Stop Laughing So Hard: Your Election Doubting Congressman Wants Your "Feedback"

Ta

"Submitted...for your perusal:

A Congressman who proved

receptive to Trumpian claims 

of election fraud in 2020,

wants you to fill out a survey.

"Truly -- a conundrum that

can only exist in the middle ground,

between light and shadow,

between science and superstition...

Only...in...The Twilight Zone."

<i.>

I wouldn't have gotten wind of this item, had a friend of mine in Congressman Bill Huizenga's Fourth District not passed it my way. Huizenga, for those who don't know his name, happens to be among those who signed on -- at least initially, and we'll get to that shortly -- Trump's deranged, yet calculated attempt to overturn his 2020 election loss, and remain in power indefinitely.

Unlike most of his cohorts, though -- specifically, the 147 Republicans in the U.S. House of Representatives, who voted to overturn Joe Biden's victory over Trump -- Huizenga though he could have it both ways. He signed onto an amicus brief filed by Texas's shapeshifting Attorney General, Bill Paxton, asking the U.S. Supreme Court to slap down Michigan Secretary of State Jocelyn Benson, for making changes to the election process during the COVID-19 pandemic.

But when push came to shove, Huizenga didn't end up actually voting to decertify Biden's election. Not because it was somehow intrinsically seditious, nor based on a questionable premise -- as Trump signaled, in his notorious statement, "Frankly, we won this election" -- but simply because it wouldn't have lifted Trump over the finish line. Since it wouldn't have made any difference, it was best to move on. Call him one of the election ambivalent, perhaps.

Now comes this single-question "survey," which seems like a scam to pad Huizenga's mailing list. You can see the disclaimer buried underneath the lone question he asks, in greatly reduced fine print: "Taking this survey will sign you up for future news and updates from my office."

My friend has never done that, and I wouldn't advise anybody else to do it, either, because if you don't support the so-called survey's premise, what's the point of doing it in the first place? Here's the email that went out:

<ii.>

Huizenga gives away the punchline right in the opening sentence: "President Biden’s failed border policies jeopardize our national security and leave our country vulnerable to serious threats." The premise of the next paragraph, which implicitly links those six million illegals to drugs and terrorism, is not only dubious, it's downright racist.

We all know who Huizenga and his election denying brethren want to protect us from, right? Hint: it isn't the rich white entitled class, whose financial terrorism is proving way more devastating than whatever products the Mexican cartel masters are shipping across the border.

Of course, as the Mexican government has pointed out, numerous times, the gringo who hoovers such products up their schonzzer bears some of the responsibility, too. As a former rock band manager once told me: "It takes two tango. One has to offer it, but one has to be interested." Makes sense to me.

The other purpose seems clearer when -- or if -- your eyes make it to the final paragraph, which puts in a plug for the Secure The Border Act, yet another one of those performative monkeyshines that Huizenga knows full well is DOA in a Democratic-controlled Senate. For a slightly more objective analysis, see the link below, but this paragraph sums up the gist eloquently enough:

"While some elements of the proposed legislation might prove effective and helpful, like additional investments in personnel and technology at ports of entry, the bill’s enforcement-only focus and failure to address lawful pathways is deeply flawed.

"The bill’s overarching focus on physical barriers and deterrence measures — but not increased numbers of asylum officers or immigration judges — presents a vision of the U.S.’s southern border where people fleeing violence and persecution would be quickly removed, without meaningful access to protection.

"Further, by interpreting 'operational control' through the circumscribed definition in the Secure Fence Act of 2006, the bill is predicated on an unrealistic standard that the U.S. must prevent all unauthorized crossings along a roughly 2,000-mile border."

Undoubtedly, if Trump slithers back into office, and gets his long-desired American Fourth Reich, he can look forward to making good on those aims...without all those pesky Democrats and "deep state" civil service appointees getting in his way, right?

And if he does, we'll know that Huizenga was among those marching beside him. Elected during the so-called "Tea Party" wave of 2010 certified Huizenga as well to the right of most issues, but his subsequent votes -- such as against Trump's second impeachment, and the establishment of the January 6 investigative commission -- should make it plain where his flag actually flies, so to speak (see link below).

Nevertheless, he says he wants to know what you think. On a certain level, it's a surreal proposition, coming from somebody like this, though on another, it's not as far-fetched as it sounds; the tracking of public opinion is a common feature of many autocracies.

