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The Gentle People Shall Prevail |
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Thursday, 28 September 2017 08:42 |
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Keillor writes: "In spite of everything, I still believe that the gentle people will prevail over the bullies and braggarts, fascinating though they be."
Garrison Keillor. (photo: Washington Post)

The Gentle People Shall Prevail
By Garrison Keillor, The Washington Post
28 September 17
My uncle was redeemed from racism by a black angel who held his hand in the hospital. I believe it happens all the time.
passed through Houston Monday and found a lot of cheerful stoicism (“It could’ve been worse”) a month after Harvey had messed with Texas. Some boarded-up windows downtown, some houses awaiting demolition. A man told me his church was organizing volunteers to muck out houses hit by the hurricane. I only ever heard “muck out” in reference to cleaning a cow barn -- in this case, they’d be ripping up carpet, rotten floorboards, pulling out sheetrock, spraying with fungicide. He’d gotten off light so he was obligated to help those who hadn’t, he said.
I like Houston. Named for Sam, who skipped the fiasco of the Alamo and was elected president of the Republic of Texas and then lent his name to a major metropolis as the Alamo became a car-rental company. It’s an under-rated city. It’s Texas but not so full of itself. You meet people with money who still drink cheap beer and don’t talk about the texture of it. It’s enormous, large enough to contain New York, Washington, San Francisco, Seattle, Minneapolis and Miami, so it lacks the clear-cut cultural identity that those cities have. It’s more like Opportunityville. But I like that attitude -- that gratitude leads you to do grungy work in behalf of others.
I wished I could’ve been in Little Rock on Monday to celebrate the day back in 1957 when the president of the United States mobilized 1,000 paratroopers to guard nine black teenagers so they could attend Central High School, which was still segregated three years after the Supreme Court had ruled it illegal. Six girls and three boys marched on over to the school, surrounded by men carrying rifles, the nine all dressed up and hopeful -- years later, Minnijean Brown said, “I figured, ‘I’m a nice person. Once they get to know me, they’ll see I’m OK. We’ll be friends.’”
Up in Minnesota, I was 15 and I watched on television as the mob of furious whites blocked their way, screaming, spitting, and it showed you how ugly democracy can be. The mob was simply expressing public opinion, as Gov. Orval Faubus knew, and he took his stand for segregation, and thus his name goes down in the Hall of Shame. No cafe ever named a sandwich for him, nobody named a library for him. He’s a nobody.
A beloved uncle of mine was from Arkansas and he defended segregation and had to face my sainted grandmother who believed that people of color were better-looking, harder working, more loyal to friends and family, and closer to God. His mind was changed a few years later when he was sick in the hospital and was befriended by a black man and came to admire him deeply. This is how it goes in my family: We cling to ignorance and superstition but when the light comes on, we don’t close our eyes to it. We’re nice people. You get to know us, you find out we’re okay, like Minnijean.
I still admire her for her naive belief that niceness could win the day, that those horrible people, their faces contorted by hatred, yelling every ugly thing they could think of, might somehow come around if they just sat down to lunch with her and saw her good manners, heard her good grammar as she spoke with feeling about the books she loved and the good things she hoped to do in life.
In spite of everything, I still believe that the gentle people will prevail over the bullies and braggarts, fascinating though they be. We arise in the morning, eat our oatmeal with raisins, do our Daily Dozen, and take public transportation to work where we sit through a meeting about ambient parallel interface with emulated tab data on the DRT thread affecting the articulated download menu out-sent via the alternate micron converter and we manage to look alert and interested and return to our cubicle with the cartoons pinned to the walls and we write a loving note to our daughter and call a dying friend and send a check to the Home for the Moody, knowing that one day, perhaps tomorrow, we’ll find the envelope with the form letter on our desk, “This is to inform you that as of a week from Friday, your employment here at NorComm will be terminated.” And we’ll simply go on as before.
I just want to say a word in behalf of nice people. My uncle was redeemed from racism by a black angel who held his hand in the hospital. I believe it happens all the time.

