Skip to main content

Sixty-three Million Trumpsmen Can't Be Wrong

Sixty-three million people voted for Donald Trump.

"Why?", Leonard Pitts Jr. wrote.

It wasn't economic anxiety.  Research has shown that people worried about their jobs voted for Hillary Clinton.

"But people who dislike Mexicans and Muslims, people who oppose same-sex marriage, people morally offended at a White House occupied by a black guy with a funny name, they voted for Trump.

"That's the reality, and its time we quit dancing around it."

That is to say, Pitts went on to argue, the culture is changing, and sixty-three million people preferred what Donald Trump is, or did not care what he is, to what is changing in our culture.  Which leads to the still-more important question:

"What in the world is wrong with us?"   (In the Miami Herald)

In 1927, Willie Raskin, Billy Rose, and Fred Fisher wrote a hit song which compared censorship and prohibition in the United States with the attitudes of the French, who embraced exactly what Americans were determined to stamp out.  The song was titled, "Fifty Million Frenchmen Can't be Wrong".

But, of course, about sixty-six million Americans did not vote that way.  The
Electoral College did.

"What is changing is our culture."  And it is.  And it ought to.  From any, even half-hearted perspective, the hostility to Barack Obama was stunningly about race.  It wasn't his policies.  It was absurdly about whether he was born in Hawaii or Kenya.  It was about having a Black man in the White House.  It was about his intelligence and education and accomplishments.  It was about his eloquence, his decency, his admirable family.  It was about everything Americans have been struggling with ever since slavery.  Ever since the Civil War.  Ever since the Civil Rights struggle.

Our culture is changing, and it is painful, and we do not want to admit what all of us know about ourselves:  that we grew up believing, somehow, that White, Anglo-Saxon people are the crown of God's creation; that men are superior to women, and that real men take care of their women; that our religion is good and true and beautiful, and that heathens and anybody with any other god is simply wrong; that men are men, and women are women, and that is the way God wants it to be.  And so on.

Is there none of that in your soul?  Really?


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Friends-- My step-father of 35 years died this morning. His name was Conrad Royksund. He was 86 years old. He was born into poverty on a farm near Puyallup, WA. He was the first member of his family to attend college and earned a PhD from the University of Chicago. He paid his way through all of that by fishing in Alaska. He spent his professional career as a college professor. I met him when I was just 3 years old and don't actually have any memories of my life befor e he was in it. He was intimidatingly smart, funny as hell, and worked his ass off. He taught me to meet people with kindness and decency until I was certain they could not be trusted. He taught me to meet ideas with carving knives until I was certain they could. I will remember him as one of the bravest, most curious, and funniest people I have ever met. He left this world with a satisfied mind. We are so grateful. Dan Hubbard

Caliche Busters and Government Work

When I was young and both stronger and smarter than I am now, I put my might and brain to work doing nothing useful, unless it might be thought that hand/foot/eye coordination might come in handy.  Those were skills to be learned and practiced.   I found an iron bar our grandfather had shaped in his blacksmith shop.  He took old car, truck, or wagon axles, and made tools from them for digging post holes.  He sharpened one end to a tip, and the other to a blade.  Washington State, like many places, had a hard layer of soil, probably created by water and limestone, or some such materials, that made digging holes a miserable chore.  The bar chipped through the natural concrete so that a shovel could take it up.   I found Grandpa's iron bar, and since I was young and dumb and strong--or so I thought--decided to punch a hole down to hardpan and ultimate truth.  I knew how to do that.  Raise the bar vertically with both hands, and then slam in straight down.  On the second try, aimi

The Sea is Rising

Let us just step back:  two hundred and fifty years ago, or so, the ships of England and Spain had drifted onto a whole new continent, as they saw it, from far north to a savagely cold south; pole to pole, as if there were such things. Millions of people already lived here, some of them still hunters and gatherers; some of them very wealthy, indeed!  Gold and silver stolen from the southern Americas funded Spanish and English dreams. There was land, lots of land, under starry skies above, rich land, and oil and coal and iron ore.  The whole western world learned how to build industries not on simple muscle power, but on steam and oil.  We farmed, too, of course.  All we needed was cheap labor--slave labor from Africa, mostly, so the ships came with slave labor.  Chinese labor built railroad beds where there had been rock cliffs. Europeans, long used to killing each other for good, religious reasons, brought their religious savagery with them.  Even when all they wanted to do w