In the wake of the supremely awful badness that was the 2016 US elections (which saw the rise to power of a racist, homophobic, transphobic, Islamophobic, ableist rapist), think piece after think piece has been written about liberals needing to reach across the aisle and work with conservatives. We’ve heard that we need to break bread with Chitler supporters. That we need to sit down at the table with them and hear what they have to say. That it’s some sort of high moral calling to reach out to conservatives and empathize with them. The latest bout of the “shake hands and play nice with the bigots” nonsense comes from Anthony Bourdain, who recently said that Chitler’s rise to the presidency is the fault of Eastern liberals (content note for casual ableism):
Fast forward a couple of decades and my understanding of politics has deepened quite a bit. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t live in the world of politics, but I know quite a bit more now than I did when I was younger. And I recognize the negative impact of Republican ideas on people in this country. I see the way the people are made to suffer bc of conservative ideology. And that sickens me. No, this realization doesn’t mean I embrace the Democratic Party. In fat, I think the Democrats are all too happy to maintain the status quo. And that status quo is sexist, racist, xenophobic, misogynistic, ableist, neurotypical, and classist. Yes, Democrats occasionally support measures that would improve the quality of life of USAmericans, but by and large, I get the impression most Dems don’t want things to change, whether for the better or for the worse. Contrast that against the Republicans, who aren’t content to retain the status quo. No, they want things to regress to an earlier time. Donald Trump’s mantra of “Make America great again” is almost the unspoken mantra of the GOP. This notion that the country would be better off if things could return to an earlier unstated, yet ostensibly glorious time, is part and parcel in the beliefs of a great many Republicans. An earlier time, like the good old days when LGBT people could be arrested for simply existing. When blacks and white had to use separate water fountains. When women could not legally obtain an abortion. Too many Republicans see those days as the glory days of this country, and they are fighting to return to those times. And because of that, I view the GOP and their supporters (hey there Log Cabin Republicans) as a greater destructive force than the Democrats. That includes LGBT people like Pride writer Basil Soper who elide the harms caused by the GOP bc he feels unity is more important than criticizing harmful beliefs.
That guy in the image to the right? That’s the so-called ‘King of Instagram’ and self-proclaimed playboy Dan Bilzerian. Before I go any further, I recommend you find a puke bag. Bilzerian recently showered presidential hopeful Donald Trump with praise. To his more than 1 million Twitter followers, Bilzerian said:
In an age of pussified political correctness, you have to respect the people who remain unfiltered @realDonaldTrump
When I first read this Tweet, I felt the exasperation swell within me. For months now, I’ve read who knows how many comments from people who say they like Donald Trump bc he is “unfiltered”, “speaks his mind”, isn’t “politically correct”, is “honest with his thoughts”, or some such bullshit. I’ve wondered for a while now why people think these are positive character traits. To be sure, they can be a good, depending on the situation, but it isn’t inherently a good thing that someone (for instance) speaks their mind. In the case of Donald Trump, speaking his mind often leads to some bigoted rhetoric. But I had an ‘AHA!’ moment while reading Bilzerian’s B.S.
The word that Mrs. Bronson is unable to put into the hot, still, sodden air is ‘doomed,’ because the people you’ve just seen have been handed a death sentence. One month ago, the Earth suddenly changed its elliptical orbit and in doing so began to follow a path which gradually, moment by moment, day by day, took it closer to the sun. And all of man’s little devices to stir up the air are now no longer luxuries – they happen to be pitiful and panicky keys to survival. The time is five minutes to twelve, midnight. There is no more darkness. The place is New York City and this is the eve of the end, because even at midnight it’s high noon, the hottest day in history, and you’re about to spend it in the Twilight Zone.