In Need Of…Anger Management

On Wednesday, I pulled up an entry I wrote in December 2012 about America’s mental fascination with guns and violence.

We haven’t a learned a thing about it. When I looked at the stats, a total of 31 people clicked on the blog to read the post.

Thirty-one. Five years since it was written.

Nevertheless, I’ll link this entry again, this time with some added observations below.

It has become unnerving to read the many narratives, the dismissal of narratives, and the over-emotional shaming that people have resorted to on social media about the latest incident in Florida. The listed reasons are plenty.

“It’s a parenting problem.”

“It’s mental illness”

“Gun control”

“Angry white male”

“The boys are not all right (this from the NYT op/ed piece)

I got news for all of you…it’s not one specific thing.

It’s everything.

Parenting, gun control, isolation, disconnection, bullying, labeling, and on and on.

All of the vitriol is a perfect storm. How we behave, think, and view others and the world around us is predicated on how we react.

We are a bunch of angry people, plain and simple. 

The common denominator to all of this is anger.

When I sift through all of the factors, it isn’t too hard to see.

Being angry about anything that sets us off.

Anger didn’t occur when the gunmen were able to get access to guns. It started in the classroom, in the home, the office, where ever.

It started with the kids. There are kids who are bullied, picked on, slighted, and ignored, because they are different

Adults, on a daily basis bully, harass, and demean other adults. At work, in the store, and on the streets. In the bar, at a concert, and in front of the kids. Kids pick up the traits of their parents. If a parent was a bully in school, it’s likely their children will be one. If a parent was picked on at school, their children is likely to emulate their parents, or become bully themselves.

It’s about control and a self-sense of power.

When adults and kids are made fun of, bullied, and rejected, the resentment grows to where there are two ways to resolve it: internalize it, drive themselves out of control, and give up…

…or lash out as a means of revenge. “I’ll show them. No one will laugh/harass/talk about me like that anymore.” The seeds of violence were already planted before the irreversible decision to walk into a hallway and open fire.

MSDFADO EC007
Michael Douglas, as William Foster, in “Falling Down” (1992). (Cineplex)

Anyone remember the movie “Falling Down” starring Michael Douglas? Douglas played William Foster, an unemployed defense worker, on his way to visit to his daughter’s birthday party at his ex-wife’s house. He encounters a series of events, trivial or provocative, that sets him off and he goes on a shooting spree. This is where the “white male anger” narrative got tossed around for the first time.

The “angry white male” narrative, though prevalent, has given way to people of all walks of life feeling like William Foster. The real narrative is that we are angry. Whites, blacks, Hispanics, Asians, lesbians, straight, man, woman, and child.

Everyone is angry as hell about everything.

Angry about a breakup, being fired, being laughed at, losing a game, facing discrimination. Angry over an election didn’t go their way, a tweet, an opinion…

Everyone’s pissed off about something.

Most of us don’t know how to handle our anger. Some of are not violent, but we go on social media to attack people as a way to unload our anger. The scary part, as sports talk show host Steve Czaban pointed out (48:10 mark), it’s smart educated people with good jobs and lives who turn into monsters behind a keyboard, going apeshit about anything that sets them off daily, small or big.

The “dark side” of social media is an expose of people who feel that they are losing control of the world around them and feel the need to say whatever they want, without filters. They forget that there are consequences with words and actions. It doesn’t matter if they are white or black.

These are the people who have lost all sense of reality. Demeaning those who are not as smart as they are (anti-intellectualism), labeling others for having opinions that are not aligned with theirs, and shaming people for small or egregious mistakes.

This stood out to me in that blog: “We can pass tougher laws, but making it harder to prevent the wrong people from having them isn’t going to stop them.” We can’t stop all wars, robberies, and murders , and we can’t stop all violence, unless we don’t look at how mentally screwed up we are in our actions and behavior.

The above tweet was at the heart of my counseling session this week. I overheard my therapist and the office manager talking about the past week’s events. I felt comfortable enough to tell my therapist my thoughts about all of this. I’ll get to this tweet later on.

Thank goodness I’m not telling this to an irrational emotional angry person who will fly off the handle without giving it an opinion a considerable thought.

