By David Glenn Cox
An old expression says that you can tell more about a person by what they leave behind than by what they take with them. The Bible says, you’ll know them by their fruits. Mark Twain said, “Everyone brings joy, some by entering the room and some by leaving it.” Especially at the holidays, we make vain attempts and speak platitudes of peace on Earth, and good will towards men. Between online shopping, work, and online shopping.
But this is that time of year for honest self-reflection of what we’ve taken and what we’ve left behind. The past is permanent, the future is fluid and reality is sudden, like lightening. You’re a kid, then you’re not. You’re single, then you’re not. You got kids at home, then you don’t. Groucho Marx maintained that we should learn from the mistakes of others. Because you’ll never have enough time to make them all yourself. Life has a way of giving us the test, before supplying us with the textbook.
So, at this time of self-reflection, we really shouldn’t be surprised by the actions of one Maggie Greene. She ranted that Republicans shouldn’t support Kwanza because it’s a fake religion.
“Stop. It’s a fake religion created by a psychopath,” Greene said. “People are tired of pandering and BS.” If you’re keeping score at home, saying Happy Holidays is a war on Christmas, and saying Happy Kwanza, is pandering. People? What people? Where? What they call in advertising or Fascism, the bandwagon approach. Everyone says, or four out of five dentists say.
But it is not a religion, it is a holiday for African Americans. Like Columbus Day for Italians or Saint Patrick’s Day for the Irish, or Cinco de Mayo for Hispanics. But Maggie’s message is clear, she has a problem with a holiday for African Americans. We shouldn’t pander to it or to them. That’s her message; it would be religious bigotry if Kwanzaa were a religion. But Maggie’s is good ole fashion racism White Supremacy sitting tall in the saddle. A Christmas fruitcake and you’ll know them by their fruits. So, let’s take a moment at this special time of year to spread a little hate around.
To take time out of her busy day because someone she doesn’t like, is doing something she doesn’t like, but that in no other way affects her. Why? They aren’t throwing virgins into the volcano or pretending to drink blood or eat dead bodies. You know why, if you look closely, you can see the actual person behind the Maggie Greene mask. But don’t spoil your holiday by looking too long. Hate as political rhetoric and political theater and hate as fund-raising tactic.
On Christmas Eve, the Biden’s were trying to inject a note of kindness and inclusiveness, fielding phone calls and tracking Santa’s progress for the children. Jared Schmeck, offered to the President, “Merry Christmas and Let’s go Brandon!” For the sake of honesty, I will admit that I stood on the side of the road, bird finger loaded and ready for the Reagan limousine to pass. In my defense, the limo was driving past my work, and it wasn’t Christmas Eve, before a national audience of small children. Reagan’s shocking Krusty the Clown makeup left me in slack jawed yokeldom and allowed the limo to escape my finger unmolested.
At first, Schmeck claimed not to be a Twumper. But then, realizing that he too could be a grifter, told Steve Bannon he was a Twumper and that he believed the election was 100% stolen. You’ll know them by their fruits. After Texas Representative Thomas Massie, caught flack for his families armed and dangerous Christmas card. Lauren, low rent Boebert couldn’t open the arsenal and arm the family fast enough for her own Christmas card. Hoping to cash in on the outrage. Not even an original idea, monkey see, monkey do.
A Fascist Republican candidate for congress from Nevada. Suggests General Mark Milley should be executed, live on CNN. His crime was staying in touch with his Chinese counterpart and assuring them the US wasn’t about to attack them, no matter how crazy Twump was behaving. He was doing his job, as wars are caused by uncertainty. I’d rather have a President with a butt hurt than a nuclear war by a misunderstanding.
If you read the press, the Fascist believe they will take control of the House next year. Of course, that’s after Twump primaries the Republican Fascists, not loyal enough to him. What the press is describing is an imaginary fountainhead, which is no more than a disingenuous desert stream. Here today, gone underground tomorrow. Twump has led them to the water’s edge and dared them to try and cross.
Leaving decency and kindness behind as unneeded baggage. Declaring war on books and public schools, and science. Declaring war on Democracy itself, and actively attempting to snuff it out. Goose stepping into the past, oblivious to the lighting. Living on the knife edge of outrage, hate and victimhood. Anger for the dreams that never came true and silence for the unappreciated gifts received unasked. Keeping score rather than appreciating that today you have won the battle of life. Tomorrow, you might not be so lucky.
“Well, I will tell you, and you must understand if you can. You belong to a singular race. Every man is a suffering-machine and a happiness- machine combined. The two functions work together harmoniously, with a fine and delicate precision, on the give-and-take principle. For every happiness turned out in the one department the other stands ready to modify it with a sorrow or a pain–maybe a dozen. In most cases the man’s life is about equally divided between happiness and unhappiness. When this is not the case the unhappiness predominates–always; never the other. Sometimes a man’s make and disposition are such that his misery- machine is able to do nearly all the business. Such a man goes through life almost ignorant of what happiness is. Everything he touches, everything he does, brings a misfortune upon him. You have seen such people? To that kind of a person life is not an advantage, is it? It is only a disaster. Sometimes for an hour’s happiness a man’s machinery makes him pay years of misery. Don’t you know that? It happens every now and then.”
― Mark Twain, The Mysterious Stranger