Is It Time for Grandma to Go?

From Wikimedia Commons.
19th Century portrait.

My stocks have taken a hit. Is it time for Glenn Beck to die?

Yeah, I know, he’s not grandma. But the same Republicans who got the vapors 10 years ago over imaginary “death panels” taking your grandmother when the Affordable Care Act was being passed are now ready for Coronavirus to take her in order to aid the economy.

The president is not wrong to say that the cure should not be worse than the disease—and no doubt this social distancing thing is incredibly damaging to the economy. But the economy is not everything. And medical experts are all telling us that the pandemic is real and the only way to fight a new virus that nobody has immunity to is to stop human-to-human transmission by social distancing.

So, no, it would not be beautiful to fill the churches for Easter. Flattening the curve does not mean bringing everybody together to celebrate resurrection by exchanging a new virus in ill-advised public gatherings. Yes, prayer is powerful. No, it’s not worth sacrificing grandma for. It feels like a very weird reenactment of The Lottery.

The tradeoff is magical thinking from a president whose grip on reality has always been iffy. He’s taking his cue from the same right-wing nutjobs who have whispered crazy stuff in his ears for three years. We desperately need fact-based leadership. A president who will understand what doctors report and not spout nonsense.

That’s not what we have.

And yes, a depression would be a high price, something that I hope we can avoid. But no, I don’t trust Glenn Beck on this false dilemma. I don’t think the only choices are tank the economy or sacrifice grandma. The problem is that I don’t think the president can grasp that. That’s not what Glenn is whispering in his ear.

If you’re listening to Trump and Beck at this point, your perceptions of reality have nothing to do with the marketplace of ideas—you are hopelessly lost in the mall of BS.

Jojo Rabbit: ‘(I) Probably Deserved That’

I’ll try not to give too many spoilers, because there are some unexpected, heart-wrenching twists in the movie that my wife and I watched while flying an almost empty plane from San Francisco to Dallas on our way home during a pandemic last week.

Have you seen “Jojo Rabbit?” If not, it’s a movie that is worth your socially isolated time. You’ll laugh, but dang, you’ll also cry. I’ve seen World War II through the eyes of a kid before (“Hope and Glory”), but never one through the eyes of a child like Jojo.

Not everybody who you grow to love in this strange, heartwarming movie about a fanatical Nazi in the Hitler Youth who has Adoph Hitler as his imaginary stand-in father friend will make it to the movie’s end. Wars are like that.

This is a movie about Nazi Germany, but mostly about how a child’s world is always warped and shaped by those around them, how their perceptions are different from ours, and how coming of age sometimes means learning that what you loved when you were young is not always true.

And I did not realize that Hitler in the movie was played by the Jewish actor who also wrote the script, based on a book.



And, although it was made in those happy days before Covid-19 was a thing, it felt to me like the movie was a decent analogy for our lives today. The war is the pandemic. The ghost in the walls is socially isolating. Not everything makes sense, and not everybody makes it to the finish.

But, if despite the heart-breaking tragedy you have to endure, you survive the crisis and come out into the world on the other side, what’s next?

Endure the slap, if you deserve it. Jojo did.

Then, dance.

Love in the Time of Corona

Social isolation. Puzzle time! Wife, son, daughter-in-law and I have been putting this together for a day.

 The media are under attack. What else is new?

On Fox News, Friday night, Sean Hannity was praising the president’s emergency declaration while decrying an unholy alliance between Democrats and the media that are trying to blame President Trump for the latest pandemic.

Well, Sean has a minor point. Trump didn’t cause the pandemic, and coverage of the disease in American media probably has focused too much on him and his failings.

Because the part of the story Mr. Hannity did not mention is this administration’s manifest incompetence in dealing with a national emergency. From downplaying the virus to spouting idiotic nonsense, the commander in chief has shown what leadership isn’t. And, as usual, he has sucked up the media oxygen, drawing attention to himself and making the story all about him.

Otherwise, a lot of the blame-the-media nonsense is nonsense. Just as Trump didn’t cause COVID19, neither did CNN. And if the media reports what health officials state about a virus, and people then rush to Wal-Mart to greedily stock up on toilet paper—I’m not sure you should shoot the messenger.

