1959 hit, Lipstick on Your Collar.

And, by the way, for those in the grandstands today who haven't evolved much past the LOL, IKR, SMH, LMFAO stages of development, GPA stands for Grade Point Average. Which is a classic term used in the process of an old ritual in society that was known as education. One of what we now refer to as the "lost arts", again, in this age of Donald John.

With a dollop of Betsy DeVos sprinkled conservatively on top. And you thought I was gonna say liberally. You silly.

So the Obama meme was obviously a shot taken at wall opponents  by one of the very clever many who find some sense of inner satisfaction these days regularly exercising that unique, always entertaining, lobe of their brain that fires off the "but, what about" response.

"Well, today, Trump 'fill in the blank with whatever the transgression is at any given moment'.

"But...what about when Hillary 'fill in the blank with whatever Hillary quote or accusation from the golden oldies folder you got that you can make work'.

In place of Hillary, of course, you can substitute Bill, Biden, Bernie, Pelosi, Schumer, any of the remaining Democrats on the Supreme, Ocasio-Cortez (cue Ed Sullivan: 'for you young people out there tonight'), anyone remotely connected to show biz any time, some time ago or yet to come, that they drop their two cents in the pile, hell, you can even get ambitious and throw in a "but, what about when Millard Fillmore...?" if you can actually find something Fillmore did or said that makes it seem like he got away with shit that we libtard snowflakes just won't cut Donald any slack on.

The "but, what about", though, isn't the problem in America I've teased impishly, bordering on annoyingly, so far.

Hang in there. Getting closer.

While there was nothing particularly new or unique about the Obama immigration quote meme, it triggered a  reminder for me of a conversation I had a couple of years ago during the Sunday talk radio show I was doing at the time.

Obama was still in office, Hillary was the presumptive Democratic nominee. And Donald was being written off as a political joke du jour whose days as a candidate, like the current list of indictments, were numbered.

Again. Ah-ha!

The topic on talk was guns. And one regular caller/listener who was convinced, beyond no only any reasonable doubt, but, to a moral certainty that it was only a matter of days, even minutes before Barack Obama was going to pull the start rope on a nationwide confiscation of guns.

I was momentarily inclined to say Obama was going to fire the starting pistol, but, I like to sprinkle the wit, not over-season the soup.

The assertion, actually more a suspicion, actually, more than that, a paranoia was, of course, nonsense. Was then. Is now.

If for no other reason, as I pointed out at the time in hopes of injecting both a little comfort and humor simultaneously, even if it was true and Obama launched a Federal Government Plan to confiscate weapons nationwide there were three words there that guaranteed that the attempt to do so would be an utter, undeniably fubar-ed failure.

Federal. Government. Plan.

But, at the time, as now, what occurred to me wasn't about the possibility or impossibility of a nationwide weapons confiscation.

Any more than seeing a fifteen year old Obama quote plastered on a 2019 Facebook page had me thinking that Obama was a hypocrite, or not, there would be a wall, or there wouldn't or Hillary should be locked up.

That last one had nothing to do with the train of thought we were riding there, but, I like to throw the MAGA's a bone every now and then and that one always gets their hearts racing and their red caps tossed in the air in jubilant anticipation.

Yee. Haw. Make America Great Again.

Here's the thing.

And the thing is about extremes.

We, the people, for the most part, allowing for the wack job, dimwit, half wit, half-assed segment of any population populated with human beings, profess to be turned off by the idea of extremism.

I've never had a conversation with anyone who firmly voices their support of anyone who can be correctly described as an extremist. "Anyone", there, of course, excludes the wack job, dimwit, half wit, half-assed segment of any population populated with human beings.

And 'bout 70% of the talk radio audience these days, give or take.

Whether the word extreme is followed by the word conservative or liberal, left or right, we hem and haw and churn and chatter and piss and moan about the "right wing" this and the "left wing" that, but we all, like it or not, admit it or not, live most of the moments of the day of our lives in the middle.

Sure, okay, be a hard ass stickler already. A little right of middle or a little left of middle.

But middle.

Here's a fun random thought. Walking along a busy highway, the safest place to be is way to the left or way to the right.

And the middle, of course, is where you're most likely to get dead.

Don't know why that crossed my mind just now. My irony switch is probably just stuck in the on position again.

So, sorry, Barry Goldwater, you once upon a time paragon of conservative values, "extremism...." in any usage is, in fact, a vice. Google it. It's inspirational oratory from a politician at a time in history when you could say inspirational and politician in the same sentence and not feel like you were hacking up a hairball.

So, let's agree for the moment that we meet in the middle.

But we don't think in the middle.

We think in extremes.

It doesn't occur to those in fear that all their guns will be pried from their fingers long before those fingers are cold and/or dead that there's something very useful and beneficial to be found in the middle between taking all the guns away from everybody and letting everyone have any damn number of any damn gun any damn time they want them for whatever damn reason which, by the way, just happens to be nobody's damn business.

Well, damn.

And it never occurs to those who have bought the snake oil mixed with cement sales pitch that a wall is the be all/end all solution to the immigration issue that there are a dozen, a hundred, a thousand, keep on extrapolatin' there, kids, alternatives that could more effectively and more efficiently deal with that very real issue.

Not to mention more economically, by the way.

Again. Ah-ha!

Nope. It's gotta be a wall. Or it will be an invasion of pillagers, plunderers and rapists.

It's gotta be all guns, all the time. Or it will end up no guns, no how, no way, Jose.'

That Jose' thing would have been a lot more clever if it had been in the wall thing, but, these things don't always just fall into place. Those of you who think this commentary business is a cake walk need to step off and do some homework.

Common sense, common cause, even common decency all lie and live in or around the middle of this life we share.

But we think in extremes.

