Now that we know how the story ends, let’s discuss…
12 minute read
November 10, 2024, 10:15 AM
That was certainly an interesting election night. First of all, I couldn’t help but think that the news coverage reminded me of an episode of Deal Or No Deal, in that there was a lot of yakking amongst the talking heads, then it’s suddenly time to make a call, which felt like opening a case. And then depending on what was in the case, we all went “yay” or “awwww”, and then finally at the end of the night, we open up our own case and find out who the next president will be. The only thing missing was the banker.
That observation aside, the night felt a lot like election night in 2016, when Hillary Clinton lost the election to Donald Trump. There, Elyse and I were at home, watching the election results roll in, and we saw a lot more states get called for Trump than we expected to see. I remember when they called Ohio, Elyse said to me, “Trump is going to win, isn’t he?” I was doing the math there, and I didn’t want to agree with her, but it was looking like that was going to be the case. Then the next morning, we found out that it was.
This time around, I was at work, and checked in on the election on my breaks. I couldn’t help but notice that with every check of my phone, Trump remained ahead of vice president Kamala Harris. I expected a Trump lead early on due to the red mirage/blue shift phenomenon, where precincts with lower populations, which typically tend to vote Republican, get counted quickly because they’re small, giving an early bump to the GOP candidate – thus the red mirage, because the Republicans get that early boost. Then as larger population centers, which typically tend to vote for Democratic candidates, get counted, the Democrats catch back up – thus the blue shift. So when I saw all of the early returns come in and saw that Trump was leading, I was like, okay, red mirage, nothing to worry about here, because it will correct itself later on. Then after another trip across the line, I checked my phone and was surprised to see that Trump was still leading. I was starting to think, okay, when is the blue shift going to happen? As it would turn out, it never came, as Trump ultimately pulled out a victory over Harris. I would check my phone after each trip across the line, and watched as Harris’ path to victory got narrower and narrower. Then I watched it some more when I got home. Once Pennsylvania had been called for Trump, I realized that it was over. At that point, in order for Harris to make it to 270, she would have had to win in every single state that remained in play, but one of those states was Alaska, which is a very reliable red state. In fact, Alaska has only cast its electoral votes for a Democratic candidate once in its entire history as a state, in 1964 for LBJ. Every other time, it’s voted for the Republican, and there was no reason to think that this election would buck that trend. It was a certain sinking feeling to know that the path to a Democratic victory had fully closed, and a Harris presidency just wasn’t going to happen.
Continue reading…Categories: National politics
That post certainly aged like milk…
4 minute read
August 16, 2024, 8:12 AM
It’s funny… I know when I write some Journal entries that they will not necessarily age well, but some become dated a lot faster than others. Usually, when it comes to entries about politics and current events, I know that they will become dated more quickly than something else that isn’t related to politics or current events. Multiply that by a zillion when it comes to posts about elections and political candidates that aren’t primarily civics lessons. Those posts tend to become dated fairly quickly, often once the election is over.
However, I don’t think anything has aged worse than a Journal entry that I wrote a few weeks ago called “The Democrats are playing with fire…” talking about the Democratic Party’s circular firing squad, where they have this tendency to devour their own people at the slightest hint of anything, and that they had, at that time, turned their sights on President Biden. In that entry, I suggested that the Democrats not devour the president, with the idea that they needed him in order to win in November, and I made a whole bunch of arguments in favor of sticking with Biden. As it would turn out, the party devoured him, as Biden dropped out of the race a little more than a week after my entry published, which rendered my entire Journal entry moot.
So on one hand, I’m kind of salty about the loss of my entry’s relevance. It now goes down in history as the entry that became irrelevant and/or moot the fastest. This one became moot even more quickly than my “I believe that we have finally reached the other side of this thing…” entry from May 2021 where I was declaring all of the pandemic nonsense over, and then officials reneged on their all-clear and reinstated a lot of the nonsense all over again. At least we got to have the summer on that one before everyone started screaming “delta, delta, delta” and made my entry moot. Even more so than regular datedness that comes with Journal entries about elections, such as “Petty tribalism has no place in the 2020 cycle…” that became dated as soon as the primaries ended. But it at least was relevant for a little while.
