gas and groceries (tumblr grab)

 Why do conservatives complain about the price of gas and groceries?

If you don't like the price of gas and groceries, just stop buying gas and groceries.

What's that? That's horrible advice?

Well, that's the exact advice you've been giving to other struggling people since the beginning of time. You've been nonchalantly defending the free market whenever it was harmful to others. You convinced yourself that those who are struggling deserve it until you became one. Then, you suddenly decided that it must be some deep state conspiracy instead of accepting that what's happening to you is exactly what you dismissed when it was happening to others.

The Christian Nationalist Hydra (TPM)

The Christian Nationalist Hydra: In Era of Trump, Christian Nationalism Has Many Faces

 From traditional Christian-right figures to secret societies envisioning a ‘national divorce,’ a growing contingent of radical activists is planning for Christian supremacy.

By Sarah Posner     April 12, 2024 9:54 a.m.

I am a journalist who has covered the Christian right for two decades. Over the past three years, I began to more frequently use the term “Christian nationalism” to describe the movement I cover. But I did not start using a new term to suggest its proponents’ ideology had changed. Instead, the term had come into more common usage in the Trump era, now regularly used by academics, journalists, and pro-democracy activists to describe a movement that insists America is a “Christian nation” — that is, an illiberal, nominally democratic theocracy, rather than a pluralistic secular democracy.

To me, the phrase was highly descriptive of the movement I’ve dedicated my career to covering, and neatly encapsulates the core threat the Christian right poses to freedom and equality. From its top leaders and influencers down to the grassroots — politically mobilized white evangelicals, the foot soldiers of the Christian right — its proponents believe that God divinely ordained America to be a Christian nation; that this Christian nation has come under attack by liberals and secularists; and that patriotic Christians must engage in spiritual warfare to rid America of demonic forces, and in political action to restore its Christian heritage. That includes taking political steps — as a voter, as an elected official, as a lawyer, as a judge — to ensure that America is governed according to a “biblical worldview.”

If you want to see that definition in action, look no further than the career of House Speaker Mike Johnson. Seventeen years ago, when I interviewed Johnson, then a lawyer with the Christian right legal powerhouse Alliance Defending Freedom, I would have labeled him a loyal soldier in the Christian right’s legal army trying to bring down the separation of church and state. He is a product of and a participant in a sprawling religious and political infrastructure that has made the movement’s successes possible, from politically active megachurches, to culture-shaping organizations like Focus on the Family, to political players like the Family Research Council, to the legal force in his former employer ADF. 

In today’s parlance, Johnson is a Christian nationalist — although he, like most of his compatriots, has certainly not embraced the label. But Mike Johnson the House Speaker is still Mike Johnson the lawyer I interviewed all those years ago: an evangelical called to politics to be a “servant leader” to a Christian nation, dedicated to its governance according to a biblical worldview: against church-state separation, for expanded rights for conservative Christians, adamantly against abortion and LGBTQ rights, and especially, currently, trans rights.

That mindset is still the beating heart of the Christian right, even as the movement, and other movements in the far-right space, have radicalized in the Trump era, taking on new forms and embracing a range of solutions to the apocalyptic trajectory they see America to be on. Different movements imagining a version of Christian supremacy exist side by side — different strains that often borrow ideas from one another, and that fit comfortably under the banner of Christian nationalism.  

The term “Christian nationalism” became popularized during Trump’s presidency for a few reasons. First, Trump, who first ran in 2016 on a nativist platform with the nationalist slogan “Make America Great Again,” was and still is dependent on white evangelicals to win elections and maintain a hold on power. He is consequently willing to carry out their goals, bringing their ambitions closer to fruition than they’ve ever been in their 45-year marriage to the Republican Party. They have been clear, for example, in crediting him for the downfall of Roe v. Wade, among other assaults on other peoples’ rights.

