Wednesday, April 30, 2025

Mad King Watch (Take V): Stand Up On May Day!



<i.>
From People's Action
Billionaires and corporations have taken over our government and are trying to blame immigrants for the consequences, turning neighbor against neighbor. With their allies on Capitol Hill, the ultra-greedy are trying to steal our medicine (Medicaid), food (SNAP), affordable clean energy, and homes through a murderous budget proposal for the coming year.

And, through their DOGE havoc, they’re firing people and creating chaos to put money in billionaires’ pockets at the expense of our families, our freedoms, and our future.

But they don’t stop there.

Day to day, billionaires and corporate America pay us too little while raising our rent, utility bills, and health insurance premiums. Corporations neglect our homes, pollute our communities and the planet, and deny us needed medical care.

That ain’t right.

This May Day, people across the country are rising up to stop the billionaire takeover and demand that our government put our families over billionaire fortunes—public schools over private profits, health care over hedge funds, prosperity over free market politics. We reject the cynical division between newcomers and long-time Americans. As one of our founders, Gale Cincotta, said: “We have found the enemy and it’s not us.”




<ii.>
So much for the organizational nitty-gritty. One other thought that occurs to me, however, is that these occasions are not just about America's mad king, but the general sickness that afflicts all of our institutions, all of whom display equally regal instincts.

I got a reminder of this fact yesterday, when I visit Harry's Family Friendly Mart, our chief competitor with Matthew's. The biggest difference between both stores, however, is the clientele they serve. 

Our small town elite prefer Matthew's, because it offers all those high end fripperies that only they can afford -- the $10 organic TV dinners, $6 feta cheese blocks, and $5 pasta bags -- while Happy Harry's caters more toward the proles in town, judging by the preponderance of store brand items, though It doesn't matter which store you visit. Both will leave your wallet equally battered and bruised.

Nevertheless, I gambled on Happy Harry's, lured by the promise of three Diet Pepsi two-liters for four bucks. Simple and straightforward, right? Wrong, as I discovered, when one of the cashiers checked the sign. Guess what? Buried under the "3/$4," in way smaller print, is the actual container that applies -- not the two-liters, but the 1.25-liter ones.

Since the cashier had gone to the trouble of fetching the last three 1.25-liter bottles, I reluctantly parted with my four bucks. I didn't want to waste somebody's best effort, and since Squawker and I were going out of town, the smaller size would come in handy. 

But the whole experience felt sour, as I told the cashier: "You guys are like the cable company. There's always some type of cute little 'wiggle,' or 'out,' and I have to use my jeweler's lens, or magnifying glass, just to see if that 'special deal' still applies. I'm sick and tired of it."

This is the problem with constantly invoking, "Caveat emptor," which bad actors find ways of pushing to the limit, and beyond. I got another unpleasant reminder of this reality when I bought a couple cans of Pepsi from a gas station that I patronize, now and then. But something tasted really off when I took my first sip, which felt like drinking metal and water -- no soda taste to be had!

A quick review of each can's bottom surface solved the mystery, as both expiration dates bore a January 2024 stamp. "What's somebody doing," I asked myself, "trying to sell 16-month-old pop?" I've seen the owner, who drives a bright yellow Hummer, so I'm fairly sure he's making out well enough. It's worth remembering that, barely a century ago, stores routinely adulterated their products with arsenic, chalk, and lead, to keep food on the shelves longer (and thus, maximize profits).

At a certain point, becoming a full-time detective gets downright exhausting. You don't want to risk salmonella from sampling that suspect package of chicken, because the relevant inspectors have been fired -- or the fox is literally guarding the henhouse, to cite two rapidly emerging hallmarks of the restored Trump regime.

You want to feel reasonably confident that your "friendly neighborhood" bank won't pick your pocket by invoking some hidden fee buried in the fine print. But this type of society, amid America's apparent march to competitive autocracy, is what we're staring down -- which is also worth remembering, as we protest nationwide tomorrow. 

