King of America

It was almost a generation ago that the Electoral College met for the last time.

Who among us, I wonder, can recall learning about that venerable institution and the important role it once played in determining the future of our country?

From a young age, we were drilled on “...of the people, by the people and for the people...,” and yet it seemed like it was every four years there was new outrage about the College and about why the people could never be trusted to make such an important decision.

That all changed under the Protectorate of Donald Trump--peace be upon him.

Like a lost puppy wandering in the woods on a stormy night, Protector Trump found us when we were at our most vulnerable.

Those of us old enough to remember, will recall the many millions too afraid even to go outside, to meet our neighbors and learn their names, or to go to City Hall and find out for ourselves just what was going on.

Instead, we clung to the security of our warm blankets and the calming flicker of our televisions—that was our way of learning of the world before the advent of the wonderful Speaking Trumpet that lets us in on the real truth, the fantastic truth of how the world works, how great we are and the mysterious lands outside of our walls full of people who want only to take what we have.

I won't presume to speak for the rest of you, but for myself, I find the Protector's words--peace be upon him--reassuring and I often find myself falling to sleep listening to the now-familiar adventures of the Protector's--peace be upon him--many children as they journied outside our walls and do battle with the Outsiders, make them bend to our will and then return with many great and mysterious treasures.

Those of us old enough to remember "school" might have learned about similar journeys, in the early days of the World, where mysterious creatures called Vikings and Italians traveled the World and returned with stories of new lands and boats full of the greatest treasures. Thanks to the efforts of the Protector--peace be upon him--the younger in our midst, need not bother with these now-forbidden stories, they can, instead, visit one of the many Treasure Houses of the Protector--peace be upon him--where these same treasures are on display for all to see.

Yes, we have prospered and are once again a great nation, but this is due to the work of the Protector--peace be upon him. Able as we are to learn directly from Him and His vast experience, we have come to a new Enlightenment, a new understanding about opportunities as individuals and the privilege of self-determination.

We have come to understand the folly of our fathers and forefathers. We have seen that our prosperity, our greatness, had been held back by the so-called “checks and balances” that our ancestors so foolishly embraced.

Ever the humble man, the Protector--peace be upon him--patiently labored until everyone understood that we no longer needed “representatives” to act on our behalf. It was in the first days of the Protectorate that the “Expell to Excel” initiative helped us to see that we were paying a terrible price for a “government” that was, like so many other handmaidens of “democracy”, utterly corrupt and irreparably broken.

I don't know about the rest of you, but I was fortunate that my parents were able to leave me their copy of Lord Protector Trump's book--peace be upon him--in which he patiently taught us that "advise and consent" were paternalistic and the refuge of demagogues; that we could decide anything we wanted, that consensus was weakness.

And once we, as a country, made that breakthrough: that reality was ours for the making then a great many things became clear very quickly. The people were at last able to see the institutions of government for what they were: colossal vacuums of time and treasure, geared more toward self-preservation than leading the nation.

Remarkably, it was Congress itself—for that is what we called our “leaders”--that voted to go permanently out of session; few of its members wanting to risk violating their policy by inadvertently setting policy

This truly has been a remarkable period in the history of our remarkable country and one we could not have envisioned during those dark days when the country was constantly raising and spending money to antagonize itself.

Those days are over and it is now time to help our country to take the last step into a new and brighter future, one where we can finally let go of the last vestiges of the crushing bureaucracy, the yoke of regulation, the burden of responsibility.

We can now complete that journey to the land of Again Great that Lord Protector Trump--peace be upon him--spoke about those many years ago. Like Rosa Parks and those famous Freedom Riders, we can finally board that bus, sit wherever we want and leave the driving to someone else.

As we gather tonight, we can be “secure in our guts,” as the Lord Protector used to say--peace be upon him, that even this important step is part of the Design for Excellence that He drew up long ago.

Even as we sat anxiously while He was fighting wars on many fronts, and battling the disease that was ultimately to claim Him, our Lord Protector--peace be upon him--was, as He always would do, put the needs of the moment in front of the needs of the many.

In His infinite wisdom, He foresaw a day when we could no longer count on Him to lead us, to protect us and so, with Death at hand, the Lord Protector--peace be upon him--decreed that it was in the best interests of us all that he continue to carry on His work through his heirs. Just before He left us, He named His son Donald to carry on and guide us into the future.

Since the beginning of what the Lord Protector--peace be upon him--referred to as the “Pre-Regnum,” Donald was studying at his father's knee and learning how to make all of us great again by himself becoming a great person.

Donald Trump, Lord Protector of our neo-great nation—peace be upon Him—has left us; but He has left us in the hands of Donald the Great who will be henceforth known as “The Monarch of Greatness.”

Though we first took Him into our hearts—He and His brothers and sister—as “Donald Junior,” or “Donald II,” he has been no mere sequel, no half-baked follow-up to what we know to have been our fully-baked Lord Protector--peace be upon him.

Donald the Great—shortly to address you all via the Speaking Trumpet—is ready to drive the bus that is our country forward into and even greater future.

And have no fear, ladies and gentlemen, while He may have been born a “second, ” Donald the Great is but the first of His family that is ready to lead us. Lord Protector Trump—peace be with him—has offered his family as the ones to make the ultimate sacrifice and lead us into tomorrow: a tomorrow that looks remarkably like a past that we do not remember, but have heard wonderful stories about, so we are sure that it must have been great.

Ladies and gentlemen, the next voice you hear will be that of King Donald the Great.

