The Guardrail [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

It’s a windy day and the chimes are singing to us. The wind is from the west so the temperatures are rising. We opened the windows. It feels as if the house is breathing, taking in the fresh air before the temperatures drop and the doors and windows are sealed against the cold.

I know that we are breathing. Kerri said that there’s nothing like a ride in an ambulance to give you perspective. She thought of our children. She thought of me. “Nothing else mattered,” she said. Each breath we take includes a sigh of relief.

Life can change in an instant.

We walked the rim trail. We sat on the edge of the Grand Canyon. It’s an awesome thing – especially for someone who is afraid of heights as I am – to sit on the edge without any guardrails. Full exposure. To me, it feels as if the canyon is pulling me over the edge. It’s disorienting. Of course, it is not pulling me, I know. The feeling, the fear, comes from inside of me.

I heard a powerful statement this week. With the supreme court’s jaw-dropping ruling on presidential immunity, with the Project 2025 plan ready to replace civil servants with those who will swear an oath of loyalty to the dictator-wanna-be, with a cabinet of sycophants and loyalists, there is only one guardrail left between our democracy and our nation being pulled into the abyss of fascism. The maga-clan isn’t even trying to mask their hatred, their authoritarian intention; it was on full display in Madison Square Garden.

The GOP has dissolved into a puddle of cowardice. Fearing it will lose a dollar, the business community and much of the media have tucked their tail, dropped their collective spine and are playing hear-no-evil-see-no-evil.

We are in the ambulance, now. What world will we leave our children?

The guardrail is us. You and me. Our vote. I suppose that is as it should be. A “Government of the people. by the people, for the people…” – a democracy in crisis – should necessarily depend upon the people to deliver it from the hands of an autocrat.

We are and should be the guardrail against tyranny.

It only takes a minute to read the full text of The Gettysburg Address. Lincoln’s final thought in his very concise address are as relevant today as they were the day he dedicated The Soldier’s National Cemetery, November 19, 1863:

“—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. ~ Abraham Lincoln

It is our turn. We are the guardrail. We are the generation that will determine whether or not our nation, “…conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal…can long endure.”

Vote as if our democracy depends on it – because it does.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE GUARDRAIL

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Responsible Opposition [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Among the many things our city does well is the design and maintenance of the gardens in the parks. Colorful and well-tended, carefully planned beds of flowers. My favorite plots juxtapose vibrant, tender petals that surround sturdy broad red banana trees. The beauty found in opposition. Contrast.

Horatio said that he was worried for the democrats. “They have no responsible opposition,” he said. The operative word in his sentiment is “responsible.” As we all know, there is no lack of opposition yet the former GOP has lapsed into a low-bar, name-calling, opposition-for-opposition-sake; it stunts the growth for all involved. It’s the Achilles Heel of the red-hat-cult. When opposition is the end-goal there is no need for ideas or solutions, no service to a greater good, no vision for the future. There is no ethic. There is no lie-too-far to resurrect some made-up-past-glory-fantasy. Opposition-for-opposition sake has only one aim: to attain and keep power.

And then what?

Maintaining power-for-the-sake-of-power is a well-known path worn into history by the likes of Stalin and Hitler. Pol Pot. Mussolini. Putin. Kim Jung Un. The path ultimately – and always – leads to the killing fields. Absolute power is never a worthy or sustainable reason-for-governing and always, in the end, eats its own people. Opposition-for-the-sake-of-opposition, once in power, eliminates by any means all other points-of-view. It silences any voice of responsible opposition. Read Project 2025 for a step-by-step blueprint on how to reduce a two-party democratic republic into a single party authoritarian state.

A healthy two-party system – democracy – is designed to bring opposing ideas to the table for debate and discussion. The point is not opposition. The point is agreement. Compromise in service to the greater good. Checks and balances. The point, at its best, is like the gardens I so appreciate, vibrant juxtaposition, carefully planned and respectfully maintained.