Left. Or right. Conservative. Or Liberal.

Everything. Or nothing.

My way. Or the highway.

Fer us. Or agin' us.

And that brings us to the originally mentioned "something wrong" in America.

Wrong song.

Star Spangled Banner? Land of the free and home of the brave? Here and there, maybe, from time to time, these days, but overall, currently anyway, not so much, no.

America The Beautiful? And crown thy good with...brotherhood? Really? That's what you're gonna come at me with? That's a negatory, good buddy. I would refer you to the current high level acceptance of our more Neo-Nazi participants.

Very fine people.

Even "This Is My Country" comes up a skosh short on the patriotic hit parade.

"...this is my country / grandest on Earth..."

Ask the 100 million Americans who voted the other way two years ago. Ask the 74% of the population that, up until a few months ago, wasn't rock solid sure just exactly what impeach really involved, but are now practically qualified to teach a course on it...not to mention ready to see it happen.

Ask any of the non-adversary nations in the rest of the world how grand they see America to be at the moment.

Yeah. That song is recycle bin bound, too.

The current politics of pain, like kidney stones, will pass. Or kill us. Either way, check that off the list.

What remains, though, is what's wrong with America.

So much, too much, of its population isn't interested in discussing, debating, implementing or even acknowledging the existence of moderation, co-operation, compromise.

Left. Or right. Conservative. Or Liberal.

Everything. Or nothing.

My way. Or the highway.

Fer us. Or agin' us.

It's what's wrong with America.

And what's wrong in America?

Like I said...wrong song.

Turns out there's one that fits to a T.

"All...Or Nothing At All"

There you go.

It's Like Battling Over Using A Crescent or Socket Wrench...To Do Bypass Surgery...

We, the people have spent a lot of time arguing this past two years .

Given that the subject of the majority of that arguing is someone who set out from the git-go to set us off against each other and who finds the need for the distraction of keeping us going off against each other critical to his political survival, let alone his avoiding possible incarceration down the road a stretch, it should come as no surprise to anyone that we find ourselves frequently going on about the business of that which we were set up to go about in the first place.

Arguing.

At this point in the plot, though, two years and a day or two since the "I do solemnly swear to faithfully execute" was verbalized if not committed to particularly, it occurs to me that when it comes to arguing, we're doing it, we're doing it often, we're doing it loudly and we're doing it either proudly or pinheadedly, depending on our level of education, baseline intelligence quotient and/or cap color.

But we're doing it wrong.

More to the point, both sides are drawing conclusions, illustrating indignation, outlining outrage, even crayoning contempt, but totally missing....the big picture.

Stand by for the big picture.

Old saying.

Everything happens for a reason.

Contemporary tweak on old saying.    

Everything happens for a reason. Nobody says it has to be a good reason.

Same thing holds true for every thing.

Every thing has a purpose or, at the very least, a use.

Nobody says it has to be a good purpose or a productive use.

Let's take a look at a couple of things from the list of these every things that have a purpose or use.

Take bullying, for example.

If you're the kind of person who, deep down inside, has a huge, echoing space where confident self esteem is usually found, belittling and intimidating people can cause endorphins and adrenaline to surge through your system, giving you a rush that puts sugar to shame, making you forget, if only for a few fleeting seconds at a time, that you're really just a sad and lonely soul, trying to hurt less by hurting others, trying to feel something, anything, by inflicting feelings on others, even if those feelings are caustic and cruel.

If, on the other hand, you really want to contribute something to your circle of acquaintances, your neighborhood, your community, be a productive force, be, cliche' notwithstanding, part of the solutions and not part of the problems, then, the unavoidable fact is...bullying just doesn't work.

Racism.

If your goal is to make it clear that you believe that only Caucasians are deserving of respect, courtesy, kindness, hell, even existence, then spewing vile epithets, wearing robes and/or hoods and/or swastikas, even the occasional aforementioned crimson cap can go a long way toward letting inferiors know exactly where you stand. Throw in a burning cross or, with an impressive wink to the newer technologies, make sure somebody cell phone videos you the next time you tell those black motherfuckers they need to go back to Africa where they belong....and you will have irrefutably gotten your money's worth and then some of all that racism has to offer.

Sexism, misogyny, gender bias and a half dozen other assorted and sundry things kinda fall into that same category. Give em a little thought and you'll make the connection. I trust you.

Here's a little trickier one.

Populism.

For those not jiggy with the jargon, the dictionary def is "a political approach that strives to appeal to ordinary people who feel their concerns are disregarded by established elite groups".

Put in a  more appealing to ordinary people way..."I hear ya...I feel your pain....I'm one of you..."

If the populist's purpose is to convince people that he or she, and he or she alone, know their problems, sympathize with their problems, empathize with their problems and are the only hope they have in this lifetime of seeing their problems solved, then populism is custom made for the purpose.

Thing about populism, though, is while it sounds appealing, it very easily, much too easily, and usually fairly quickly, much too quickly, mutates into something equally appealing...but ultimately much more poisonous.

Demagoguery.

"seeking support by appealing to the desires and prejudices of ordinary people rather than by using rational argument....exploiting issues for political purposes in a way calculated to appeal to the prejudices of ordinary people."

Fake news may or may not be fake news, but history is what it is. And history has shown us time and time and time again that any time you find "prejudices" and "ordinary people" being rolled into the same big glob of dough, what comes out of the oven is very little treat....and a whole lot of trouble.

Because "appealing to prejudices" is a five dollar way of saying "stir up hatred of minorities"...."find the biggest barrels of anger available and light the fuses"...."incite 'ordinary people' to lash out, strike back,burn em out and hang em high."