In reviewing that 2012 blog, I brought up something that should be of concern: our mental fascination on using guns as a way to resolve our problems. Breakup with your girlfriend? Hunt her down with a gun. Lose your job? Shoot up the workplace. Get bullied and treated like a misfit? Gun down the jocks and the homecoming queen. Someone spill a drink on you at the bar? Walk out to you car, and come back “packing heat.”

How can we be a nation that want gun control, and yet when we go to the movies or watch television, we celebrate and glorify the bad guy who gets shot up or a machine gun takes out a fighter jet? Our need to have a weapon in our hands gives our ego and confidence a boost. 

Which leads me to repost a important scene from the comedy movie “Friday”. Craig (Ice Cube) tells his dad (John Witherspoon) that he is carrying a gun to protect his pal Smokey from being roughed up.  Craig’s dad shakes his head, and tells his son that there is another way to protect himself and to resolve a conflict.

We’re so quick to pick up a gun to resolve problems in this society. When was the last time you witnessed two people squaring up to settle something…with their hands?  “You win some and you lose some, but you live to see another day.”

The tweet above is very important to me. I have battled mental illness for a better part of 25 years. While I do think that there are individuals with mental illness who are likely to commit violent acts, there is a difference between “mental illness” and “mental health.” Mental illness is a condition that a person has that affects them. Mental health, in general, is how we mentally view things and act upon those feelings and actions.

America has a mental health problem with gun violence, and violence in general. We see it as the ONLY way to end a dispute, get revenge, and feel good about it.

All because we are angry about everything. People makes us angry, issues makes us angry, that damn remote control that doesn’t work propels us to hurl that against a wall.

A former colleague posted on Facebook that that he’s tired of being told to “calm” down about the latest school shootings. It took a lot of restraint from me not to reply back. Only because I do not want anyone to tell me that I need to show “anger” about something I can not control. I understand his anguish, but that is not how I deal with a sensitive topic like this one. I need time to process the information, look at it in a calm manner, and then offer a thought.

In which I did by typing this entry. Flesh out what I know to this point, read and understand it, and write my observations.

I don’t know everything. Neither do you.

I am in counseling because I have internalized being slighted, discriminated, and being verbally abused for most of my life. When I was younger, I was prone to losing my temper. Later on in my life, I kept all of that miserable crap to myself. I had no outlet to unload my anger.

I was too afraid that my anger could do harm to myself and others.

I had to find help. I made a choice, as an adult, to get help. Kids are not that lucky.

By hearing the stories my niece tells me about junior high today, I understand why students in today’s schools are stressed, disillusioned, and angry. Many resort to going online to find a community that accepts them for who they are when those in real life (IRL) rejects them. Then when those online starts to reject them, they are faced with “fight or flight”. Some will take their own lives (flight) to end the bullying. Other commit acts of violence against others (fight) to stop it.

The adults experienced those feelings as well. Who uses Facebook or Twitter more?  Adults. Who gets upset more easily? Adults? Who refuses to get help?  Yeah…you got it.

There is no middle ground.

That’s where we need to start at, whether anyone wants to or not.

The middle ground when it comes to understanding how to handle our anger and stop taking it out on others and on ourselves in a destructive manner.

Which is far too often these days.

 

Advertisements

Murder and Fire: A Dark Night

Murder and Fire: A Dark Night

Headline

My dad walked into the house on the evening of January 10, 1983. The week before, I turned seven years old. I don’t recall what I did on my birthday, only that I had cake and ice cream while watching the Rose Bowl. It was a yearly tradition for me.

Dad came through the garage into the kitchen with a stunned look on his face. Mom was in the kitchen prepping dinner. She noticed his face. She asked him what was going on.

“I can’t believe it. Al Davidson was shot and killed a half-hour ago,”  Dad said.

I was watching television in the spacious living room in our house on the corner of Logan Avenue (U.S. Highway 63) and Arlington Street. Overhearing the dad’s announcement, I flipped the channel from Iowa Public Television to KWWL. Live cameras were at the scene in front of the Russell Lamson Hotel Building off of W. 5th Street. The popular Brown Bottle restaurant was on the first floor and apartments and offices were on the 2nd floor and above.

Map
Map diagram drawing of the location of the slaying of Alvin Davidson (Waterloo Courier)

An olive colored tarp covered what it looked a body in front of the main entrance into the Russell Lamson. Crutches were to the left of the tarp.