It's not just about the cult of personality surrounding these men, so much as the collateral damage that they and their devotees inflict, once all the madness that they've unleashed is finally undone for good -- and we begin the dreary task of picking up the many broken pieces that they've left behind, in their wake. --The Reckoner



Notable Events

Chicago, IL

Des Moines, IA
Join Iowa CCI and allies for a Public School Strong rally:

Maine
Join Maine People's Alliance and allies at events statewide:

Lyon, MA
Join Neighbor to Neighbor and labor allies for events across Massachusetts, from Worcester to Springfield:


Posted by at 1 comment:
Labels: , , ,

Sunday, April 13, 2025

Why Do Food Pantries Suck? They Get The Basics Wrong

 

...Now, this would have worked a treat, 
if only we'd had some soup to go with it...

Here's why food pantries suck, in a nutshell, why I dread going to them, and will move Heaven and Earth to avoid them. It's not that they don't mean well, or that the operators plan on doing the worst possible job. Most of the ones I've met are service-oriented, and conscientious, since these aren't paid positions. Nobody has to spend their Tuesday afternoons or Saturdays morning passing out food boxes or bags to those who need them. 

So that's not the problem. No, lately, I'm finding that food pantries suck for a simpler reason: they get the basics wrong. That observation hit me as Squawker and I were settling in for a lunch of soup and sandwiches, and I asked for the cracker box, on top of the fridge. As it happens, it's a box of Nabisco Premium Mini Crackers, which sell for anywhere for $3-5, or so my online research suggests.

Here's how amazon.com sums this particular offering: "These mini saltines delight with a crispy texture and light, versatile flavor. Snack on these soda crackers straight from the box. The bite-sized pieces also make these mini crackers the perfect addition to your soups and chowders. Sealed packaging keeps these sea salt crackers fresh."

"Come to think of it," I tell Squawker, "when was the last time we even saw a box of regular crackers? Usually, it's a strip of them, if you're lucky. And even then, not so much."

I'm assuming that the budget has some bearing on the choice, because lately, the returns have gotten thinner and thinner, the boxes just a little bit emptier. Still, if I recall correctly, the Premium Mini box came without any cans of soup, defeating the whole point of the exercise, anyhow. As I've noted before, the whole effect is that of a blindfolded person throwing darts at a map. What else explains this random assortment of ingredients, if you're actually counting on them to make a meal?

The flipside of the coin are the items that you do see, with monotonous ticktock regularity, in no particular order: bags of apples, or bags of potatoes. Jars of peanut butter. Massive containers of apple or grape juice, brimming with sugar and flavoring, and little else of nutritional value. Off-brand cans of carrots, corn, or green beans (never the store brand ones, of course). Pancake syrup containers, with no pancake mixes in sight. Watermelon halves, in summertime, nearing the death spiral of their expiration date. (We stopped accepting them, after one literally imploded on our kitchen counter, spraying the surface with a rancid, pink mush that turned my nostrils inside out, as I cleaned up the mess.)

Do you see a theme here, by any chance? I could almost knock out a suitable chorus, in fact, if I wanted: "Sugar and carbs, sugar and carbs, so help me God, it's all sugar and carbs..." It's enough to make you wonder. Do the suppliers really think that's all people without money like to eat? Sugar and carbs? I think not. 

Certainly not so for Squawker, who's allergic to fish and potatoes, and lately, has gone on a gluten free diet. What does someone in that situation do? I'm wondering how food pantry operators will react, especially as the face of America gets increasingly diabetic, and obese, or racked with food allergies. I strongly suspect they won't welcome this endless hit parade of sugar and carbs.

You also see your fair share of weird one-offs, like the 12-pack of cinnamon-flavored Coca-Cola. I promptly handed it back to the volunteer, saying, "There are lots of things that the world is waiting for, but I'm sorry, this isn't among them." Again, it's the detail that's off here. How many people have you seen snapping open cans of cinnamon-flavored Coke at weddings, or family reunions?

I also suspect a fair bit of confirmation bias going on here. I remember when Squawker and I were planning to go some art-related activity or other, and feeling fairly enthusiastic, only to have that enthusiasm evaporate when we discovered that it was happening in somebody's basement. Trouble is, Squawker can't do stairs, which elicited an angst-filled query: "Why do people schedule activities that way? Don't they ever think about accessibility, as something that's needed?"

"But here's the thing," I responded. "If you can get up and down the stairs, you're not bothered about those who can't get up and down the stairs."

This mentality spills over into other aspects, as well. About seven years ago, I remember going out of town to see the reunion of some veteran '60s band, which turned out to be a fantastic experience, musically speaking; the logistics, less so, as I discovered when I had to hit the bathroom of this particular corporate shoebox.