The results of those kinds of detonations are always ugly, destructive and devastating, not only to individuals, but groups, even crowds of people. Even the ordinary people that believed the answer to their problems and their prayers had arrived. In the form of someone who told them "I hear ya...I feel your pain...I'm one of you..."

The thing is...those things simply don't work in any society that sincerely wants to be civilized. They are repugnant and repellent to any culture that aspires to make life better and safer and happier for themselves and their loved ones and their friends and even those folks a few blocks over that they don't personally know, but who are just as deserving of a better, safer and happier life for themselves and their loved ones and.....


We, the people have spent a lot of time arguing this past two years.

We've been arguing because we were set up to argue. It served, and serves, his purpose.

And we've been arguing over whether he is doing the right thing or the wrong thing for this country, whether he does or does not have the best interests of this country at heart, whether he is or is not a patriot or a traitor or a genius or a buffoon.

And the time, energy, nerve tissue and stomach lining required to stay in full argue mode so much for so long has, either inadvertently, or intentionally, prevented us,all of us.... from seeing the big picture.

Bullying.
Racism.
Populism.
Demagoguery.

All present and accounted for.

At the highest level achievable in this nation.

There really is no argument against that that can be won.

Because there they are. Every day.

Every hour. Every minute.

Big picture:

It's not that these things exist.

It's not even that they are his standard operating procedures.

It's that they don't work.

In America.

At least, according to everything I've ever known and/or been taught in the past 58 years...

...the America we are supposed to be.

If argue we must.....

...let's argue that.

When It Comes To Donald, Elsa's Had The Right Idea All Along

Old Will Rogers punchline.

"I am not a member of an organized political party. I am a Democrat."

I hear ya, buddy. And respectfully offer the following addendum.

I know absolutely nothing about professional politics. I'm an American.

That said, I've obviously shown no hesitation in offering up a couple thousand bucks worth of two cents, most especially in the last three years or so, on the subject of American politics and those either knee, or neck, deep in it. And I've made no secret about who I like, respect and admire in American politics, a considerable list, many names that would take up far too much time to rattle off one by one.      

Then, of course, there's the list of those who I think need to be voted off the island as fast as humanly possible.

Donald.

As I write this piece, California Democratic Senator Kamala Harris has just this morning announced that she is running for President in 2020.

Harris joins an already "the truth is out there somewhere" bunch that includes former San Antonio Mayor and former HUD Secretary Julian Castro, as well as NY Senator Kirsten Gillibrand. Both of whom have also officially announced their intention to try and send Donald back to planning the grand opening of Trump Tower Moscow where he belongs.

By my count, meanwhile, that's two pot shots at Donald and we're only ten paragraphs or so in, here.

And that's the core of the point this entire piece is about.

Years ago, Mick Jagger took some interview shots at The Beatles and their, then, current state of breaking up is hard to do. John Lennon, asked about it, took Mick to major task. When it was pointed out to Lennon that he, himself, had been doing a pretty good job blistering his band mates, he responded "it's my band, I can say what I want about them...Mick needs to STFU.."

That's what's happening here right now, too.

And the rock center core of the unsolicited advice I'm about to offer Secretary Castro, Senators Gillibrand and Harris and any, and every one, we have yet to see throw their hats into the Make America Trumpless Again ring. (Potshot three, I know, I'm keeping track....hasn't changed a thing about the advice I'm about to give).

I'm not running for anything. So I can say what I want about Donald.

But you folks ARE running for President. So, when it comes to taking potshots at Donald, when it comes to talking about Donald, in fact, wherever and whenever practical and possible, when it comes to even mentioning Donald's name, you all need to listen to me very carefully right this very second.

STFU.

There are any number of reasons why that's the best advice you're going to get when it comes to the campaign of 2020. Not the least of which is the fun we'll all have watching Donald doing Twitter cartwheels because he cannot function without spotlight perpetually bathing him.

And while that might be a mildly amusing pot shot, it is a flawed and very likely fatal campaign strategy.

Here's why.

People are tired of Donald Trump.

People are tired of hearing about Donald Trump.

People are especially tired of hearing what a complete failure Donald Trump is, as a president, as a deal maker, as a human being.

And any, and every, candidate that runs as the "I'm Not Donald Trump" candidate is going to be back in the locker room and out of contention faster than you can say "..who dat....wait....what? no pass interference call? what the fuck???"

And it's not because the vast majority of people aren't in unhesitating agreement that Donald is a complete failure as a president, as a deal maker, as a human being.....

It's because they're tired of hearing about it.

I'm tired of hearing about it. I'm tired of writing about it.

And I freely admit that I'm guilty of not having taken my foot off that gas pedal months ago.

In fact, that admission is the preamble to an announcement I will be making at the end of this piece.

Don't touch that dial.

Speaking of people are tired, earlier this week, I was catching up on my DVR'd programming... I watched Kirsten Gillibrand announce on Colbert that she's running. She seems sincere and committed. But, to these ears,  she answered his questions in platitudes.

If the last three years, and the election of Trump, have taught us anything, it's that:

People are tired of platitudes

People don't like platitudes
 
People don't trust platitudes.

The candidate who will end Donald Trump will be the candidate who answers the question "how are you going to build a better America?" by whipping out a blueprint and explaining it brick by brick.

Not... by answering "I'm going to bring people together"

2016 proved that too many people shopping for leadership... given only the choice between a vision and a plan... will always buy the plan.. no matter how outrageous, ridiculous or even dangerous it is.

People like catchy slogans. People like simple answers. People don't have time, patience or even brain matter, much, anymore for long winded or abstract insights into the American experience, it's hopes, it's dreams, the John Williams scored, one more same old yammering about bringing us all together.

People like to chant.

And "Increased Border Security" just doesn't get the veins a poppin' and the joint a rockin' like "Build That Wall".

