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This weekend's mailbag was pretty stuffed, which would have made squeezing in this submission from D.E. in Lancaster, PA tough. Meanwhile, debates take a long time to watch and write up, leaving not so much time for other items. So, why not kill two birds with one stone? Take it away, D.E.:
Speaking of forces, right after reading your last line on Friday, "And if Donald Trump does lose this election, it will be substantially because he and his three Supreme Court justices unleashed forces they did not fully understand, and could not counteract," I saw that Stevie Nicks just released a new song and video, "The Lighthouse."
Nicks wrote this song as a response to the Dobbs decision. She has had a personal history with the subject, having aborted a pregnancy she had with her then-boyfriend, Eagles co-founder Don Henley. Her Fleetwood Mac song "Sara" is said to address this incident. It must also be noted that Nicks is scheduled to be the musical guest on Saturday Night Live on October 12 (Ariana Grande, another vocal Kamala Harris supporter, is the host). I'm willing to bet that Nicks will perform this song and Grande will join her (and maybe some others) which is sure to make it go viral.
As readers might remember, I am a fan of Ms. Nicks (although to be honest, I didn't buy the last couple of her solo albums). Putting aside the excesses of music videos, I found the song itself quite powerful. Rock is often known as the music of protest, but not lately. Maybe it's because so much of popular music nowadays is so corporate and homogenized, that this really stands out to me as a very daring move. It certainly raised my eyebrows because, when I was a young adult, people and politicians did their best to avoid mentioning the subject of abortion.
I was in college when "Sara" was released. One semester, I decided to take as an elective, a philosophy class called "Modern Moral Problems" or something like that. Being a science fiction nerd, I was expecting that we would be dealing with topics such as nuclear war/winter/energy, cloning, genetics, IVF and euthanasia, all which were topics in the forefront of the news at the time. The professor was a new hire and this was his first class. On the first day, the professor handed out a topic syllabus, listing the subjects to be covered. I was happy to see that most of my issues were listed, but I also noticed abortion, capital punishment and gay rights were included, which seemed legit. On the second day of class, the professor dragged out one of those clacky school projectors, saying he wanted to show us a film. The whole class was still very much unsuspecting as to what was about to be unleashed.
It so happened that I was right beside the projector and as the professor was doing a preamble to the film, I couldn't help but notice that the professor's leg was trembling like crazy, a motion I had only witnessed in boys who think they are about to score. The film was one of the many "fetus in the trash can" propaganda films that the anti-abortion supporters loved to show. At first, the professor tried to couch his lectures as being neutral, but it didn't take us long to realize that he was an avid/fervent/rabid right-to-lifer. From that day forward, every class consisted of alternating between "Abortion Horror" film (to all propagandists, all shock value becomes null after about the third "fetus in a trashcan" shot) and a 60 minute non-stop anti-abortion harangue by the professor, often with the photos of the "fetuses in the trashcan" propped up on his desk. There was never any attempt of presenting the pro-abortion side. Anyone who tried to present another viewpoint was immediately and viciously shot down. Even college students know that if your hand gets burnt you don't put it back on the stove eye. The "discussions" quickly silenced to one voice harping.
During the first couple of classes, I watched the faces of my classmates turn off, one by one. I'm not talking the bored look of student wishing they were back in their dorm partying, but rather a completely blank face of "I'm not here." I found myself also checking out, in that I don't remember the vast majority of the semester. Several years ago, I ran across my notebook for that class with the topic syllabus in it. The first couple of pages consisted entirely of my art doodles and sketches; but after a few weeks even those disappeared. The rest of the notebook was blank pages, as I had found some way to completely disengage. His heated voice preaching like a revival minister became the white noise in the background.
In the class meeting before the exam, the professor sat on the desk and good naturedly laughed to himself saying that because the class had been so engaged on the subject of abortion (my mind began to stir awake because no one was engaged or even spoke in this class) he had (chuckle) let the whole semester slide by without covering any other subjects. He proposed that he would go through the list of other topics quickly (my mind awakened more, wondering how the very complicated subjects of genetics, nuclear war and cloning could go through a speed round). He then proceeded to give quick proclamations about a few topics. My mind stirred even further awake by wondering how someone who non-stop preached about the sanctity of life was so quick to embrace capital punishment, but also embrace the most vicious and brutal forms of capital punishment. The "eye for an eye" guys had nothing on him. He was also vehemently anti-adoption.
The very next subject he made a pronouncement on was like a very loud alarm clock making me sit bolt-upright. He stated that on the subject of gay rights, that clearly AIDS was "God's revenge against faggots." I didn't even raise my hand but instead blurted out, "Hold it. You need to stop right there." Around me, I saw all the other students awake in shock. I then proceeded to talk about what a heinous statement that was from a religious, moral and personal level (at the time, I was pretty much in the closet so I substituted myself as "a friend of mine" even though I'm often my own worst enemy). To my surprise, one of the school's cheerleaders also spoke up, not only being pro-gay rights but against his non-stop tirade against abortion. The professor's mouth fell open in complete shock. He definitely had never experienced someone refuting his statements before. He mumbled a few words, dismissed the class early and rushed out of the room. The rest of the class followed in silence, leaving me alone with the cheerleader.