Categories: National politics, Schumin Web meta
The Democrats are playing with fire…
10 minute read
July 8, 2024, 9:08 AM
On the first debate between president Joe Biden and former president Donald Trump during the 2024 election cycle, the biggest takeaway that I suspect most people got out of it was that Biden’s performance wasn’t what many people had expected from a sitting president. That then led to many calls for Biden to step down and be replaced as the Democratic nominee with some other Democrat that is presumably more youthful than Biden. All I know is that by having this kind of discussion, Democrats are playing with fire, and if they continue to go down that path, I guarantee you that it’s not going to end well for them.
First of all, I’m willing to forgive Biden for a lackluster performance at the debate. Every other performance of his that I’ve seen has been okay. Thus I’m willing to take Biden at his word that his poor performace was fatigue-related due to a lot of international travel, and move on. After all, no one is perfect. It sounds like he overbooked himself, i.e. he had been presidenting really hard, and the debate was where things broke down. It doesn’t mean that he’s declining in physical or mental capacity, or otherwise incompetent, and it certainly shouldn’t be taken to define him. Looking at my own job performance, one could conceivably look at the occasions where I’ve flubbed announcements on the train, and use it to paint an unflattering picture of my competence as a train operator that may not be completely fair. For the record, yes, I am a very competent operator. I know every inch of the system. Among other things, I have operated over every mile of revenue track, I have serviced every single station, I know the order of all of the stations backwards and forwards, I know all of the alphanumeric codes for the stations and yards, and I know where all of the interlockings are. But some trips, especially after I’ve been up and down the same line several times that day, I just can’t get my announcements straight, occasionally calling out the wrong next station or the wrong direction of travel. I usually catch myself when I do that, but all the same, some riders might use that as a way to unfairly characterize me as an idiot. Same thing goes for the president. I’m willing to forgive a poor performance if everything else is where it needs to be.
Categories: National politics
A day in Filthadelphia…
10 minute read
January 3, 2024, 12:46 PM
On Friday, December 29, I went up to Philadelphia for the day with my friend Aaron Stone. We each had our goals up there, and for the most part, we accomplished them. I wanted to see the “Four Seasons”, and Aaron wanted to see the SS United States. And then we both wanted to go to King of Prussia Mall. Elyse, meanwhile, was unavailable, as she was on a work trip to Roanoke for bus museum business.
I feel like, for this trip, we scheduled it more or less perfectly. We had exactly the right amount of time for what we had intended to do. We left in the HR-V from my house, and made two quick food stops in Ellicott City and Catonsville. Then it was straight through to Delaware House. That was a bit more involved than I had anticipated, though, as there was a large backup just north of I-695, which slowed us down a bit. I was regretting not looking at Google ahead of time before deciding not to bounce at White Marsh and taking Route 1 for a ways, like I did last April on the New York trip. Route 1 is a viable alternative to I-95, and this would have been a good time to use it.
Then after Delaware House, we continued straight through into Pennsylania, taking I-95 through Wilmington. Every time I go through Wilmington, I always say that I want to explore it, but then I never plan a trip to actually go to Wilmington. It always gets bypassed, either by skirting it to the southeast on trips that go into New Jersey, or by never getting off of the highway while going through on the way up to Philadelphia. I went to Christiana Mall last year, but still haven’t done Wilmington itself. Aaron and I discussed possibly doing a quick side trip through parts of Wilmington on the way back down, time permitting, so maybe we’d do a little bit in Wilmington, but that can was kicked down the road for now.
Categories: Cameras, National politics, Philadelphia, Retail, Ships
A long-awaited resolution to a surprisingly contentious issue…
8 minute read
November 18, 2022, 10:00 AM
Sometimes, when it comes to elections, the ones that we lock onto most are little local issues. For me, it was the courthouse issue in Augusta County, Virginia. For those not familiar, Augusta County is the area where I grew up, and the courthouse is located in Staunton. That means, due to all cities’ being independent from counties in Virginia, the Augusta County courthouse is technically located outside of the county (though that is not unique to Augusta County by any means). As I understand it, for quite some time, Augusta County has been short on space for its courts, and has been looking to replace its courthouse with something bigger and more modern. Then to add another wrinkle to this, the rest of the Augusta County government had moved out to nearby Verona, located just north of Staunton, long ago. When we moved to the area in 1992, the Augusta County Government Center was a relatively new building in Verona, and since then, a regional jail has been built in Verona, the sheriff’s office moved to Verona, and the school system headquarters moved to Verona (though the schools moved from elsewhere in the county, not from Staunton). The only thing left in Staunton was the courts. The kicker there was that the location of the courthouse determined what town was the county seat, and moving the county seat required a referendum to be placed before the voters. And as you know, voters can be an odd bunch. Sometimes they perform the way you want or expect them to, but sometimes they don’t. And generally speaking, some things will never pass by referendum. If you’re raising taxes, for example, it will fail when taken to the voters, because in all fairness, who is going to vote to raise their own taxes?
