Hey. How you doing?  How’s the family?

I’m getting that out of the way now, because I care and because maybe after reading this, you’ll decide you don’t want to be my social media friend anymore. For one, I did say on Facebook that I was going to try to stay away from making as many political posts and then here I go dropping this massive tome on you. Totally uncool. Then again, I might as well let you know that I sometimes use social media in a feast-or-famine kind way, so that sometimes I post after post after post…and sometimes I don’t post anything for days. I can’t necessarily “be honest” and let you know how I’m going to do it, because I don’t necessarily know what I’m going to do myself.

For the moment what I have decided to do is step back away from my “less politics” declaration. I might post more about politics. I might not. But the way the world is now, I just can’t say. I will touch on a few issues, and that may make some of my friends on the conservative side decide to part ways with me. It might make some of my friends on the left do the same. If it does, then I’m sorry to lose you, but I also don’t believe I should censor myself. So here are a few things, not necessarily in a particular order, although I do think this first one might be the most important.

Steve Bannon

Steve Bannon is on the National Security Council. He’s on the council, while the Director of National Intelligence and the Chairman of the Joint Chief of Staff are not (they are included if the meeting has to do with their particular field of expertise). Technically, there’s not anything necessarily wrong with this, and it is within the president’s discretion to do this. Steve Bannon does not have a vetted security clearance, in much the same way I did when I was in the Air Force (neither does President Trump or the members of Congress, except, perhaps, those who served in the military or worked with specialized contractors). Steve Bannon also ran (is still running?) Breitbart News, an “alt-right” publication, which is a bit of a polite way to say he’s essentially a white supremacist. He’s also a person who is reported to admit that he was a Leninist, one who believed in destroying the state and “all of today’s establishment” (when the person he spoke to, Ronald Rodash, contacted him for confirmation, Bannon said he did not recall the conversation, but he did not deny it).

Many people on Twitter on calling Bannon President Bannon. It is, of course, Twitter, and, as with all social media, they should be taken with a grain of salt. But some of those people on Twitter include former Intelligence officers like John Schindler, who I don’t personally think I would enjoy spending any time with, who calls what Bannon and Mike Flynn are doing as equivalent to a coup. The fact that as I write this Custom and Border Patrol personnel are denying access to refugees in airports, against judge’s orders, and apparently on the orders of the White House, also says something. Whether you want refugees here or not, there are three branches to the government to check and balance each other, and when one of them just runs roughshod on another, that’s a breakdown of what makes America.

Immigration

Speaking of refugees…this may be where I lose some of you on the left. But, perhaps, not as much as I might have thought. Like a lot of Americans, I dwell in a midway area in my political thinking. The events that happened yesterday are one thing. The people detained were, for the most part, people who either had visas and had gone through the refugee vetting program. It can take a year up to a year-and-a-half for refugees to make it through vetting, and from what I’ve seen of the vetting, it’s possible that some of my friends and neighbors might not make it through. I’m okay with the vetting. I think it needs to be done. I even am okay with it being it a little bit more intensive, if need be. Intensive doesn’t mean necessarily more paperwork, because, as someone who has been part of the government, I know how paperwork can just be overkill and confusion. I’m all for give-me-your-huddled-masses and so forth, but security-wise, we shouldn’t be stupid. The approach used with this executive order was stupid.

Wall?  Stupid. Work on immigration, sure. The wall is just a symbol. As some people have pointed out, there is already a bit of a barrier. This is just an expensive piece of art that we’re going to end up paying for, perhaps twice.

Religion

This may be a hard pivot, but writing about that made me think about this. One of the things that was talked about in the good old days (a week ago) was abortion. I’ve mentioned that personally I’m against abortion in abstract. I think there should be less abortions. I personally don’t know anyone who says, hey, there really should be more abortions. There are people who think people should have access to them, sure, but nobody demanding that we have a National Abortion Day or anything (I’m sure someone will bring up someone on the outside of norms to disprove me). One of the ways to have less abortions is to provide education and contraception. Abstinence doesn’t work. It just doesn’t. States that push this have some of the highest teenage birth rates. Abortions themselves are on a steady decline.