Guess what? It was on the second floor! You could either take the stairs, or this elevator that wheezed and whined up to the relevant spot. I was absolutely dead on my feet, having to stand the entire two hours, with nowhere to sit. 

On the way out, my mates pointed to some wooden folding chairs, discreetly tucked away to the side, presumably so that the punters would never, ever think to ask for them. I struggled not to explode, especially as the house lights came up, and staff started shooing us out. Thank you very much, all you walking pound notes and dollar bills; now that we're finished, f#ck off, and get out. Needless to say, I haven't been back since.

But whether it's a corporate venue, or a food pantry, the bottom line is the same. If everybody runs their operations in the predictable manner, with no allowances made for the unusual, or the unexpected, everybody suffers for it, and the public gets poorly served. The whole madness has often prompted me to fantasize aloud, as Squawker and I have done:

"If we ever, ever win a multi-million-dollar lottery payout, we'd invest some of the proceeds to set up the ultimate food pantry. One that will offer a nutritionally sound lineup of offerings, not just sugar and carbs. One that will make allowances for diabetes, gluten free needs, and food allergies. One that prompt everybody else to raise their game, or get out."

Just then, the enormous pink pig flying past my window bumps against the glass, rudely breaking our shared reveries, and sending us back to earth. Still, we can dream, right? And the point still stands, whether you're running a food pantry, or trying to become a crackerjack writer: if you don't get the basics right, there's not much hope for the rest. --The Reckoner


Posted by at 5 comments:
Labels: , , ,

Monday, April 7, 2025

National Day Of Action (Tuesday, 4/8): Kill The Cuts (UPDATED, 4/13/25)



<i.>
While we're on the subject of "Hands Off," we'd feel remiss if we didn't mention the next major opportunity to picket in your area. So, without further ado, here's the information, as it reached our transom, via the AFL-CIO:

"Yesterday was a huge day for people all across the country to speak out and fight back. Let’s keep up the momentum!

 

"This Tuesday, April 8, a coalition of union members, patients, allies and patient advocates are coming together for “Kill the Cuts,” a national day of action to fight back against Trump and Musk’s attacks on research, health care and higher education.

"The Trump administration’s attacks on the National Institutes of Health, National Science Foundation and Department of Education jeopardize medical progress in areas such as cancer, viral pandemics, heart disease, diabetes and Alzheimer’s disease while threatening the jobs of researchers across the country.

 

"Cutting funds to lifesaving research and medical care means abandoning working families who are suffering and costing taxpayers billions of dollars. These cuts are dangerous to our health and to our economy. 

 

"Together, working people have an opportunity to raise awareness, put pressure on elected leaders and fight back to have a voice in our health care.

 

"Join us at an event near you, and raise your voice to say, “Kill the Cuts!”

 

"In Solidarity, 

 

"Team AFL-CIO."

To see how it's working out in a local context, click here:
https://ramennoodlenation.blogspot.com/2025/04/mad-king-watch-take-v-hands-off-protest.html 



<https://www.downwithtyranny.com>

<ii.>
Anti-intellectualism and authoritarianism go hand in hand, as people are beginning to understand in the Trump era; hence, one reason for this posting, beyond the immediate business that it covers. As we've been reminding people, in many respects, Trump's initial rise -- and subsequent restoration -- reflects the subordination of American education to standardized testing, a trend that gathered steam after the passage of No Child Left Behind, in 2003. 

The law resulted in many undesirable collateral consequences, notably, an emphasis a "drill and kill" mentality that elevated test preparation at the expense of broader educational goals. "Teaching to the test" became the order of the day, with local districts and states increasingly asked to take on more complex tasks, without the additional funding needed to execute them successfully. Disadvantaged students got the shaft, as did aspiring teachers, due to the higher debt loads they took on, to meet the "highly qualified" standard -- which the law didn't specifically define, but many districts took to mean a master's degree. (Hence, the inflation of credentials, and the debt required to achieve them.)

I can't help but contrast that experience with my own education. Growing up in the '70s and early '80s, as I did, I distinctly remember having to take critical thinking classes -- both at the K-8 and high school levels -- as well as an American government course during the latter era, as a junior. Knowing how the system's supposed to work is important, right? Especially if you're proposing to fix what's wrong with it.

