Saturday, December 04, 2021

What's Next: A New Political Chapter

 

As 2022 approaches, the political situation in the U.S. is unsettling. As I noted in my recent post, “Sharp Right Turn,” the activist base of the Republican Party remains in the grip of Trump extremists who feed off of the toxic wave of entrenched white grievance.

Meanwhile, the activist base of the Democratic Party remains relatively uninvolved and nonchalant about the Biden Presidency. He has never been the charismatic type like Sanders or AOC, but a pragmatist trying to prevent the existing sharp political divisions splinter the country into unreconcilable fragments.

To his credit, he has overseen an economic recovery, the successful vaccination of most of the population, and a relatively peaceful international scene, although trouble looms on all fronts.

If Russia attacks Ukraine, or if China attacks Taiwan, all bets are off in the global cold wars. Regarding the pandemic, some think Omicron, Delta and as-yet unidentified Covid variants will upset the economic recovery, but I’m not among those.

I expect the recovery to continue, the stock market to boom, and unemployment to remain low, which should in normal times guarantee Biden’s re-election in 2024. The midterms will be another story.

Among the impacts of the pandemic may be increased political extremism, and if so, we’ll get an early indication next year in the mid-term elections.

If Republicans regain control of Congress, that will effectively end Biden’s opportunity to get anything substantial done on the domestic front.

Accordingly, global issues will take over, which in and of itself is not necessarily a bad thing. The U.S. economy and military are so overwhelmingly the largest on the planet that the case can be made that any U.S. President ought to be governing not from a national perspective but much more from a global perspective anyway.

And what is best for the whole is not always what is best for the folks back home.

That is a difficult case for any politician to make. And that is why the Republicans are stuck with the likes of Kevin McCarthy and Ted Cruz — spineless nobodies who pander to the historically pampered.

White grievance is nothing more than spoiled-kid syndrome. The world has changed. America is changed. It is not a white, Christian, male-dominated society and never will be again.

Get over it or get out of the way. That is the message a true Republican leader would deliver. But where is a conservative politician like that?

As for the activist wing of the Democrats, restless with Biden’s approach, is the country ready for them? A new generation led by AOC, Omar, Mayor Pete, Beto and the like are poised to replace Sanders as charismatic leaders.

But is the country ready for them?

SATURDAY’S HEADLINES

SATURDAY LYRICS:

“Reflections of my Life”

Songwriters: William Campbell Jr / Thomas McAleese

The changing of sunlight to moonlight
Reflections of my life
Oh, how they fill my eyes

The greetings of people in trouble
Reflections of my life
Oh, how they fill my eyes

Oh, my sorrows
Sad tomorrows
Take me back to my own home

Oh, my crying (Oh, my crying)
Feel I'm dying, dying
Take me back to my own home

I'm changing, arranging
I'm changing
I'm changing everything
Everything around me

The world is
A bad place
A bad place
A terrible place to live
Oh, but I don't want to die

Oh, my sorrows
Sad tomorrows
Take me back to my own home

Oh, my crying (Oh, my crying)
Feel I'm dying, dying
Take me back to my own home

Oh, my sorrows
Sad tomorrows
Take me back to my own home

Friday, December 03, 2021

ACTIVATE THE NEWS

TO SUBSCRIBE TO MY NEWSLETTER PLEASE VISIT SUBSTACK.  <https://davidweir.substack.com/>


Some people ask me how I can put up with curating dozens of news stories from multiple outlets day after day, presenting them here and on other platforms without falling into a clinical depression.

After all, the news is almost all bad and it never stops — it just cycles and cycles around the world as if a global newspaper boy were throwing thick folded papers at our front door every few minutes.

If you just let the reports bounce off, unread, they’ll pile up faster than autumn leaves. If you read them carefully, you might be in danger of growing suicidal.

But journalists get used to living by the news cycle. They get high off of a big story. Some people would call that an addiction. If so, withdrawal is hard too — don’t expect many smiles in a newsroom on a slow news day.

But everyone, including journalists, has a choice when it comes to the news. We can remain passive and consume it as if it were a plate of food or we can decide to try and do something about it.

Among the people who scan the curated headlines I present every day are a few friends who recently decided to try and do something about one particular story in my daily news feed.

They are making an effort to help my young Afghan friend/correspondent escape from his country, where he is currently trapped under the oppressive rule of the Taliban.

These friends have worked behind the scenes to explore options for my correspondent to seek asylum somewhere else. It will be a hazardous, arduous process, far from certain to be successful. A lot could go wrong. The risks to him are substantial.

