Wednesday, August 10, 2016

That’s [not?] what he said: Logic and Trump’s “Second Amendment people”

            Another day, another news cycle dominated by The Donald. This time it’s hemming and hawing over what he did or did not say about “Second Amendment people” doing something about Hillary “if she gets to pick her judges.” And we’re off: Trump goes off the cuff (and off the rails) and then gets to enjoy millions in free publicity while he and his surrogates equivocate and his opponents exacerbate.

            I realize it’s a fool’s errand to apply logic to virtually anything DJT says, but I still believe in the rules of language and reason, so let’s try.

            Set aside the lowest-common-denominator divisiveness. (The US is divided by which amendment(s) we like most?)
            Never mind that Hillary has no interest in “abolish[ing] the Second Amendment.” (She is an advocate for the right to bear arms in balance with concerns for public safety and health.)
            And let’s not quibble over “whose” judges they are. (The Supreme Court belongs to The People, not the President who nominated them or the Senate who confirmed them.)
            Let’s just focus on the sentences that have everyone up in arms:

By the way, if she gets to pick, if she gets to pick her judges, nothing you can do, folks. Although the Second Amendment people, maybe there is, I don't know.”

His opponents claim he was inciting violence: Tacitly (coyly) encouraging his supporters to think about assassination if Hillary were elected. That would, indeed, be egregious. (To be fair, I’ve heard more than one person romanticize about killing Hitler before 1933 in direct relation to the current campaign. But Clinton has never even hinted at such a scenario, which is a yuuuge difference.)

Trump and his surrogates are claiming he was misinterpreted: He was actually talking about the voting power of gun rights advocates: “Donald Trump is absolutely correct,” said Jennifer Baker, a strategist for the National Rifle Association. “If Hillary Clinton is elected, there is nothing we can do to stop her from nominating an anti-gun Supreme Court justice who will vote to overturn the individual right of law-abiding citizens to own a gun in their home for protection.”
That’s their argument: He’s not talking about taking up arms; he’s talking about the voting power of gun enthusiasts.

But let’s parse what he actually said: If she gets to pick her judges, then there’s nothing anyone can do, except “maybe” the Second Amendment folks...
Of course, DJT’s acquaintance with the US Constitution is vague at best, but here’s a refresher: You don’t get to pick judges until after you are elected. You know, after the people (Second Amendment people and Fourteenth Amendment people and other people) have already voted.
In which case (i.e., after the election), according to Trump, there’s nothing anyone can do. Except… (wink) maybe the Second Amendment people… I don’t know…
(I disagree with Trump: The NRA has tons of influence after the polls have closed to influence legislation, confirmation hearings, etc. But that’s not what he said. Not at first. At first he was talking about voting. You know, the thing that happens before Clinton gets to pick “her” judges. After which, it’s only the Second Amendment people who can…maybe… do “something.”)
Considering the Second Amendment deals with guns, and only guns (and a well-regulated militia… but what’s that?), it is not a reach to argue that Trump may have been coyly encouraging violence against Hillary after the election to prevent her from picking “her” judges. If, in fact, he was actually aware of what he was saying when he was saying it (a yuuuge assumption). At the very least, it’s not a stretch to say he was tacitly planting that seed in the minds of some of his most fervent supporters.
(Of course, you’d have to take out Kaine, too… but then Paul Ryan gets to be President, and Ryan scores a 93% from the NRA.)

Did he say that? Clearly not. Could he have meant something else? Sure – but any other deduction is just as speculative, since his equivocations have confused the issue. No one knows what he was actually trying to say (least of all him, it seems), so we just have to speculate from what he actually said, and then try and find our way through the spin cycle afterward.
Nevertheless, this kind of ambiguous coded language is clearly meant to incite fear, and it wouldn’t be the first time Trump has incited violence. It just happens to be both more explicitly dangerous (guns) and more vague (“I don’t know…”) than wanting to punch Michael Bloomberg in the face or recalling the “good old days” when you could “beat the crap out of” protestors with impunity.

Either way, it is not true that his words are being misinterpreted. The words themselves were describing an after the election scenario, at which point voting for the person who gets to pick judges is moot for four more years. To say he was encouraging violence is not the only plausible interpretation, but it is well within reasonable parameters.

If, as he claims, he was talking about voting, then he “misspoke.” But to say that would mean admitting that sometimes The Donald just runs off at the mouth without knowing the implications of what he’s saying (like inviting Putin to spy on Clinton). That happens daily with DJT. But he wants folks to believe that the “mainstream media” and those who don’t already love him just doesn’t “get” what he does. We just don’t understand him.


But we do. We hear what he’s saying. Sometimes folks draw conclusions that go a bridge too far. But actually listening to what DJT says is enough to be fearful for the fate of language and reason, not to mention the whole world, if he is elected. This is just the most recent, albeit not even the most dangerous, example.