Democracy is made beautiful through responsible opposition. It’s a two-party system. Democracy disappears without it.

Our garden needs tending, a task for which we are all responsible. Our garden already has a great plan. It’s called The Constitution. Opposition-for-the-sake-of-opposition is like an invasive weed. This red-hat-weed will not just go away. It’s our job – all of us – to act, to call it out, to vote, to make certain the weed is pulled for good (pulled for the public good) and that the two party system, with an ethical GOP, dedicated to the rigorous and worthy task of finding agreement through responsible opposition, is restored to the service of our greater garden.

Figure It Out on the album Right Now © 2010 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blog about RED BANANA TREES

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Check Your Stems [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Wild Carrot. Queen Anne’s Lace. Throughout every season we find ourselves marveling at the aesthetic structure of the plant. The graceful curves and shapes. They inspire movement and floral symbols in my paintings.

Summoning the Oracle, Google, I learned that a common question asked is how to discern Queen Anne’s Lace from poisonous Hemlock. They are surprisingly similar in appearance. “Poison hemlock stems are smooth, while Queen Anne’s Lace stems are covered with tiny hairs…” The moral of the story? Check your stems.

Check your stems.

The verb form of the word ‘stem’ concerns origins. Comes from. Arises from. For instance, the stem of the word ‘democracy’ arises from ancient Greece. The word literally means the people (demos) rule (kratos). “Democratic government is commonly juxtaposed with oligarchic and monarchic systems, which are ruled by a minority and a sole monarch respectively.” Healthy disagreement, opposing points of view expressed without fear en route to compromise, is the beating heart – the stem – of a democracy.

The stem of the word ‘fascism’ comes from Latin and means, “bundle of sticks,” – the visual symbol evolved to include an axe at the center of the bundle, representing “a way of organizing a society in which a government ruled by a dictator controls the lives of the people and in which people are not allowed to disagree with the government.” Elimination of opposing points of view is the stem of fascism.

“Fascism’s origins are…ultimately centered on a mythos of national rebirth from decadence.” You could find no better or clearer tag line for a fascist intention than Make America Great Again. You could not pen a better blueprint for the fascist overthrow of democracy than Project 2025. The forcible suppression of opposition. Political violence as a necessary means of national rejuvenation, the demonization of the “other”.

As demonstrated in their gathering in Milwaukee, the reds are now a perfect expression of their symbol: a bundle of tightly bound sticks in lock-step – with an axe hanging over their heads ready to eliminate any voice of opposition. It turns out, like their sycophantic VP pick, many of these men and women, who once called their supreme red leader “America’s Hitler” and “a wannabe dictator”, were right. Sadly, they lack the courage of their convictions. They fear the axe. They lack a basic grasp of the necessity in a healthy democracy for genuine voices of opposition.

Is it rule by-the-people-and-for-the-people or a fascist autocracy?

How can we discern democracy from poisonous fascism? Check the stems.

Open your eyes and look, really look. The red hats have wrapped themselves in the flag so they might appear like the Grand Old Party. They are not. To anyone undecided or confused or jaded, I can only offer this advice: it’s important to check your stems before you ingest too much fascist hemlock believing you’re dining on democracy.

This Part of the Journey on the album of the same name © 1997, 2000 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blogpost about WILD CARROT

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Don The Hazmat [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Last night while Kerri, 20 and I were playing a game of Rummikub, Rob texted. He asked, tongue firmly planted in his cheek, “Wow! You’re so close to the (RNC) convention, are you going to swing by?” I responded without thinking, “Only if I had a hazmat suit.”

Protection from toxic waste.

