We’ve crossed into the realm of fantasy as Donald Trump indulges his fetid imagination, a world of supreme power, comfortable in the cruelty that accompanies it. There is no level of consciousness that connects with reality. You are either joined in this catatonic stupor, or you should be or are getting ready to take to the streets. All of us have a responsibility to stand up to this attack on every system and norm that has supported our democracy for these many years. The time is 1776 as well as 1860.
The gloves have been off for a long time. Jefferson Davis defended the institution of slavery to contain and preserve the racial divide. The insidiousness of today’s insurrection illustrates how fragile democracy can be and is. We waded through the 20th century producing the most astonishing progress in science, economics, psychology, physics, the universe, and our understanding of spirituality, ability to see and create the images that connect us with the past. We can see how far we’ve come and if we’re observant, how quickly we’re the product or victims of our inventions.
And there’s where we stumble and get confused, bound by old ideas and racial prejudices. It’s as though we have a myopic view of what preserves and enriches life. I live in a rare corner of Earth here where good common sense prevails most of the time. The 60s generation of which I’m a member finds its culture sensitive to the times with many of its beliefs ingrained and beautifully expressed. Let us never take for granted our achievements. We its avatars.
Some friends have told me my columns are a challenge. Is it the ideas themselves or the
manner of their expression? We live in an era where falseness and duplicity is the default for protecting power at all cost. The wealthiest people fight hard to preserve their wealth. The levers of power belonged to them. We in our more humble states have always been the engine of change. Watching out for wealth has always been capitalism’s founding principle. The tech bros have found out that the trade-offs force their subservience to whatever reigning power chooses to do.
We are the spectators rooting for one side or the other. The game is played and we –
“Hot dogs, hot dogs, get yer beer here,” watch from the stands while the real game is in
the back room as always deciding the score. But sport is the equalizer where we find
an equality, a release, and excitement. No one can rightfully cheer the current Republican Party because the idea is to rig the game. Get rid of the democratic ideal of government once and for all. Knock out the lefties with a right hook. No more the gentleman’s acquiescence to procedure, each in his turn, the rules, the rules, what are they? Power knows only one rule. It’s no longer a game or a match. Rather, it’s a survival
in its most primitive incarnation. The end game.
Republicans fight with their bare knuckles. They don’t stand on decorum, history, or
honor. Honor is a plaything. An inconvenience. The stakes are too high. To win is to own. Do the spectators matter? Not really. Up in the stands politicians would have to explain themselves and answer the real questions. TV is too easy a format to twist and contort. In the flesh it’s a different game. Republicans learned quickly that town halls spelled death. Reality is far too threatening to the would- be autocrats who fly on deception rather than perception.
It’s a big boat to keep afloat and deception is a breeze that the sails eventually will spill when the captain’s fantasies take over the helm. End of sailing analogy. Current projections make it sound like losing our democratic principles of government with the present course will take a long time to reconstruct. That’s my greatest fear. Once lost, the compass can point anywhere, and the reefs and rocks lie just under the surface.
This past weekend I drove up to Ogunquit and took a cruise on an antique classic 1939
wooden sloop The Silver Lining. How well it steadied itself in the gathering breeze and swells. How beautifully it glided as though it owned the seas. Function and design had such elegant purpose. The captain’s priorities were attunement to the wind, the directions, sail trim, and always the destination, and most importantly, the safety of all on board. That’s what a true leader does. Trump is a pirate and if the ship flounders, he’s the first one in the life raft. How despicable. Government is always a raucous affair, spray over its bow, dependent on skill, possible to capsize when respect for its rules are absent. It’s an all hands-on deck urgency for democracy.
Alan Harris of Shelburne Falls would rather be sailing but having the river nearby reminds him we are mostly water anyway. His novel “The Preposterous Tale” he hopes will appear soon. He lives on the Buckland side with family and cat Kiko.