Second, the prominence of Christian iconography at the January 6 insurrection, and the support for Trump’s stolen election lie before, during, and after January 6 by both Christian right influencers and the grassroots, brought into stark relief that Christian nationalist motivations helped fuel his attempted coup.  

Finally, sociologists studying the belief systems of Christian nationalists pushed the term into public usage, as did anti-nationalist Christians, especially after January 6, in order to elevate awareness of the threats Christian nationalism poses to democracy. (The paperback edition of my book, Unholy, which was published in mid-2021 and included a post-January 6 afterword, reflected the increasing usage of the term Christian nationalists by including the term in a fresh subtitle.)

The Trump era, along with the rise of openly Christian nationalist social media sites like Gab, and Elon Musk’s takeover of Twitter, have given space for otherwise unknown figures, like the rabidly antisemitic Gab founder Andrew Torba, co-author of the book Christian Nationalism: A Biblical Guide For Taking Dominion And Discipling Nations, and Stephen Wolfe, author of the racist book The Case for Christian Nationalism, to enter the Christian nationalism discourse. Although Torba and Wolfe have made waves online, and extremism watchers are rightly alarmed that their tracts could prove influential and radicalizing, they remain distinct from the Christian right. Torba’s antisemitism is so extreme, for example, that Pennsylvania GOP gubernatorial candidate Doug Mastriano — himself extreme — was forced to create some daylight between himself and his supporter Torba in his 2022 run. Torba’s site platformed the antisemitic rantings of the shooter in the 2018 massacre at Pittsburgh’s Tree of Life Synagogue, and Torba himself has said Jews aren’t welcome in his envisioned Christian nation. The Republican Jewish Coalition called Gab “a cesspool of bigotry and antisemitism.” Mastriano’s move seemed motivated more by self-preservation than contrition (and he lost the race anyway). 

That’s not to say, of course, that the Christian right and the conservative movement more broadly haven’t tolerated racists and other extremists in their midst — Trump’s endurance as their savior itself proves just how much that tolerance persists. Their entire alliance with Trump is one of sharing political and ideological space with the overtly antisemitic, racist, Islamophobic, nativist extremists he elevated to mainstream status in the GOP. But the Christian right is also committed to Christian Zionism, an ideology that claims to love the state of Israel while imagining it as the locus of Jesus’s violent return, and which is, in its philosemitism and bloody apocalyptic fantasies, antisemitic. Still, it would make it difficult for them to form explicit alliances with someone like Torba, a self-described Christian nationalist who repeatedly and unabashedly promotes some of the world’s oldest and ugliest antisemitic tropes like the Jews killed Jesus and secretly control the world. 

What’s more, Torba advocates for a “parallel society” for Christians to escape the supposedly debauched America he deplores. This is not unlike the Benedict Option advocated by conservative Christian (and Viktor Orbán admirer) Rod Dreher, or the secret, hyper-patriarchal Society for Civic American Renewal exposed by TPM’s Josh Kovensky, which is recruiting “unhyphenated” men of only certain denominations to run a Christian government after an anticipated “national divorce.” The language of SACR’s internal documents, to me, as a student of evangelicalism, is quite distinct from the sort of statement of faith you’d see from a church or evangelical organization, which would emphasize one’s salvation in Jesus Christ, commitment to the Bible as the literal, inerrant word of God, and the imperative for Christians to preach the gospel around the world.

The conventional Christian right does not want a parallel society or a divorce. They believe they are restoring, and will run, the Christian nation God intended America to be — from the inside. They will do that, in their view, through faith (evangelizing others and bringing them to salvation through Jesus Christ); through spiritual warfare (using prayer to battle satanic enemies of Christian America); and through politics and the law (governing and lawmaking from a “biblical worldview” after eviscerating church-state separation). Changes in the evangelical world, particularly the emphasis in the growing charismatic movement on prophecy, signs and wonders, spiritual warfare, the prosperity gospel, and Trumpism, has intensified the prominence of the supernatural in their politics, giving their Christian nationalism its own unmistakable brand.