Which brings me to religion. If your religion makes you chastise those who get abortions, while also telling them they can’t have the ability to practice safe sex or get useful knowledge, then you’re not a Christian. Tell me you are a follower of the Old Testament, then I’ll believe you. Tell me that you’re a Christian, as in someone who follows the words of Christ, I have to doubt it. Tell me you’re pro-life, but not care about the death penalty (and, hey, I have confusing thoughts about the death penalty myself, but, then again, I don’t say I’m pro-life) or taking care of homeless children or helping those in poverty, then, no, you’re not.

By the way, neither is Donald Trump. He’s not a Christian. He’s not. The evangelists know it. You probably know it, in your heart. He practices no religious belief except himself. Which, fine, he doesn’t have to. We’ve had way more non-religious politicians than any of us probably think, I assume. But every time I see that stupid meme of Christ behind him in the Oval Office guiding his hand, my eyes roll so far back I think I might end up getting a jackpot on the Daily Double.

But Hillary, But Obama

No, stop. You can’t do that anymore. Trump is the president. Whether we want it or not, he is the president. He has to be held to that, not based on what happened before. If you didn’t like something Obama did, but then say “but Obama” when Trump does something similar…well, then the problem wasn’t what Obama did, was it. Obama wasn’t a perfect president. Chances are he’s going to be held to higher esteem as years go by than maybe he should (not to the exaggerated extent that Ronald Reagan is, likely). Considering he came into office with the GOP openly saying they were going to oppose everything he did, that their number one job was to make him a one-term president (and, yes, this was before he even came in office; remember that when you tell people to give Trump a chance), he did all right. He was more moderate than I liked in some ways; more liberal in others. But he can’t be your excuse. I was less a fan of Hillary than I was of Obama, but I voted her only because I thought the other option was worse. I think that still. If she was elected, we would have the same standstill we had for the last eight years, but we wouldn’t have what we have now.

What We Have Now

Climate change. Yeah, it’s real. You know it is. Scientists say it is. The EPA is a pain in the ass. It’s supposed to be a pain in the ass. I’m just sorry (not sorry), but if you don’t care about the climate, then I just don’t understand it, especially if you have children who, hopefully, will get to live with the results of our actions.

We’re making enemies around the world. We’re making enemies right next to door. We’re being looked as a global bully. China is open to war with us now. Iran just said no Americans can travel there. Maybe we don’t want to be beholden to other countries, but there are ways to do it, and walking like we’re the biggest guy in the bar isn’t going to cut it. There’s always somebody bigger eventually.

I thought the March for Life demonstration was ridiculous. But they have the right to do it. The same as people have the right to march for equality or immigration or whatever else. If you think that everyone has equal rights and there’s no reason to march, then explain to me why Brock Turner did so little time in jail. Explain to me why John Crawford is dead. If you mock this right and then whine about your second amendment rights, then guess who’s the snowflake, baby.

Me

I’m not perfect. In fact, I say here and now I would be a horrible choice for president. I don’t hold grudges, but I get angry quickly. It also dissipates quickly, but sometimes I end up typing a reply and sending it before I allow that to happen.

If you voted for Trump, that was your right. I don’t necessarily think it makes you racist or xenophobic or uncaring. How we all react to events now will determine that. If you want to debate with me, I am open to that. I won’t respond to memes, though. Memes follow Sturgeon’s Law, in that 90 percent of everything is crap (with memes, it might be actually a little higher). Memes can be hilarious or insightful, but not often. If you feel like you have to call me “snowflake” or “libtard” or something of the sort, you might as well unfriend me now, because, while those pejoratives don’t hurt me, your need to use them does automatically decrease my respect for you significantly.

I’m not right about everything. I don’t know everything. But I try to learn as much as I can, to see as many sides as I can. But that only happens if communication is open and respectful.

Oh, One More Thing

When you do argue with me, please have something to back it up with. Mainstream media does suck a bit, although not maybe for the same reasons you might think. Media nowadays (and, let’s be honest, way in the past, also) is about telling a story, about pulling you in. I don’t necessarily think that media lies (some outliers on the left and right do), but they frame the story a certain way. For example, with the recent refugee stories, we’re told story about translators who helped the military and who are supported by military members they worked with. That’s true, and that’s great. There are also translators who betrayed the military members they were working with, but that doesn’t fit a story.