Thirty-five years ago tonight, the body of Black Hawk County Public Defender Alvin Davidson lie on the cold concrete ground as a crowd gathered around the block, bewildered of what they were seeing.

Alvin Davidson was an assistant public defender for Black Hawk County. Davidson was best known as the man who defended James Michael “T-Bone” Taylor in the trial, he was convicted in, for the double slaying of two Waterloo police officers in July 1981.

Noted as a calm and knowledgeable public defender, he was well-regarded in the courtroom by county attorneys, judges, and other within the local legal circle.

While his execution-style slaying stunned the Cedar Valley and Iowa, the circumstances that led to his death could have been ripped from a Hollywood movie script.

Months earlier, his brother-in-law, Jay Hollins attempted to run over his ex-wife, Sears Lockett. Davidson was at the scene when Hollins arrived. Both exchanged gunfire during the incident. Hollins was scheduled to go on trial in February 1983. Davidson was not only slated to testify, but he was also facing charges in connection with the shootout with Hollins. Davidson was carrying a concealed weapon without a permit. What made things more sticky was that Davidson and his wife, Virginia, had separated.

Virginia was also a public defender for Black Hawk County…and was Jay Hollins’ sister.

Hollins’ brother, Jan, was in jail facing charges of attempted murder. He shot Davidson in the foot on October 4, 1982, hence the crutches on the ground next to Davidson’s body in the picture above.

Davidson TBone
Al Davidson (right) with Dean Olson, walking from the federal courthouse in Council Bluffs, Iowa in October 1981 during the James “T-Bone” Taylor trial. Taylor was convicted of the slayings of Waterloo police officers Michael Hoing and Wayne Rice. (Waterloo Courier archive file photo)

A tangled web was unfolding.

On January 3, 1982, Jay called up Ronald “Joe” Brown to come to Waterloo. Brown met with Hollins and Ennis Montgomery. The meeting was to plan on finishing what Jan Hollins tried to accomplish…kill Alvin Davidson. After days of monitoring Davidson’s routine and schedule, Hollins, Brown, and Montgomery were set.

On Monday, January 10th, Davidson left the courthouse and drove towards the Russell Lamson Hotel, where he was temporarily living after separating from Virginia. Earlier in the day, the three suspects did a dry run practice of how to go with their plans.

The suspects pulled up in a van in the alley between Central Battery & Electric and the hotel. Davidson walked up to the main entrance, when Brown, dressed in an Army coat, blue jeans, and a ski mask, pulled out a shotgun, aimed it at the side of Davidson’s face and fired at point-blank.

After Davidson collapsed and died instantly, the suspects fled in the van. Brown took a bus to Des Moines and fled to Arizona. After an investigation and search, Hollins, Montgomery, and Brown were arrested and put on trial. Montgomery took a plea deal and testified against Hollins and Brown. Hollins and Brown were convicted of first degree murder.

Slaying pic
A blanket covers the body of Alvin Davidson, assistant Black Hawk County public defender in front of the Russell Lamson Building, January 10, 1983. (Waterloo Courier archive/Mike Weber)

The T-Bone Taylor police slaying and manhunt captivated many, including me, however the Davidson slaying was so unreal and jaw-dropping, and a bit sordid, it took me years to understand the events that led to the slaying and the aftermath. Frankly put, it was a murder-for-hire amid a very messy family situation, that made this story fascinating and tragic.

The surrealism of having two publicized slayings within an 18-month period in your hometown sounds inconceivable.

Then again, anything bad can happen.

(Note: credit to be given to the website “The Dark Side of America”/“The Dark Side of Iowa” for the details of the case, and to the Waterloo Courier. It always helps when you keep newspaper archives in your possession to reference to when you need it.) 


Hours later, in the early morning hours of January 11th, the Cedar Falls Fire Department received a phone call. A building was on fire. Not just any building. The popular Simpson’s Furniture store on Main Street was ablaze.

Snow flurries fell as the Cedar Falls, Waterloo, and Waverly fire departments battled in the cold brisk wind to end the fire. It was largest fire in Cedar Falls history since old Gilchrist Hall at UNI burned down in May 1972. What made the Simpson’s fire unique was that it was a Cedar Falls institution. The original Simpson’s was a total loss, but they rebuilt and continued to be in business until 2016 when the store closed and reopened as a national retailer under a different company.

