Where the Conversation Stops…

I haven’t written anything for a bit, mostly because the recent Republican attempts to overturn the election have me releasing a string of expletives that would make the little girl from the Exorcist cross herself. I figure, if your writing sounds like the sort of unhinged rant Lenny Bruce might utter after getting a crushed testicle, it’s probably a good idea to keep your mouth shut and your keyboard quiet.

That said, here’s my best shot at a self-restrained post…

I’ve spent the last four years trying to understand Trump voters. The accepted wisdom is that his election was borne out of misogyny and racism — a pretty decent theory, given that misogyny and racism (not to mention homophobia and a near-cultish hatred of abortion) are a big part of our national political character.

But that answer ignores some very real rage and frustration on the part of working class Americans. While the Republicans have taken the lead on undermining workers, the Democrats have done a crappy job of defending them against outsourcing, attacks on unions, erosion of the social safety net, and dozens of other things that have steadily made life more miserable for the average American. When the “blue wall” of traditionally Democratic industrial states crumbled, many Democrats asked why their working class allies deserted the party. What they should have been asking was why it took so long for these formerly-unionized, formerly-secure workers to jump ship when the party gave them so little reason to stick around.

It’s easy to see why Trump captured the attention of so many unemployed and underemployed voters. While Hillary Clinton positioned herself as a standard establishment Democrat, Trump pointed out that party leaders on both sides have done far too little for the average American. Yes, he was vague, dishonest, and had the sort of unhinged “plan” that you might expect from a drunken uncle after he’s had his first six pack and begins launching into his “If I was President” rant. But he was also a bold outsider who spoke directly to the American people about things that they could relate to. And let’s not forget that the same could be said of the President who preceded him.

So, yes, I can get why people voted for Trump in 2016, even though I considered that a terrible, tragic decision — roughly akin to hiring a guy with a jackhammer to fill your cavities because you have some problems with your dentist.

I have a harder time understanding why people voted for him this year. Then again, I live very much outside of the Republican news bubble and very much inside the New York City COVID bubble. Forget reelection — this Spring, as I heard the sirens tearing through my neighborhood, saw the refrigerated moving vans parked near area hospitals. and watched the ambulances massing in the park next door, I was wondering if Trump should be charged with genocide.

But part of the deal with democracy is that you have to respect the people’s right to vote for the candidate of their choice, no matter how much of a radioactive piece of shit he turns out to be. In the end, though, it didn’t matter — Biden won both the popular and Electoral College vote and that, as they say, was that.

Except it wasn’t.

Everyone knew that Trump would fight the outcome of the election, so when he started spreading lies upon lies and smearing shit on our democratic processes like a demonic toddler with a packed diaper and vaguely artistic leanings, nobody was all that surprised.

But what I can’t get is why anybody’s going along with it, much less the 126 Republican congressmen and 17 states attorneys general who have signed on to legal briefs calling for the destruction of millions of legally cast votes. These people made an oath to support and defend, to bear true faith and allegiance to the Constitution of the United States, but now they’re attacking one of our most vital constitutional rights and attempting to undermine faith in our country. This isn’t politics as usual — it’s sedition, and our elected representatives should goddamn well know better.

I have more sympathy for rank-and-file Republican voters who claim to believe that the election was stolen. I know exactly what it feels like to be desperately disappointed in an election, and to feel cheated out of a win. After November 2016, it took months before I could say the words “Electoral College” without first saying the word “fucking.”

But I also knew — then and now — that we don’t have a right to a President we like. In fact, if the 2016 election taught me anything, it’s that we don’t even have a right to a President who is remotely competent. We also don’t have a right to tear our country apart just because we don’t like how an election turned out.

Think about how this played out in 2016. The day after the election, as soon as it was apparent that Clinton had lost, she conceded, calling on her supporters to acknowledge the results of the election. “Donald Trump is going to be our president,” she said. “We owe him an open mind and a chance to lead.”

What she DIDN’T do was rage about Russian interference invalidating the vote, the undemocratic nature of the (fucking) Electoral College, or the fact that she won the popular vote by a handy margin. Instead, Clinton did what defeated candidates have always done — gracefully concede and go home. For the last four years, she’s mostly stayed out of the headlines — in fact, when her name comes up, it’s usually because Trump continues to attack her long after her political relevance has faded.

As for her former supporters, they didn’t try to take down the country. They didn’t attack churches. They didn’t argue that the election was fixed — except in the normal, quasi-legal way that Republicans fix elections, with gerrymandering, voting restrictions and poll closures. Instead, they voted, protested, sent money to their favorite politicians, made phone calls, pushed door bells, and pressured their Congressmen and Senators.

The point is, while they didn’t like the political outcome, they also didn’t abandon the political system. In fact, they engaged with it far more — a tactic that led to huge Democratic gains in the midterm elections and a new President in 2020.

And that’s where my sympathy for America’s election deniers ends. Just like all of us, they have a right to their disappointment. They have a right to protest, to engage, and to vote. They don’t, however, have a right to tear it all down because they’re disappointed or their feelings are hurt. They don’t have a right to stab people, burn church signs, and threaten the lives of election officials. They don’t get to flirt with civil war in the streets and on their phones. They don’t get to undermine a legal, honest election in the halls of Congress.

We can argue all day about politics and policy, and I will happily sign on for that. But when your political tantrums threaten the system that has served our country for over 230 years, the conversation is over.

I don’t know if Biden’s administration is going to go after Trump, his family, the Proud Boys, QAnon, and all the Senators and Congressmen making political hay by winking at sedition. But I hope it does. I hope it tracks down every sleazy backroom deal, every White House phone call to a gun-toting brownshirt, every conversation with Putin. I hope it goes after insider trading in the Senate and palm greasing in the Department of Education. I hope it uses words like “treason” and “sedition” and “corruption.” Because that’s what these things are — and when we normalize or dismiss them, we lay the groundwork for the end of our country.

When your kid throws a tantrum, you can talk, persuade, and cajole as long as possible. But part of being the adult in the room is knowing that you also can’t make bad behavior disappear by ignoring it. As every parent knows, sometimes you have to be the bad guy. We all know that Biden can be the sweet old Uncle Joe who calms things down. Now it’s time to find out if he has what it takes to be the stern parent that our political system desperately needs.