Sunday, June 19, 2016

Bobby what now?: Transgender friends and the power of the name

I have several friends whose birth certificates read "Robert."

Some go by Rob. Others Bob. Some Robert. One - and only one - is called Bobby. I have yet to meet a Robby (except when they* were in trouble with their moms), but I've heard they exist.

When someone introduces themselves as "Robert," I call them Robert.

When someone introduces themselves as "Bob," I call them Bob.

Friends I know who prefer "Bob" will threaten to punch me in the genitals if I call them "Bobby."

Friends I know who prefer "Robert" will slap me upside the head if I call them Rob or Robby.

So, out of respect (and self-preservation), I call them by the name they ask to be called.

That's not "political correctness" - it's decency and kindness and common sense.

This is why I'm confused by the transgender backlash hoopla. I know people who absolutely refuse to call a person by the pronoun or name they prefer, no matter how often they ask. Those folks are making some kind of stand: defending the sex organs said person was born with, I suppose.

And yep, then it gets all kinds of weird when folks have to pee. (I can't tell you how little time I spend watching other people pee. But apparently this is a thing.)

I don't get it. I would never say to a "Bob": "Damnit! You shall be called Robert, as your parents and God ordained it!"

I would never say to a "Robert": "Jesus says thou shalt be called Bobby, no matter what ye think!"

Nope: I call Bob, Bob. I call Rob, Rob. I call Robert, Robert.

And I call Diego, Diego - and refer to him as he/him/his. Because he asked me to. Even though he was called "she/her/hers" and carried another name for most of his early life. That doesn't mean I don't sometimes fumble and say the wrong thing. And when I do, I apologize. Profusely. Not least because he can pack a punch. You should see his gauges and ink.

Seems to me, that's just what civil people do.

* - intentionally bad grammar, for obvious reasons. The most recent OED has decided they're cool with it.

Saturday, June 4, 2016

The gift and necessity of particularity: The funeral as analogy for #BlackLivesMatter

                When we gather for a funeral, we do not shrug our shoulders and say, “You know, everybody dies. This day is no different from any other.”
                Of course not. Rather, on this day, this person’s death matters most. Not because they were more precious than anyone else’s spouse, child, parent or friend. But because in this room, on this day, this is the crisis into which the Gospel must be proclaimed. This is the rupture in the fabric of time and space for these people who have lost this person.
                I’ve been to funerals where it is clear that the pastor did not know the deceased – and didn’t bother getting to know them much posthumously. They fumble through a generic sermon pulled from the archives and preach platitudes and pablum into a room full of broken hearts. Hearts that have been specifically broken by this particular death.
                Those are not good funerals. And on the occasions when I have been that pastor, I have failed to do my job.
                Particularity matters. By speaking specifically about this person who has died, we do not thereby dismiss or diminish the lives of others. Yes: Tomorrow, someone else will die. And her life matters. When we gather for her funeral, hers will be the most heart-wrenching death to which the Gospel must be applied. By grieving this man today, we do not in any way forestall the grief we will bear when we gather for that woman’s funeral tomorrow.

                See how that works? The Gospel is not generic. It is always particular. Universal, of course – but also immanently specific.

                And so, into this particular historical moment, when a 12-year-old Black child (Tamir Rice) can be shot with impunity within seconds of the police pulling over to “investigate” him playing in the park; when Dontre Hamilton can be shot with impunity for having the audacity to sleep in a public square; when Trayvon Martin can be shot with impunity for carrying Skittles and iced tea through a white suburban neighborhood; when Eric Garner can be choked to death on camera, his death declared a homicide by the medical examiner, and still no charges are brought; when Freddie Gray can be tousled about in the back of a paddy-wagon with no seat belt and his hands and feet shackled such that he cannot protect himself, and no jury can be found to convict anyone responsible for his murder by vehicular manslaughter and official neglect… and on and on and on and on and on….
                …then, yes, in this particular moment, we must listen to those who stake the claim that Black Lives Matter. For this is the rupture in the fabric of our lives that is breaking hearts wide open. To say “Black Lives Matter” does not in any way diminish or demean or dismiss any other lives – police lives, trans* lives, white lives, or any lives. To say “Black Lives Matter” does not mean – by default – that “all lives” don’t.
                It simply claims that these precious lives are being lost and diminished – and that ought to matter.          

                Until death is no more, we will continue to gather for each particular death and speak of the attention God pays to that person’s life and death.

                Likewise, until racism is no more and all lives truly do matter fully and equally, we must speak out loud, with particularity, the truth that God knows but we so often deny by word and deed, individually and systemically: That these actual, specific lives matter. No more, and no less, than any other life.


                “All lives matter” is generic pablum and platitude spoken in a world crying out for specific justice and mercy. It’s not untrue – any more than a generic sermon at a funeral is untrue; but neither is it helpful – not, at least, as helpful as an unequivocally specific claim that this life, this grief, and this moment truly matters most, today