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Republicans Sadly Admit Their Dream of Keeping Poor People From Living Longer Is Over |
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Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=9160"><span class="small">Andy Borowitz, The New Yorker</span></a>
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Wednesday, 27 September 2017 13:52 |
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Borowitz writes: "Saddened and more than a little wistful, Senate Republicans acknowledged on Tuesday that their long-standing dream of keeping poor people from living longer was at its end."
Senator Lindsey Graham. (photo: Jim Watson/Getty)

Republicans Sadly Admit Their Dream of Keeping Poor People From Living Longer Is Over
By Andy Borowitz, The New Yorker
27 September 17
The article below is satire. Andy Borowitz is an American comedian and New York Times-bestselling author who satirizes the news for his column, "The Borowitz Report." 
addened and more than a little wistful, Senate Republicans acknowledged on Tuesday that their long-standing dream of keeping poor people from living longer was at its end.
Choking back tears, Senator Lindsey Graham admitted that his crusade to halt the longevity of the poor had turned out to be a quixotic one at best.
“We made a solemn promise to the American people that we would do everything in our power to keep the poor from living so darn long,” he said, his voice quavering. “We didn’t get it done.”
While saying that he did not want to “play the blame game,” Graham could not resist pointing fingers at senators who broke ranks with the G.O.P. leadership over its quest to stall the poor’s unacceptably surging life expectancy.
“I always thought that preventing the poor from living longer was a bedrock Republican principle,” he said bitterly. “I guess I was wrong.”
On the House side, Speaker Paul Ryan urged Graham not to wallow in defeat but to move on to other Republican agenda items, like tax reform. “We may not be able to keep the poor from living longer, but we can still make them poorer,” he said.

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Roy Moore Isn't Just Anti-Gay, He's Anti-Democracy |
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Wednesday, 27 September 2017 13:47 |
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Michaelson writes: "Roy Moore, the twice-disgraced Alabama judge who is now the Republican Party's candidate for Senate, has been depicted in the media as an anti-gay firebrand. But this characterization misses the point and underestimates the danger Moore represents."
Republican nominee for Senate Roy Moore. (photo: Scott Olson/Getty)