We looked at each other, eyes wide open in shock, clearly not believing we had just spoken out. It felt good but on the inside I was freaking the fu** out, feeling like I had just come out unintentionally to the entire world. Surely, that outburst would end up on my (gasp) Permanent Record. We thanked each other. She said something about "I guess that means we just failed this class." I replied, "Well, that will be a fun grade to explain." We gathered our things and trudged to the door. To my shock and horror, the entire class was standing in the hallway, waiting for us. Visions of gay bashings starting dancing in my head. But instead of rebuke or criticism, all the students thanked us for speaking up. They said that during the entire semester that they wanted to speak up, but were afraid to. So many expressed anger and frustration at being bombarded by his rigid and hateful rhetoric. One student said that while she considered herself pro-family, the professor went way too far. After a few minutes, the students dispersed, leaving the cheerleader and me alone in the hall. She turned to me and said, "Let's go to the dean and save our grades."
My college was a small, private college that, while it had a religious background, was a nonsectarian place of learning. The college (it's now a university) placed its emphasis on hiring professors who wanted to teach, first and foremost. Faculty research and scholarly writing came a distant second in their interview process. The previous year, I had been chosen to represent the freshman year students on a panel that was going to give the award to the best professor for the year. As a part of that panel, I was given unprecedented access to the five nominated professors' files, syllabi, and interview notes. For the first time in my academic career, the head of the school knew me for a positive reason. So when the cheerleader and I showed up unannounced at his office, he quickly opened the doors and we were ushered in. His listened silently to both of our stories. After we finished, he too thanked us, for speaking out and coming to him. He said in no uncertain terms that was not the course the college approved to be taught. He told us that we did not have to attend the final exam and that we didn't have to worry at all about our grade (we both received an A). This was a spring semester class and I found out in the fall that the final exam for the whole class had been canceled, that our grades were determined by a board based on essays we had written, and, most importantly, that professor was not on the faculty. I would like to say that was the last I heard of him, but about 5-6 years later, I spotted his name in the local paper. He was going to prison for colluding with a man who had planted a pipe bomb at an abortion clinic (luckily, the bomb did not explode because it was so ineptly made). I entered that class a complete abortion agnostic but that's not the way I left it.
I have lived through "The Silent Majority," the Religious Right, the Contract with America, the "Compassionate Republicans," the Moral Majority, the Tea Baggers (their original and most accurate name) and now the MAGA Cult. Throughout the years of all these nihilist movements by the Right, I have heard Americans from all walks of life and a wide variety of backgrounds say that they wished they had spoken up against this kind of extremism. One year, when I bartended at a poolside bar/snack stand at the Washington Hilton, the Moral Majority had their convention there. I met a middle-aged widow from Maine, who would sit at my poolside gazebo sipping a soft drink, and would talk to me.
One particular grey-about-to-drizzle day, she said to me out of the blue, "You know, I don't know why I come to these things. I don't believe in any of the issues they push. I hate the things they say. That's not me. I simply, one day at church, filled in a questionnaire that was handed to me and I guess because I checked yes on a few common sense items the next thing I know I'm getting an invitation to join the Moral Majority. And I did because I was lonely and everybody I knew was joining. I don't like these people. They scare me. They bully everyone. I keep saying this time I'm going to speak up but I never do." To this day, I hold that conversation near and dear to my heart. She was a genuine and beautiful person. As she was leaving to go home, she stopped by and gave me a swan that she carved from a block of soap and told me if I ever wanted to visit Maine to look her up. I kept both the carving and her contact information for years.
I know thanks to algorithms, that the stories I read, the videos I watch, and the postings I read are geared to be in alignment with my thoughts. Having said that, in previous elections, the left has always been a little shy about speaking their minds. Even when gathered together, they would speak demurely and with caution so as not offend. With Barack Obama's election there was rejoicing but also a lot of naivety. There was still a reluctance to be too loud in criticism of the Right. Again, I might be biased through a selective lens, but this election, I hear more and more people who are mad at what the MAGA Cult has done to our country. Now, this isn't an aggressive anger but a completely defensive one. The phrases I keep hearing are "Enough is enough" and "This has gone on too far." When I think on how fast the Harris coalition came together, I stand in awe. It reminds me of when they talk about the Perfect Storm that all these various elements have to fall together in the right time and the right place to create a powerful storm.
One of my favorite Stevie Nicks songs has this lyric, "Never have I been a blue calm sea/I have always been a storm." I hope this doesn't sound like empty left-wing rah-rah propaganda because I have never been a good cheerleader kind of guy (pep rallies in school always left me dismayed and confused); but I do sense a huge storm brewing off the coast. To those who have never lived near the sea, this is not hyperbolic power but something you can physically feel. You talked about Trump and the extreme right unleashing "forces they did not fully understand" in regards to the overturning of Roe. Yes, abortion is leading the way but a whole slew of other issues are following in its wake, too many to even list.
Trump's Project 2025, if it has its way, wants to defund the agencies that track storms and hurricanes, making the tracking of these forces of nature impossible. Hurricane Helene, as of this writing early Friday evening, has left 38 dead in five states. The MAGA Cult is the road to madness and for too, too long these extremists have had their voices amplified. Hurricanes are known for their death and destruction, but they also bring benefits in their wake. They replenish the aquifers in the South and along the east coast. Anyone who has experienced a hurricane knows that after the storm has passed the air is wonderfully fresh and clean. Gone are the oppressive fevered humors that collect before a storm, but at least the air is clean as you survey the damage the storm wrought. Let's stop worrying about the pet-eating Haitians under the bed, and start worrying about the madman at the door. The dangers are real. I think we are in the midst of a sea change as a country, that going forward we will defend the things we know are right and moral; that we have stopped letting the fascist elements of the conservative party dictate our conversations. We—and by that, I mean the true silent majority, the decent well-meaning and kind Americans—are speaking up and our voice will be heard. Our strength will be felt. As Stevie sings in her new song, "This has happened before... Don't let them take your power!"
Thanks, D.E.! We think that piece is a pretty good complement to the debate. (Z)