You know. "Determine Any Wrongdoing And Prosecute Any Transgressions To The Fullest Extent of the Law!"

Uh, no. Not so much.

"Lock Her Up!" There you go.

Even though increased border security is the most efficient, intelligent and practical solution to the issue of immigration....and a wall is just a big speed bump that the always resourceful, resilient human being will find a way through, over, under or around.

I know. BORED.

But my caution flag waving at candidates in the next go round isn't about attention spans as much as it is practicality and efficiency....and a couple of words that have been in dry dock since the day Donald showed America that it damn sure is time to get serious about turning the Electoral College into a Starbucks.

Inspiration. And excitement.

And, what the hell, let's throw in optimism, as a little sprinkle on the latte', wanna?

But, hold on there little buckaroos and buckareenies, I'm not talking about your Hallmark Card variety inspiration and optimism and excitement.

Because history and experience have taught us all what that leads to.

Platitudes.

And how do we feel about platitudes?

Right.

I'm talking about not only "can do" but, here's what we're going to do.

Almost sixty years ago, JFK committed America to being first in space. And there was a platitude, here and there, in the oratory. Of course, that was a long time ago, when vision and imagination and inspiration were still in the lineup and not on the injured reserve list.

But along with the vision, there was a plan.

"....I believe that this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the Earth...."

Mic drop.

How's that for a plan, baby?

In my experience as a broadcaster, I've said, on many occasions, that I've learned there are two things that listeners cannot resist.

Puzzles. And free stuff.

Recent years of experience being immersed in the world of observing and analyzing American politics have taught me that there's two, for sure, things that voters can't resist.

A plan of action. And action.

Trump won in 2016 because he convinced enough people that he was the man with the plan and the only man with the plan who would take action on the plan.

And it didn't matter that the plan was bluster, blowing hard and bullshit.

It was a plan, man.

Not another libtard, snoflake pile of platitudes.

Two years and two months later, he's STILL got, literally, millions of people enthralled and enraptured by the plan to put that wall into place, come hell, high water or Nancy Pelosi.

And there are two kinds of people in this nation these days.

Those who chant "Build That Wall!" and believe it's going to happen.

Those who know that the wall is just a pathetically stupid campaign promise that Donald Trump never dreamed for a micro-second he would ever have to make good.

But both kinds of people, in their own ways, have something in common.

They're tired of hearing about it.

And those who want that wall want to know "what's the plan" to put that plan into action, man?

And those who know Trump's whole saga is a scam want to know what's the plan to actually make America a better and safer place to raise a family and live out a better, safer life.

Neither of those questions can be answered by continuing to sing the one note of the one note song entitled  "Donald is a complete failure as a president, as a deal maker, as a human being".

And no candidate asking to be given the chance to lead this nation to that better, safer place is going to get an inch of traction out of basing their campaign on the pillar labeled "Donald Trump is a complete failure as a president, as a deal maker, as a human being".

I come before you a convert. Or, at least, attudinally adjusted.

And I'm officially announcing, today, that from here on out, what will be offered on these pages will be alternatives, ideas, suggestions, recommendations...yes, say it with me, brothers and sisters across these great United States of America....a plan.


Because I'm very confident that many of us have one thing in clear cut common.

We are tired of hearing about Donald Trump.

And we want to raise our families in a better, safer nation and live out a better, safer life.

At the end of the day, Donald Trump doesn't really even factor in to that kind of America.

The candidate who gets that will go all the way in 652 days.

In the meantime, let's talk blueprints.

And let's talk about them brick...by brick.

Sound like a plan?

Luck Be A Lady...Or Pretty Much Anyone, At This Point

It's always prudent and politic to seek unconventional sources for insight and perspective, especially when it comes to the politics of our time.

Fresh eyes, fresh ears, you know, the whole fresh look/listen thing.

This time around, I'm availing myself of the wit, wisdom and wherewithal of an uncommon combination of  consultants.

Conservative columnist George Will. Iconic author and playwright George Bernard Shaw. And 70's pop legend Meat Loaf.

One can only imagine what these three cultural contributors have in common.

One need not imagine for long.

The common thread weaves its way into our conversation shortly. 

802 days ago, at this writing, America ran out of luck.

In fairness, it might be more appropriate to put it this way. America's winning streak was over.

And the irony of that observation isn't lost on anyone paying attention, given that two years ago an election turned out to be heavily influenced by the whole idea of winning.

One of the few influences on that election, by the way, that we can actually be assured were homegrown, as opposed to imported from any one of a number of nations, but, well, okay...Russia.

But as all winning streaks must, the particular winning streak I'm talking about came to a screaming, screeching, sorry excuse of an end the moment the Electoral votes in Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin went that-a-way and not the this-a-way that every poll, pundit and prognosticator from Pasadena to Pittsburgh had been projecting repeatedly.

107,000 votes in those three states. That's all it took to tip the Electoral College outcome in favor of the candidate from the Republican Party.

The Republican Party. Whom I'm sure you'll all remember from your history books, the party of Lincoln and Eisenhower, Reagan and assorted and sundry Bushes. Due respect to Margaret Mitchell, a political party....gone with the wind.

In a nation of 327.16 million people and 156 million eligible voters, 107,000 people sealed the deal.

Yeah. Those who want to board up the windows and doors of the Electoral College are just sore loser, rabble rousers, you know.

But the whole Electoral College bicker and bitchfest is a bicker and bitchfest for another time.

Let's get back to luck.

The dictionary defines luck as "success or failure apparently brought by chance rather than through one's own actions." As a verb, it is to "achieve success or advantage by good luck", 'I lucked out and found a great job'. Not in coal, of course, or government work involving any agency or department subject to being shut down at any time or tantrum,  but a great job, a terrific job, just terrific.