After all, many of those paper hoarders are not attentive consumers of news. They see what they see on social media.

Which, much more than traditional news media, has not always been a pinnacle of honesty and clear reporting. The oft noted problem with social media, compared to mass media, is that it creates information neighborhoods. What you see is driven by what you look at—in effect, you construct your media environment based on your clicks.

Thus, we get nonsense like those decrying the novel coronavirus as no big deal. True, most of us won’t die from it—but also true, it’s not a trivial threat. And as my oldest son observed the other day, if we manage to react appropriately and contain the pandemic, it will look like we over reacted.

The media are getting no love in the time of coronavirus. I get that. However, other than focusing too much on the politics of the virus—partly driven by a president who constantly makes it about politics—media aren’t our problem.

We have met the enemy. It’s a lack of information-seeking, knee-jerk-reacting, don’t want to hear it us.

I wish I new how long the national disruption will continue. I hope that the economy bounces back after the blip. And I hope, come November, that we'll all remember where we could turn for information and leadership and where we could not.

Give a Cheer for the Dos Exquis Here

From Wikipedia--Sen. Elizabeth Warren in the 2020 Nevada debate. Or at least how I picture her, with Mike Bloomberg in the background.

In 2016, a disaster of an election year that yielded the most incompetent, damaging president in U.S. history, it’s important to note that Hillary Clinton not only was almost elected, but did win the popular vote.

True, we don’t elect presidents by popular vote. Maybe we should, but we do not. Trump did not win the trumped-up landslide that he constantly brags about and dreams up—being delusional and constantly lying is one of the new “normals" of this historically awful president—but he did win, by the anachronistic and un-democratic federal rules we have, in 2016.

And he needs, he desperately needs, to not only be defeated in 2020, but crushed. The whole Trumpism movement needs to get a severe brush-back pitch. He’s crowding our freedoms at the plate. Let’s bean him and all of his Joni Ernst enablers.

Anyway, I had several impressions of the Nevada democratic debate. As many observed, the knives were out for Mayor Bloomberg, and I think he was pretty effectively sliced and diced. Mr. Mayor, I appreciate that you’re spending your own money to get rid of Trump. Drop out and spend to elect other Democrats, please.

The other impression I have is that, to me, the two most best candidates are still the ones I toyed most with supporting when they ran in Iowa.

Sen. Amy Klobuchar is still my number-one choice, because she represents a moderate approach that I agree with, because she is electable and because I think she would be a decent president.

Sen. Elizabeth Warren, on the other hand, is definitely to my left. And I definitely like her. In terms of imaging a candidate who can handle Trump in a debate, Lizzie seems like she’s the Xena of the pack, the female warrior who is ready for battle.

Amy is a great debater, too, but I think she had an off night Wednesday.

Senator Klobuchar, queen of the north. Image from wikimedia commons by Lorie Shaull.

My favorite moment of the debate was when a reporter asked Amy about not knowing the President of Mexico’s name. Amy was a bit flustered, and it showed. Xena swooped in, sword drawn, and leapt to her defense.

Way to go, dos equis mafia. I’m not into identity politics—yet I think it would be a healthy, cool thing if the United States elected a woman, especially if that woman would send hyper toxic male Tangerine Hitler, wounded and hurt, back to Mar-A-Lago.

Still, I thought it was a good night for my two favorite Democrats who happen to be double X’s named Amy and Elizabeth. I also liked Mayor Pete Buttigieg, and so kudos to the kid from Indiana.

Thursday night's champ, Xena, Warrior Princess. Image from wikimedia commons by Gage Skidmore.

Unlike some of my Facebook friends who state that they would leave the party if Bloomberg is nominated, I recognize that any Democrat running in 2020 will not be Donald Trump, and not being Donald Trump makes almost any random human being more fit for office than he is. I refuse to say I would take my marbles and go home if I don’t get my way—that’s the road to defeat and Democrats cannot afford to invoke their party’s history and snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

So, to paraphrase Senator Warren—I’ll vote for the person that the Democrats choose. But I hope they choose Amy or Elizabeth or maybe Pete. I don’t hate Bernie, but I see serious flaws in him as both a candidate and a president—but if the party goes a bit crazy in 2020 in the opposite direction of the crazy that infected the Republicans in 2016, then yes, I would vote for the socialist. At least he’s not a fascist.