Two events, 12 hours apart. A cold night.

A cold dark night.

Nobody Won. Stop Acting Like We’ve Won.

I have watched, from afar, the outrage over sexual harassment in America.

And, par for the course, the real message got lost in the silliness.

I have a few things to say and I’ll go back to reading a book about baseball.

First of all, the people who are celebrating Roy Moore’s defeat in Alabama need to remember something….nobody won. Doug Jones may have been elected senator, but there were no winners.

Why?

Because Americans have refused to seriously have a conversation about how we view sexual harassment. Trying to politicize and rationalize sexual harassment is the biggest bunch of bullshit going right now…along with race and gender. No one wants to talk about it….only to use shame and outrage as an easy way to make a statement.

And no, Americans did not do the right thing. Americans did not vote in the Alabama senate race. The people of Alabama did. Take your pontificating heads out of your asses, America.

Sanity did not win, as many on my Facebook were posting.

We still lost.

Republicans and Democrats, and the people who fall on either side have chosen to ignore what is the real issue: how do we address sexual harassment and improper behavior.

We didn’t win shit, folks.

We still lost.

Much ado about a pithy ass election to point fingers. Start pointing the fingers at yourselves, along with me.

“Leading Quietly” in a (Very) Loud World

“Leading Quietly” in a (Very) Loud World

“I’m not a leader.” 

Everyone aspires to be a leader. We read leadership books, take leadership classes, and search for mentors and sponsors who display and exudes “strong leadership”.

I’ve done all three things noted above, except finding a mentor or a sponsor. For some odd reason, I do feel “lost” about leadership. I don’t feel I am worthy of being called a leader. I am not the bold, loud, and dynamic type that most people dream to be.

Or is that a good thing?

I recently read “Quiet Power” by Susan Cain and “Leading Quietly” by Joseph L. Badaracco Jr.. In “Quiet Power”, Cain explores the ideas and skills that young introverts can utilize at school and home. The book is a great reference for adults who struggle with finding where they fit in the world as introverts.

Badaracco, in “Leading Quietly”, writes that our view of a leader usually falls under the archetype of  “hero”, and these heroes’ larger-than-life accomplishments is not what makes the world work. It is the individuals who make small yet meaningful decisions in areas away from the limelight each day.

introverted-leaders-mentors-meeting-march-20-2015-v2-12-638
Courtesy of Karl Moore, Associate Professor, McGill University Associate Fellow, Green Templeton College, Oxford University

These “quiet leaders” are people who choose responsible, behind-the-scenes action over being a public hero to resolve tough leadership challenges. Quiet leaders don’t fit the stereotype of the bold and gutsy leader, and they don’t want to. What they want is to do the “right thing” and in the “best interests” for their organizations, their coworkers, and themselves–but inconspicuously and without casualties.

My cousin, who works in higher education, commented, after interacting with a student,

“Introverts are leaders too”.

That statement made me reflect on the difficulties of viewing myself  as a leader.

I don’t consider myself a leader. I am a quiet person who observes and internally process things as they take place. Whether it’s in a meeting or at a party, I see and think about almost everything that intrigues me.

I am stickler for guidelines though I can flexible when bending the rules (slightly) are necessary. Though I never felt I had the confidence to be a dynamic leader. I lead by doing my job. In Badaracco’s view, I am “leading quietly”. I view complex problems and work towards finding complex solutions that are not a clean or easy.

Snoopy Introverted thinkers

Introverts are viewed as not good leaders because of their demeanor. They do not rush into decisions. They make assessments of a problem, address it to those in charge (unless they are in charge themselves), and set about making decisions that are not easy.

It is not about doing the “heroic” thing, as many are prone to do. It’s about doing the right thing when it is necessary and consistent, without seeking attention.

There are quiet leaders who toil in the mundane or pedantic world of work who face problems every day, not some big scandal. They succeed by managing their political capital, buying themselves time, bending the rules, and more.

Maybe I am a leader, but in a different way that may not be suitable for many.

 

 

All It Took Was A Smile

All It Took Was A Smile

All it took was a friendly smile.