The problem with the courthouse in Augusta County has been longstanding. The Augusta County courthouse had fallen below state standards for court facilities some time ago, and because of that, the county had been given a “show cause” order to improve the courts. County leaders also stated that they were unable to renovate their existing court facilities to meet current state standards. Thus it was necessary to build a new courthouse.
Categories: Augusta County, State and local politics, Staunton, Virginia local news
Thoughts about carpetbagging…
11 minute read
September 26, 2022, 9:00 AM
Lately, I have had very mixed feelings on the subject of carpetbagging when it comes to congressional races. First, though, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the term, “carpetbagging” is an American term that was historically used to describe northerners who came to the south following the Civil War, and who were perceived to be exploiting the local population for their own gain. The term comes from their luggage, which was typically a traveling bag made out of scraps of carpet. In modern usage, it is generally used to refer to anyone who is running for political office in an area where they have no local connections. Among others, Hillary Clinton fits the modern definition of a carpetbagger when she ran for a US Senate seat in New York, as she had never been a New Yorker prior to her running for the Senate.
The reason that I have very mixed feelings about carpetbagging comes from two people who have a history of running for Congress, and who have had varying results. Additionally, I feel cursed by being able to see the issue from both sides. Of the two politicians that I’m thinking of, one of them is David Trone, who has represented Maryland’s sixth district in Congress since 2018. The other is Jennifer Lewis, a politician from Waynesboro, Virginia who has become something of a perennial candidate, having unsuccessfully run for Congress in Virginia’s sixth district in 2018 and a seat in the Virginia House of Delegates in 2019, and who is now is running in the sixth district again this year.
In the case of David Trone, the sixth district was not his first rodeo when it came to congressional races. Trone first ran for Congress in 2016, when he ran for the eighth district seat, which was open that year after incumbent Chris Van Hollen declined to run for his House seat again in order to run for the Senate to succeed retiring senator Barbara Mikulski (he ultimately won). Trone ran in the Democratic primary for the eighth district, which was a nine-way race between a bunch of politicians whose names I won’t bore you with because unless you live in Montgomery County, you’ve probably never heard of any of them and never will. I lived in the eighth district at that time, and I recall having voted for Trone in that primary, because he seemed reasonable enough. He finished second in the primary behind Jamie Raskin, who took the nomination with 33.6% of the vote to Trone’s 27.1%. For a nine-way primary, Trone did respectably, but with this being a first-past-the-post system in a single-member district, Raskin advanced to the general election, and Trone was eliminated. I figured that would be the end of Trone, politically, since Raskin would probably hold the seat for a while, and Trone would return to the private sector and his Total Wine & More business.
Categories: State and local politics
A reminder about party affiliation in Maryland…
5 minute read
March 14, 2022, 2:40 PM
As we move ever closer to the midterm elections in Maryland, and the primaries that accompany them, this seems like the perfect time to remind everyone about the way that primaries are conducted in Maryland. Specifically, Maryland, along with 13 other states plus DC, conducts closed primaries. That means that the only way to participate in a primary election is to have registered your political party choice with the state voter registration system ahead of time, usually before a deadline. In the case of Maryland, that party deadline is June 7, 2022. Party registration in a closed primary state is not something to be taken lightly, and determines which candidates you get to vote for in the primary.
All of this about party registration should not be confused with any actual political leanings that you may have. In a jurisdiction that skews very heavily in one direction, and where party registration is required in advance in order to vote for a given party’s primary candidates, the only way that you get any say in your local governance is to register in that party. In a situation like this, the primary election for that party is the election that decides the result, and the general election is just a formality, because the nominee of that party always carries the race by a very large margin, and the other general election candidates know that they have no real chance at winning.