Hell, I would vote for Rep. Tusli Gabbard, who seems like a basket of crazy in this campaign. Even a basket of crazy is not as crazy as the mountain of orange insanity that we have now.

Oh, Have Mercy

From Wikipedia, Warner Brothers poster

Is it just me, or does it seem lately as if movies have grown up a bit?

I missed “Midway,” but saw “Little Women” and loved it. And this week, on a Wednesday night, my wife and I went to the local budget cinema to see “Just Mercy.”

It was a rather somber movie, covering rather serious themes of the death penalty, the criminal justice system and racism. And it was very entertaining and watchable.

One of the characters is a witness whose testimony was used to convict a black man of a murder he did not commit. I had an odd reaction every time he was on screen, a sort of Rocky and Bullwinkle thought.

That voice. Where have I heard that voice?

It wasn’t until later, during the drive home, that it suddenly hit me. The ABC sitcom “Modern Family.” Season three, first episode, “Dude Ranch.” The horny cowboy.

Anyway, “Just Mercy” was an emotional journey. It was hard when one convict lost his appeal and was executed. It was a catharsis when the main prisoner was released, although he and his life were forever scared.

If you can make the time, catch “Just Mercy” before it’s gone from theaters.

Are GOP Snowflakes Starting to Melt?

The GOP war on journalism is nothing new. Spiro Agnew launch a tirade against the nattering nabobs in 1971 in Des Moines, Iowa. Still, the party of Lincoln, in the age of Trump, is increasingly using journalists as a punching bag for political gain.

From Wikimedia Commons, official image.

We’ve seen lots of examples in recent days. There is the war between Mike Pompeo, the volatile and sensitive Secretary of State, who apparently can’t abide an uppity NPR reporter asking pretty tame and obvious questions.

He says that he has done that’s right He has defended everybody. But he won’t name a time when he actually defended former ambassador to Ukraine Marie Yovanovitch.

Over the weekend, after a testy interview with NPR’s Mary Louise Kelly, she says Pompeo called her into an unrecorded meeting to berate her. He doesn’t deny it, but claims it was an off-the-record conversation.

I honestly don’t believe Mike Pompeo. The NPR line and statements seem calmer and seem to express a willingness to verify—whereas Pompeo is part of an administration that has no credulity, where lies and a lack of accountability are the status quo. And Kelly seems to be clear in her description of the events—listen to the full interview (link at the top of this post) that preceded Pompeo’s outburst, followed by Kelly describing the second conversation.

An off-the-record interview requires a clear agreement between the journalist and the source—and given the context and timing of what happened, again, the NPR reporter appears to be the truth teller in this case. It is shameful that the State Department has followed up Pompeo’s toddlerish behavior by banning NPR from an official trip—banning a whole organization because you don’t like one interview is not OK.

From Marylouisekellybooks.com, image by Katarina Price.

And Pompeo going ballistic on Kelly is part of a common GOP strategy. Consider how Sen. Martha McSally, running in a tough election campaign, attacked a CNN reporter who was asking a reasonable question about whether the Senate should hear new evidence from

“You’re a liberal hack,” she said in passing, in an exchange videotaped and shared by one of her aides. I think she protests too much—and won’t answer the question. Anderson Cooper commentary on the event is shown below.

One of the many tragedies of the era of Trump is how far the Dear Leader has gone in trashing all norms of discourse. It’s not just that he speaks in expletive-laced tirades, or tweets from his dark, evil heart and not from his increasingly publicly dysfunctional brain—but he is also tapping in to a deep and long history of the Republican Party turning its back on the marketplace of ideas.

See the screenshot of a recent tweet from Todd Dorman, opinion page editor of The Gazette. The chair of the Iowa GOP is in the attack-the-hack pack. Increasingly, in recent election cycles, the Iowa GOP has followed it’s national Dear Leader in making the press the enemy for political convenience.