For example, Hitler's propaganda overlord, Josef Goebbels, took regular polls throughout the Nazi era. Not because he cared what Germans thought of the beloved Fuehrer he served so ardently, but to help him work out the government line -- what appeals worked best, which groups to target, and what themes to stress harder, or skip over, depending on his needs of the moment.

Surveys like the one we're discussing fall into what I call the "Rod Serling moment" category, which I consider an event that would trigger a commentary from the late, chain-smoking sci-fi TV host, if we could call him back from the Great Beyond. It's the kind of moment, when people wonder, "What is surrealism," that prompts me to retort: "You're already living in it." --The Reckoner

Links To Go (Hurry, Hurry, Before
They Build A Detention Center Fit For You)
MLive.com: Michigan GOP Congressman Dispels Election Myths...:
https://www.mlive.com/politics/2021/01/michigan-gop-congressman-dispels-election-myths-from-constituents-asking-to-oppose-bidens-win.html

National Immigration Foreign Forum:

Bill Analysis: The Secure The Border Act Of 2023:

https://immigrationforum.org/article/bill-analysis-the-secure-the-border-act-of-2023/

Republican Accountability:

Rep. Bill Huizenga: Democracy Score:
https://accountability.gop/profile/rep-bill-huizenga/

The Event That Wobbled: My Hit And Miss Folk Festival Experience

<"One Night Only (Thank God)"/

The Reckoner>

<i.>

Every musician has some type of "road story gone wrong, about The Event That Wobbled. Amps that pack up. Strings that break during your signature set closer. Guitars that won't tune up, no how hard you struggle. The proverbial five punters and a dog who turned up for you, because all those other bastards scuttled off to the "cool" gig by (FILL IN FLASHY HEADLINER'S NAME HERE).

Keep going, son, you're getting warmer: what else could go wrong? Plenty. The soundman who makes your guitar pop like Rice Krispies run through a flanger, or the family dog, caught in the blender.  

The organizer who a) mangles your name on the flyer, b) forgets to mention you existence on the flyer, or c) leaves the stack you sent him a couple weeks ago sitting proudly on their counter, having forgotten to stick them up anywhere. 

Today's Event That Wobbled story ticks a fair number of these boxes, and then some. To coin a phrase, it was 20 years ago today, when I found myself in the wilds of northeast central Indiana, headed off to something...Let's call it, The Hit & Miss Folk Festival.

Seemed like an easy way to keep my chops up, on a crisp fall Saturday afternoon. They'd even taken out a sizable newspaper ad, which seemed like a fair degree of commitment, right? What could possibly go wrong? you ask yourself.

I should have known the game was up when I called to ask for directions. "I'm sorry, but I haven't managed to leave quite yet, so I may be a few minutes late."

Back comes the response, breezy and reassuring. "No worries. We're still sorting out the lineup. We'll figure it out once you get there."

"Hm, really? So how's the traffic going, then?" I asked. "How's the turnout looking?"

The line crackles with a reassurance that bounces right into my eardrum. "Oh, great! They're all just streaming in, as I look around."

"Great! See you then." Click!  What could possibly go wrong?

The answer comes when I arrive at the site, which seems like the county fairgrounds. It doesn't seem to earn a lot of maintenance time and attention, even though it's the off-season.

The turnout is the sort that you could fold up and crumple in your pocket. Not exactly "five people and a dog," but if there's a hundred people here, I'd feel pleasantly surprised. 

Most of them are just aimlessly milling around. They don't seem particularly engaged by what's going on. Getting more than a sentence or two to pass their close-mouthed lips makes me feel like I'm negotiating a trade agreement with a hostile starving nation. 

<"I'm Just-A Wastin' Time..."/

The Reckoner>

<ii.>

But nothing prepares me for the sight that smacks my senses upside the head, with a resounding thud, when I finally edge over to the so-called Mainstage, where they actually want the performers to play. It's nothing more than an 8-by-8-foot postage stamp, plunked randomly in the middle of some wide open space or other.  

On that stage is a big guy, bent over his shiny expensive Martin, croaking and gargling through "Dock Of The Bay," like he's sung it for the umpteen millionth time, and can't wait to get it done.

"Sitting on 

the dock 

of the baaayyy..."

