Saturday, December 24, 2016

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS


TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

I have been thinking about Christmas this week.

Actually, I have been thinking about Christmas Eve, which is today. And which, it seems to me, captures more of the essence of Christmas than even the day itself.

Christmas is about anticipation. About what will happen, not what has occurred. It's about the future, whether that future is mere hours in the offing or a millenia away. And it unites, in perhaps a way that no other holiday can or does, the pedestrian with the profound. In fact, it makes the pedestrian profound.

Kids will go crazy tonight. Most won't be able to sleep. Those not afraid of some cosmic retribution will sneak a peak out the window or down the stairs in search of Santa Claus. Others will become inveterate Holmes-es (Sherlock, that is), carefully processing every errant sound from a squeaky baseboard to determine if he has come down the chimney, with care or otherwise, along with a satchel of goodies. A few years ago, a friend told me his son had come into his bedroom in the middle of the night, swearing to his father that "Rudolph was in the driveway."

Two thousand years ago, it was all about anticipation too. We have encrusted that day with layers of theological speculation, so much so that we are now almost in need of theo-archaeologists to carefully remove the layers without destroying the initial insight. It was, after all, about the future, about hope -- cosmic and otherwise. Lots of us call it salvation, and tonight or tomorrow, when many of us cross the church threshold (some for our biennial visit, others for the second time this week), we will hear the ancient story of the incarnate One and be told it was the day we were saved.

Which has, of late, got me to wondering.

What for?

And the best answer I can come up with is . . .

Tomorrow.

And so that's what Christmas is about for me. Tomorrow. All the endless tomorrows. With their hopes and dreams and disappointments. Their risings and fallings. And tears and laughter. Even on the day I die, when tomorrow will be unpredictably exciting. In fact, especially then.

A friend recommended a book earlier this year by a theologian named John Haught. In it, Haught talked about the need to square Christian theology with the fact of evolution. One point he made is that theology should never compete with science, that the truths of the latter are not to be denied by the former, and vice versa. So the earth and all its inhabitants weren't created in six days, the universe (or multi-verse, we really do not know) is billions of years old, the human story represents hardly a nanosecond in this evolutionary time line, and the possibility of intelligent life in spheres beyond our third rock from the sun is hardly remote. The one thing certain is that, whoever and whatever we and our world are, it will not be the same tomorrow.

In fact, in the deep time of our evolutionary tomorrow, it's gonna be very different.

Which brings me back to Christmas. Or more precisely Christmas Eve. The one day when we think about nothing but tomorrow. And really look forward to it.

I am ready this year. All the presents are wrapped. The house is clean (I vacuum). Charles Darwin and Jesus Christ have become bosom buddies in my mind, the former telling me that nothing is forever as the world and its inhabitants constantly morph into newer forms, the latter teaching me that this in itself is a good thing and that somewhere over this evolutionary rainbow there is still a tomorrow that embraces us all.

And I have a shovel ready.

In case Rudolph leaves something in the driveway besides a missing sleigh bell.

Merry Christmas.

(This post was first published on Christmas Eve 2008.  A lot has changed since then. But not my view of Christmas.)

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

THE BIG DOG CAN STILL BARK

THE BIG DOG CAN STILL BARK

So, there I was on Saturday, walking into my favorite independent bookstore in Pleasantville, NY.

And there he was at the check out counter,  buying a hundred bucks worth of books and . . .

Holding forth.

This was surprising at two levels.  On the one hand, it's not very often that you run into  Bill Clinton dressed down for a lazy Saturday afternoon sauntering about the local bookstore.  And on the other, given that we know the soon-to-be President doesn't even read books, I'm certain I will never run into Trump in that bookstore . . .

Or any other.

Bill Clinton is approachable.  And he is smart.  And he likes to chat.

So for about forty-five minutes that day, a group of us -- maybe a dozen or so in number -- did that.

Here's what he said.

(Caveat emptor -- I wasn't taking notes and nothing that follows is a quote (unless it is). It's my memory, now three days old, of the basic sense of what was said.)

Why did Hillary lose?

My take on his take is that there were basically three reasons -- Comey, a media that ignored policy in favor of emails, and the larger problem that we now live in a "fact free" world.  

Comey violated Justice Department policy when he announced ten days out that the FBI was looking at new evidence on the email front. And he set a dangerous precedent.  Clinton thinks that mattered big time. People believe the FBI plays it straight.  So when they don't, it hurts. And that, Clinton thinks, is why Hillary didn't do as well as she should have in the Philadelphia suburbs, especially with women, or in Michigan and Wisconsin and Florida and Ohio.  

It's also something we all need to worry about going forward.

Because the day law enforcement stops being politically neutral is the day we start down the slippery slope to illegitimacy.