(By the way, if all of this sounds vaguely familiar, this is not the first time that I have written about this subject.)
Categories: Montgomery County, State and local politics
A peeve about political terminology…
3 minute read
December 14, 2021, 6:15 PM
One thing that always bothers me when I’m reading and listening to things from political discussions is when I hear someone use a term incorrectly, specifically referring to political parties. As you probably know, the two major political parties in the United States are the Democratic Party and the Republican Party. The names, as they refer to the political parties, are themselves relatively meaningless, and are really brand names more than anything (and, in fact, the parties have switched stances with each other since their formation). “Democratic” with a capital “D” is a separate concept from “democratic” with a small “d”. The ideas of “Democratic values” and “democratic values” are two different things, as one thing refers to the political party, while the other is more abstract and references democracy more generally. The same goes for “Republican” (capital “R”) and “republican” (small “r”). The former refers to the Republican Party, also known as the “Grand Old Party” or “GOP”, while the latter refers to representative government, also known as a republicanism. People like to consider the United States as a democracy, but technically, we operate under a republican system, because, constitutionally speaking, we are a republic, because we elect people to do all of the governing for us on our behalf, rather than all of us getting together and doing it ourselves (the founding fathers tended to view “democracy” as a negative thing, likening it to mob rule). The concept of democracy and a small-d democratic system has little to do with the capital-D Democratic Party. Similarly, the concept of republicanism and a small-R republican system of government does not mean a government that is, by definition, run by the capital-R Republican Party. The idea of “republican values” and “Republican values” are two very distinct concepts. The same goes for other political parties as well. For instance, traditionally libertarian stances may or may not be the official stance of the Libertarian Party. Capital “L” vs. small “l” and all. As an example, I feel like I’ve been leaning more libertarian in my own views as I’ve gotten older, but I generally don’t pay much attention to the Libertarian Party. I like to tell people that I am a leftist, but a liberal, I ain’t.
In any event, the rest of this entry refers to the versions of these terms with capital letters, because I’ve pretty much covered the small-letter versions of these concepts as much as I need to for our purposes.
As far as use of the wrong terms goes, I mostly see it coming from Republican politicians and Republican-leaning pundits, directed at the Democratic Party, mostly because there are two closely-related terms to refer to the Democratic Party and people associated with it: “Democratic” and “Democrat”. Most often, I see the improper use of the term take the form of referring to the Democratic Party as the “Democrat Party” and Democratic politicians as “Democrat politicians”. You don’t get this so much towards Republicans because the same term is used to refer to people and the organization. Members of the Republican Party are typically referred to as Republicans. About the only different terminology there is the “Grand Old Party” moniker, typically abbreviated as GOP, and pronounced as “G-O-P”, i.e. as the letters, rather than as something rhyming with “mop”.
What is the point where elected officials have killed their credibility?
10 minute read
November 18, 2021, 11:41 AM
Starting Saturday, November 20, Montgomery County, Maryland implements mask mandate number three. This is based on rules that the Montgomery County council, sitting as the Board of Health, determined in August and October, where seven consecutive days of “substantial” COVID-19 transmission by CDC guidelines (50-100 cases per 100,000 people), based on raw case counts, automatically triggers an indoor mask mandate, and seven consecutive days of “moderate” COVID-19 transmission by CDC guidelines (fewer than 50 cases per 100,000 people), again based on raw case counts, automatically rescinds an indoor mask mandate. This continues until 85% of the county’s population is fully vaccinated against COVID-19. The result of this auto-on, auto-off policy has been a yo-yo effect, where it’s masks one week and no masks the next.
For some history on this, the Montgomery County government first implemented a mask mandate in April 2020, not long before the governor issued a statewide mask mandate. That mandate was rescinded in May 2021 when everyone else did after the CDC said that fully vaccinated people didn’t need to wear masks anymore. When the county had reached a 50% vaccination rate, they abandoned their own COVID rules and began following the state’s guidance instead, which included no more masks and a full reopening of everything. Then in August, after the CDC revised its guidance again, and the county council watched as case numbers went up, Montgomery County started implementing its own rules again separate from the state, and brought back the mask mandate. The idea was that the mask mandate would last until there were seven consecutive days of “moderate” transmission, after which time it would automatically be rescinded. This happened in late October, and the mask mandate was rescinded effective Thursday, October 28.
