History – Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3

Treading Through the Storms

Rough weather on all fronts still ahead.

Those blobs on weather radar maps that blanketed vast amounts of the U.S this past weekend felt not just predictive, but also somewhat defining. The traditional red and blue color schemes signaling rough weather almost hinted at our political and social divisions, reminding those that pay attention that Mother Nature doesn’t pick sides when she chooses to show her wrath.

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And she’s tossing a torrent in this, our winter of discontent. Weather, politics, culture and technology all seem to be conspiring to obscure our view in a swirling tempest that chills to the bone, while boiling the blood.

We’ve all seen movies where folks get lost in winter terrain during a storm and can’t find their bearings. It feels like we’re all in that movie, or maybe it’s a stultified streaming series, given how it just keeps stringing us along and clogging up the queue, long after we’ve figured out the formula.

But this is a tortuous tempest. Minneapolis murders. Booting Bovino (or not?) Now US owned TikTok being more ruthless censoring than the Chinese. The gun nuts prematurely treading all over their cherished 2nd amendment, only to retreat after the muzzle blew up in their faces with the shots they just fired. Tim Cook continuing to debase himself and Apple by attending the Melania premiere at the White House. ICE here, there, and everywhere including the Winter Olympics. Consumer confidence hitting a 12-year low. The Doomsday Clock moving closer to midnight. Greenland. Venezuela. Canada. Europe. Iran.

Billy Joel in his heyday would have a rough time chronicling all that’s currently swirling in this winter’s winds for a new version of We Didn’t Start the Fire.

I’m not sure if we’ve reached a tipping point, but it feels like we’re closer to it than we have been since these idiots started shredding all of the life preservers and poking holes in the rowboats on their version of the Titanic. (Thanks for that reference J.D. Vance.)

They wanted to flood the zone with shit so that we couldn’t keep up. By and large they’ve succeeded to this point, but you can sense that the smell may be shifting. There’s chaos all over, but there’s just as much chaos in their inner sanctums as they try to trim sails to survive the storms they’ve created. Small victories add up. Take the wins when they happen and build on that.

It’s up to us to keep the pressure on, because if you’re relying on any of those lifeboats or life preservers (Congress, media, the business community) we’re all going to freeze before we go under with them.

It’s not going to happen overnight. There will be setbacks. It’s One Battle After Another. (Talk about a prescient film release.)

No one knows how this is going to end. No one knows when it’s going to end. No one knows what will be once it does end. But certainly it will end.

Rough weather still ahead. Uncharted waters in a storm. No horizon in sight.

Bundle up. Buckle up. Trust your own compass. Follow the lead of the good folks from Minneapolis causing good trouble. As my friend, David Todd McCarty says, Stand Your Ground.

(Photo by Viktor Mogilat on Unsplash)

You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.

History Is Often Unkind To Comparisons

Time to call a spade a spade

History is often unkind to comparisons. That’s nobody’s fault. No one can grasp the fullness of history well enough to appreciate and/or distinguish all of the references we use to shortcut how we view and label the mistakes we seem hell bent on repeating as we promise to never forget. It’s tougher still when we see children being kidnapped or chemical irritants sprayed at point blank range into someone’s eyes by government employees.

As an example, we conveniently shortcut our descriptions of the current administration’s abhorrent behavior masquerading as immigration enforcement. We call them Nazis. We liken their tactics to the Gestapo. In the face of the murders, kidnapping of children, brutalizing protestors, and lord knows what we don’t know about, I happen to agree with the comparison. It’s not just apt. It’s spot on.

But it’s incomplete.

Those comparisons actually cover up AND reveal a deeper history of sins that is not only particularly American, it’s what Hitler and his murderous henchmen adopted from us.

White Americans, in Hitler’s words, “gunned down the millions of Redskins to a few hundred thousand, and now kept the modest remnant under observation in a cage”

Hitler admired America’s appetite for America’s Manifest Destiny and how it justified the slaughter and displacement of Native Americans. His lawyers studied not only our laws regarding Native Americans, but also our Jim Crow laws, using them as references to draft the Nuremberg Laws that stripped Jews of Citizenship and prohibited interracial marriage.

The forces I think are evil want to erase much of American history, but even the forces that keep trying to array against them don’t recognize the Nazi labeling lineage as history we own a piece of.

The simple point I’m making is this: As we’re coming to grips with so much in these trying days let’s not look beyond ourselves and our own history to try and turn the monsters among us, who have always been among us, into something that removes our ownership of that history. In some ways, that’s the larger fight. We’re not fighting foes adopting some foreign tactics or playbook, we’re fighting our own peculiar history that we have never wanted to come to grips with. We’ve let it fester. Fought a war amongst ourselves over it and pretended we could turn the page, only to allow it to fester again and rise back up to haunt and hurt us all. Again.