I agree.  

On both counts.

Ten days out, Hillary was seven points up in the polls and poised to go positive.  In other words, instead of telling us why Trump shouldn't win, she was going all in on why she should.  Her policy menu -- which so many said sounds canned but in fact is real and do-able -- would have been manna from heaven in that last week. 

Because increasing the minimum wage, making college affordable, expanding health care and forcing hedge funds and the mega-rich to pay taxes would have spoken to exactly the concerns all those struggling members of the middle and lower middle class claim went unnoticed.  

Comey upended all of that.  Instead of being able to tell us what she would do, her numbers tanked and the only remedy was to remind voters of how bad Trump was.  Most of us got that message and voted for her. 

About a hundred thousand strategically placed fellow citizens did not.

The larger problem, and President Clinton spoke on Saturday to this as well, was that the whole email issue was made entirely too much of.  As Clinton put it, the issue was a "nothin' burger."  Hillary's use of a non-state.gov email was the same thing two of her predecessors -- both Republicans -- had done, and no one ever complained.  She also didn't imperil national security.  Indeed, some of the after-the-fact "classified" material turns out to have been  attachments of articles from the New York Times, and the rest seems mostly to have been more or less a matter of agencies -- and some politicized Inspectors-General in those agencies -- protecting their own turf vis a vis their perceived competitors. In short, it was more about bureaucratic in-fighting than anything else.

So why did it matter?

Here, I think, was Clinton's largest point of the day, one that counts far beyond its effects on a single election.  We now live, says the President, in a "fact free" world.  People read fake news.  Media outlets report it. Would be candidates can now thrive on it.  

This is what Trump did. 

His lies never mattered because facts no longer matter.   It's a pretty basic point.  If facts don't exist ... or can be made to not exist . . . or are so malleable that they may as well not exist . . .

The first casualty is truth.

You can, as Casey Stengel would say (this part is me, not Bill Clinton), look it up.

The dictionary says a  lie is a false statement of fact.  If there are no facts, there can be no lies.

At the same time, the media-- easily played by the endless charge of "liberal" bias-- often ignore lies in their ostensible search for balance, which largely means reporting something bad about one candidate if you report something bad about the other one. 

Trump relied on this as well.  His reported negatives, which were endless and easy to ignore given their sheer volume, always had to be served up with one of hers, and since she had so few, the email "nothin' burger" became the media's go to staple. 

The media do not work this way because they favor one or the other political party.  

They work this way because a close election is an inherent part of their business plan.  

Or, as the President more or less put it, they aren't interested in a blow out. 

That's also why there was so little coverage (32 minutes as it turns out) of policy by the three major networks during the campaign, and why Hillary-as-wonk got so little traction.  A politician who talks about policy and getting issues resolved is boring.

A politician who curses is not.

Where to from here?

Clinton is careful.  And, despite the current cultural fad, he won't speculate or make judgments that extend beyond the facts. 

Thus . . .

Whether the Democrats should oppose all the extreme right wingers making their way into Trump's cabinet, or just pick a couple and focus their energies, he won't say.  He doesn't know all the people and won't speculate.  Whether the Democrats are ready to do battle, he also won't say.  In his opinion, the Senate's new minority leader, Chuck Schumer,  thinks he, Schumer, can negotiate with Trump because he knows Trump.  Clinton does not appear convinced.

The real push-back, Clinton thinks, could come in the courts.  

He believes there may be numerous legal challenges to the new Administration, especially if it goes the fact-free route on policy.  He also believes there are many judges more than up to the task of keeping Trump honest.

The other real push back could come from Republicans.  In fact, Clinton thinks the two most important Senators these days are Republicans Lindsey Graham and John McCain.  Neither likes Trump and both have standing among their fellow Senators.

On policy, he's not entirely anti-Trump.  Infrastructure was a big piece of Trump's campaign.  The Trump approach is to get private equity to pay for it.  If that happened, it would amount to a two-for. The roads, bridges, airports, railroads and broadband would be re-built, but the deficit wouldn't go up. So Clinton understands why Trump wants to do it this way, and thinks it's not entirely a bad approach.  In other words, it can work in some places.  The only problem, and the President pointed this out as well, is that it won't create new infrastructure in rural communities or in sparsely populated ones because the projects can't be monetized in those areas. Meanwhile, we'd be fools not to go all in here, especially on improved broadband, which creates enormous economic growth.

On jobs, his eyes rolled when the Carrier deal was mentioned.  He negotiated deals like that "every month" while he was Governor of Arkansas.  The real key is to get the economy zooming.  He thinks we are on the cusp, but I did not get the impression he thought GOP trickle down would provide the energy to push us over the edge.  It certainly hasn't in the past.

As he was leaving and half way out the door, one of our group shouted out that he should stay involved.  He turned back with a last piece of advice -- "You stay involved, that's what's necessary." Among those 65 million plus who voted for Hillary on November 8, that's a big ask.  Most of us are still in shock.

And, frankly, pessimistic.

But not Bill Clinton.

He still does believe . . .

In a place called Hope.

Monday, December 5, 2016

MR. SECRETARY

MR. SECRETARY

I'm running for Secretary of State.  

I'm not qualified.  But Trump isn't qualified to be President and Rudy isn't qualified to be Secretary of State.

So let's not get picky.  

I understand one does not usually "campaign" for an appointive Cabinet position.  But I have also noticed that all of the cable news stations have been breathlessly reporting on who the "front runners" are for State.

And Trump himself keeps parading his potential nominees before the cameras, their hats in hand as His Hairness assumes the throne and gives his thumbs up.

So it looks like a campaign.  

Plus, there have been no exhaustive analyses of each "candidate's" positions .  Just the de riguer ten seconds where the stand ups outside Tower of Trump -- or the golf course -- tell us whether so and so supported Trump or hates him. 

So not only does it look like a campaign.

It also looks like a Trump campaign. 

I have analyzed all the candidates and am pretty certain I can beat them.

First, like Rudy, I have foreign policy experience.  Rudy's comes from walking north on Church Street in New York City  on 9/11 after the towers fell.  I too walked that day, in New York City, north from near my office downtown to Grand Central Station to go home after the towers fell.  

It wasn't on Church Street.  

It was on Broadway.  

But they are parallel.

Rudy claims he has security experience, also because of 9/11.  Far as I can tell, however, his only experience was locating the City's Office of Emergency Management in Tower 7 over the objections of security experts who knew  the site was a terrorist  target on account of the fact that it already had been.

So, Rudy's security experience is more or less of the boneheaded variety.

Me too.

Before my walk on 9/11, I made the foolish decision to actually take the subway downtown knowing at least one tower had been attacked. The train stopped between Brooklyn Bridge and Fulton Street for over a half hour, and then reversed itself back to Brooklyn Bridge. When I left the station, the gray ball was moving toward me as hundreds of people ran away from it. 

Anyway, the Judge I once worked for called me his "stupidest law clerk on 9/11" on account of that decision.

Yeah, sure, Your Honor.  

But I bet you never thought I'd be competing against Rudy for State.

Second, like Mitt Romney and Jon Huntsman and Robert Gates, three other mentionees, I can't stand Trump.  I criticized him non-stop during the Presidential campaign.  Thought he was a con, charlatan, totally unqualified to be Commander in Chief.  Of the ten blogposts I wrote about the campaign, all of them went negative on Trump. 

Like Gates, I also voted for Hillary.  

Romney and Huntsman probably left the ballot blank or wrote in some other Republicans.

What chickens!

Third, like General Petraeus, I have made mistakes and learned from them.  True, my mistakes have not involved criminal violations of the Espionage Act.  But I am younger than Petraeus and was a Hillary supporter.  So once at State, who knows what trouble I can get myself into.  I mean, according to Trump, Hillary out-Petraeused Petraeus.

Fourth, I know more people from Taiwan than PEOTUS.  

While I'm on the subject, as we all know, PEOTUS is an acronym that stands for President-elect of the United States.  It's a take-off on POTUS, the acronym for President of the United States.  Anyway, how is PEOTUS pronounced?  Is it "Pee-oh-tus"?  If so, that sounds mildly obscene.  

Which, in this unique case, is perfectly appropriate.

Anyway, back to Taiwan.

Pee-oh-tus should know that I know lots more Taiwanese than he does.  It looks to me like he knows one -- the President of Taiwan. He says she called him yesterday to congratulate him, a call that has now caused quite a kerfluffle.  Everyone at Foggy Bottom is worried that Trump is flying blind and has no idea how upset this makes the other Chinese, you know, the ones with nukes.

I can help here.  I know at least a dozen  Taiwanese.  For ten years I worked with a Taiwanese lawyer and represented Taiwanese clients. And they're probably people Beijing won't mind Trump talking to.

Also,  just so you know Donald, I've never been to China. And haven't borrowed any money from the Bank of China.

Never even used one of their ATMs.

Finally, I have met John Bolton and Kellyanne Conway.  They were both at a dinner I em-ceed honoring that Judge I worked for, who is friends with Bolton and once hired Conway's husband. 

I am certain they laughed at all my jokes that night. 

So, whaddaya say Mr. Pee-oh-tus?

Did I mention I grew up on the streets of Brooklyn . . .

Before Hillary ruined them.