Before dinner and before playing the game, 20 told me that earlier in the day, while he was driving, he caught himself pondering what he would do to survive if the red tide sweeps in, stains the White House, and reconfigures Social Security and privatizes Medicare as is promised by their conservative blueprint for authoritarian rule, Project 2025. I asked, “Did you ever imagine in your lifetime that you’d be worried about the overthrow of democracy by a populist dictator?” His dad was a WWII veteran, as was Kerri’s father. My mom was a little girl living in Pearl Harbor on the day it was attacked because my grandfather provided services for the navy. In a single generation, the very threat our elders, our “greatest generation,” fought to eliminate, has overtaken the minds and hearts of the Grand Old Party. They’re currently holding a convention in Milwaukee to forward an agenda that would appall Abraham Lincoln but Adolph Hitler would applaud. “Did you ever think…?”

It’s too late for hazmat suits. The toxin is already racing through our system.

In this past week we’ve repeatedly heard the phrase, “We need to tone down the rhetoric on both sides.” It’s not the rhetoric we need to tone down, it’s the reality we need to face. We’re pretending that this an election like any other election, that it is “systems usual.” It is not. Our two party system is now a one party system attempting to fortify our young democracy against a dictatorial leader and his followers who are filled with fascist dreams. The dialed-up rhetoric of Democrats is akin to sounding an alarm warning of a system-annihilating storm. The rhetoric of the reds is the storm.

Unlike the ideal outlined by our founders, this is not a party of conservative values debating with a party of progressive values to find a compromise path forward: a system designed to achieve balance from opposing points of view. This is an ultranationalist aggression attempting to dismantle our system of governance and replace it with one that forcibly suppresses – and eliminates – any form of opposition.

The body dies when the toxin is ignored and allowed to attack the internal organs.

We play Rummikub with 20 to unplug from the worries of the day. Last night while we played, a terrific storm roared through the region, shaking the house with wind and buckets of rain. Dogga paced as lightning flashed. It was hard to concentrate on the game. I couldn’t help seeing the storm as a metaphor (of course…). With so much toxic waste spewing just up the road, and potentially washing away democracy’s foundation, it is no longer possible to unplug. It’s no longer wise to unplug. Not if we want our good house to survive the red storm.

an image from the archives: House On Fire, watercolor

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read Kerri’s blogpost about THE GAME

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Glut And Remember [on Flawed Wednesday]

Max Boot just wrote an op-ed: The GOP has become the stupid party – and proud of it.

Recently, in the Wall Street Journal, Lance Morrow wrote, “You Are Living In the Golden Age of Stupidity.”

As we drove across the country I read headlines to Kerri. “It’s all so unbelievably stupid!” we say in unison as the miles tick by. I see vast farms with sign-after-sign declaring anger with government interference though the farmers seem okay with the interference when it comes as a subsidy. A manipulated market. A paved road. A public school.

Ignorant. Dense. Brainless. Foolish. Mindless. Synonyms of stupid. “Maybe we’ve always been this stupid,” I offer as we pass an abandoned Stuckey’s. “Maybe,” she says.

One day, when I lived in LA, I opened my studio to find the space filled with pigeons. I closed the door and called the landlord. The next day, after hearing all was clear, I returned to find my studio filled with dead pigeons. I closed the door and called the landlord. “Oops,” he said.

It haunted me that the pigeons died, their bodies forming a perfect circle. They knew in death something that we can only imagine.

We walked downtown and saw pudgy pigeon in a doorway. He’d eaten himself into a conundrum. Too heavy to fly. Alone. All he could do was sit and glut and remember what it felt like to soar.

“Oops,” I said. “No landlord necessary,” I mused, darkly.

“What?” she wrinkled her brow.

“Nothing,” I muttered.

“So sad,” Kerri replied, looking at the flightless bird.

A metaphor, I thought. No circle. Solitary. Just stupid.

read Kerri’s blog post about PUDGY PIGEON

Prove It [on Merely A Thought Monday]

I am about to prove that I am guilty of everything I accuse others of being. I am just as capable of surrounding myself with like-minded people as the next person. Let me explain:

I cheered when I read Marc’s response in the conversation chain. It was an appeal, an attempt to puncture a dedicated delusion, an untethered ideology. But, as is always the case when fantasy is met with fact, the holder of the fantasy vehemently defended and further retreated into their illusion. Confirmation bias.

