Watching TV these days is becoming an exercise in the surreal-asylum. Distinguishing between Dr. Phil and the Trump administration’s carnival of the absurd is becoming as difficult as catching smoke between your fingers. From the seriousness of watching a grieving mother, a year to the day of the murder of her daughter, to Omarosa sneakily recording her dismissal by WH Chief of Staff John Kelly, the fumes are choking America. More and more it is getting harder to break through the cavalcade of inanity that emanates from the White House and concentrate on the serious issues that affect my life every day. On the top of that list is the racism that is not only boiling beneath the surface but has been allowed to explode from Molehill Trump, like Hawaiian lava.
I was born in Washington, D.C. (in what was then known as Freedmen’s Hospital) and yes, the name has the significance you think. As a child, I witnessed one of the great shows of humanity in the service of decency the United States has ever seen, the August 28th, 1963 March on Washington. That gathering of advocates for jobs and freedom sparked what may have been the greatest and most memorable speech for civil rights and equality in history. Unlike that Thursday in 1963, this second Sunday in August drew a group, too vile and small-minded to even understand the significance of 1963, and was led by a man who was allowed by NPR to rank races of people like scores on a golf leader-board. This band of white supremacist nomadic nimrods descended upon Washington like a cloud of dust. Using junk science and some idiotic take on Eugenics, the pseudo-intellectual leader of this new version of modern-day Nazism, showed up in a suit and tie, waving a flag to try and clean up the image of his degenerate mouth-breathing brethren.
Jason Kessler, who led this pathetic rally, probably thinks Eugenics is a new wave group led by Annie Lennox (my apologies to Annie and David—I love your music). I mentioned before I grew up in Washington, D.C. and consequently have lots of relatives who still reside in the area. Living two hundred miles away from my hometown, I was concerned that none of my relatives got caught in any potential melee. Much to my relief, after talking to my son and sister, they assured me they would give the Klan the respect they have earned, a hearty laugh and disdainful dismissal. Oh yes, it is a serious matter when the President of the United States gives his tacit approval to a group of morons, but birds of a feather flock…
I was actually ashamed that I even believed members of my family would feel some fear. They were proudly defiant, fiercely unafraid and categorically rebellious to the idea of hate and racism in any form. I asked my younger son what he felt and he told me in very clear terms, “I would never allow the stupid to make me stupid.” We joked about the parts of Washington, D.C. that the race-baiting weaklings would never travel. Unlike the President, I made sure he understood that there are not “very fine people on both sides.” The righteous walk with their brothers in the light of day, and cowards scurry around in the darkness of their souls like rats in packs.
Vote in ’18 for Change.