I had nothing else to do on a spring Saturday in May roughly about 7 years ago. I decided to walk and visit the shops and places in Des Moines’ East Village neighborhood. The State Historical Building and the Olympic Flame restaurant were the only two places I knew and went to. When I interned at the Iowa drug czar’s office in college, I was introduced to The Olympic Flame. That was my only remembrance of East Village until I moved to Des Moines a year later in 1998.

After a few stops, I was in front of a store that was on the corner of E. Grand and E. 5th.  The store looked small. It was filled with lotions, soaps, and other items that I was ashamed to admit that it smelled so good. The store was laced with the scent of lavender, citrus, parfum, different types of exotic oils, perfume and cologne.

Rather than keep walking, I was curious enough to foolishly walk in. After about three minutes of standing in front of a table of fragrant soap, the owner notices me and asked if there was anything she could help me with. Being a mild stutterer, I was caught off guard and I stammered out “No thank you. I was looking.” I quickly left and went about my way.

Not long after that, the store moved to its current place on East 6th. The place was a little bigger and brighter. White and light tones dominated the inside of the store. The signage outside was hard not to ignore.

eden

Simplistic and yet it had a charm and an identity that would have a hand in the evolution of East Village.

I walked inside, once again curious as hell as I meandered past the tables and shelves of shampoo, soap, candles, and children books. The owner, as she did the last time, asked if I needed any help. I didn’t quite remember her, only because I kept my head down in embarrassment. I don’t recall what I said, but it had something to do with soap or shaving cream.

What I remember about that exchange was that she smiled.

Jennifer Hansen had a smile that made you feel welcomed, whether you were going to buy something or wandering around like I did.

After that, I became a fan and a supporter of eden. I learned how she was inspired to open eden: her grandmother visited Paris and told stories about Paris. Years later, Jennifer would visit Paris. Paris was the inspiration for her to open her own store. Holiday parties, special events, and First Friday were “must-go” for friends and acquaintances to stop by. First Fridays in the summer was on my calendar, not to shop, but to sit in the back with the men, as her husband John grilled hot dogs or steaks. In the front of the store, the shop girls and Jen would provide homemade cocktails.

eden 2
Courtesy: Historic East Village of Des Moines (eastvillagedesmoines.com)

A large poster of Audrey Hepburn and a red scooter (Vespa, I think?) were the first things to greet customers when they walked through the doors of eden.

Three visits stood out to me as memorable. The first was when I was looking for a birthday gift for my youngest niece. I walked out of there with a stuffed brown dog with ears that flapped all over the place. The next purchase was a gift basket for my mother for Christmas. Jen helped me put together the basket. The third one, and this is important to me, was when I got up the courage to ask Jen and a friend who also had a shop in East Village, if it was possible for my non-profit to have our walk through East Village.

That ask came before I was diagnosed with advanced stage retinopathy. I struggled to see anything in focus. On the day of the walk, I didn’t get the chance to see the walkers walk through and experience East Village for the first time.

I wasn’t allowed to drive or bike. I had to call a cab if I needed to go somewhere. After the walk was over, I walked the nearly 7 blocks through downtown, across the bridge over the Des Moines River, to thank Jen and Alyssa for their help. The walk event wasn’t a huge success, but the confidence to ask for support and ideas were pretty special.

Jen was a Sherman Hill apologist through and through. John and her also loved camping. In fact, she gave their camper a name. The camper was part of her family along with the cats who lived in their Sherman Hill home.

Before I met her, there was one unwelcome guest that never seemed to leave: cancer. Yeah, that guest. When I learned I had retinopathy and later kidney failure, I privately thought of Jen and how she kept a smile on her face despite chemotherapy, days of physical drain, and when she had to rest at home, while the shop girls ran the store.

In essence, showing kindness through adversity. Adversity is a box that contains stuff that we do not want, but rather than sit and stew about it, we find ways to understand, accept, and eventually part ways with that box.

The last visit I made to eden was a year ago, in October 2016. I was in town for an event, and it was First Friday. I stopped by, quietly, as Jen, the shop girls, and the customers were mingling.

Why ruin something that is, well, just perfect? Everyone was in good spirits. There was no time to talk about illnesses.

Until Monday morning. The unwelcome visitor, cancer, left for good.

And took Jennifer along.

Cancer sucks, but no one here on this planet is going to put their boxing gloves down for anything. Cancer, kidney failure, Alzheimer’s, and other unwelcome guests.