And with luck, it's an easy hop over to talking a little about the odds.

Again, dictionary def: the ratio between the amounts staked by the parties to a bet, based on the expected probability either way.

Yeah. BORED. We all know what the odds are. The "odds" in our usual usage, are the chance or chances we have of anything happening the way we want or need them to happen as opposed to it all going south when we least need that to happen.

The odds that your bank deposit will be credited to your account before those six checks you wrote clear.

The odds that it will snow knee deep when they're only forecasting flurries. And vice versa.

The odds that, before your life on this Earth comes to its end, you'll be able to get Baby Shark out of your head once you've heard it.

The odds that despite every , with one notable exception,  presidential candidate vowing to bring us all together, we will ever actually, under any imaginable circumstances, come together.

America likes to take chances. They like to go up against the odds.

Just do a quick You Tube search of videos featuring people driving their cars around while wearing a blindfold like Sandra Bullock in that movie.

Hey, I said America likes to go up against the odds. Intelligence is never a given at any time.

America also likes winners. And, of course, winning. Again, I would refer you to the millions of Americans who put the fate of this nation in incompetent, amateur hour hands solely on the promise that there would be lots and lots...and lots of winning.

At the same time, America, if only subliminally, identifies with losers. Just ask George Will.

Besides his credentials as a political analyst and cultural commentator, Will is a life long fan of, and author of a couple of books about, baseball. The once upon a time great American pastime.

I only say once upon a time because, from all indications, more time is now officially spent staring at smartphones than watching intentional walks.

Will has an interesting theory about why baseball has been, for so long, so universally appealing to so many.

The foundation of his theory is failure.

For those not hip to the jargon, when a baseball player hits, say, .333 for the season, he is considered very successful as a batter for that particular season.

Yay.

The .333, of course, being the percentage of times he got a hit in relation to the number of times he went to the plate. They throw in an extra digit for their own nefarious purposes, but, for the simpler math lovers in the cheap seats today, let's put it this way:

A batter hitting .333 is getting a hit 1/3 of the time.

And again. Yay.

Will, meanwhile, correctly, and not just a little sardonically, points out that 1/3 means that the batter is failing 66.6666666% of the time.

66.67% rounding up.

67% if you're not a fan of the team.

So, in baseball, it can accurately be offered that three out of ten ain't bad.

Our other George, today, Mr. Bernard Shaw, puts his own fun p.o.v. on the whole percentage perspective.

"...when I was a young man, I observed that nine out of ten things I did were failures. So I did ten times more work..."

Glass half full is always a tasty treat. Even when it leaves just a little Hallmark Card aftertaste.

Finally, wrapping up this homily reflecting on how we can't always get what we want, we turn to who put the ground beef back in rock and roll, Meat Loaf. And, again, in the interest of accuracy, we're obliged to include the name Jim Steinman, the composer/lyricist who put Loaf's lips around the six word phrase used to comfort the having fallen short amongst us.

Two out of three ain't bad.

All of this is by way of illustrating that nothing in life is guaranteed, all good things must come to an end and just like patience, excuses, gas and your brand of cigarettes wherever you stop for cigarettes,luck....runs out.

802 days ago, at this writing, America's luck ran out.

The concept of choosing one person to be the leader of an entire nation has always been risky business.

After all, we're talking about choosing a human being. That biological enigma chock a block full of contradictions, virtues and vices, strengths and weaknesses, skills and lack thereof.

And in the 230 year history of the Presidency of the United States, America has, let's just cut the crap and to the chase...lucked out.

Those history books are filled with mountains of minutiae about the idiosyncracies, quirks, eccentricities, even flaws and failings of the 43 men who held the office beginning in 1789. (yes, 44 presidents through 2016, but Cleveland was elected twice, non consecutively, so, 43 men)

Here's a few fun facts to share at the espresso machine.

Washington's teeth weren't wood, they were made of animal teeth, brass screws and even some bone.
John Quincy Adams was a daily skinny dipper in the Potomac River.
Jackson killed a man in a duel for insulting his wife.
Buchanan bought slaves, so he could free the slaves, so as to enhance his reputation.
Cleveland's wife...was his adopted daughter.
Harding had an illegitimate daughter.
Coolidge liked having his head rubbed with petroleum jelly.
Eisenhower ordered squirrels be shot because they messed up his putting green.
Kennedy hit on everything that wore a skirt.
Johnson was vain, petty and, arguably, clinically narcissistic.
Carter reported a UFO sighting.

And that's just the greatest hits.

Humanness on outrageous, even offensive, display notwithstanding, though, through 230 years and 43 men (... again...43 men...Cleveland), not one man who stood with a hand on the Bible and swore to preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States...

...ever publicly and bluntly denigrated and undermined the authority and reputations of the FBI, the Department of Justice and the American Justice System, including but not limited to judges and their courts.
...publicly insulted and ridiculed generations long allies of the United States
...publicly incited hatred, and possible retribution, on the free press by declaring them "the enemy of the people".
...held private meetings with leaders of American adversaries, refused to testify as to the content of those meetings and oversaw the destruction of any and all records of those conversations.
...directly caused drastic economic downturns by careless, reckless public commentary, primarily through social media...
...publicly mocked, denigrated and ridiculed anyone who expressed any opinion, suggestion or fair and reasonable criticism of his actions for any reason...ever.
...mocked and/or made a mockery of essentially every inch of the foundation upon which America has been built...
...endorsed, by failure to condemn, white supremacist groups, hate groups and neo-Nazis.
...pandered obviously, and disgracefully, only to a specific group of hate filled, racist deplorables.
...inspired the creation of new hate groups and lynch mobs that wear the red cap of MAGA as proudly as did hate groups and lynch mobs 80 years ago wearing the twisted cross known as swastika.