Uncrossable Barrier

Not so long ago, they made a movie about Phillippe Petit, the man who walked a tightrope between the Twin Towers, yes those towers.

Robert Zemeckis, the man who brought you “Back to the Future” and “The Polar Express” takes his camera out on to the wire with Petit as he steps from the safety of the building and onto the hastily-rigged wire.

You see the rigid wire, Petit's delicate wire walking shoes and, more than twelve hundred feet in the background, the inevitable and unforgiving consequences of even the smallest error.

It's early in the morning when they newly-arrived daylight has the kind of mauvey quality of a faded tattoo.

There is a steady rush of air through the artificial canyon of the towers and it is making the wire sing, it sounds kind of like a comb wrapped in wax paper being pulled apart by a pair of fishing lines.

Every step takes you further into the wind, away from safety and toward an uncertain future.

Sure, you've been doing this a long time. You are comfortable on the wire, you know what to do.

But still....

I mean you'd have to be crazy not to think about what could go wrong.

Every time the wire makes a random grown or twang, your thoughts go immediately to the possibility of metal fatigue. Could the wire somehow have gotten kinked as it was hauled over to the other tower?

No.

Impossible.

And yet, it groans again and you are reviewing your situation.

I didn't see the movie. The trailer was enough for me.

I have an issue with heights.

I was thinking about Petit today as the news from Dallas unfolded.

He trained for that walk, he knew all the risks and yet he did it anyway. Every step forward decreased his odds of survival and yet on he went.

Speaking in a completely different context, comedian Patton Oswalt had a great line about how “your worst nightmare was somebody else's regular fucking job.”

It is still early going and so speculation about the gunman in the parking structure is premature, but I think it's reasonable to suggest that each of the officers involved in the incident was having their own conflict about being “out on the wire” last night.

But they went anyway.

It is equally unfair to speculate, or generalize, about their thoughts and motivations. Though many in number they were each on their own wire, battling their own wind, listening to the wire sing and watching the far-off inevitability.

It should also be noted that there were other people taking risks last night. Fully aware that their actions were challenging their safety and perhaps even their freedom, the protestors who assembled in downtown Dallas to register their complaints about the deaths of two men of color earlier in the week stepped off their building and son to their wire.

But it was supposed to be a peaceful protest, an expression of concern and a registration of complaint, why would the protestors be fearful?

Again, it is irresponsible to attribute motive to any group or individual, but it is reasonable to infer that in a time steeped in fear and mistrust of the “other”--policeman or civilian, majority or minority, immigrant or native—that calling out your opposite for wrongdoing is make yourself a target.

To call into question the procedures and actions of a single police officer is to question all of them. To suggest that racial bias may have been at the root of the use of deadly force in apparently innocuous situations is to challenge every officer and call every decision into question.  

And that, in and of itself, is not safe.

Like worrying about the wire beneath your feet, you can paralyze yourself and make forward movement impossible.

It is equally true that if you are not constantly adapting your technique to changing conditions, the you are just as likely to fall.

If the police, or any other group, assume that assumptions about circumstances and those who live in them are not subject to change without notice, then they can also have the wire swept out from under them.

Rightly or wrongly, police are trained to prepare for every situation to go sideways at any time. This is necessary for them to control their surroundings and protect themselves. This is why police are likely to handcuff someone, or place them in the back of their patrol cars, until they can properly assess the situation.

If, as a passerby, you came across a situation where a member of the public is being wrestled into a patrol car, what would you think?

A hardened criminal?

An escaped mental patient?

If that person being put in the patrol car is a person of color, would that change your perception of the situation?

Because this conversation has been going on for so long in this country; because we have as part of our folklore that terrible things can happen to those who are “other” under cover of authority, we find ourselves once again at a fork in the road.

Depending on who you choose to listen to we should either retire to our collective group of identification—community, ethnic group, race, religion, gender identity...--or we should seek to better understand one another in an effort to avoid further misunderstanding.

To stay in the safety of self-identification is to never leave the tower, to never challenge, to never overcome. To be forever separated by a seemingly immense and uncrossable barrier.

The real question is this:  if, knowing everything that you know about the wind and the wire and the law of gravity, you are still able to summon your courage and step on to the wire and you discover someone else on the wire is coming toward you, what would you do?

Seems to me there are only two choices:  you try to knock the other person off the wire, or one of you turns around and leads the way back to their tower. 

In this situation, turning back is not failure.  You have still done something incredible by just stepping on to that wire. 

You have mastered your fear.

And, you have cleared the path for a visitor to learn about you world, your tower.

To step on the wire is to risk, to overcome, to transcend.

Among his many talents, Petit is also a magician and it is in that context that I heard him give an interview. He talked about bullfighting.

He trained with the bullfighters in Spain and he said he learned an important lesson.

When the bull charges into the ring, he quickly identifies an area where he feels safe. It might be for any reason: smell, view, exhaustion.

For whatever reason that is his base.

The job of the matador is to first lure the bull from his “base,” and then to block his return. In this way the crowd gets a bull charging at the matador.

The bull is brought down simply for trying to get home.

Isn't there something familiar about that kind of story?

It is perhaps far too late in the game to hope that we could avoid more weeks like this one. And, perhaps, like most things, it ultimately comes down to money and power—who has it and who gets to keep it—but I can't help thinking that far fewer people (and bulls) would die if we stopped trying to control every aspect of our surroundings and just focused on the fundamentals: keep your head down, focus on the wire and keep putting one foot in front of the other..., oh and try to stay out of the way.