So read as much as you can. I know it’s a bitch, but it needs to be done. I probably read a dozen different sources in a day, most of them independent journalism publications. Read academic journals on certain subjects. Find experts in the field (one of the reason I follow Schindler on Twitter is because of his national security expertise). Do not do anything within a bubble.

And if you’ve gotten this far, and you’re still with me, then I hope we can all make it through it together.

I’ve tried to write something the last few days.

Each time I sat down and put my fingers on the keyboard…I just stopped. Not because I didn’t have anything to write. I have so much to write. So much that the words can’t seem to come out of my head in any coherent or linear form (not that linear writing is something I’m competent at even in the best of times).

I read earlier today about Sheriff David Clarke (a Milwaukee sheriff who often guests on Fox News and whose prisons seem to have died of water depravation). He told people that the only way he would reach across the aisle to liberals (and, technically, he’s registered as a Democrat, which is advantageous in the county he runs in) is to wrap his hands around their throats.

Now, despite what some people think and have said to me, I don’t think of myself as liberal. I don’t think of myself as conservative. In fact, I’m pretty adamant on not labeling myself, to what is probably an annoying degree. I do tend to have many opinions that fall in line with general “liberal” thinking, but I have several “conservative” opinions, also. In the last election, I voted for Democrats, Republicans, and an Independent, based on what I felt was the right person for the job. But people insist that you have to be this one thing or the other, despite the fact that the majority of the American population identifies Independents rather than Republican or Democrat.

I’m not a Trump fan. Have never been a fan, although for much of my life I didn’t really think about him. The more I learn about him, the less I care about him. I did try to give him a chance, though. I mean, what else is there to do. But even now, in the last few minutes in which I’ve been writing this, he’s accused the media of lying about the size of his inauguration, claiming that it reached to the Washington Monument, even though we all have the ability to see this is not the case. He claims the media made up the tiff between him and the intelligence community, even though there are direct quotes from him about it. Not to mention the people who he has put up for appointments (barring a few that were actually good choices). Not to mention the positions he hasn’t even bothered to appoint someone for.

But I try, I try. And I see again and again people saying, “get over it,” “he won,” “he’s your president,” “give him a chance.” The fact that these same people have spent much or all of the last eight years complaining about President Obama doesn’t seem to matter to them.

And that’s the crux, I think. I don’t feel like I can assign myself to a label, and I don’t feel like I can talk to people, besides people who agree with me, because they won’t listen, they won’t engage, they won’t have an honest conversation. I saw someone link something that called Obama the worst president in history. In history? I want to ask them what about James Motherfucking Buchanan, but the sad thing is, I’m pretty sure they don’t even know who that is. And I consider myself far from a presidential expert.

I want to reach across an aisle. I want to find those who disagree with me, those who think Trump will be a great president, and I want to understand why. I want real information, not something that comes in a meme or a slogan, a catchphrase, a carefully concealed hint of racism. But they don’t come out. I don’t know that I could tell you the last time I had an actual exchange of communication with someone who didn’t agree with me on a political issue. I’ve had fights, disagreements, threats against me and my family…but an actual conversation, no. I want one. I want it so desperately. I want to understand exactly what they see, and I want them to understand what I see, but everything is so divided.

James Buchanan would know about that.

A rapist lives a mile down the road.

Technically, he lives slightly less than a mile. And it’s not quite down the road. It’s more of a left, then a left, then a right, then a right.

What is true is that he was convicted of sexually engaging a five-to-seven year old girl. He was sentenced for this crime and recently paroled.

My wife pointed this out to me after seeing it on FaceBook. I would not be lying that my first reaction was much like those of some of the commenters on this post: talk of bullets and rope and castration.

Subsequent thought, however, has cast my thoughts in many different directions. The first, and most pressing, has to do with my daughter, and how I should handle this. Realistically, there is not much I should need to do, at least not any more than we have already done with her in regard to sexual predators and other dangers. We’ve had talks. We’ve told her what she should do, and we’ve made her repeat it back to us. This man is a mile away, true, but, because of how secluded we are and that my daughter is home-schooled (and therefore doesn’t ride the bus), in the normal course of events, it’s highly unlikely she would ever encounter him in any type of dangerous way.