Right after this is where they started to shoot their credibility, and it demonstrates what is wrong with looking at raw case numbers as a metric for determining public policy. On October 30, two days after the mandate was rescinded, they were already talking about reinstating the mask mandate, as they soon returned to “substantial” transmission territory, and announced a return to masks less than a week after they were rescinded, to be effective on Wednesday, November 3 (i.e. six days from rescission to reimplementation).
Categories: COVID-19, DC area local news, Montgomery County, Reddit, State and local politics
Virginia governor’s race? Not at all surprised…
7 minute read
November 3, 2021, 4:17 PM
On the evening of November 3, I, like so many others, checked in on the various news websites to learn that Republican Glenn Youngkin had defeated Democrat and former governor Terry McAuliffe in the Virginia gubernatorial election. I saw this result, and I was like… meh. The pundits all said it would be close, and the results seem to bear that out, with Youngkin’s winning with 50.9%, McAuliffe’s coming in with 48.4%, with Princess Blanding, who was running on a “Liberation” ticket, taking the remaining 0.7%. In any event, it seems like Youngkin did his homework and pulled it out. It seemed like he had the better campaign overall, while McAuliffe tended to run on, “Hey, remember me? I’m not Donald Trump. I was also your governor back in 2014, and I’d love to have another go at it!” In other words, while McAuliffe may have done his homework in 2013 and come out on top, the same can’t really be said for 2021. I also did quite a bit of traveling through various areas of Virginia during the last few months of the campaign, and I saw way more campaign signs for Youngkin in my travels than I did McAuliffe signs, to the point where seeing a McAuliffe sign in my travels was noteworthy.
Terry McAuliffe’s win in 2013 was unusual because it broke the pattern of Virginia’s voting opposite of the president’s party. Virginia, along with New Jersey, votes for its governor in what is called an “off-year election“, the year after the presidential election. Since Barack Obama had been reelected president in 2012, by the usual Virginia pattern, Republican Ken Cuccinelli should have won. I would suggest that people just didn’t want to vote for someone like Cuccinelli, because based on the public statements that I’d heard him make as attorney general, I had long come to the conclusion that he was nuts.
In any case, the pattern is well-established. Looking through the list of governors of Virginia, the trend of voting opposite the president has been the case since 1977, when Republican John Dalton was elected governor while Democrat Jimmy Carter was in the White House. That followed two other Republican governors that were elected following Nixon victories in the 1968 and 1972 presidential elections, which followed 80 straight years of Democratic control of the governor’s office. Following Dalton’s tenure, there were three more Democratic governors, which corresponded with the Reagan and Bush presidencies. Then there were two more Republicans that corresponded with the Clinton presidency, and then two more Democrats that corresponded with the George W. Bush presidency. The pattern then continued in 2009 with a Republican for Obama’s first term, and then McAuliffe broke the pattern in 2013 during Obama’s second term. After that, the governorship fell right back into the pattern, with a Democrat’s being elected in 2017 while Republican Donald Trump was in the White House. And now the pattern continues, with a Democratic president in Joe Biden, and a Republican governor’s being elected in Virginia.
Categories: State and local politics, Virginia
Strange what people will latch onto sometimes…
4 minute read
June 26, 2021, 10:10 AM
It’s funny what things people lock onto, take out of context, and run with in the age of the Internet. I remember when my Code Pink photo in front of the White House became a discussion about President Obama and the 2012 election. That made enough sense, because while it was a different context than the original one, it was still in the same vein, being anti-war and all. More recently, though, a very old photo of mine was dusted off by a certain crowd and run in a completely different context than intended. Remember this photo?