Among my favorite phrases this week comes from a New Yorker article, Why Facts Don’t Change Our Minds. The phrase: the illusion of explanatory depth. Here are two quotes from the article:

“People believe that they know more than they actually do. What allows us to persist in this belief is other people.” In other words, we ally with people who hold a similar belief rooted in the same lack-of-knowledge. Apparently, as a species, we’d rather be reinforced in our ignorance than consider the possibility that we don’t know what we are talking about. Purple Kool-Aid is easier to drink than wondering if what we’re being told may or may not be truth. It explains the current GOP, Fox News, OAN, Ron Johnson, and the rest of the dangerous-national-clown-car.

Quote number 2: “As a rule, strong feelings about issues do not emerge from deep understanding.”

Strong feelings. Deep understanding.

In the canon of human self-aggrandizement, we delight in the narrative that we are primarily rational, that our reason, like a good border collie, has driven our emotions into safe containment. The opposite seems to be the case. Or, at best, we are a mass of contradictions.

There is a flip-side, a necessity woven into our contradiction that gives me hope. Strong feelings and deep understanding are not natural enemies and need not be pitted against each other. Think of it this way, no firefighter, in his or her right mind, would run into a burning building to save a life, if we were as rational and reasonable as we like to believe. They do, however, study fires beforehand to know how to run in, how to reach. They study the science. For every exploiter there is a matching story of a giver, someone whose strong feelings combines with their deep understanding in an effort to better the world, save a life, make things easier.

That which makes us crazy also makes us compassionate. How’s that for a statement of contradiction? Families fight each other until the forest fire threatens their house. Common cause and education are a great poppers of confirmation bias.

Some fires are manufactured with the sole purpose of exploiting confirmation bias. This kind of exploitation is dependent upon – and feeds upon – strong feelings with shallow roots in understanding. Ignorance. The big lie. Vaccine misinformation. Divide and conquer is always reliant on strong feelings intended to create blindness.

Some fires are real. And, the test of a real fire: divisions fall, eyes open, and people run toward the flames to help other people. It remains to be seen how hot and close the flames need to come before the confirmation bias burns off and we realize that we’re in real trouble, that science is real, and that the big trough of purple (red) kool-aid being proffered is doing the opposite of what it professes to do.

It may be in our nature to believe that we know more than we do, but, it is also in our nature, without concern or thought for our own safety, to reach for the drowning person. Deep understanding allies with strong feelings when people cared enough to learn how to reach, how not to become the person drowned by the drowning person.

Do you see it? I am an idealist. I want to believe in the goodness of humanity and the necessity of shared truth. Yet, despite powerful evidence to the contrary, I hold fast to my dedicated belief that we are capable of tipping toward love rather than falling toward hate, that, when faced with undeniable data, that we are capable of questioning our strong feelings en route to a deeper, shared understanding. We are capable of recognizing that the science that brought us the cell phone, satellites, allergy medicine, and electric light is the same science that brings us the data of climate change, and the best way to beat this pandemic. Cherry picking belief in science is…absurd and currently dangerous. Cherry picking news is equally as absurd and currently dangerous. From my idealistic mind, it is a necessity to ask questions, check sources, doubt belief.

We are certainly capable of knowing the real fires from the those fanned by the thought-arsonists. We are capable of questioning, of suspending our delusions. At least, I like to believe that we are. I, like you, surround myself with like-minded believers.

We’ve proven it again and again and again. When we recognize that the fire is real, our dedicated illusions burn the filters from our eyes, we transcend our little stories, and reach our hands with no thought of political alliance or other exploitative non-sense, to help dig our neighbors from the rubble.

read Kerri’s blog post about BASIC LOGICAL REASONING