Not impossible, though. So tonight we will have another conversation. And we will tear down another board in the safe house she lives in, where there are still happy endings, where Santa Claus still exists, where girls like her don’t get raped and murdered. That house has to be torn down. It’s a necessity, but it’s a necessity that feels shameful.

Theoretically, a man gets punished for his crime (or, in a quite laughable concept that I’ve heard actually happens in other countries, he is rehabilitated), and he is able to continue his life as a productive member of society. The chances of that happening, particularly in America, are slim. In the cases of sexual abuse and rape, less than that. As a parent, that last statement is hard to reconcile with my forgiving nature and my need to protect my children and, to an extent, all children.

I’m not going to attack or harass this man, though. I see what people write on FaceBook, and there is empathy for them, some, but also disillusionment. What they write they do not mean. In some ways, they are doing no more than posturing in front of others, like a child would do until he is called out by someone. In a way, it’s understandable, almost a ritual or superstition, a ceremony to keep the darkness away. Darkness held back with darkness still consumes.

For now, I can only keep my eyes on my child. I can only tear another board off her house. I’ll hold her hand as we walk through parking lots, anticipating her pulling her hand away once we get in the store, because she’s too old to need her hand held all the time. Better that than have it snatched away.

Time is an oil leak. At first you don’t notice anything, and then all of a sudden a rod is thrown and the entire works is shot. As part of that constant of American traditions, I decided to write down some goals for the next year (“resolutions” being somewhat beneath me, for reasons). One of the goals was to write blogs more. So I come here and look. Holy shit, I haven’t written a blog since July of 2013, after Jaden, the empress of cats, had to be put to sleep.

Then I felt like cats would no longer be part of life for me.  There was Oy, but he took a mysterious trip sometime around the time Jaden died (I can’t remember if it was before or after; all I know is that cat was Satanic). There’s Beetle, who is still around and still bigger than a breadbox. Beetle doesn’t sound like she’s going to be long for the world, honestly, and I can’t work up much sadness about that. I don’t want her to die, but she’s not like part of the family to me. She’s like a piece of furniture, something unused, but which covers up a stain on the carpet or a hole in the wall, so we don’t get rid of it. So I figured once Beetle was gone, that would be it.

There are five pets in the house now. Even today, I’m still not sure exactly how that happened. Well, sort of, I guess. We decided to get a pet for Tatiana. That was a mistake. Because going to the shelter meant Katy could fall in love with creatures, and she did. Rose was the first. Rose was Tatiana’s dog, but really, she belongs to Katy. Katy calls the dog her baby. Katy has her sit in her lap, even though the dog weighs about seventy pounds. I believe the dog likes me more than anyone else in the house, but that’s through no fault of my own. I’m not a dog person. I haven’t been since I was a kid, but the damn dog won’t leave me alone.

Wash came along next. Honestly, we got wash because the shelter was giving away cats for nine bucks, and who wouldn’t want to buy a cat at that price. Wash is aloof. Nothing affects him. His need and desire for affection is fleeting, and if he notices you noticing him giving you affection, it stops. He’s my favorite. As much as this cat could have a favorite, I suppose I might be his.

Fred and Xander came together, in that we got the dog, Fred, and the cat, Xander, at the same time. Fred is small and pathetic and, if you look her in the face, she looks creepily like a little Jewish man. I think we’ve had her for six months, and she still runs away anytime I come near her. Doesn’t stop her from sleeping right next to me on the bed, slowly pulling the blankets off my body.

Xander we got, honestly, because he’s the softest cat we’ve ever felt. I assumed that I would be his favorite and he mine. Somehow, no. Xander is not mean in any way, but he doesn’t understand play, at least not play with people. I have claw marks on me every day. Strangely enough, Tatiana and Xander are the best of buds. She picks him up and carries him around as if he were one of her dolls. If Katy or I did that, we would both be marked up. He’s walking around the house right now, meowing because she’s not here. He’s looking for her, but she’s visiting her mother and won’t be here until next week. I shudder to think how he’ll respond in the summer when Tatiana spends much of the summer away.

Too many pets.