But as of today, a copy of his passport is in the hands of a pro-bono immigration attorney in the West and a small network of friends are standing by to help. Stay tuned in the coming weeks to find out how this story ends.

FRIDAY’S HEADLINES:

FRIDAY’s LYRICS:

“Running Kind”

By Merle Haggard

I was born the runnin' kind

With leavin' always on my mind

Home was never home to me at any time

Every front door found me hopin'

I would find the back door open

There just had to be an exit

For the runnin' kind

Within me there's a prison

Surrounding me alone

As real as any dungeon with its walls of stone

I know runnin's not the answer

Yeah, but runnin's been my nature

And a part of me

That keeps me movin' on

I was born the runnin' kind

With leavin' always on my mind

Home was never home to me at any time

Every front door found me hopin'

I would find the back door open

There just had to be an exit

For the runnin' kind

I was born the runnin' kind

With leavin' always on my mind

Home was never home to me at any time

Every front door found me hopin'

I would find the back door open

There just had to be an exit

For the runnin' kind

Thursday, December 02, 2021

Life Without Borders

“Not so different.” 

That is the way to describe any of our lives in the end. But the specific details differ at some moments and so do our perceptions of each other’s lives.

For months I have been serving as the English-language outlet for the voice of a young writer trapped in Afghanistan. To date, I have published 18 of what I’ve variously described as letters from — or conversations with — him. (Soon we will be collecting all of them into a more accessible form.)

As for the specific details, his life must seem quite different from the lives of my readers. He is a member of the Hazara minority, which has long been despised and discriminated against by the dominant groups in Afghanistan, particularly the Pashtuns, who make up the bulk of the Taliban now in control of his country.

Most Hazara are Shia, not Sunni Moslems, whereas the Pashtuns are overwhelmingly Sunni. The internal Islamic conflict is similar to the Catholic-Protestant conflict of centuries past.

Over the years that the Taliban built up and finally seized control of the country, they recruited alienated members of other ethnic groups, especially the Tajiks, Uzbeks and Turkmen to join their ranks. 

But the Hazara stubbornly remained resistant to Taliban control.

Therefore, since late August when the Taliban seized power in Kabul, life has been especially difficult for the Hazaras. Some have been summarily executed by Taliban fighters now in control of the roads and checkpoints simply for being Hazara, or for being openly critical of Taliban rule.

Many others live in fear of suffering a similar fate if they venture out or speak their minds.

No single group currently lives under that kind of blatant threat in the U.S., although the widespread racism, homophobia, misogamy, anti-Semitism, anti-Islam and other hateful ideologies just below the surface of American society require our constant vigilance lest they burst out into the open again at any point.

Here at least anyone can speak his or her mind, for now.

But my Afghan friend also is educated, thoughtful and skeptical of organized religion, centralized power, capitalism — all of the major forces that shape our lives here and around the world.

The majority of humanity lives under the control of despotic rulers — not democratically elected leaders — though few are subject to as harsh extremes as the Hazards face from the Taliban.

So those of us in the (relatively) free world need to remember how despotism can rise and overwhelm the peaceful, thoughtful, skeptical, educated minority by exploiting the ignorance, prejudice, fear and misperceptions of the masses — overseas but here as well.

The would-be despots among us would have you believe that our differences in age, race, gender, religion or lack thereof, class, occupation, status, orientation, belief system, education, location, appearance matter — that they are threats.

But we are not all that different, really. The great majority of people want peace and freedom and to live with dignity. 

And it is never too late to remember that.

THURSDAY HEADLINES:

THURSDAY’s LYRICS

“The Blues Man”

By Hank Williams Jr.

Best Version: George Jones & Dolly Parton

I'm just a singer, a natural-born guitar ringer

Kind of a clinger to sad old songs

I'm not a walk-behinder, I'm a new note finder

But my name's a reminder of a blues man that's already gone

So I started drinkin', took things that messed up my thinkin'

I was sure sinkin', when you came along

I was alone in the hot lights, not too much left in sight

But she changed all that one night, when she sang me this song

Hey baby, I love you

Hey baby, I need you

Hey baby, you ain't got to prove to me you're some kind of macho man

You've wasted so much of your life running through the dark nights

Let me shine some love light down on the blues man

I got so sick from speedin', all the stuff they said I wasn't needin'

If I was to keep pleasin', all of my fans

I got cuffed on dirt roads, I got sued over no-shows

But she came and took all that old load, down off this blues man

Hey baby, I love you too

Hey baby, I need you

Hey baby, I do get tired of this travelin' band

I'm 30 years old now, nights would be cold now

If you hadn't stuck it out with this blues man

I'm 30 years old now, nights sure would be cold now

If you hadn't hung around with this blues man