When Irony Turns Historic Symbols On Their Head

Thus Always To Tyrants

Symbols, logos, insignias always have meaning. Certainly they do for their creators. For others they hold and take on meaning over time. Those that endure rarely take on a new and different significance. Often they just blend into the background unless they represent something that becomes contentious. We’ve all seen that happen in our lifetimes. But on occasion the fickle finger of irony points in a new direction.

I was born in Virginia, though I don’t live there now. The Commonwealth of Virginia’s symbol and motto Sic Semper Tyrannis (thus always to tyrants) took on a historically ironic meaning today with the swearing in of the Commonwealth’s first female governor, Abigail Spanberger. She’s taking office in what can only be called tempestuous times brought on us all by a tyrant. And it sounds like she’s up for the fight.

The seal and motto were first adopted in 1861 at the start of the American Civil War as Virginia seceded from the Union. For those, like myself, who think we’re currently living through the long delayed continuation of that conflict that’s been simmering since the fighting concluded, the twists and turns of history featuring the same female figure of virtue standing astride a fallen king symbolizing the defeat of tyranny for a state now led by a female governor is irony just too delicious to ignore.

I note that one of Governor Spanberger’s first acts was to veto the Executive Order that enabled Virginia’s participation in the program that allowed local law enforcement to act as ICE agents.

Here’s hoping there’s more of that to come from the new governor.

I Don’t Like This Day

Remembering January 6th Drives Me Into A Rage

I don’t like this day.

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Rather I don’t like the anniversary of this day, January 6th, what it reminds me of, and all that it has come to mean.

We still live in a country where we excuse those that pretend what happened didn’t actually happen and wasn’t caused by a delusional, sadistic, power hungry pedophile and his followers.

We live in a country where we’ve just blown past the fact that he was elected president again, pardoned all of those who attacked the U.S. capitol in his name, and continues, with far too much help from his guilty cohort of cowards, to fill the airwaves and digital world with enough obvious lies to choke a million mules.

I don’t like this day.

A few men could have stopped this madness from extending beyond this day. A few men who chose not to. It was in their grasp. If American history survives this madness their names should live in infamy. I’m not sure America or American history will, but I can’t wait to piss on their graves.

And now we now live in a world, not just a country, that he’s tearing apart piece by piece just because he can, so he and others can profit from it.

I don’t like this day.

It’s a despicable, unerasable orange stain on 250 years that already bear enough stains.

It’s a day that ripped open the secret underbelly filled with the hateful and hating beasts that have always lived among us and spilled those entrails all over the myths we clung to, falsely assuming they held us together.

I don’t like this day.

It’s a day that will haunt me the rest of those I have left and leaves me sick to my stomach and trembling with rage about the future.

It’s a day that makes me contemplate doing horrible things. It’s a day that makes me hate.

I don’t like this day. Rather, I hate this day.

Sunday Morning Reading

Hands on with playwrights, movies, smart toilets, and a discomforting rooster

Another Sunday. More snow overnight. More shoveling later. The holidays creep closer or perhaps they’re already here, given that grandpa mode has kicked into high gear. Started writing a new play out of the blue yesterday. I have no idea why, but it just tumbled out of my brain on to the screen via the keyboard. Time to share some Sunday Morning Reading. Read as you will, even if it’s on a smart toilet.

I often save the softer pieces for later in this column, but I’ll lead today with David Todd McCarty’s Christmas Means Comfort. Tell that to the rooster.

The world lost a treasure this week with the passing of architect Frank Gehry. Lee Bray writes a nice obituary and tribute. Check out Architect Frank Gehry Who Designed Millennium Park’s Pritzker Pavillion and Foot Bridge Dies at 96.

Samuel Beckett’s Hands is a terrific piece by Rob Tomlinson about, well it’s about Samuel Beckett’s hands and how Dupuytren’s contracture may have influenced not just how, but what he wrote, given that Beckett always begin his writing with pen and paper.

While I’m sharing stories about playwrights, the movie Hamnet is garnering lots of attention and accolades. (I haven’t seen it yet.) Based on Maggie O’Farrell’s excellent novel of the same name, Hamnet mostly follows accepted scholarship that William Shakespeare wrote Hamlet while grieving the death of his son, Hamnet. (At the time, the two names were practically interchangeable.) As with most things Shakespeare, there’s generally accepted knowledge and there are always those who challenge it. James Shapiro takes a look at The Long History of the Hamnet Myth.

And while I’m sharing stories about movies, take a look at Susan Morrison’s piece on How Noah Baumbach Fell (Back) In Love With The Movies.

I linked earlier this week to a piece by Phillip Bump called There Are Limits to the Hitler-Trump Comparison. Just Ask These Historians. I don’t disagree with the thesis. I just think it stops short in the way most history usually does.