Well, I don’t think it’s any wonder why. If you can’t argue the facts, pound the table and shout loudly is a common and old debate tactic. Or claim bias and excuse yourself from the discourse.

Republicans, you’re embarrassing yourselves. Calling out bias if you think it’s there and have a basis for it? OK, that’s fair. Refusing to answer questions, or refusing meetings with editorial boards or throwing immature temper tantrums? Not OK and not fair. It's poorly done political theater at its worst.

Welcome to the new reality of the conservative snowflake, melting in the heat of rather lukewarm questions.

Well you know that they say about heat that you can’t stand. I hope voters help these Republican snowflakes get out of the kitchen of government.

Iowa is Just Full of Sweethearts

New York Times image of candidates at CNN Des Moines debate, seen on Star Tribune web site, www.starttribune.com. By Jordan Gale, NYT.

CNN image of candidates, from CNN.com.

Drake University Image. My wife likes this sweetheart, Anderson Cooper.

Sarah Rosales sings National Anthem. CNN image (above) image posted on Facebook by Sarah Rosales (below).

Gratuitous product placement image for my youngest sister--Drake symbol at site of debate, Drake University image. I posted it because I'm such a sweetheart.

Did you catch the Iowa CNN debate this week? I was busily grading papers with the TV on in the background on Tuesday night, so I half did. I hope my grade comments to students still made some sense.

Part of my reaction to this week’s media circus in Des Moines is that Iowa is just full of sweethearts.

I thought my current candidate sweetheart, Sen. Amy Klobuchar-Minnesota, did fairly well. They couldn’t get her to shut up, which is a trait that I’m OK with. You tell them, Amy.

Drake University image posted on flickr (above). CNN images from Tuesday of Amy crowd (below).

Iowa’s other sweetheart, our own Gazette columnist Lyz Lenz, was on the Daily Show that night, and she did well, too. She’s right—1972 paperwork caused the Democrats to have an early caucus, which gave Sen. George McGovern a minor boost.

But the real start of the show was in the next election cycle when both Iowa parties then agreed to go early in 1976. Tired of the Iowa Caucuses? Blame George McGovern, but mostly blame Jimmy Carter.

Side note: I know he’s really old, and I don’t agree with everything he’s said and done, and he’s also a man—but you’re a sweetheart and we miss you, Jimmy Carter. I know, he’s still kicking, but he’s almost as old as Bernie Sanders (not a sweetheart, but a fun guy). Hell, I even sometimes miss Georgie senior and junior. You guys were all sweethearts compared to The Don. I mean, at least in comparison.

Sarah Rosales-Des Moines Regiser.

Then there was Sarah Rosales, a Drake University student who belted out the National Anthem Tuesday night. What a sweetheart voice.

I wasn’t sure Elizabeth Warren was such a sweetheart Tuesday night. I was a bit miffed at the sideshow with Bernie—not because it would have been OK had he said a woman could not win, but because Elizabeth has been sometimes stuck for too long in side issues before that don’t go anywhere. DNA, anyone?

Anyway, the cast for this particular play was smaller, which maybe made it a bit duller. I hate to say I missed Marianne—because she was definitely not a sweetheart, she scared me—and I’m OK that Tulsi wasn’t there (not a sweetheart, either). But whenever Marianne talked, I felt like I was guilty of something, and I don’t even know what.

She and Tulsi did make a show livelier. Most of all, it's too bad Julian and Kamela are gone, they could speak and spice things up. Cory, I hardly knew you, but I miss you too.

Anyway, sexism is alive and well in American media. And on blogs. It’s probably not OK for a man to call a bunch of women he does not know personally “sweetheart.” That’s a pretty personal name, and I really only have one sweetheart. And I don’t mean Tessa Violet or even those British sweethearts in Big Moon who are my current musical fixations (along with Sarah, of course)—Audrey, you’re my one and only sweetie.

Lyz issues a reminder on Twitter. Apologies.

So, apologies to all. Iowa is full of sweethearts, but they aren’t all my sweethearts.

At least I’ll caucus for one. Here’s looking at you, Amy. And I will continue to enjoy reading another. Keep on typing, Lyz.

And I’ll try to keep my heart pure. And sweet.

 And now, some sweetheart music: