An Inauguration Memory

Memories keep the wolf of insignificance from the door. 

— Saul Bellow

A vivid personal memory: K Street on a bitter-cold January evening; a driving snowstorm dims the streetlights; no sounds but the wind and the murmuring pinkish sky; a column of long black limousines silently snakes by, bound for the White House or some nearby hotel. I was working late at a video studio, editing a show my client needed in the morning; I had stepped outside to smoke a cigarette. It was 1985.

Ronald Reagan's second inauguration was history's coldest. The temperature that morning was 4° below zero, the wind-chill, 20° below. Reagan delivered his speech inside the Capitol Rotunda, before an audience of Congressmen; no crowds gathered outside, for fear of getting frostbite. 

The parade down Pennsylvania Avenue was also cancelled, the president saying, "the health and safety of those attending and working at the event must come before any celebration;" but in truth it was Reagan's health and safety that were in jeopardy.

His advisors had reminded the 74-year-old Reagan—America's oldest president—of William Henry Harrison's 1841 inauguration. On that day, Harrison spent five hours standing on the Capitol steps in a freezing rain. The event left Harrison with a nasty head cold; and 30 days later, he died of pneumonia.

Reagan's inaugural committee had given away 140,000 tickets to the swearing-in and sold 25,000 tickets to the parade. None of them was used.

When asked by reporters at a photo shoot what would be different about his second term, Reagan replied, “Well, I hope it will be warmer.”

Comeuppance

An epoch is but a swing of the pendulum.

— George Bernard Shaw

That momentous sound you hear is history's escapement as the pendulum swings back toward economic justice. I didn't think I'd live long enough to hear it. I'm glad I did.

Ninety years ago, the GOP—the party of the rich—handed FDR an economy in ruins. But by restraining the rich, FDR turned that economy around, rebuilding it on the basis of the New Deal and the nation's mobilization against fascism.

The New Deal epoch endured through seven more administrations—those of Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Ford and Carter—until Reagan reversed the pendulum. 

Reagan and the GOP ultimately ruined the economy again, in the process awarding trillions of dollars to one of every ten Americans, while driving two of every ten into poverty. 

It took five more administrations—those of Bush, Clinton, Bush, Obama and Trump—to end Reagan's epoch; but, clearly, it's over. Trump made that certain.

Americans need good government—and to again deal the rich their comeuppance.

Vaccine against Fake-Believe

Typically, conservatives stand in the way of economic recoveries. 

This time round, antivaxxers do.

Unless at least 85% of Americans are vaccinated against Covid-19, a rebound remains out of reach, according to Anthony Fauci.

But most Americans will never get the jab, if antivaxxers have their way.

Like those of the QAnon followers, antivaxxers' kooky beliefs rest on conspiracy theories: Covid-19 is a Democrat hoax; a Chinese weapon; a 5G side effect; a "plandemic" hatched by Bill Gates; a Commie plot to insert tracking devices in our arms; an evil inventor's dastardly scheme to control our thoughts.

Fortunately such nonsense is assailable, says Cambridge psychologist Sander van der Linden, through a method he calls prebunking.

Prebunking works like a vaccine against disinformation.

Because it's so "sticky"—able to overshadow real news—disinformation can't be debunked, van der Linden says; the only cure is to prebunk it with a strong dose of reality.

Van der Linden's fake-believe "vaccine" comes in the form of a warning. 

Through behavioral studies, the psychologist found that when believers of disinformation are informed they're being manipulated, they tend to question, if not reject, false claims, and become less willing to share them.

Much like a stop light, van der Linden's vaccine works because the warning ("You're being manipulated!") interrupts our processing of news—which is unconscious—and forces us to slow down. 

At slower speeds, we no longer accept news at face value. Our brainwaves, as it were, become disinformation-resistant.

An effective way to warn conspiracy-theory believers they're being manipulated, van der Linden adds, is to acknowledge actual conspiracies in history.

Reminding or informing them, for example, that Richard Nixon once duped the whole country suggests that they, too, can be deceived by wrong-doers.

How Can They Believe This Crap? Episode IV

Fourth in a series wondering why Trump still has adherents

In Episode I, I suggested Trump's supporters have been brainwashed by their betters; in Episode II, that they simply find him entertaining; and in Episode III, that they sympathize with him.

A fourth theory occurs to me: Trump's supporters don't believe his crap. They merely tolerate it.

What they believe are the century-old tenets of the GOP: low taxes, corporatism, and a strong state.

Trump's just a useful idiot.

How Can They Believe This Crap? Episode II

Second in a series wondering why Trump still has adherents

In Episode I, I suggested Trump's supporters have been brainwashed by their betters.

But another theory occurs to me: Trump's supporters think he's funny.

With the cancellation of The Apprentice, the Reality TV star has taken on a new role—that of the clownish "know nothing" Sergeant Shultz, the laugh-a-minute prison guard in CBS-TV's Hogan's Heroes.

Harold Livera, a high-school classmate of mine, once told me a story about his dad, who'd been a POW in a German stalag during WWII.

It seems the guards in the prison camp amused themselves one morning by knocking Harold's dad to the ground and kicking him in the stomach repeatedly. 

The beating caused such damage to his body that Harold's dad still suffered from his injuries in 1967.

Harold's dad was outraged that Hogan's Heroes was on the air. By turning a blind eye to Nazism, fans of the show gave permission to CBS to turn atrocity into comedy.

Trump gives his fans that same permission. His antics distract them from evil.

While his henchmen perpetrate crimes that result in thefts of the Treasury, destruction of the environment, the imprisonment of children, and the deaths of 400,000 Americans, his followers forgive Trump—because he's hilarious.

Trump can act with impunity because he's so freakin' funny.

What's the matter? You're not laughing?

NOTE: If you notice a physical resemblance between Shultz and Trump, just tell yourself, "I see nothing. Nothing!"

Don't miss Episode III.