He sounds like he'd rather be folding the laundry, or parking the car, or washing the dishes. Anywhere but here. Actually, I decide, he sounds like he's walking the Green Mile. Watching him fold the laundry might seem way more exciting, somehow.

"Watchin' the 

tiii-dddes-just-rollin'-away..."

My ears brace themselves for what's coming next. He's doing his best to channel the ghost of Otis Redding, all right -- only with a fraction, mind you, of the man's gritty vocal chops, let alone the energy, that made him a legend.

"I'm just, sittin'

on the dock

of the bayyy-uhhh...

Waaastin' Time..."

A few droplets of rain slap my cheek. The so-called stage has no cover -- no roof, no tent, nothing. The sky seems to be losing more and more patience with us, as it's darkening by the minute.

"Hang on," I tell myself. "This is madness. I can't do this. This doesn't make any sense."

<iii.>

So I do what any person in my position does: I make my excuses, both real and imagined. I scurry back to the main entrance, where I see a pay phone. I push a couple quarters down the slot, get the same breezy, self-assured person on the line, and start piling on my excuses.

"Hey, man, I'm not gonna make it. 

I just had a flat tire. 

"Yeah, I'm just gonna have to
limp back home. So sorry."

Then I pack up my guitar, back out of the muddy field they're calling the main parking lot, and head home, tail between legs, and all that stuff. If you play music, it's the same old story, repeated across Anytown USA.

Indeed, at some point, everybody's experience is basically the same, as I discovered on a Pink Fairies/Deviants fan page on Facebook, where I spotted a lengthy discussion of why guitarist Ian "Sid" Bishop wasn't gigging anymore.

For those who don't know, Bishop played guitar and sitar on the Deviants' first two albums, Ptoof!, and Disposable, both released in 1968. He then quit to get married, continue playing in various bands, and writing for guitar mags. I hadn't been aware of what he'd been doing lately, but in any event, the post focused on his recent move to Crete, and why he'd hung up his gigging papers.

In short order, Sid ticked off three reasons, starting with the aging process ("These days, I doubt if I could event lift a Twin Reverb, let alone carry it up steps to the stage. Humping all that gear just got to be too much"), followed by  logistics that often turn into a real grind (load the gear, drive many miles to the venue, set up at seven, head home at midnight, wash, rinse, repeat):

"At my age*, I really would be much happier sitting at home in the warm, watching TV with a glass of wine. Far too much hassle for little reward, the little reward aspect of this being another factor." 

Not surprisingly, Sid expounded at length on his third reason, "the little reward aspect," or lack thereof. Most of his gigs happened in bars, pubs, and the odd working man's club, whose turnouts and vibes left something to be desired, as he observed:

"Although there were notable exceptions, most of these places were miserable and depressing, as indeed were most of the audiences. At a good uplifting gig, there could have been upwards of 100 enthusiastic pubgoers, but there were times when we've ended up giving our all to ten old codgers and a Yorkshire terrier. Depressing indeed, and at the end, you ask yourself, 'Why on earth do I bother?'"

Just then, a flash of jealousy shot through me. Hey, buddy, at least you had ten people and a dog. I only played to five! Of course, I'm only joking. But not by much.

Of course, it's a phenomenon that picked up an unholy steam during the COVID-19 pandemic, which saw many venues closing their doors. It's a perfect storm that's led to a drastically shrunken market, and one that's made it tougher than ever for musos like himself to earn any kind of living off it, as Bishop noted:

"This often means that you have to drive even further to find a gig, and then discover that you are in competition with many other bands in the same position who are vying for the same gig. The usual result of that is that they will offer to do the gig for less than you, then you undercut that, the end result being that you end up playing for nothing and not even covering the petrol money. Taking all of that into account, I just gave up. Seemed the sensible thing to do, and come to terms with the fact that the golden years are over."

Sometimes, it's simpler to cut your losses, and call it a day. In Sid Bishop's case, I certainly don't blame him. We've all been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, so to speak. There's a lot of bad actors taking advantage of people's enthusiasms, it seems. And a lot of inept ones, too, as I found out that day.

Whether The Hit & Miss Folk Festival ever made it back for another go-round, I can't tell you, because I moved away from that area. But something tells me, I don't really care to know. And deep down, I suspect, it's better not to ask. --The Reckoner

<Rainy Day (FFS, Go Away)..."/

Take II: The Reckoner>

(*Reckoner's Note: The Deviants' Wikipedia entry claims a birth year of 1946 for Sid, which would make him 77. Wikipedia itself can often be a bit wobbly, but given the era in which he came of age, it sounds about right to me.)