ALSO SEE: Christian Nationalism Can No Longer Be Ignored. Roy Moore's Win Proves It.
Roy Moore Isn't Just Anti-Gay, He's Anti-Democracy
By Jay Michaelson, The Daily Beast
27 September 17
The likely next senator from Alabama believes God’s law trumps American law.
oy Moore, the twice-disgraced Alabama judge who is now the Republican Party’s candidate for Senate, has been depicted in the media as an anti-gay firebrand. But this characterization misses the point and underestimates the danger Moore represents.
Moore isn’t simply a bigot; he’s a theocratic scofflaw who has repeatedly put his fundamentalist religious views above the rule of law, and who has used the power of his office to flout the authority of judicial opinions. He is more Joe Arpaio than Anita Bryant.
Of course, Moore is no friend to LGBT people. In a 2002 custody battle, for example, he ruled that a parent’s sexuality should be grounds for taking away their child because “homosexual behavior is a ground for divorce, an act of sexual misconduct punishable as a crime in Alabama, a crime against nature, an inherent evil, and an act so heinous that it defies one’s ability to describe it.”
But from a democratic perspective, his views on the rule of law are far more troubling.
“Roy Moore is the most transparently theocratic politician now on the national stage,” said Frederick Clarkson, senior fellow at Political Research Associates, a think tank that monitors right-wing extremism. “His view is that God is sovereign over both church and state, both of which are to carry out his will.”
Moore first gained notoriety in the 1990s, when, as a county judge, he hung a wooden plaque of the Ten Commandments behind his bench in the courtroom and opened every session with a prayer for divine guidance for jurors. Just imagine how how anyone with a different religious view might expect to be treated in a supposedly secular state court proceeding turned into a religious tribunal.
In 1993, two male strippers accused of murdering a drug dealer objected to the display and the prayer. Quite reasonably, they (or their lawyers) wondered if they’d really get a fair trial in such a context, if the “divine guidance” that Judge Moore wanted jurors to take might bias them against two male strippers. Moore used the controversy to win reelection (sound familiar?), and in a foreshadowing of controversies to come, openly defied a state court order to remove the display.
Once again, look at what this means: a judge simply disregarding a senior judge’s ruling because he believes it to be morally wrong. This is not, as Moore’s backers say, like Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “Letter From a Birmingham Jail,” arguing for resistance to unjust laws. This is a member of the judicial system itself deciding that he is above the law. This is the undermining of democracy itself, replacing it with a personal tyranny grounded in one man’s religious beliefs.
Moreover, the fact that Moore’s view was overwhelmingly popular—a poll at the time showed more than 80 percent of Alabamians agreeing with him—makes the offense worse, not better. The tyranny of the majority against the minority is the worst kind of tyranny; it is what brought us Jim Crow, and, yes, Nazi fascism. Just like Arpaio (and, at times, Donald Trump), Moore is preaching mob justice to an angry mob.
In 1999, Moore ran for state Supreme Court judge, stating that “We must return God to our public life and restore the moral foundation of our law” and that the decline of Christianity “corresponded directly with school violence, homosexuality, and crime.” (Actually, of the 15 states with the highest crime rates, 10 are “red states.” Alabama ranks 12th.) Moore won—as this year, in the face of mainstream Republican opposition.
Immediately upon his election, Moore upped the theocratic ante, installing “Roy’s Rock”—a two-ton granite monument of his own design, with the Ten Commandments on the top and selective quotations from the Founders on its four sides—in the rotunda of the state judicial building. When it was installed, Moore said “in order to establish justice, we must invoke the favor and guidance of Almighty God” and that “to restore morality, we must first recognize the source of that morality.”
In other words, Clarkson told The Daily Beast, “when Moore had a monument to the Ten Commandments installed in the state courthouse, it was because he believes that the United States was founded as a Christian nation, and that God’s laws are that foundation. He wanted the state to acknowledge that. And he has devoted his career to advancing that vision.”
Not surprisingly, this display was found unconstitutional by a federal appeals court in 2003. As before, Moore flatly refused to obey the court’s order to remove it.
Once again, to focus on Moore’s “social conservatism” is perhaps to miss the point. In terms of democracy, it doesn’t matter whether Moore is a fundamentalist Christian, a secular atheist, or a pagan. A federal court has ruled something unconstitutional, and ordered it removed. Moore, a state court judge himself, has simply refused to obey the law.
Of course, it does matter that rallies in support of Roy’s Rock featured an array of Christian Right power-brokers. That’s what distinguishes Moore’s dangerous theocratic tyranny from the harmless dissent of, say, the Satanic Temple of Indiana’s Church of Pot. Moore has the power of the state, if not the force of law, behind him.
But Moore’s greatest danger to the republic is not that he is a Christian. It is that as an officer of the state, he has placed himself, and his personal interpretation of God’s will, above the law of the United States. Moore is not a conservative in any sense of the word. He is a demagogic radical who, in his own words, has sought to elevate God’s law—again, in Roy Moore’s interpretation of it—above human law.
Roy’s Rock was finally removed when the other eight justices of the Alabama Supreme Court voted against him, and Moore himself was removed in office shortly thereafter, when the Alabama Court of the Judiciary found him to be in violation of the Alabama canons of judicial ethics—a decision affirmed by the Alabama Supreme Court in 2004.
But Moore made a comeback, winning back his seat on the Alabama Supreme Court in 2012—once again, over mainstream Republican opposition and running on a populist, fundamentalist Christian platform. And in the wake of the Supreme Court’s 2015 decision on marriage equality, Moore took his most audacious actions yet against the secular rule of law.
In January 2016, Moore issued an order that prohibited Alabama probate judges (who serve under his authority as chief justice) from issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples. This put the state’s 66 probate judges in an impossible bind: between disobeying the Constitution and disobeying their boss.
It also, of course, came in the context of three decades of Moore’s extreme anti-gay rhetoric, including blatantly unethical statements on pending court cases, and was rightly seen as a “stand in the courthouse door” just like George Wallace’s 1963 stand in the schoolhouse door to defend segregation against a federal court order. Like Wallace, Moore invoked states’ rights. Like Wallace, he baldly defied a clear order of the Supreme Court. And like Wallace, he did so to defend a conservative view on civil rights that had been cast aside by the American democratic system.
Moore was removed from office a second time on Sept. 30, 2016, in a 50-page order by the Court of the Judiciary finding him guilty of six major violations of judicial ethics rules. During the appeals process, Moore resigned from his seat and began his campaign for the Senate.
If Moore wins this election, it will be because of his anti-democratic populism, not despite it. Perhaps enough Republicans will stand up for actual conservative principles and vote for Moore’s Democratic opponent, but with the Senate itself hanging in the balance, that seems unlikely. Meanwhile, it is precisely because Moore defies American democratic norms that he is so popular among a certain subset of Alabamians—and precisely because he is so popular that he is so dangerous.
Moore isn’t some talk-radio host, or a fringe preacher with a storefront church. He has flaunted the rule of law as a state supreme court justice, with all the power at his disposal, and will soon likely do so as a United States Senator.