For decades, Christian right has been completely open about their beliefs and goals. Their quest to take dominion over American institutions by openly evangelizing and instituting Christian supremacist policies sets the Christian right apart from other types of Christian nationalists who might operate in secret, or imagine utopian communities as the ideal way to save themselves from a secular, debauched nation. 

The fact that far-right extremists like Torba or Wolfe embrace the Christian nationalist label gives the more conventional Christian right leaders and organizations space to disassociate themselves from it. Some also berate journalists who use it to describe them, accusing them of hurling a left-wing slur at Christians. 

The bottom line is that Christian nationalism takes on different forms, and despite organizational or even ideological differences, ideas can penetrate the often porous borders between different camps. Someone who receives the daily email blast from the Family Research Council might also be drawn to Wolfe’s book, for example. On a more unnerving, macro level, major right-wing and GOP figures, including Marjorie Taylor Greene and the CEO of the Daily Wire, the podcast consortium run by conservative influencer Ben Shapiro, have embraced the rabidly antisemitic, Hitler-admiring antagonist Nick Fuentes, who is Catholic but also is accurately described as a Christian nationalist. The increasingly influential Catholic integralist movement, which seeks a Catholic-inflected replacement for the “liberal order,” is yet another unique form of Christian nationalism.

Christian nationalism is a serious threat to democracy, because it is premised on the supremacy of Christianity and rejects the democratic values of freedom and equality for all. It is crucial to understand that it takes various forms, how its numerous proponents differ, and how they intersect. Some pose a threat because of their proximity to political and legal power; others because they accelerate racist and antisemitic rhetoric; and still others because they might incite violence. These distinctions show how Christian nationalism is varied, very combustible, and critical to combat.

A Taste of Normal

 Last night I worked as a valet. 

It was wonderful. 

After four months of being away, I felt like I was in a place I belonged. I knew what I was doing. I was relaxed and confident. I was content.

It's been four months since my heart attack, and I had eleven weeks off from work. I didn't go back to valet right away because the hotel was worried that if I lifted a suitcase I would die. My doctor had actually cleared me to work after seven weeks off, but the hotel didn't quite know what to do with me. Eventually we came to an agreement that I would work the night audit shift at the front desk.

I was not happy about going back to working nights. I had worked the overnight shift for thirteen years at this hotel, and before that, four years at another. When the pandemic began, the valet department had a six month vacation. When we came back, the overnight shift was dispensed with, and I was moved to the early morning shift, and then later, the mid shift during the week, and closing shift on the weekends. I liked the new schedule. I got to spend time with Gaby and with friends and family. I had time and daylight to work on projects. It was nice. 

The fellow they had (have) training me is Matt, and he's one of those people who is just good at everything, which kinda worries me. We had a fellow that was good at everything - EV ER Y THING -  a few years ago.by the name of Justin. I could say that Justin got burned out, but it would be more accurate to say that, because he was reliable and phenomenally skilled, the hotel actively burned him out. Justin had enough going on in his personal life and he didn't need to be treated like that. I liked Justin. A lot. I like Matt. A lot. I don't want to see the same thing happen to Matt.

Matt got a promotion, and is now one of our front office managers, which means he would be moving to daytime, so the race was on to get me trained. Problem is, I have no talent for computer stuff. I mean, if you show me which buttons I need to push, I can get the job done and eventually I will figure out what it all means, but you can't rush me. Matt began my training by teaching me how to do the audit. I took copious step-by-step notes, and referred to them constantly, adding to them as needed. At first the only part I was good at was the valet audit, which, y'know, of course, because I already understood it. Eventually I got to the point where all I needed was the checklist.

The deficiency in my training had to do with guest services. 

Now, I love working with the guests. I can eventually figure out the computer. But working with a guest AND a computer? That's a bad combination. There's a lot of pressure to do the job quickly and correctly. My GM asked me one morning how I was doing, and I expressed these fears. He said that the key was to act confidently like I knew what I was doing. My whole schtick has been to gain the sympathy of the guest by being the nervous new guy. 