Categories: COVID-19, Politics, Project Chanology
I believe that we have finally reached the other side of this thing…
23 minute read
May 25, 2021, 9:37 PM
On Friday, May 14, 2021, a number of state governments rescinded emergency orders requiring the wearing of face masks in public for people who have had all of their shots for COVID-19, i.e. “fully vaccinated”, on the heels of earlier announcements providing dates for when nearly all COVID restrictions would be removed. And with that, I think that it is safe to say that we’re finally on the other side of the COVID-19 pandemic, and that life will return to normal. Ever since the middle of March 2020, when the response to a novel coronavirus started becoming out of proportion to the actual threat, and fear began driving the narrative, I’ve been looking forward to this time, when the world finally started returning to normal.
Truth be told, I took a dim view of the official response to this thing from the beginning. From the outset, my stance has been that almost all of these various “precautions” were unnecessary, and that the best advice for the public was (A) wash your hands at frequent intervals, and (B) be careful about how much you touch your face. This is the same advice that we give about nearly every communicable disease, and it’s served us quite well. I didn’t see any reason why this one should have been any different. Lockdowns, social distancing, masks, limits on gathering sizes, closed restaurants, closed drinking fountains, plexiglass shields, one-way aisles, contactless everything, the constant cleaning and “sanitizing”, temperature checks, and all of the rest of it is all just security theater, i.e. “the practice of taking security measures that are intended to provide the feeling of improved security while doing little or nothing to achieve it.” In other words, these measures were there primarily to placate a certain vocal subset of people who were afraid, and their fear was then projected onto the rest of us. In the end, though, as long as there was no vaccine for it, there was nothing that most of us could reasonably do to prevent its transmission. It was a problem that was beyond most of our capabilities to solve. With that in mind, I wasn’t worried about it, and trusted that the scientists whose job it was to solve it would come through. For the rest of us, there was only one single action that was “doing our part”. That action was getting vaccinated against COVID-19 when it became available. Nothing else made a bit of difference. But until that time came when a vaccine was available, we just had to wait.
Unfortunately, though, we all know how much people hate to be told that they have to wait for something to be solved, and can’t do anything about it in the meantime – especially when they’re scared. And for a mass hysteria event, we apparently just can’t have that. Unfortunately, telling people to wait doesn’t look good for politicians, whose constituents will demand that something be done about it after the media has whipped them up into a frenzy – especially during an election year when many of them were trying to keep their jobs. You know that people would practically crucify any elected official who got up and said, “I’m sorry, but there is really nothing in my power that I can do to solve this at this time. Until a vaccine becomes available, we just have to wait.” So, instead, they pander to the masses, going out and doing things that make it look like they’re doing something, i.e. security theater. When they make it look like they’re doing something, the masses eat it right up. They stepped in and shut down businesses (and destroyed many people’s livelihoods in the process – see my Gordmans entry), enforced social distancing rules on everyone, and required masks. Everyone was impacted in some way, and it sure looked like something was being done while we waited. Especially with the use of mask mandates, they put the pandemic in your face – and on your face – all the bloody time. As far as the politicians were concerned, mission accomplished.
Categories: COVID-19, National politics, News, Social media, State and local politics
I could have told you that was going to happen…
6 minute read
February 14, 2021, 4:48 PM
So the story of former president Donald Trump’s second impeachment has come to an end. And it ended exactly as I predicted, with Trump’s being acquitted by a comfortable margin. While a majority of senators did vote to convict, it did not reach the two-thirds majority (i.e. 67 votes) required to remove. I am always a little bit amused to see people watch the whole process, including the chatter from the various senators involved telling the media how they are going to vote, and then act all surprised when a conviction does not happen. Truth is that a conviction was never going to happen. The Democrats didn’t have enough votes to convict without substantial Republican support, and they knew that going into this.
And to this I say, sometimes, I hate being right. I admit that I was rooting for a conviction on this, even though I knew it didn’t have a snowball’s chance of ever happening (hey, one can hope). But I also stand by what I said in my earlier post that an impeachment was unnecessary. With Trump’s having fewer than two weeks left in his term when the triggering event occurred, it would have made enough sense to just wait it out and let the prosecutors have at him as soon as he left office. As it happened, the entire impeachment charade was a moot point, because Trump was already out of office. The whole thing also showed me that the Democrats under Pelosi seem to be extremely petty, and it has lent some credence to the idea that they were simply out to get Trump, throwing everything at the wall to see what would stick. This was their second attempt at removing Trump from office within the span of a year, after all. Practically speaking, you really only get one shot at impeachment, because after that, you start to sound like the proverbial boy who cried wolf, and shoot your own credibility with every subsequent attempt.