As I remember Jennifer Hansen, the large poster of Audrey Hepburn and the scooter in the window front doesn’t make me mourn. I can see in my own mind Jen riding on that red scooter…with Audrey hanging on as they ride down Locust Street in East Village.

With a smile on their faces.

The “Creative Class” Ideology Going Backwards

The “Creative Class” Ideology Going Backwards

Last week, there was an editorial that should have had more attention and discussion about race and socioeconomics than marches and statues.

That puts me in the minority, pardon the pun, to rehash this topic again.

The Des Moines Register published an editorial on Sunday, August 13th about the racial gaps that African-Americans continued to face in Des Moines.

This might be a dumb question…did they come up with this conclusion on their own, or did they read this and this, and figured out that a no-name hack (me) knew what the hell he was talking about?

Coincidence? I’ll you figure that out on your own.

I asked this in October 2014, and I will ask this again: why is Des Moines is so “progressive” and “diverse”, and yet continue to ignore the “urban core” of their city?

For a city like Des Moines who will organize a protest to stand down against hate, misogyny, and racism, it feels like the people (progressives) who say they are against “hate” are the same ones who must hate the idea of poor individuals living next door to them and would prefer to have those people shepherded off to a different part of town so that their pristine condos and brick house neighborhoods look attractive to new visitors.

In some circles, the “urban core” is code for “black neighborhoods”, “ghettos”, and run down areas that are ripe for enterprise zones and gentrification. The term gentrification today doesn’t strike fear in Millennials and upwardly mobile individuals. There is little to no objections to “white-washing” former blighted areas with high-priced housing, but plenty of demands to jettison statues for symbolic gestures.

The economic disparities and policies that are affecting the minority populations and the so-called “urban core” is real, not propaganda.

American urban studies theorist Richard Florida recently realized that his “creative class” ideology did not pan out the way he anticipated. The “creative class” he envisioned is homogeneous, upper class, and financially well-off (in layman’s terms…white). It was quite obvious, to this writer, that there is a sentiment that most minorities (African-Americans in particular) are not considered as “creative” and not many are part of the “creative class” that Florida and his legion of followers swore by.

I can’t confirm that assumption, but it sure has the smell of it.

It’s about opportunities and affordability (say it with me here, white and black “privilege”). Many in the urban core do not have both, unless you are an elected official representing those areas. I experienced this myself for several years after the recession of 2009. I was seeking opportunities, but I wasn’t a “fit” for businesses, leaders, and individuals in Des Moines. It wasn’t just that I was black, I stuttered, went to a small college, and I was an introvert who wasn’t for small talk and brown-nosing.

I also could not afford to attend events like the Principal Charity Classic, Winefest, and others, despite my love for golf, wine, and art. I had to be in my 20’s, white, upper class, and be someone who would most likely be groomed as a community or business leader. I wasn’t in any of those categories.

I couldn’t afford to live and work downtown, or own a house, if I was a vice president of a bank and paid my bills on time.

Des Moines and other Midwestern cities have fallen into the trap of trying to be “hip”, “progressive”, and “cool”, to entice the “creative class”, Millennials, and rich empty-nesters to move into these cities. If there was a list of current or new condos being built in Des Moines, how many of those current or new residents are African-American, Hispanic-American, or non-white? And out of that list, how many are above the income median range to live there? Let’s see if the Des Moines Register will work on getting those stats.

If it is less than 5%, we have a problem. It’s not diverse. It’s not progressive. It’s the status quo.

How many citizens can afford a $300,000 + condo when they can hardly keep the lights on in a run-down home in the Drake neighborhood (where students attend a private university that many children living in the neighborhood will never be able to afford to go)?

Our zeal to be progressive has caused unintended consequences that has further progressed the gap between a city and it’s minority residents.

I have plenty of thoughts about the editorial and my previous posts, but I’ll stop here.

I don’t want to disturb you from The Solheim Cup, protesting statues, and blaming Russia for our recent troubles.

 

 

Musings: Comedy as a Teachable Tool

Musings: Comedy as a Teachable Tool

 

Maher.jpg
Is there a line that is crossed when comedians act as “news sources”?  (Washington Post)

Comedy can be a teachable tool.

Bad and vile comedy can cross a line. Good comedy can teach us about something we haven’t thought of.