Unfortunately, the current generation doesn't seem to be getting those same kinds of experiences. When I see polls claiming that a majority of Americans don't realize that there are three branches of government, what other conclusions can I draw? Those findings only underscore the reality behind such infamous Trumpisms as the oft-quoted statement, "I love the poorly educated, we're the smartest people, we're the most loyal people."

Time will tell if we can get basic civic knowledge and critical thinking back into the classroom, which will probably depend on how many broken pieces we'll have to pick up. In the meantime, make yourself heard on this issue, as you're doing on so many others, and ponder the implications of the Robert Reich quote below. While it's lengthy, it's worth quoting as a reminder -- for anyone still needing it -- of the stakes  involved, and allowing the current malpractice to continue. On that note, see you Tuesday.* -- The Reckoner


<Robert Reich Email>
“Authoritarians benefit from an under-informed population— which is precisely why Donald Trump, Elon Musk, and the Republican Party are carrying out the most sweeping assault on the American mind in modern history. Trump has effectively dismantled the U.S. Department of Education— gutting its staff and attempting to close the department altogether. American children be damned. "He's cutting funding to public libraries and museums— invaluable places that provide internet access, literacy programs, and homework help to millions. He's going after scientific research. Silencing dissent. Threatening universities, researchers, and students and their free speech and academic freedom… "These efforts aren’t about policy, efficiency, or saving taxpayer money. They’re about control. It's about creating a culture of fear and complacency. It's about tearing down the means and institutions that allow people to think critically, challenge authority, and participate in democracy.”

Links To Go (Up Goes The Drawbridge, Down Falls The Axe):
The Guardian: Yale Professor Who Studies Fascism Fleeing US To Work In Canada: https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/mar/26/yale-professor-fascism-canada

[*...And, now that April 8th has come and gone, this link should be self-evident:]
The 5051 Movement (Find A Protest Near You):
Posted by at 3 comments:
Labels: , ,

Sunday, April 6, 2025

Mad King Watch (Take V): "Hands Off" Protest, Downtown & Main


<One of the signs that I brought 
with me to Saturday's rally.../
The Reckoner>

<i.>
Yesterday, America spoke, loud and clear -- from New York, to Alaska, just as the headline says -- through a series of "Hands Off!" rallies, about 1,200 of them, held to rally around two simple premises. First, hands off unions, following the Trump regime's bid to run those particular rights -- long held by federal workers -- through the shredder, too.

And, second, "Hands off" social programs that have come within the GOP crosshairs, like the essential trinity of Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid, simply because -- due to their accounting witchcraft, as they twist themselves into a pretzel, plotting another giant giveaway to the rich, one that will make the Trump 1.0 version look like a walk in the park, by comparison.

Barely three months into the second go-round, the nature of Trump's restoration has come into focus. Essentially, he hopes to rule like a Latin American caudillo, with as few impediments to that end as possible. All power will reside with El Patron; those who want his favors must kiss his ring to stand any chance of receiving them, which he may (or may not) grant, depending on his mood.

Those who don't kiss the ring can expect some form of aggrieved payback, whether it's the universities suddenly finding their research funding illegally cut off, or the Arab-American students getting swept off sidewalks by the masked ICE goons, who seem happily compliant with Trump's vision of them as his personal enforcers. (For parallels, see how Queensland's infamous "Hillbilly Dictator," Joh Bjelke-Petersen, and his notorious Police Commissioner, Terry Lewis, made this aspect a featured element of their repressive playbook.)

The "Hands Off!" events were based on an assumption, to which we'll return, that now is the time to speak out, before the Trump regime accelerates its sweeping attacks against civil rights, freedom of expression, and social programs that benefit the rest of us, rather than the cozy plutocratic psychopaths that make up its featured faces.

The continuing emphasis on waiting for the November 2026 midterms as the ultimate political reckoning is misplaced, simply because Trump will do everything in his power to avoid. The more discontent that surfaces now, the more pressure we can apply -- not only against those who continue wielding power like a blunt instrument, but on those who want it both ways, whether it's corporations bending over to stay silent, or the big name law firms that have paid Trump protection money, in hopes of being left alone. 