In addition, this whole impeachment charade has cost us much in terms of legislative time wasted in both chambers for political games. There are people who are hurting pretty badly right now due to the economic effects of the pandemic, and the time spent impeaching and then trying Trump could have been spent working on economic stimulus packages and other measures to help people survive until things turn around. After all, let’s be honest: politically, Trump is old news. He’s no longer the president, and as such, he is no longer relevant as far as current politics goes, and as such, Congress has more important matters to attend to than to worry about getting revenge on him.
Categories: National politics
So what’s the point of impeaching at this juncture?
4 minute read
January 25, 2021, 9:37 PM
First of all, I am happy to breathe a sigh of relief that Donald Trump is no longer the president. A four-year mistake is over, and the grown-ups are back in charge. I look forward to hearing what happens in the White House now that people who are actually halfway competent at governing are running the show again. I hope that the next four years see the country do exceptionally well, and I hope that the Biden administration succeeds beyond everyone’s wildest dreams.
However, there is one lingering matter remaining from the Trump administration: an impeachment trial. After the whole storming of the Capitol on January 6, the House of Representatives impeached Trump for inciting an insurrection, and that was the status quo when he left office on the 20th. Then-Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell declined to expedite a trial, and so it became the case that Trump’s second impeachment trial would occur after he had already left office. Considering that Trump is now out of office, the only thing that could be accomplished through the impeachment process would be to disqualify him from holding office again in the future, and I really question the necessity of going through an entire impeachment process to accomplish that.
I freely admit that I opposed this impeachment, because impeachment is a process that has only a single sanction, just like the University of Virginia’s honor system: if convicted, you’re removed from office. Therefore, going through the impeachment process feels like a waste of time, since, as we saw, Trump’s term expired before the impeachment process was completed, and therefore, it’s now a moot point. With Trump out of office, nothing changes, regardless of the outcome of the impeachment trial. For what it’s worth, I would have been perfectly content in just ignoring Trump for the final two weeks of his term, and then letting his term expire on January 20. I also am convinced that Trump has trashed whatever credibility that he might have still had with the storming of the Capitol, and I suspect that because of that, most people wouldn’t vote for him for dogcatcher, let alone the President of the United States. Therefore, an impeachment trial of the former president seems like it would prevent us from moving forward and putting the Trump era behind us, at least as far as our politics go.
Categories: National politics
And they thought a little graffiti was bad back then…
5 minute read
January 10, 2021, 11:42 AM
I was recently participating in a comment thread on the Staunton News Leader‘s Facebook page about the arrest and charging of Jake Angeli, one of the more prominent figures to participate in the storming of the Capitol on January 6. Most the comments praised the arrest, while some other comments amused me thoroughly. One comment claimed that it was not Trump supporters who came to DC, but rather, it was “antifa”. That comment reminded me of how little many right-wingers understand about what antifa is, and it made me laugh. Recall that I used to do a lot of antifa back in my day (though the common use of the term “antifa” postdates my participation), so I know a little something about it. The thing that amuses me most is when people think that it’s an actual organization, because trust me, it is most definitely not. For those not familiar, the term “antifa” is short for “anti-fascist”, and if a bunch of people assemble and decide that they want to call themselves “antifa”, then they are antifa, and it’s over at the end of the event. It’s really not that complicated. There is no real organization to it, and people don’t answer to anyone at some headquarters.
But that commenter’s attempt to pin the whole thing on “antifa” reminded me of an event that happened back in January 2007, nearly 14 years ago. Back then, at an anti-war protest (which I documented here under the title “J27 Anti-War Demonstration“), an affinity group of sorts, comprised mostly of people wearing black clothing and masks, i.e. a black bloc (which many might call “antifa” today), broke away from the mainstream march and headed up to the United States Capitol. The group made it as far as the bottom of the steps, where Capitol Police was standing to prevent further movement. No effort was made to go past them, and as far as I know, the bloc was content with that. While we were there, a few people pulled out some spray paint cans and left some tags on the sidewalk in front of the steps of the Capitol.
Categories: Activism, Black bloc, DC area local news, National politics