Tomorrow And Tomorrow And Tomorrow Creeps (Take V): Plotting Democracy's Demise, Through Project 2025

 

<David Horsey, LA Times:

http://www.ih8trump.org/trump-triumphant/>

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

<From Macbeth, spoken by Macbeth:
William Shakespeare>

<i.>

When I finished this series in January 2022, I assumed that I wouldn't need to revisit it. Surely, I told myself, at some point, the image of Donald Trump, his authoritarian leanings, and his violent cult followers, determined to impose them on the nation, would finally recede in the rearview mirror, especially as the so-called Republican Party's electoral losses continued to mount up, and their donors would yearn to move on. 

The losses continue to pile up, as the handful of midterm off-year results demonstrated,  a mere three weeks ago. In Kentucky, Democratic Governor Andy Bashear cruised to re-election by a solid five-point margin over Mitch McConnell's protege, Daniel Cameron. Ohioans approved Issue 1, a ballot measure to enshrine abortion rights, by a 13.2% margin.

In Virginia, Democrats held the State Senate, and reclaimed the House of Delegates, snuffing out Republican Governor Glenn Youngkin's hopes of passing a 15-week abortion ban for at least another two years. The results presumably also spiked chatter among the donor classes of Youngkin's viability as a "white knight," one capable of saving his party from the demon called Trump.

The sole bright spot for Republicans came in Mississippi, where voters gave Governor Tate Reeves a second term over Elvis's cousin, Democrat Brandon Presley. But even there, Reeves eked out a 3.2% margin, or 26,619 votes, in the closest gubernatorial race seen there since 1999.

Analysts suggested that Presley's willingness to run on a pro-life platform, as the Governor did, potentially cost him a rare shot at an upset in a ruby red state. We'll never know for sure, of course, but there is one upside -- that is, he probably won't get to make albums.

<ii.>

Add these results onto the damp squib of the 2022 midterms, where fears of a Red Wave turned into a Red Mirage -- and the 2018 midterms, where Democrats retook the U.S. House of Representatives, ending Republicans' two-year run of unified government -- and a reasonable observer might conclude that Trumpism, whatever shapes it takes, is a toxic brew that nobody with an IQ above room temperature wants to drink.

Surely, they'd have had enough of losing by now, right? No such luck, since we're talking about the party of the "Dear Leader," who came perilously close to realizing his President For Life ambitions on January 6, 2021, when his followers stormed our nation's Capitol. Far from being tempered, the enemies of democracy only seem ever more emboldened, and ever more determined, to bring it down, "by any means necessary," to coin a phrase.

Examples abound, such as Ohio, where Republicans are talking about ignoring the voters' will, and stripping its courts of jurisdiction over abortion. Or in Wisconsin, where Janet Protasiewicz's game-changing election to its Supreme Court has stirred Republicans -- unwilling to part with the ill-gotten advantages they've gained, through years of gerrymandered minority rule -- to talk of impeaching her. 

Or in Arizona and Arkansas, which have opted for the old school voter suppression option, by floating constitutional amendments that would make it harder to pass any kind of ballot measure. As the standing joke goes, Republicans are all in for states' rights -- until their citizens actually vote.

But as oppressive, and noxious and malicious, as these practices seem -- and, as anti-democratic, and manipulative, and vindictive, as they surely are -- all of them pale against Project 2025, the engine by which Team Trump and its allies hope to bring about what they've craved for so long, an American Fourth Reich.

In simple terms, it amounts to a Handmaids Tale-style future on steroids, an unvarnished police state, plain and simple, driven by the twin engines of aggrieved white nationalism, and the unchecked impulses of dominion theology, in the unholiest, ghastliest sense of the term.

For Trump and his minions, it will amount to a lifelong dream come true, with the world's richest nation forever yoked to the ever-changing moods and excesses of its unhinged ruler, and his equally power mad, kleptocratic inner circle. For the great majority, it will unleash a nightmarish spiral of repression, one that has seemed unimaginable and unfathomable -- that is, until now.