We'll let the AFL-CIO describe the second goal, as only it can: "It’s clear that their executive order is punishment for unions that are leading the fight against the administration’s illegal actions in court and in the streets—and a blatant attempt to silence us. So now is the time to be even louder. "



<An example of our more pop art-y,
collage-oriented style of signage.../
The Reckoner>

<ii.>
Matters don't get off to a flying start. I'm fifteen minutes after our noon start time, picked out the signs, and parked. I'm heading to what seems like a choice spot, when the organizers start directing us back over to Main Street, which is about three or four blocks away from downtown. Three or four lengthy blocks, as it happens.

I grit my teeth, and head back to the car. It's easier to cut over onto the next street, zip over to a spot near the corner, and park there. I don't worry about the signs, because I assume that Officer Friendly and company will have other tasks to keep them busy today.

I get a laugh out of a couple from fellow demonstrators, when I gesture at the signs that I've brought. "Guess what? These are from the first Trump term." Now take a deep breath, pause, and deliver the punchline. "I didn't have to change a word!"

Ba-boomp! But seriously, folks -- I just flew in from Trump's latest power grab. And boy, are my arms tired.

Today feels definitely on the cold and blustery side, with the temperature hovering around 41 degrees. Thankfully, it's not raining, which the Squawker and I have encountered in previous protests. And the wind isn't whipping powerful blasts in our faces, another problem that we've run into before, as well.

Main Street itself has long been a fixture of Trump-related protests, which became weekly events during the regime's infamous 2017 to unwind the Affordable Care Act (ACA). In that sense, it feels like home, though change has come here, as well. The former Congressman's office building is up for sale; presumably, the potted plant that blocked the entrance door during the first Trump era can now be permanently relieved of duty.

I don't take long to fall into the rhythm, as the spontaneous chants begin to kick up: "1-2-3-4, we don't want a tariff war!", "No Kings! No Kings!", "Hey-hey, ho-ho, Trump and Musk have got to go," and of course, this old standby, that seems more pertinent than ever: 

"Tell me, what democracy looks like? This is what democracy looks like!" 


<Almost a decade on from Trump 1.0,
the metaphor remains the same....
Another sign pulled from the 2016 era pile/The Reckoner>

<iii.>
Any protest attracts its share of residual weirdness, and this occasion proves no different. A car bearing the legend, TRUMP 2024, circles continually around the block, sharing lanes with allies honking in support of our endeavor. A blue and white sign virtually takes up the whole rear window: TRUMP'S YOUR DADDY NOW.

The sight provokes a brief round of irritated responses from a couple older women and their friends standing next to me. I defuse their feelings by shrugging it off. "If you mean, father of all the various kids by all these younger women," I assure them, "then yeah, it's technically true. Otherwise, that's about far as it goes."

That earns me the appropriate laugh, and before long, the sign is totally forgotten. The TRUMP 2024 MAGA-Mobile continues up and down Main Street, making me wonder, for what reason? A show of force? A reminder of their presence? Keeping tabs on the opposition? Or maybe it's just another way to pass a lazy Saturday. Who knows?

It takes a little bit fancier footwork, mentally speaking, to ignore the driver's counterpart, a burly, heavyset man toting what looks like a GoPro camera. Over and over, he keeps posing the same question: "Anybody who's being being paid to protest? Anybody who's here, because they're getting paid?"

I'm tempted to pull out my wallet, which has literally sat empty these last couple of years, slide it over his lens, and shout, "Is that have enough street cred for you?" I think better of it, though, and stare blankly straight ahead, as if I didn't hear him. What can I say?

My urban survival training definitely comes in handy, at the oddest of times. I watch him move down the sidewalk, firing his questions at whoever's willing to listen, though it doesn't look like he has many takers. Eventually, I turn my attention back to the goings on Main Street.

Nearby, a boombox is pumping out anthems that seem more eerily appropriate than ever, whether it's "Get Up, Stand Up" (Bob Marley & The Wailers), or Neil Young's signature '90s anthem, "Keep On Rockin' In The Free World":  "We got a thousand points of light/For the homeless man/And a kinder, gentler machine gun hand..." I feel a twinge, then a shudder, which is just enough to make me clutch that sign a little bit tighter. Because you never know, right? Anything is possible out there, on the streets.