Rory Rowan and Tristan Sturm write that Peter Thiel’s Apocalyptic Worldview Is A Dangerous Fantasy. Here’s hoping this first draft of our current history proves lasting.

There’s been much talk about all things military recently given how the current administration is tossing away most of what we believe the military stands for as easy as my grandson tosses away toy soldiers. Carrie Lee says The Soldier In The Illiberal State Is A Professional Dead End. I concur. Sadly.

In the wake of the cataclysm that was Twitter, social media is essentially a messy muddle these days with users continuing to migrate from one platform to another seeking some sort of place that feels comfortable enough to share and often discomfort others. Ian Dunt writes what he calls a love letter to one platform with Thank God for Bluesky.

Smart toilets were in the news this week. I actually got to see and use one at a Christmas party last night. All I could think about while doing my business was this piece by Victoria Song called Welcome To The Wellness Surveillance State.

And to conclude this week, Amogh Dimri informs us that the Oxford University Press has chosen Rage Bait as 2025’s Word of the Year. Dimiri thinks it’s a brilliant choice. I guess it begs the question, if we’re angry enough to rage, is it really baiting?

If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome.

Phillip Bump and Clumsy Nazi Comparisons

Not the time for historical nuance

Phillip Bump, a thinker and writer I greatly admire has an intriguing, yet troubling piece titled There Are Limits To The Hitler-Trump Comparison. Just Ask These Historians. I say troubling, not because I disagree with his points, but because I think it misses the larger one everyone is too afraid to acknowledge.

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It is intriguing on an intellectual level, and nuanced on several levels. But I hasten to say that we’re living in a moment without much room for nuance, and as for the intellectual part? I’m afraid we’re suffering losses there as well.

Looking to explore further whether or not the Trump administration’s use of anti-immigrant rhetoric could be compared to the Nazi movement, Bump reached out to several historians who “generally agree that while the comparison was imperfect, it was not completely unfair.” I urge you to read Bump’s column before continuing here.

I won’t argue with the callbacks to the history of America’s own xenophobia. Let’s remember where the Nazis claimed to get some of their ideas from. As a species we seem to be entirely incapable of finding news ways to diminish and dehumanize those we don’t like or want to scapegoat on the path to power. Nor will I argue that it depends on what part of the Nazi timeline you drop into when making comparisons.

I will say this.

While no one knows how any of this will turn out, the fact that we’re living through any resemblance, no matter how clumsy or incoherent it may be in comparison to past political movements here or abroad, should be more than enough to call us up short and put a stop to it.

Bump states:

So Trump’s allies have a point: Comparisons to Nazism, particularly the late-stage Nazism with which we are all familiar, are imperfect. The president’s administration mirrors that party’s ascent a century ago in other ways — its bullying, the collapse of opposition from the existing establishment — that sharpen the criticism. If it is on the same path forward, though, there is still a long way to go, and a lot of time to change direction.

The comparisons may indeed be imperfect. However, every time civilization has beaten back these ill winds it has had to do so imperfectly as well, having to stoop below many of the values we rallied to save in the name of those values.

There may indeed still be time for a change in direction. That said, I would argue that the longer the weak-kneed and cowardly capitulators let this go on, not only does that window of time close, but it makes it harder to pry back open even after all of the glass has been broken.

(Image from Claudio Divizia on Shutterstock)

Finishing Ken Burns’ The American Revolution

The series is complete. As a nation the question remains open.

We completed watching Ken Burn’s excellent The American Revolution this week. Thank goodness for streaming, allowing us to view it on our schedule. Two spoiler alerts. First, we won the war. Second, we’re still struggling with many of the differences that made the formation (and perhaps the continuation) of what would become the Untied States such a close thing.

The series is excellent and I highly recommend it. Burns and his team do their expected thorough job of researching and producing the documentary. We’re lucky there were so many letters written by those beneath the status of the cast of characters most of us could identify at a glance, because that material provides much of the content and texture inside the frame.

The production does it’s job so well that my hunch is some will come away learning things they never knew about a period of our history we’ve wrapped in so many myths it would keep troops at Valley Forge warm. I would also guess that in today’s political and social climate there will be far too many who tune out or don’t tune in because they prefer the comfort of the mythology.

Which is a damned shame. As I said in an earlier post about the series:

I’m not hearing things differently, but I’m hearing how folks can take their own meaning out of many of the things written and said during that period that led to this country’s founding. History may indeed rhyme, but it also echoes. Often in strange ways.

If you have followed any of Burns’ work you know his approach to American history is to tell the parts of stories we leave out of the picture. I grew up in a part of the country where you could turn your head left or right, spit, and hit the history of the American Revolution or the Civil War. I count myself lucky that my 10th grade history teacher kept reminding us that there was so much more to discover about our past than he had the time to teach us, planting a seed of curiosity that continues to grow inside of me to this day decades later.