America, for 230 years, lucked out.

Those with overwhelmingly outrageous failings as a human being were weeded out of the process before the process took them all the way to 1600 Pennsylvania.

And those flawed souls who managed to move into the Oval had, at least, a fail safe sense of dignity, integrity and a love of and respect for this country, its values and its traditions, that served as their saving grace during their time in office.

That our America went 230 years without the worst of us slipping through the cracks was, undeniably, a certified lucky streak.

802 days ago, at this writing, America ran out of luck.

We measure a lot of our success in life by percentages.

Three out of ten in baseball....one out of ten in business and the arts....two out of three in matters of the heart.

And it can be argued that 44 successes out of 45 attempts is a spectacular batting average.

But to say, knowing what we know and seeing what we've seen in the last 802 days, that only 1 out of 45 is something of which we can be proud?

No such luck.

Defect And Defect Have Two Different Meanings, Too

Nothing gets the tongues waggin' at the water cooler like a good old fashioned recall.

And not to wander too far off the point from the git-go, but I'd be down with giving the process a different name.

Something unique.

Because recall, the act of officially calling for the return of someone or something, is, of course, spelled exactly the same way as recall, the action of remembering something.

The sole determination in distinguishing between the two being pronunciation.

One RE-calls a defective automobile. One re-CALLS thinking at the time that buying that car in the first place was a bad idea.

Then, you throw in regional dialects and the whole process breaks down.  

In the South, for example, one could very easily be regaled with tales of how you RE-call that time that your P.O.S F-150 got RE-called.

And while all of this might seem a silly ol' splittin' of semantic hairs, the last couple of years have hammered home the puddiny proof that little things like vocabulary, spelling, grammar all matter a whole lot more than ever before.

He said, as covfefe held the smocking gun on the guy demanding he fork over his hamberder.

Least, as near as we can RE-call.

The RE-call that means calling for the return of something, meanwhile, always causes unpresidented concern. Because it always means that while something might be rotten in Denmark, those delightful Danes don't have any corner on screwing the pooch.

A quick Google search and one just as quickly re-CALLS a number of notable call backs.

1982. Tylenol. Supposed tampering causing deaths.

2010. Toyota. Floor mats that had the potential to cause gas pedals to get stuck.

2014. GM. Faulty ignition switches that could shut the engine off without warning.

2016. Samsung. The Galaxy Note 7 had a whimsical way of bursting into flames at inopportune moments. Although one wonders what, exactly, would constitute an opportune moment. We can't RE-call a single one.

Nothing catastrophic, per se, recalled in the year just ended and 2019 is still in training pants, although Consumer Affairs posts a nice list of current recalls, already fairly lengthy. Again, mostly food items that contain one allergen or another. We did notice that Woodlot Shop of Vancouver, BC has recalled 1500 two wicked candles, if you're reading this today and happened to purchase one or some of them. Turns out that once they're lit, there's a sizable risk that the glass jar might crack.

Not an uncommon occurrence, actually, when fire meets glass. And a big ol' "we told you no good could come from two wicks" from our more Evangelical readers.

There is, though, one consumer product that has, surprisingly, not been subject to a massive, newsworthy recall. And we feel an obligation to serve the public by making it known as soon as possible, right here, right now.

Right after this.

Nancy Pelosi wrote Donald Trump a letter that, essentially, dis-invited him from coming to Capitol Hill to deliver the yearly State Of The Union address. The what, when, why, and hows of it all are, of course, available on television, radio, online and, we're pretty sure, the back of the boxes of several best selling breakfast cereals. So, we'll spare you the mindless repetition and move on to the blowback.

Because, as you will all RE-call from our last couple of years together, nobody ever dare hint of a huff or a puff in Donald's direction without anticipating, expecting, hell, even provoking blowback.

Donald wrote Nancy a letter telling her that her planned trip overseas was being postponed, although she could still go if she wanted to fly commercial. Translation: Donald took Nancy's government plane boarding pass away from her. One might even say he RE-called it.

Pretty sure that's the correct pronunciation there because re-CALL would indicate remembering and that wouldn't apply to Donald. Dude can't even re-CALL how to spell hamburger.

Again, for more details, turn on, tune in, log on or turn that box of Captain Crunch around and have at it.

Clearly, the stage has been set, the die has been cast, the stallion has been harnessed to the sulky for a perpetual motion, no, you are, no, YOU are, no, you are, no, YOU are between the bigly executive and the lady with the gavel. We're not ready to call it for one side or the other so early in the race but we will say this.

As any married male will confirm and testify, the man may be the occupant of one House. But the woman is the Speaker of another. And when it comes to power plays, a pair of heels historically beats a single heel every single time.

Jury, and/or eventual impeachment committee, still out on that one for the time being.

Back to defective products.

Perusing through assorted posts and applicable assorted comments regarding assorted posts, I came upon, to no one's surprise at this point in the production, a number of people who were clearly congratulatory toward Donald's denial of Nancy's freedom to fly.

The language was, for the most part, reasonably legible and/or educated, but a little layer peeling revealed a very clear primal presentation. Pretty much ranging from "atta, boy" through some "way to go, dude" right up to and, frankly, smashing right on through to the "you tell that bitch where to get off, big boss man, we gotcha back, Jack."

And this wasn't just the predictable struts and grunts from the part of Donald's demographic that think IQ is that candy ass, snoflake, weird Japanese poetry shit. These "you go, guy"s were from what could ostensibly be called reasonable members of reasonable communities.

As I recall, I wasn't so much surprised by their perspective this time around as much as I was disappointed.

Because, at some point, we all really want to believe that those we respect, but have shown serious signs of defecting from the basically bright club, will realize it's time to give it up and resume their normal IQ. The quotient not the quatrain.