<Another Trump 1.0-era sign,
though we didn't produce the graphic --
we just lifted this one, and stuck it on a sign,
'cause we thought it looked great!/The Reckoner>

<iv.>
Between the various chants, and brief catchups with various friends and acquaintances, I check on Squawker, who's staying in the car this time, citing a general feeling of being rundown, and dog tired, that makes standing for an extended length of time impossible.

Around 1:45 p.m., the crowds start to head for the exits. Fifteen minutes to go. By any measure, though, today's event has proven itself a resounding success. There were no incidents, leaving nothing for the cops to do, which pleased them to no end, I'm sure.

From what I've been told, about 1,000 people turned out, on both sides of Main Street; we could see them, long before we zeroed on in our respective parking spaces. That's a thousand more people to tell off King Donald, and hopefully -- some way, somehow -- send him and his aggrieved mob heading for the exits.

Which brings me back where I started, to the central issue -- at times, the only one, it seems -- on the minds of the legacy media: "What good does any protest do? Who is listening out there? Who's paying attention to this?" Though such questions may sound logical, from a basic strategic viewpoint, they are often the wrong ones to raise.

All autocrats thrive on their ability to manage public perception. At times, they may command genuine popular support, like El Salvador's despot, Nyeb Bukele, or twist it toward their own ends, once events stop cooperating -- as Hungary's longtime strongman, Viktor Orban, is doing, to divert attention from his country's continuing slide into impoverished and isolation.

The "shock and awful" approach of Trump's first months back in office -- the blizzard of executive orders, frenzied power grabs, and rapid, often ham-fisted moves to silence his critics -- follows a similar script. The perception of power is often far more important than the reality. The faster a beleaguered opposition leaves the field, the more rapidly the autocrat can cement the impression of an all-powerful, all-knowing godfather, whose will cannot be countered.

Public protest is the most powerful and immediate means of cracking that invincible facade. In certain situations, like the Ceausescu family's fall in Romania, it may often be the only available option, when access to power is denied. However, the fallout need not always be so dramatic, as New Jersey Senator Cory Booker demonstrated last week, with his record-breaking, 25-hour speech, which took place in the run-up to Hands Off!

What amazed me, most of all, wasn't the response to Booker's speech; his abilities in the arena are well-established. What surprised me was a question that I saw on Facebook: "What will it accomplish? What it will have changed?" That's the obvious question, but the answer is not so simple, as Ruth Ben-Ghiat suggests (see link below): 350 million likes on TikTok, 110,000 live followers on YouTube, and 28,000 voicemail messages left for Booker's office.

But there's a greater value that goes beyond mere numbers and statistics, as Booker himself suggested in 2018 -- by flipping the script, and thus, the attention, away from the authoritarian in charge: "I think if we give all of our energy—psychic, mental—toward Donald Trump, it makes him powerful….If you make Donald Trump your central focus, then it’s going to be much harder to get to a sense of common purpose."

Once people stop paying attention, they also stop obeying. This is the risk that keeps autocrats awake at night, because once their subjects have stopped obeying, it also means they've stopped believing. And that's when  autocracy becomes irrelevant, as Ben-Ghiat concludes: "Authoritarians want us to feel hopeless and helpless. It’s up to us to show them that we will not submit quietly and that we believe in struggle and collective action. Like Sen. Booker, each one of us can do something, using the spaces and means we have, to meet this moment with the same resilient and resolute spirit he showed on the Senate floor."

And that is the most important reason for going out and protesting whatever they may have in mind for us, as we all did this weekend. Now is not the time to drop the baton. -- The Reckoner


Links To Go: Hands Off 
(Our Democracy, & Everything Else That Matters!)

Lucid.com: What Senator Booker's Speech
Teaches Us About Effective Resistance Strategy:
https://lucid.substack.com/p/what-sen-bookers-speech-teaches-us

Yahoo News: Angry Protesters From New York To Australia
Assail Trump And Musk In "Hands Off!" Rallies:
https://www.yahoo.com/news/hands-off-protests-against-trump-041432862.html?.tsrc=1340&ncid=crm_-1285232-20250405-192-&bt_user_id=cSKPvmJQUVngg5iwA63hPLBDIqSlEUpW5RdVZ%2BN6QMB7%2FUIOYpw13Ydv2FwuXKLM48bSCJ%2FsDe8mYCmuqq7cGr57JYxQHYYF21eMyGpEBqYEpBhDcHY0oE3blbXH9XpK&bt_ts=1743883185997


*Reckoner's Note: unlike the legacy media, we will never use the words "Trump administration," because it's a neutral term that normalizes his behavior, and those of his psychopathic sycophants. It's also inaccurate, unless you count the administration of grievances, and repression. We don't; hence, "Trump regime," which suits its overall conduct far more accurately.