<iii.>

On the surface, at least, a look at the Heritage Foundation's website for Project 2025 suggests nothing so dystopian. The centerpiece is an aggressive federal recruiting effort, targeting some 4,000 appointed positions that fall under the Presidential Personnel Office. Trump's former PPO director, John McEntee, is overseeing the effort, which Project 2025 Director Dan Evans describes thusly, in the accompanying press release:

"Our coalition will then review applicants and match them to agencies and offer such suggestions to an eventual transition team. Our goal is to bring conservative warriors from across the entire United States to Washington to ensure that the next administration serves the interests of the American people.”

Hence, Project 2025's website includes a portal for right-wing culture warriors to upload resumes for consideration in a future Trump administration, should that eventuality arise. But it's impossible to square such benign rhetoric with the more troubling picture that's leaked out, particularly of internal discussions that focus on sweeping expansions of administrative power not seen, even during Trump's first term.

They start with the uncorking of Trump's favored hobby horse, the Insurrection Act, to crush the wave of demonstrations, presumably, that would greet his unwanted return. Trump would also invoke the law to arrest migrants right at the border, as Trump's senior henchman, Stephen Miller, has confirmed (see New York Times link below).

Trump also plans to target the two agencies he sees making his life especially miserable -- the FBI, and the U.S. Justice Department -- by stocking them with zealots ready to do his bidding. Just as in Nazi Germany, career employees who didn't toe the line would come under fierce pressure to retire -- if they wanted to stay healthy -- replaced when their time is up, or pushed up, under some pretext or other (see link below: "Gleichshaltung, GOP-Style").

The list goes on and on, amplified by Trump's social media posts and speeches -- reviving attempts to revoke birthright citizenship; invoking the Alien and Sedition Act as pretexts for further clampdowns, and deportations; herding his enemies, real or imagined, into mental institutions, prisons, or giant holding pens, apparently inspired by the mass deportations of 1953-54 (the largest such endeavors in American history, so far).

Name the abuse of power, and he plans to unleash it. It does not take a math whiz, nor a nuclear physicist, to imagine the lasting damage that such a full throttle assault on human rights will mean, in the world's largest and longest-running democracy, one that may take decades to undo -- that is, if the voters allow it. 

<Separated at birth? Josef Goebbels (left),
Nazi Propaganda Minister;
Trump aide, Stephen Miller (right)>
<Daily Kos>

<iv.>

For those willing to shrug off such dispiriting exercises as case of "Trump being Trump," they  better think again. Trump's latest Nuremberg-style rallies have taken on a darker, and more apocalyptic cast, littered with phrases that sound straight out of Adolf Hitler's playbook, such as this outburst delivered to an audience in New Hampshire, and his Truth Social website:

"In honor of our great Veterans on Veteran's Day, we pledge to you will that we will root out the Communists, Marxists, Fascists and Radical Left Thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our Country, lie, steal and cheat on Elections, and will do anything possible, whether legally or illegally, to destroy America, and the American Dream. The threat from outside forces is far less sinister, dangerous, and grave, than the threat from within."

Add increasingly frequent references to the poisoning of America by deviant and criminalized migrants; the conspiratorial aspirations of nameless enemies out to undermine his ill-disguised ambitions; and vows to punish "bad Jews" and other opponents for their betrayals, and you end up with a lot of uncomfortable parallels with the collapse of Germany's Weimar Republic, after a mere 14 years.

Without the entry of American manpower and material to bolster British and Russian allies, the so-called Third Reich may well have lasted longer than the dozen years it occupied the world stage, from 1933 to 1945. Yet we should not mistake the positive results of our past as a permanent shield against the autocrats of tomorrow, as Ruth Ben-Ghiat, an expert on strongmen past and present, warns us:

"Some have wondered why the Trump campaign is being so open about the repressive policies they intend to implement. This 'transparency' is line with authoritarian history: Autocrats often tell you who they are and what they intend to do to you before they take office. They do this as a challenge to norms, and they do this as a threat."

To paraphrase our earlier joke, Republicans are unblinking enemies of the "Deep State" -- that is, unless they can seize the opportunity to impose one more to their liking. 

<v.>

So where, exactly, do these latest events leave us, considering the existential threat that Project 2025 and Team Trump represent? Are those who cast themselves as the defenders of democracy honestly up to the awesome task of safeguarding it? 