Ken Burns and his team continue to keep that curiosity growing. We should all be grateful and unafraid that they do so.

Read ’em. Maybe Weep. Maybe Get Pissed Off. But Read ’em

Blood, some boiling, some cold, but killer writing.

Life on the Wicked Stage readers will be familiar with the Sunday Morning Reading column wherein I share good writing and interesting topics. Sometimes things fly across my radar after I’ve published the week’s column. Three pieces hit and hit hard late on Sunday after the Chicago Bears continued a mysterious, but gratifying winning streak. I’m going to share those stories here, on a Monday. The writing is too hot to let cool, and the subject matter burns even hotter.

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First up, is an excellent piece by Will Bunch called The Night America’s Doomed Ruling Glass Gorged On Lamb, Blood, and Oil. Bunch puts the elite on the menu and carves them up with a bone saw.

Next, check out Anand Girdhardas’ excellent How The Elite Behave When No One Is Watching: Inside the Epstein Emails. A vivisection that exposes what we all imagine.

Finally, read Tatiana Schlossberg’s A Battle With My Blood. A Kennedy family member, dying of incurable blood cancer eloquently tells her story, and ours.

You might think these pieces tilt into the category of just another round of depressing news and commentary. Partly that’s true. But it’s a small part for small minds. I find each of them reassuring. Reassuring that smart people, spilling words like blood on digital paper, can pour out the pain we’re all living through personal pain of their own, and decipher the day-to-day charades even as the current deadly and dangerous game continues.

I’d say the writing is courageous, but that’s obvious. The real courage comes in reading what’s written and paying enough attention to make it matter. Perhaps sharing them around this Thanksgiving week when we give thanks for our blessings with family and friends. Especially those we disagree with.

Be thankful. Be courageous.

(Image from Militarist on Shutterstock)

Sunday Morning Reading

Art matters. If you listen.

It’s another Sunday in this insane world, so it’s time for some Sunday Morning Reading. It won’t cure what ails you, or the world. But there are those who are listening. Listen as you read.

Aren’t You Tired Of Feeling Insane All The Time? Marie Le Conte asks that question. I’m not sure anyone can plug the hole in that boat, but acknowledging that we’re sinking is the first step.

David Todd McCarty tackles The Lost Art of Listening.

NatashaMH recently launched an exhibition of her art. Launching anything can take life out of you, launching any display of art exacts even more of the soul than it does the physical being. But as she says in The Social Life of Art, “art demands resilience, and resilience demands a sense of humor.”

I wrote a bit this week about what Mark Leydorf has to say about The Rise of Resistance Cinema In The Era of Trump. It’s worth highlighting his piece again here.

I’ve been watching the Apple TV series Pluribus with great curiosity. If nothing else, the show echoes Mr. McCarty’s opening to his piece linked above. (Warning. Don’t watch the show with my wife.) Dani Di Placido thinks he’s got it all figured out in What Is ‘Pluribus’ Really About? Perhaps he does. I’m not so sure. I’m also not sure the show’s success or failure relies on figuring it out in the end.

I’ve been linking to some of the goings on at The Kennedy Center under this corrupt administration. Trust me when I say what’s happening there is causing shock waves across board rooms in arts institutions across the country as everyone looks to uncertain and unknown futures with no script to follow. It’s affecting the art. It’s affecting the business of art. It will affect the art in ways we can’t begin to imagine. Janay Kingsberry examines how Senate Democrats Are Investigating Kennedy Center’s Deals And Spending.

Most of the links this week touch on the arts in one way or the other. In a way this tech topic does as well, given that so many want to turn emoji’s into some form of art. Benji Edwards examines the origins of this move back to hieroglyphics with the piece, In 1982, A Physics Gone Wrong Sparked The Invention Of The Emoticon. Art by accident often is the art that sticks.

(Image by Roman Kraft on Unsplash)

Penny Wise and Pound Foolish

A nickel for your thoughts?

If you’ve got some pennies hanging around in a piggy bank or coin collection you might want to hang on to them. Yesterday, November 12th, the U.S. Mint minted the last round of pennies.

The penny has been tossed across sales counters and burned holes in pockets for 238 years, but apparently it cost almost four cents to make one, which certainly seems like a losing proposition.

Not to worry though. If you’re not sentimental about the coin, it will still be considered legal tinder. Although some retailers are looking to round things up to the nearest nickel to avoid having to deal with them.

As for the “pound foolish’ part of this post’s headline, if retailers do follow through on rounding prices up any savings generated by no longer printing pennies will probably be outweighed by the costs of printing more nickels, which costs substantially more than printing a penny.

Setting aside the costs, somehow “a nickel for your thoughts” and “nickels from heaven” just don’t sing the way the originals do.