Posted by at No comments:
Labels: , , ,

Another Censored Blast From The Past: For Better Or For Worse (1993)


<The strips that got Lynn Johnston 
in so much hot water, back in the day...*>

One of the most overused expressions in the English language is probably, "I remember it like yesterday," whether it's some Boomer invoking their memory of the Kennedy assassination, for instance, or one of those shows that blew your teenage mind, which you can't help but relive, over and over and over again ("The TwerpTones showed me you could write about the collapse of the stock market, in three minutes or less, and make it rock!"). You get the gist.

However, any other phrase seems redundant, when the past reaches out and grabs you, like these strips. I was literally trying to explain their meaning to The Squawker the other day, but without the visuals, I found myself struggling -- until somebody posted them on Facebook, of course.

For those who need the backstory, For Better Or For Worse ran from 1979 to 2008, and focused on the ups and downs of a Canadian family, The Pattersons, who aged in real time, along with their creator, Lynn Johnston. (The strip lives on, though, in roughly 2,000 US and Canadian papers -- and 20 countries -- opting for straight reruns, or in reworked form, depending on the outlet.)

However, she didn't just focus on the warm and fuzzy stuff. Many of her strips focused on the struggles of Elly Patterson, the family matriarch. One of the most poignant that I remember is "Sunshine And Shadow," which dealt with the death of Elly's mother, and definitely struck me as a comic landmark of the time. Others dealt with alcoholism, child abuse, Elly's return to the workforce ("The Last Straw"), and sexual harassment ("Home Sweat Home").

But few strips proved more divisive than "There Goes My Baby," in 1993, when Lawrence -- the best friend of Elly's son, Michael -- came out as gay. Knowing what types of reactions awaited her, Johnston had prepared a series of alternate strips, which papers could run in lieu of her planned storyline. Ironically, however, her well-intentioned heads-up didn't quite go according to plan:

"Within a few days of receiving the package, forty newspapers declined the series and asked for the alternate strips. Many, however, for one reason or another never read the accompanying letter (or the strips) were taken by complete surprise when the story appeared on their comic page and their phones began to ring."

Other papers took a "wait and see" attitude, and ran the alternate strips, while still others summarily dropped it. This is four years before Ellen came out on TV; three years, before a judge in Hawaii ruled in favor of three gay couples' right to marry (later overturned); and a year before Clinton's election placed the notion of gays in the military on the national radar. Any way you slice it, Johnston was ahead of the curve (as she again proved in 2001, with the storyline of Lawrence's wedding, which you can read about via the Comic Book Resources link).

My hometown newspaper, The Forerunner Press, came up with its own characteristic variation. To its credit, management didn't dump For Better Or For Worse, choosing instead to move the gay-themed strips onto the editorial page for the duration of the controversy. No explanation required, it seemed, since management didn't bother to venture one -- at first.

Finally, however, after enough letters poured in, from the pro- (What do you think you're doing? This is censorship by any other name) and anti-gay rights quarters (Why are you running this Satanic trash?), the Forerunner offered an explanation -- of sorts. Management claimed that it had moved the strips to the editorial page, because that's where it felt the material belonged, in light of its topicality. On that score, management chirped, it welcomed the resulting free exchange of ideas, and all that, blah-blah-blah, yada-yada-yada.

Looking back now, I don't think anybody bought the rationale, such as it was. Anti-gay readers still threatened to cancel their subscription, not happy at seeing these apparent agents of Satan enjoying such free rein; pro-gay readers questioned the notion of sequestering the strip away from its original home.

The overall effect, some argued, smacked of sticking the dirty magazine or record under the counter, and daring the customer to ask for it aloud. Who, in their right mind, wanted to feel that way? And why put anyone in that position, especially over something as trivial as a comic strip? Surely adults could sort out the relevant issues themselves, no?

