Thursday, September 1, 2011
One difference between Republicans and Democrats
Republicans pretty much admit that they grasp and even endorse some of the nastiest facts of life in America. Republicans honestly tell the world: "listen in on my phone calls, piss-test me until I'm blind, kill and eat all of my neighbors right in front of my eyes, but show me the money! Let me escape with every cent I can kick out of the suckers, the taxpayers, and anybody else I can get a headlock on, legally or otherwise."
The Incomprable Dave Somersby Latches on to Something Important
Special report: Imagine all the people!
PART 1—HE COULDN’T IMAGINE MCCORMACK (permalink):
We humans tend to get in trouble when we imagine all the people—more precisely, when we try to imagine what “those people” in the other tribe must be like.
Consider what happened when Jon Fasman tried to imagine what those tea party people are like.
Fasman engaged in his large-scale musing for the Economist. As he started, he acknowledged that conservatives don’t have to be slobbering racists. He even noted one of Ed Schultz’s latest racism-pimping blunders, an absurd group attack for which Big Ed apologized the next night. Still and all, Fasman just couldn’t help wondering: What the heck are those people like?
What do those people think and feel? Pondering forty million people, Fasman imagined them thusly:
FASMAN (8/23/11): Nostalgia for mid-century America and racism are not synonymous. But what exactly do these voters want? Do older white conservatives miss the high taxes and powerful unions of mid-century America? Dismissing Soviet power is easy today; then it was not. The threat of global nuclear war was real. Would they prefer a nuclear-armed foe that controls much of Europe? Like Matthew Yglesias, I also find it hard not to think that when older white conservatives lament the loss of "the America they grew up in", they are lamenting the loss of their own social privilege. It's true that America today is in some ways profoundly different from the one into which John Boehner was born in 1949. And I am willing to concede that life may well have been better for Mr Boehner, and for many other white, Christian heterosexual Americans back then (although I wonder what chance a 60-year-old Catholic son of a bartender from Reading, Ohio would have had at becoming Speaker of the House in 1949). Quotas kept immigration from Asia, Latin America and Africa low, and of course blacks, Jews, Catholics, women and gays knew their place. Is that what older white conservatives miss? And if not, what, exactly, do they want their politicians to "champion"?
Frankly, Fasman was puzzled. He wondered about what “these voters” want—but instead of attempting to ask some voters, he simply began to imagine. He found one possibility “hard not to think;” soon he was imagining the worst about those people. (Do they want to keep blacks, Jews, Catholics, women and gays in their place?) But by the time his rumination was through, he was still deeply puzzled:
“If not, what, exactly, do they want their politicians to ‘champion?’ ”
Fasman had tried to imagine all the people. It seemed that he had struck out.
Alas! When we start imagining things, we tend to get in trouble. Just consider one of the things Fasman couldn’t seem to imagine. Magnanimously, Fasman was willing to concede that life may well have been better for John Boehner, and for many other white, Christian heterosexual Americans, back in 1949. (Boehner was a newborn then, but you get the idea.) At the same time, he “wondered what chance a 60-year-old Catholic son of a bartender from Reading, Ohio would have had at becoming Speaker of the House” in that benighted year.
Fasman knew that the American people were slobbering racists back then. He also seemed to imagine that they would never have tolerated a Catholic son of the working class in a position of high respect. Fasman was imagining grandly know, stroking his inner thigh as he did.
Here at THE HOWLER, we looked up the bio of Boston’s own, Speaker John McCormack. It’s true—McCormack didn’t become speaker of the House until 1962. But he was House majority leader as early as 1940, and this is the way Wikipedia describes his religion and class background:
WIKIPEDIA: McCormack was born to Joseph H. McCormack, a hod carrier, and Ellen (n�e O'Brien) McCormack. His parents were both the children of Irish immigrants who had arrived during the Irish potato famine in 1848. There were 12 children, of whom three survived to adulthood. McCormack was 13 when his father died; he quit school after the eighth grade to help support his widowed mother and family as a $3-a-week errand boy for a brokerage firm. His career began when he shifted to a law firm for a 50-cent raise and studied law on the side. Attending law school at night, he passed the Massachusetts bar exam in 1913 at age 21 without having completed high school.
[…]
In 1920, McCormack married Harriet Joyce, a former singer; the couple had no children. While Congress was in session, they lived at the Washington Hotel. Their devotion to each other was legendary; it was said that they never spent a night apart until she died. If the Speaker was kept late on business, his wife always went up to have dinner with him. She died in December 1971, aged 87. For more than a year, he had spent every night in an adjoining hospital room. He then went home to Boston the following month, after his retirement.
McCormack had few hobbies except politics. In earlier days, he was known as a good high stakes poker player. He had never flown in an airplane until 1961, when he attended Rayburn's funeral. He drove the 450 miles from Washington to Boston or went up on the night sleeper train.
The Speaker and his wife were devout Roman Catholics. Both were honored by the Vatican. He was the first Catholic to be elected Speaker, and some critics complained that this religion sometimes showed in his leadership qualities. An example cited was the 1961 school aid debacle when McCormack insisted that church schools should share in a federal aid program. The bill died on this issue. But in 1963 McCormack helped push through the largest education program in history, much of which went to public institutions only.
For the record, those “12 children, of whom three survived to adulthood,” were in fact McCormack and his siblings. According to newspaper reports at the time he died, McCormack was one of twelve kids, three of whom survived.
Is there some distinction we’re missing here? As Fasman imagined the world of the past, it seems he couldn’t imagine McCormack. But then, when we let ourselves start to imagine, we often find ourselves painting pictures which don’t correspond to real life.
Kevin Drum took a bit of offense to Fasman’s post (just click here). We agree with the basic thrust of Drum’s reaction, though we thought he took a few liberties too, doing a bit of imagining. But so it goes when we, The Good and True Tribe, decide to imagine all the people, forty million at a time.
