“Who do you love?” I sing whenever I hear a burst of vitriol from Donald Trump. It’s not altogether bad to think of Bo Diddley several times a day.
The Donald is a man so devoid of love (or anything like it) he’s become a hot coil of resentments. One can think of him as a clock on fire.
Aaron Barlow has now written an extraordinary essay for Political Research Associates entitled “The Triumph of the Lie: How Honesty and Morality Died in Right Wing Politics”—an incisive roundup of McCarthyite history and the carpet bombings of facts now being carried out by the GOP.
Barlow’s essay addresses our eroding moral climate and it’s incitements and it’s excellent reading.
Back to Mr. Diddley.
Lying has everything to do with lovelessness. No love, no truth. No love, no courage.
All of which begs the question: “When did the GOP fall out of love with America?”
I know. First he talks about love like The Beatles or Marvin Gaye, then he imagines foolishly there was a time when Republicans loved their country, loved it’s people, and more than just a few.
OK. Forget the particular day. It’s silly. As hopeless as “the day the music died.”
I’m trying hard to not lie. I love this country. But what I’ve always loved about America is our ability to tackle hard issues however uncomfortable the process may be. Air and water pollution. Energy shortages. Inequality. Hunger. Oh Christ, we’ve a long history of standing up for little people, the folks who most need need help.
This of course is love of country. This is the truth.
One may say, cynically perhaps, “it’s easy to love when you’re warm and comfy” and the argument goes this way: when the ruling class began to understand the limitations of natural resources it turned greed into public policy—neoliberalism etc.
Even during the Great Depression Americans still thought their best years lay ahead.
The GOP fell out of love with the American people around the time of the Arab Oil Embargo.
Yes, in the future there’d be only so much good stuff to go around. To paraphrase Pokemon: “better get it all.”
Hey, if I’m no longer obligated to love you, you stranger, you “other” why then I can argue that the poem on the statue of liberty is merely a decoration, added later.
We all know “things added later” are frivolous.
We all know the truth is featherbrained. Snowflakey.
“C’mon Little Cupcake! These lies are delicious!”