Apparently not, in our case, because the Forerunner offered no further explanations -- in my recollection -- as management simply allowed the debate to play out over the editorial pages. Eventually, of course, the storyline wrapped up, and without another word, For Better Or For Worse returned to its designated slot on the comics page. No further explanation required, or so it seemed, anyway.

At some point, the world moved on, as it does, and the whole business faded away. I myself had long forgotten it, till the above reminder on Facebook jogged my memory. I found the whole episode noteworthy, having just started my editorial career, and while I understood the rumpus -- to some extent, knowing the reactionary streak running through our fair little town -- it didn't sit well with me, by any means.

What feeling did the strip's temporary banishment give those who cheered it on? Their triumph would have proven temporary, since the Forerunner didn't drop it. Same for those who canceled their subscriptions, or stopped reading the strip. It wouldn't change the possibility, at some point, of having to deal with a gay friend, neighbor, relation, or workmate. Surely, it's better to go into those situations with a more nuanced view, instead of a cartoonish one? 

Back I circle to that Public Image song ("Acid Drops"), nagging at my brain: "What is not dirty, what is not clean?" Sending out signals, I see the smoke screens." (As you can imagine, "Acid Drops" made for a powerful stage highlight, as I recall, from seeing that particular tour.) It's one thing to feel uneasy about somebody's sexuality, but quite another, to actively go about policing it; and a totally different matter to try and shove it underground, and punish it, preferably with some combination of blunt force trauma by law. "What should we not hear? What shouldn't be seen?" Indeed. 

So what would I have done, sitting in that seat? I didn't have to deal with the letter writers, pro and con, let alone take their phone calls. The more virulent among them, undoubtedly, would have expressed themselves in "language not fit for a family newspaper," as the saying goes. (Or, to coin a phrase from "Acid Drops": "The zealots are marching, with Bible in hand/Keyed to the roof, 100 proof.") 

So I can't honestly say what moves I would have made. All I know is how I, and those in my inner circle, felt at the time. We largely viewed the Forerunner's workaround with contempt. Nice try, but no cigar, the consensus went. You can't make everybody happy. You can't be the maverick, and the conformist, at the same time.

On another level, things have changed, even in the provinces. Several years ago, our hometown parade managed to include a trans-themed float, which also raised a public kerfuffle, though it died down quickly. Our town also has an out center, that's highly active and visible. Surely, that's a sign of major progress, isn't it? 

Yet the center is struggling to get a permit for an event it wishes to hold in a neighboring town this summer. The reasons remain murky, which has prompted a Freedom Of Information Act request, to determine why City Hall is stonewalling the center so hard.

After all, what's the problem, if the criteria seems straightforward enough, and the relevant organization meets it? Apparently, none -- until the H-word gets dropped. That reality is impossible to separate from the sharpest attacks against free expression seen in years, and another confirmation, as if anyone needed it, that old habits die hard. As it turns out, however, some habits die harder than others.

How do I know? Because I've seen a mere comic strip trigger them, pushing buttons that end up causing people to lose their minds, and bring out those attitudes roaring into the open. I saw it happen in real time. And I remember it like yesterday. -- The Reckoner


Links To Go (Now Is Not
The Time To Hold Your Tongue):

Comic Book Resources:
How "For Better Or For Worse"
Handled The Controversy Over Its Gay Character:
https://www.cbr.com/for-better-or-worse-lawrence-gay-controversy/

Hartford Courant: Comic Tackles Controversial Issue
As Character Announces He Is Gay:
https://archive.ph/dZIGX
[Fascinating "of the time" clipping from 1993]

Ramen Noodle Nation:
One Picture, 1,000 Words: A Censored Doonesbury Strip:
https://ramennoodlenation.blogspot.com/2025/03/one-picture-1000-words-censored.html

Tampa Bay Times: Comic Controversy: PART II:
https://www.tampabay.com/archive/2001/09/04/comic-controversy-part-ii/
[Another interesting snapshot, this one involving the later controversy, from 2001]

(*Reckoner's Note: This block of strips reflects what the papers would have received, since syndicated comics typically run over three, four or five panels, depending on the nature of the storyline. Seems obvious enough, but for those who wonder, the reader wouldn't have seen a single large block like this one, right off the bat.)
Posted by at No comments:
Labels: , , ,
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)