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The Political Travesty of Puerto Rico |
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Wednesday, 27 September 2017 13:44 |
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Cohen writes: "There's a hugely important reason Puerto Rico has struggled, and will certainly continue to struggle, to get the aid it needs: It has no real representation in its own national government."
A Puerto Rican man amid the remains of his destroyed home in Aibonito, Puerto Rico on Monday, Sept. 25, 2017. Trump plans to visit the island. (photo: AP)

ALSO SEE: The President Who Hated to Pay His Debts Bashes Storm-Struck Puerto Rico
The Political Travesty of Puerto Rico
By David S. Cohen, Rolling Stone
27 September 17
Like all U.S. territories, Puerto Rico has no real representation in its own national government
uerto Rico has been devastated by Hurricane Maria. Most of the island is without electricity and communications, making many basic necessities of life difficult. Food, water, air cooling, medical care: it's all becoming increasingly harder to access. And it seems the situation there is going to get a lot worse before it gets better, with relief and aid efforts so far falling far short of what they should be, both in amount and speed.
There are many possible reasons for these shortcomings so far: a president who appears more focused on the NFL than saving people, the false belief among nearly half of Americans that Puerto Rico isn't part of the United States, or just good ol' fashioned racism and xenophobia.
But there's another hugely important reason Puerto Rico has struggled, and will certainly continue to struggle, to get the aid it needs: It has no real representation in its own national government. In other words, the Revolutionary War rally cry of "taxation without representation" is everyday life in Puerto Rico.
Puerto Rico is an American territory of about 3.5 million people. As a territory, Puerto Rico has only one, non-voting member of Congress (currently Jenniffer González-Colón). If Puerto Rico were a state, based on its size, it would have five voting members of the House of Representatives and two senators.
Think of what a difference that would make for Puerto Rico right now. Those seven members of Congress – members who would have actual voting power in the House and Senate – would be able to make a case to their colleagues about the need for immediate help to Puerto Rico. González-Colón can do that now, of course, but her voice is much less powerful because she is by herself – and, more importantly, because she can't vote, she has no power to wield with other members.
If she could vote, her vote would be on the minds of other members of Congress, who would be more inclined to listen to her in order to have her on their side in the future. And if she could vote along with six other Congress members from Puerto Rico, they would be a sizable bloc that would be hard to ignore.
Further compounding the problem, Puerto Rico has no real say in who the president is. As a territory, Puerto Rico votes in the primaries for both parties, but has no representation in the Electoral College that determines who becomes president. (This is true of all U.S. territories, as John Oliver made clear in a powerful segment two years ago.)
Long ago, the Supreme Court gave its blessing to this situation in a series of cases from the early 1900s called the Insular Cases. These had to do with whether Puerto Ricans, now that they were part of the United States, had constitutional rights. The Court held that territories do not have all constitutional rights, particularly when it comes to self-government. As former Puerto Rican Supreme Court Justice José Trías Monge has written, the decisions tell us that, under the Constitution, there is "nothing wrong when a democracy such as the United States engages in the business of governing others."
In short, Puerto Ricans are American citizens who have no real say in what the American government does. That's why Gov. Ricardo Rosselló's statement Monday about the devastation in Puerto Rico ended with this sentence:
"Given Puerto Rico's fragile economic recovery prior to the storms, we ask the Trump Administration and U.S. Congress to take swift action to help Puerto Rico rebuild."
The key word there is "ask" – because, without any say in what his national government does, asking is all Rosselló can do.
So over the coming weeks and months, as Puerto Rico struggles to recover, remember that not only is it struggling because our president is unfocused, or because Americans are ignorant about their fellow citizens, or because of racism and xenophobia: It's also because of the structural disadvantage Puerto Ricans face.

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