And that's when I realized that defective product could very easily be responsible.

Because I'm convinced beyond doubt that these people consider themselves good Americans, good and decent people, good and decent friends and neighbors, reasonable and willing to see reason, passionate in their beliefs but open minded and, more importantly, smart enough to know that whatever our differences might be, this nation is one, count it, one big boat and we are all in it. Together. Sink or swim.

But, here's how it's still playing out. And apologies for the re-hash, but backstory is key to accuracy here.

The President of the United States wants five billion dollars.
The Speaker of the House says no.
The President of the United States takes the livelihoods of almost a million Americans hostage, demanding the five billion dollars as ransom.
The Speaker of the House refuses to pay ransom.
The President of the United States refuses to end the hostage situation.
The Speaker of the House suggests that, given the unpresidented turmoil, a postponement of the State of the Union might be appropriate or, if preferred, the Constitutional requirement for a report to the nation can be satisfied by a written submission.
The President of the United States rescinds permission for the Speaker to use government aircraft. (For a trip, by the way, which she had already canceled and we'll skip over Melania using government aircraft to head for the Florida weekend)

The whole ten wrongs don't make nine rights summed up this way, earlier this week, when I posted the following.

So now we get inundated with the "by now the shutdown has cost what the wall would have cost" blather....
And again we wander off the point...
You don't hold the livelihoods of Americans for ransom for any reason ever.
You don't give into that kind of demand for ransom for any reason ever.
And holding those livelihoods for ransom would be criminally wrong if it was being done by anyone of any party at any time for any reason.
In this instance it just happens to be Donald.

Donald Trump is holding the livelihoods of a million Americans for ransom.

Nancy Pelosi is refusing to pay the ransom.

Seemingly reasonable people are cheering Donald Trump for "tellin that bitch where to get off, big boss, man, we got yer back, Jack."

The same seemingly reasonable people who obviously consider themselves good Americans, good and decent people, good and decent friends and neighbors, reasonable and willing to see reason, passionate in their beliefs but open minded and, more importantly, smart enough to know that whatever our differences might be, this nation is one, count it, one big boat and we are all in it. Together. Sink or swim.

And that America doesn't negotiate with those who hold our valuables, whatever those valuables might be, for ransom.

There's only one explanation for those people cheering someone doing just that.

Obviously, their mirrors are defective.

They look and the reflection they see is that of a patriot.

Not an enabler.

Not an accessory after the fact to extortion.

Surely they remember a time when that kind of behavior would be unacceptable to anyone, no matter what their political position.

Clearly, they're unable to recall.

Them Horse Drawn Carriages Ain't Gonna Get Us Nowhere, Neither

Today's piece is brought to you by "eternal questions"

Which came first, the chicken or the egg?

What is the meaning of life?

Is there life after death?

Does God really exist?

Why does the other line always move faster?

And a new entry in our sweepstakes, a query queried more and more often with each passing day.

Do I have to draw you a picture?

Earlier this week, while reading through the discussion thread between a Facebook friend of mine and a friend of his, I did something I rarely do. I added my own comment to the discussion. As a rule, I don't chime in unless invited to chime, first, because, despite the current prevailing climate of it being permissible, even admirable, to talk over each other, I'm an old fashioned guy...and it's rude.

Second, because, next to pretty much everything that comes out of D.C. these days, the thing that most chaps my cheeks is "helpers". Defined here as those folks who read whatever gets posted and have already started typing in their two cents before they've even finished reading the post they're going to make better with their wit and wisdom.

But, third, and mostly, because we're at a point in the "national debate" in which, first, even the term "national debate" has become an oxymoron on a par with jumbo shrimp, business ethics...and Microsoft Works and very few, if any, of us are wasting any of our precious moments of life actually listening to each other right now.

Every once in a while, though, the temptation to try and sprinkle a little perspective into the soup still bitch slaps my better judgement and I give in to the little voice in my head suddenly singing hits from Hamilton.

I am not gonna miss / my shot.

Their conversation was focused on, wait for it.....okay, there's no suspense left these days....the wall.

My friend Tom and his friend Matt were batting the barrier birdie as follows:


Matt: We need a deterrent to prevent people from coming into the United States the wrong way. Walls are great deterrents in that they funnel people to the proper entry points. Don't you want order at the border?

Tom: I don't support a border wall. I support enhanced border security.

Matt: And what is enhanced border security? You can't have enhanced security if large parts of the border are unsecured. Come on.

Tom:  Enhanced border security could mean boots on the ground, computers, electronics or some combination thereof. I went through this in the late 80's. You can't do more with less, you can only do less with less.There has to be something better than just putting up a wall.

Matt: You don't see all of that as a waste of money if vast parts of the border are either poorly secured or there is nothing their at all?


At this point, my impression was that Matt is from the cheering section that advocates nothing, literally nothing, but the wall, the whole wall and nothing but the wall.

And while Tom and I have had previous chats which found us sharing some similar points of view, we have also always been ready, able and willing to come at it from opposite sides as circumstances dictated. Given this chat was already apparently in hamster wheel mode, I thought an assist might be useful.

Forgetting, of course, the other very important rules of fight club. One, as I mentioned earlier, nobody really appreciates a "helper".

And...no good deed goes....well, you know.

I did a little crowbar-ing into the conversation.

Tom, If I may offer two cents... The notion that a 15th century solution will solve a 21st century problem is the real obstacle... Especially when that solution is nothing more than an increasingly more panicked attempt to keep a foolish campaign promise..."the wall" is nothing more than a new deadbolt on the front door... Any protection or prevention it provides is illusory.... I agree with you... The answers lie elsewhere...  

A couple of hours later, Matt responded.

And what is the answer Scott?