At first glance, that savior seems to be the legal system, but frankly, the results have been mixed. Most January 6 rioters served a median sentence of 60 days, with varying combinations of community service, fines, home detention, and probation being imposed, depending on the offense. A handful who committed violent acts received longer sentences, of up to 20 years.

But even those sentences are not as stiff as they sound, as we see from the case of the so-called "QAnon Shaman," Jacob Chansley. He served a mere 27 months of a 41-month federal term, a period marked by procedural sparring over whether he deserved the organic vegetarian fare that he demanded. (and got, of course, under a religious liberty argument.) 

Chansley just made headlines again, by filing paperwork to run as a Libertarian in Arizona's Eighth Congressional District. Apparently, he's figured out that it's better to get your hands on the levers of power, since it saves the trouble of smearing feces on the walls. If he wins, I suspect that he'll feel comfortable in an environment headed by House Speaker Mike Johnson, another active player who worked to keep Trump in power after his 2020 election loss.

Although Trump and a handful of his cohorts have been charged, the vast majority -- the 147 House Republicans who refused to certify Biden's election, their Senate enablers, Ted Cruz, and Josh Hawley, and right-wing stalwarts, like "Supreme Court Justice" Clarence Thomas's wife, Ginni -- have not been, and may never be. They walk among us, unscathed and untouched, as if the nightmarish events of January 6 had never unfolded.

The failure to hold any of them legally accountable is beyond comprehension, and an insult to anyone who has ever taken the federal oath to "support and defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic." Without such an accounting, it is difficult to imagine how a democracy can thrive, as the Democrats continue to uphold the democratic norms that their Republican rivals so increasingly disdain.

The sluggish pace of the various legal cases involving Trump also suggests that the long-desired magic bullet, of which so many liberals and legal scholars dream -- the smoking gun, the Atticus Finch-style closing argument that seals a conviction -- may not arrive in time to take Trump off the game board, before the 2024 campaign unfolds in earnest.

<Celebrating Phil Ochs Blog:
https://celebratingphilochs.com/>

Yet our land is still troubled by men who have to hateThey twist away our freedom and they twist away our fate

Fear is their weapon and treason is their cry.We can stop them if we try.

<Phil Ochs, "Power And Glory,"
Missing verse (not used on original recorded version)>

<Coda>

In the end, it will probably fall to those of us who oppose the self-aggrandized destruction of democracy that Project 2025 represents, and continue to remind our coworkers, friends, and neighbors of the dangers that it poses. For this is the joke that all autocrats play on those foolish enough to enable them -- that only some sort of omnipotent authoritarian father figure can cure their ills.

In a different era, that dubious accolade may well have gone to Trump's chief rival, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis. However, DeSantis -- like the mainstream media who relentlessly promoted him -- failed to read the room.

As events have shown, there is no market for a "Diet Trump" brand. Trump's fanbase doesn't want a kinder, gentler version of their aspiring Fuehrer. They embrace him because he is the blunt instrument they've always wanted, not in spite of it, which a critical aspect of the Trump phenomenon that continues to elude his rivals and critics.

Before long, however, the initial promise invariably dries up, as the newly-coined autocratic regime devours more and more resources to sustain its all-powerful leader and his clique, or diverts them to fund its pet projects -- typically, unwinnable wars, or unsustainable economic models, as China is discovering under its blustering neo-Maoist dictator, Xi Jinping.

Yet simply calling out Trump and his cohorts, while it's important, will not be enough in itself. We must also push back against those who continue to normalize his behavior, such as the mainstream media who continues to treat him like another candidate, who happens to have a few rough edges, as Salon notes:

"But the mainstream media is bored with Trump's rhetoric and has now largely moved on. That irresponsible choice further normalizes Trump's evil and the larger neofascist assault on the country's democracy and civil society.

"It is nearly incredible that the presumed nominee of one of the country's two institutional political parties is explicitly channeling Hitler and the Nazis. That should be dominating the news. Trump's Fourth Reich aspirations constitute a national emergency. But America is an unhealthy society where all this will likely be normalizes as just 'culture war tactics' or political 'polarization.'"

Stephen Miller certainly holds no such doubts, as we see from his closing words to the New York Times: "Bottom line, President Trump will do whatever it takes."