There are two news pieces that are good cases about how comedy can teach us in different ways.

The brilliant Daniel P. Finney of the Des Moines Register writes a thought-provoking piece about comedians dipping their feet into politics. You can offer a political opinion, but there are consequences when it crosses the line.

It is a stark reminder to me about the role of journalists. Unfortunately, there are a cadre of journalists who continue to blur the lines between “reporting” and “commentary”.

The takeaway quotes are below from Finney’s column:

“When you stake out the moral high ground and say you are the party of inclusion and diversity and the other party is not, you’d better make damn sure the people who are carrying your message are morally sound,” said Rachel Caufield, an associate professor of political science at Drake University who has taught a course on political satire. “Racial slurs and faked decapitated heads are not the way the left are going to reach the center.”

Whether we like it or not — and for the record, I don’t — comedians are now treated as thought leaders and news sources in this country.

And the fake decapitated heads and racial slurs do more than just besmirch the images of a couple of rogue comedians. They undermine the message of liberals and Democrats. 

Daniel P. Finney, “Comedy is killing the political left”, Des Moines Register, June 7, 2017 

The statement underlined is the various reasons I am a small minority of viewers who chose not to watch individuals like Jon Stewart, Colbert, Trevor Noah and others. They are comedians who are treated as “news sources” because viewers do not trust the mainstream media.

Is it wrong to assume that these are the same viewers who feel obligated to “support” the mainstream media that is being “attacked” by the current presidential administration?

Do these viewers support the media and at the same time loathe them enough to get their “news” from Samantha Bee and have her affirm their beliefs?

It is clear that viewers want “affirmation” for their beliefs, not information that they need. That comment comes from (surprise!) noted hot sports take aficionado Colin Cowherd., who has been saying this for a decade.

I need information to learn what is going on. I can form my own opinions privately, without the help of a comedian. Especially unfunny comedians like Maher who has become increasingly bitter and acrimonious because he isn’t the “go-to” guy that Colbert, and Stewart before him, was.


The recent arrest of Reality Winner, or whoever her real name is, for allegedly removing classified information from a government facility and mailing it to a news outlet, is  starting to pick up some traction. Attorney Mark Zaid, who represents whistleblowers, said that Winner isn’t a whistleblower. She had grudge against the President and decided to use her grudge as retaliation.

I don’t know much about this story, so I’ll refrain from forming an opinion until I understand more about what took place.

Which leads to this question….

“Do government workers believe in the policies that their elected leaders come up with?”

Government employees are hired to carry out government policies. That should be a simple task, but it’s not. With any change in leadership, policies can fluctuate and change quickly. That puts government employees, regardless of  in a conundrum.

Yes Minister
“Yes Minister” is a great lesson in how government operates, for good and evil. I highly recommend this series. I prefer it over “House of Cards”. Don’t @ me. (Den of Geeks)

This question popped into my head while watching one of my favorite television shows, “Yes Minister”. “Yes Minister” (and its successor “Yes Prime Minister”) details the inner workings of the British government and the comedic attempts by Sir Humphrey Appleby and the Civil Service to thwart (Government) Minister Jim Hacker’s pursuit to enact policies for the public good.

In the episode, “The Whisky Priest”, Hacker is alerted about an illegal sale of arms to an Italian terrorist group. He plans to tell the Prime Minister, but Sir Humphrey attempts to discourage and obstruct Hacker from telling the Prime Minister.

In the pivotal scene in between Humphrey, Hacker, and Bernard Woolley, Humphrey’s dialogue about what his job is and what the role of government paints a picture of what government workers go through on a daily basis when elected officials try to create policies that goes one way or another and then expect government employees to believe in it and enforce those policies.

Sir Humphrey: My job is to carry out government policy.

Hacker: Even if you think it’s wrong?

Sir Humphrey: Well, almost all government policy is wrong, but… frightfully well carried out.

“Yes Minister” unveils several questions about how, and who, actually runs the government.

Do the elected officials run the country or is it the bureaucrats who dictate the daily operations on Capitol Hill, state capitals, and in City Hall?  If citizens do not trust politicians, should we trust bureaucrats and government workers, who clearly has more knowledge about what goes on?

When you finish “The Whisky Priest”, I encourage you to watch several more episodes and ask yourself “Do we really know what is going on in our governments, and do we care to know?”