One serious deficiency in the whole social media construct is the inability we all have to always either convey, or interpret, tone, attitude or mood when it comes to the typed word back and forths. Blunt, profane, even obscene snark is pretty easy to spot and understand. Otherwise, it's always a dice roll to figure out what goes in the implied parenthesis. Because pretty much every statement made in any serious conversation online has an implied parenthesis at the end.

For example, not knowing Matt at all, I had no way of know whether he was asking me....

"...and what is the answer, Scott (I hear what you're saying, but I'd appreciate your elaborating more specifically about alternative solutions)?"

or...

"...and what is the answer, Scott (because obviously you're one of those libtard snoflakes who cant get his bleeding heart head around the fact that our President is the only hope we have of surviving the onslaught of invaders about to over run and plunder our great nation.)?"

Hey, you lays down your bet and you take that shot I mentioned a minute ago.

I opted for the more rhetorical response.

 
".....there was no answer to polio till somebody found it...there was no answer to how to send rovers to Mars till somebody found it.....at a time in history when a bright neighborhood kid can, if so motivated, marshal the savvy to bounce a laser beam off the moon, it staggers the brain (let alone insults the intelligence) that the infinite pool of talent, education, ability (read: best and brightest) is not being called upon to use 21st technology to find the solution(s) to border security and immigration issues...and traffic gridlock, while we're at it..(and let's put an end to this ridiculous "new Oreo flavor every week" nonsense)...that caliber of "call to arms" or "ask not...", as it were, though, requires that men and women of vision and intelligence and integrity do the leading....not demagogues pandering to primal fears and prejudices......"the wall" is snake oil....it has the townsfolk all charged up about gittin' better.....but it won't cure a thing.....if only because it's hardwired in all of us to find a way to get past obstacles put in front of us...whether we go over, under, around and/or through them...
 
the answer....is vision....and intelligence....and integrity.....and the good sense to know that the truly effective leader's first and foremost skill is tapping into all the amazing talent/ability/vision available in others......a skill that narcissists and sociopaths...and demagogues... simply don't possess......"

Took about an hour to get the response.
 
I give up. I was hoping to hear what the left's alternative was to this issue. Have a good day guys.

Clearly, Matt was looking for something less conceptual and more concrete.

Like a wall. The whole wall. And nothing but the wall.

Ironically, it may have turned out that Matt and I ended up having more in common than he might have thought from the exchange, because I'm pretty sure he did a measurable amount of head shaking and eye rolling while reading my response.

Ditto, buddy.

And from my side, here's why.

The illusion that there's a simple solution to the problem of people going where others of us don't want people to go is...well...an illusion.

That's really the unvarnished bottom line of what I said in my response.

But, the larger point is the smaller mindset on display with this almost glassy eyed fixation on "build that wall" that resonates from so many of Trump's fan club, almost as if you could hear them doing a cracker jack job as extras in the first Brendan Fraser "Mummy" movie.

"Imhotep....Imhotep.....Imhowall...Build That Wall...Build That Wall...."

That kind of inability, failure or even refusal to see the bigger picture is, at the very least, another obstacle in the path of getting the problem solved.

Tunnel vision. Pun probably subconsciously intended.

And when I use the term "smaller mindset", I'm not thinly veiling a Donald-esque cheap shot, small mind, pea brain, you know how it goes and grows from there.

What I'm talking about is, as I mentioned more than once in my response, vision. Some of that oldie but goodie Bobby Kennedy stuff about seeing things that never were...and saying why not.

The Imhotep-sters....gotta tell ya, baby, whole lotta mummy myopia goin' on.

Clearly, in his original question to me, Matt wasn't looking for any round table discussion.

He wanted his answer high, wide and set in stone.

And I took his closing "I give up" as a sign that, because nowhere in my reply did he read the three word phrase that pays ('''build...that...wall...........build....that....wall....), he was through talking, and thinking, about it.

Again, clearly, he sees my inability to see the wall in front of my face as the problem.

Here's my problem with that.

It took me less than five minutes, a few mouse clicks and some keystrokes here and there to come up with the following, again, quick, just spit ballin', suggestions of ways America could deal with this issue without wasting time, money and resources on nothing more than a colossal monument to settling for finding a way.....when just five minutes, a few mouse clicks and some keystrokes here and there can find a better way....and better ways to accomplish so much more than keeping a foolish campaign promise.

• Bio-metric entry-exit systems (it's detailed, but useful, look it up)
• Cameras (laser, infra-red, et al)
• Aerial and underground sensors (the cartels already use advanced technology from the dark side of this concept)
• Fixed towers utilizing laser technology
• The next, more radical extrapolation of that technology, laser weaponry.

And here's a real showstopper.....a virtual wall. The sci-fi lover in all of us delightedly lights up at the popular term for it.

Force field. 

Roll your eyes till they pop out yo' head, the technology exists.

And, if you simply can't get jiggy with the 21st Century, one bio-designer came up with a pretty cool plan for a very formidable wall....made out of cactus.

Yes, thank you, Mr. Helper, I know you could chainsaw your way through the cactus wall.

Again, you've got concrete on the brain and it's blocking you from seeing the big picture.

It's not that you disagree with any or all of the suggestions I Googled up in less than five minutes.

It's that your problem solving capacitors are stuck in Imhotep mode.

This barn burner of a one size fits all campaign promise that the Jethro Bodines of America would proudly hail as the "CEE-ment fence" is a five billion dollar joke with no punchline.

And not at all funny, really, because there are, literally dozens, if not hundreds, of other more efficient, more effective, more advanced solutions to the important issue of dealing with border security.

Those that have already been conceptualized, theorized, even prototyped. 

And those that, thus far, have never been. Yet. 

So, two questions come immediately to mind.

Why not.

And....

...do I have to draw you a picture?