Indeed, he can, as he promises, and threatens, and will -- that is, if we, the people, give him the chance. For the sake of our democracy, and our nation, it is a glittering prize that must remain, always and forever, eternally out of his reach. --The Reckoner

Links To Go (Wake Up,

See What They're Planning For Us):

Daily Kos: Hitler's Josef Goebbels
And Trump's Stephen Miller Are Chillingly Similar:
https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2017/11/5/1687333/-Trump-s-Stephen-Miller-and-Hitler-s-Joseph-Goebbels-are-chillingly-similar

Global Project Against Hate And Extremism:
Project 2025: The Far-Right Authoritarian Playbook:

https://globalextremism.org/project-2025-the-far-right-playbook-for-american-authoritarianism/?gclid=CjwKCAiAjfyqBhAsEiwA-UdzJCRTA0zsuqjfVtweiPCCPgHMqEikqbVkzJEW-Pu2T4k41igZN7r-FhoCUSoQAvD_BwE

Heritage Foundation:

Former PPO DIrector John McEntee Joins Project 2025:

https://www.heritage.org/press/former-ppo-director-john-mcentee-joins-project-2025-personnel-database-launches

Ramen Noodle Nation: Gleichshaltung, GOP-Style:

The Death Of Democracy Starts Here:
https://ramennoodlenation.blogspot.com/2021/05/gleichschaltung-gop-style-death-of.html

Ramen Noodle Nation:

"Tomorrow And Tomorrow And Tomorrow Creeps" (Parts I-IV):

https://ramennoodlenation.blogspot.com/search/label/Tomorrow%20and%20Tomorrow%20and%20Tomorrow%20Creeps

Salon: Donald Trump Dreams
Of An American Fourth Reich -- And He's Not Kidding:

https://www.yahoo.com/news/donald-trump-dreams-american-fourth-104502547.html

The New York Times: Sweeping Raids,

Giant Camps, And Mass Deportations:

https://www.yahoo.com/news/sweeping-raids-giant-camps-mass-164740438.html

My Corona Diary (Take XLV): Didja Hear The One About...The Job That Didn't Exist?

 

<"The Big Lie," Take I:
The Reckoner>

<i.>

Rain or shine, employers never stop crying about how much the sky is falling. Show me one who claims contentment with their lot, and I'll show you someone whose lips move faster than the speed of light. Still, now that the pandemic seems firmly in our rearview mirror, you'd think the kvetching would finally slow down, right?

Life finally seems to have returned to normal (whatever that means, however you define it). Aside from the odd elderly person, hardly anyone wears masks in public anymore. That' includes the Squawker and myself, having ditched ours only a few weeks ago, unless we're in a large crowd. (We keep one in our pocket, for just that reason.)

Signs of normality abound, for those who keep score. The plastic shields that sprang up at most businesses, once the COVID-19 bomb dropped, have largely disappeared. The body temperature reader at my community health clinic has been removed. Most businesses have resumed their previous hours. Life's good, right?

Not so, according to the vampires we're counting on to get our economy humming again. Their plaintive pleas ring out, loud and clear, in newspaper op-eds, local TV news interviews, and social media pages: 

<"Nobody...

...Wants... 

To Work!

Where...Are...

The...Workers?

We...

Really...

Need...Them!!!">

I've got news for them. Plenty of us would like a more regular gig than the so-called Gigger Nation allows. But my recent experiences leave me asking a more basic, more pointed question:

<"Where... 

...Are...

...The...

...F#ck#n'...Jobs?">

<"The Big Lie," Take II:

"Elevator (Speech) To Nowhere":

The Reckoner>

<ii.>

My latest experience is a case in point. I responded to an Indeed.com ad for a reporter/correspondent. The tagline for the ad sounded promising: "Fast-growing media company, Concerto Media, seeks reporters for hyperlocal news sites."

Hmm, I thought. Sounds somewhat dry, yeah, but it doesn't make me wanna vomit. Yet. My eyes skimmed the river of promises: $46,000 a year, full health and vacation benefits, paid time off, even training on the corporate dime -- all the goodies you'd need to lure someone from the educated professional class, right?

Since the job was fully remote, "you don't need to live in the communities that you cover," the ad helpfully suggested. I waggled my eyebrows, held my breath, and did what most unfortunates in my position do. I swallowed hard, crossed my fingers, and filled out an application through Indeed.

Like the aspiring actor working the McJob McDrive-Through, the waiter doing demos, the garbageman pounding out his unreadable opus during National Novel Writing Month, I thought, Due diligence? Screw it. I'm not making enough, anyway. Screw intergrity. Just put the cash upfront, OK?