What are “those people” actually like? Bigots have always been able to imagine the answer, down through the annals of time.
Tomorrow: Kevin’s reaction
PART 1—HE COULDN’T IMAGINE MCCORMACK (permalink):
We humans tend to get in trouble when we imagine all the people—more precisely, when we try to imagine what “those people” in the other tribe must be like.
Consider what happened when Jon Fasman tried to imagine what those tea party people are like.
Fasman engaged in his large-scale musing for the Economist. As he started, he acknowledged that conservatives don’t have to be slobbering racists. He even noted one of Ed Schultz’s latest racism-pimping blunders, an absurd group attack for which Big Ed apologized the next night. Still and all, Fasman just couldn’t help wondering: What the heck are those people like?
What do those people think and feel? Pondering forty million people, Fasman imagined them thusly:
FASMAN (8/23/11): Nostalgia for mid-century America and racism are not synonymous. But what exactly do these voters want? Do older white conservatives miss the high taxes and powerful unions of mid-century America? Dismissing Soviet power is easy today; then it was not. The threat of global nuclear war was real. Would they prefer a nuclear-armed foe that controls much of Europe? Like Matthew Yglesias, I also find it hard not to think that when older white conservatives lament the loss of "the America they grew up in", they are lamenting the loss of their own social privilege. It's true that America today is in some ways profoundly different from the one into which John Boehner was born in 1949. And I am willing to concede that life may well have been better for Mr Boehner, and for many other white, Christian heterosexual Americans back then (although I wonder what chance a 60-year-old Catholic son of a bartender from Reading, Ohio would have had at becoming Speaker of the House in 1949). Quotas kept immigration from Asia, Latin America and Africa low, and of course blacks, Jews, Catholics, women and gays knew their place. Is that what older white conservatives miss? And if not, what, exactly, do they want their politicians to "champion"?
Frankly, Fasman was puzzled. He wondered about what “these voters” want—but instead of attempting to ask some voters, he simply began to imagine. He found one possibility “hard not to think;” soon he was imagining the worst about those people. (Do they want to keep blacks, Jews, Catholics, women and gays in their place?) But by the time his rumination was through, he was still deeply puzzled:
“If not, what, exactly, do they want their politicians to ‘champion?’ ”
Fasman had tried to imagine all the people. It seemed that he had struck out.
Alas! When we start imagining things, we tend to get in trouble. Just consider one of the things Fasman couldn’t seem to imagine. Magnanimously, Fasman was willing to concede that life may well have been better for John Boehner, and for many other white, Christian heterosexual Americans, back in 1949. (Boehner was a newborn then, but you get the idea.) At the same time, he “wondered what chance a 60-year-old Catholic son of a bartender from Reading, Ohio would have had at becoming Speaker of the House” in that benighted year.
Fasman knew that the American people were slobbering racists back then. He also seemed to imagine that they would never have tolerated a Catholic son of the working class in a position of high respect. Fasman was imagining grandly know, stroking his inner thigh as he did.
Here at THE HOWLER, we looked up the bio of Boston’s own, Speaker John McCormack. It’s true—McCormack didn’t become speaker of the House until 1962. But he was House majority leader as early as 1940, and this is the way Wikipedia describes his religion and class background:
WIKIPEDIA: McCormack was born to Joseph H. McCormack, a hod carrier, and Ellen (n�e O'Brien) McCormack. His parents were both the children of Irish immigrants who had arrived during the Irish potato famine in 1848. There were 12 children, of whom three survived to adulthood. McCormack was 13 when his father died; he quit school after the eighth grade to help support his widowed mother and family as a $3-a-week errand boy for a brokerage firm. His career began when he shifted to a law firm for a 50-cent raise and studied law on the side. Attending law school at night, he passed the Massachusetts bar exam in 1913 at age 21 without having completed high school.
[…]
In 1920, McCormack married Harriet Joyce, a former singer; the couple had no children. While Congress was in session, they lived at the Washington Hotel. Their devotion to each other was legendary; it was said that they never spent a night apart until she died. If the Speaker was kept late on business, his wife always went up to have dinner with him. She died in December 1971, aged 87. For more than a year, he had spent every night in an adjoining hospital room. He then went home to Boston the following month, after his retirement.
McCormack had few hobbies except politics. In earlier days, he was known as a good high stakes poker player. He had never flown in an airplane until 1961, when he attended Rayburn's funeral. He drove the 450 miles from Washington to Boston or went up on the night sleeper train.
The Speaker and his wife were devout Roman Catholics. Both were honored by the Vatican. He was the first Catholic to be elected Speaker, and some critics complained that this religion sometimes showed in his leadership qualities. An example cited was the 1961 school aid debacle when McCormack insisted that church schools should share in a federal aid program. The bill died on this issue. But in 1963 McCormack helped push through the largest education program in history, much of which went to public institutions only.
For the record, those “12 children, of whom three survived to adulthood,” were in fact McCormack and his siblings. According to newspaper reports at the time he died, McCormack was one of twelve kids, three of whom survived.
Is there some distinction we’re missing here? As Fasman imagined the world of the past, it seems he couldn’t imagine McCormack. But then, when we let ourselves start to imagine, we often find ourselves painting pictures which don’t correspond to real life.
Kevin Drum took a bit of offense to Fasman’s post (just click here). We agree with the basic thrust of Drum’s reaction, though we thought he took a few liberties too, doing a bit of imagining. But so it goes when we, The Good and True Tribe, decide to imagine all the people, forty million at a time.
What are “those people” actually like? Bigots have always been able to imagine the answer, down through the annals of time.
Tomorrow: Kevin’s reaction
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)