I duly filled out an application through Indeed, including links to three recent camps, and waited to see what would happen. The next day, I got a response, but not the kind I'd been expecting. Apparently, the good folks at Concerto required four clips. 

With all due respect, I pointed out in my response, the ad didn't specify any particular number. I submitted links to three clips, which most career experts consider the industry standard. Here's the screenshot to prove it! Oh, and here's your fourth link. Thanks for your time.

Or maybe I should have told myself, "Thanks for the warning," once I read the brushoff that flew into my inbox, only a day later: 

"Hello. Thanks for your interest in the News Reporter position at Concerto Media, LLC. At this time, we will not be pursuing your application. Best of luck to you in your job search...The Every Day View."

Huh? I stared at the screen, confused. What happened to Concerto Media? I thought I applied there, not this Every-Day-Whoever-The-F#ck-This-Is. "Okay," I sighed aloud. "Time to find out who these people are."

Guess what? Concerto Media came first, yet another flash in the pan startup -- that's shorthand for the Founder's Prayer, "Dear God: I hope enough suckers fall for my inane pitch, so I can cash out, and lay on the beach" -- built around the concept of a McDonald's-type model for local news. All of it hyperlocal, all geared toward a goldfish-type attention span, all of the time.

Or something like that. I got a queasy feeling, so I did the sensible thing, and stopped reading. In any case, Concerto's hopes of luring enough looky-loo eyeballs to ogle its content, and click on some pop-up ad or other, proved to be forlorn ones.

Enter The Everyday View, based in the East Coast area, like the smaller fish it ended up swallowing. It bought Concerto, closed about two dozen sites deemed insufficiently profitable, and started from scratch. 

<"The Big Lie, Take III:

Pyramid Scheme"/

The Reckoner>

<iii.>

I gleaned a handful reviews, via the usual suspects, Glassdoor and Indeed.com, and they spoke loud and clear. Concerto's rating averages three on a five-point scale, which is hardly terrible, but hardly great, either. 

One commenter said that they'd only hung onto the job, so they wouldn't have to commute. The savings that you could achieve, not sharing from sharing some hideous open plan office arrangement, with your fellow unfortunates -- can't beat that, right? D'oh!

A couple others said they really hated the work, which mainly seemed to involve plagiarizing national and/or regional stories to produce the so-called "hyperlocal" copy. This requirement alone, I suspect, will prompt most applicants to "head for the hills," as it's been put. The handful who stick it out won't last long, I'm sure.

Sadly, I'm not alone. Other people I've polled have run into Zoom sessions that were actually fronts for pyramid schemes, or "job interviews" aimed at tricking you into revealing personal information for the identity theft rings running them. In other cases, the site is legit, but your efforts slide down some virtual rabbit hole, and you never hear from anybody again.

Yet none of these issues, as grimy and greasy as they are, will stop the flood of employer complaints: "Those lazy hamsters. Why don't they  get back on the wheel when we demand it? Nobody wants to run 24-7, just to pay for their little concrete box, and God knows what else they're paying too much money to keep. Nobody wants to work!"

I've got news for them. Maybe if we had jobs that paid decently, nobody would have to run on any hamster wheel. Maybe the actor at the McJob McDrive-Through, the waiter doing demos, or the garbageman grinding out his Great Gatsby-styled masterpiece, would have more time to focus on those efforts, instead of patching two, three or even four jobs together, just to fund those goddamned, grimy, greasy, ever-escalating grocery, rent and utility bills.

Now comes the sting in this tale. I know what you're going to say. Silly old me, right? "The business of America is business," and all that crap. How dare I question the premise, in a society that's always hellbent on defining us by what we produce for a living.

I can hear your words clattering around my brain: "You stupid little bunny huggers! You godless, tree-humping liberals! You little incorrigibly idealistic hippies! You want to eat six impossible things for breakfast, and get pie in the sky delivered to your doorstep, three times a day. This is America, Jack. That doesn't happen!"

Well, guess what? Sooner or later, something's got to give around here. And I'm sick and tired of it always being me. --The Reckoner

Links To Go (The Sky Is Falling?
Don't You Believe A Word)

Deconstructing Narcisissm (YouTube):
Don't Be Surprised That Nobody
Wants To Work Anymore:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XZ1dEjlawQ