They had scheduled me to work a couple of afternoon shifts in order to train me how to check in a guest, etc. Unfortunately, those two shifts happened to be on days when we had, like, twelve arrivals at 3:00 in the afternoon. Me being there was robbing the young ladies who were working that shift of the only thing they had to do all evening, so I got sent home early both times.

During one of those shifts, I was made an offer I couldn't refuse. If you've seen The Godfather, you know what I mean. The AFOM told me that the GM was asking about my intentions. I reiterated that valet was my first love, and that I was expecting to go back to it fully some time in early to mid summer. He didn't put it in so many words, but he basically told me that my return to valet was unlikely, and that if I didn't agree to stay on as night auditor, the hotel might not have a position for me at all. I told him that I was available to do whatever I was needed to do, but that night and the next day, the more I thought about it the more demoralized I became.  Still, as I told one of my other coworkers, it's only three years. I reach my 20 years, with all the lifetime benefits, two days before I reach retirement age. I can hang on till then.

Eventually, Matt left me. I was supposed to start flying solo on the 22nd of March (Friday!?! Are you freakin' serious?!), but Matt stayed that night just to make sure I didn't get overwhelmed. The following Wednesday I really was alone.

Once upon a time, it was normal to have two or three people working the front desk overnight, especially on the weekends. New management has decided that that is unnecessary, which Matt has accurately described as "bullshit." My first week (my permanent schedule is Wednesday through Friday, 10pm to 8am) went okay. I figured out a system for making sure I got everything done, and knew what to talk to the FOM about in the morning after she and the rest of the morning crew arrive an hour late. I might have given away some free rooms, but nobody complained. But this week has been rough, and not just for me. My counterpart, Sheila, had such a bad time Saturday night that Matt, who has been sick the last few days, was worried that she would not come in last night and he'd have to work a double.

And Sheila knows what she's doing. Me? I'm on the phone with a woman I can't hear because a) it's a bad connection, and b) the music in the bar and the crowd in the lobby is too loud, and she's wanting to know if I can get her into two rooms on a particular date that the app has already told her is not available. I don't know how to do that. This while I've got two parties trying to check in, and I need to move a VIP out of a room where someone has been smoking without him being charged extra for the upgrade. Who knew that the audit would be the easy part.

I should have just transferred her to reservations. Hindsight.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
I've been going to a cardio rehab class for the last couple of months. It's basically a gym class where they monitor your blood pressure and teach you to exercise for your heart health. I graduated last Monday. That made me available for a mid or evening shift in valet, aside from my duties at the front desk. I had been discussing my return with my bell captain, and we decided on Sunday night as a good night for me. It's not terribly busy, so I don't have to exert myself too much right away, and nobody else on staff is going to miss working that night.

Last night I got to visit with guests as they came in. I didn't have to use a computer. I made a little bit of money. And as a bonus, the weather was wonderful. I was very happy.

Sunday nights are going to be my island of sanity in a world of chaos.

Fascist Stuff My Friends Post on Facebook

 

Mountain Climbing

 

Just Another Fake News Meme

So, the above meme was posted on Facebook by a friend of mine. My first reaction to it was, That makes no sense. Why would a black man be complaining that a company he's worked with for years wasn't racist enough? The meme came with a link to an article from Esspots, which, according to their "about us" page, is "your one-stop destination for satirical news and commentary about the United States of America. Our team of writers and editors is dedicated to bringing you the latest and greatest in fake news and absurdity, all with a healthy dose of humor and satire."

I found that out after I had already I googled "Michael Jordan Nike." One of the first things that popped up in the Google search was a fact-check article from the AP explaining that this was indeed fake news, detailing the origin, and explaining that the impetus for the article was transphobic backlash (not racism) after a popular transgender TicTok influencer, Dylan Mulvaney, promoted Nike products on her Instagram.

My incurious friend posted the meme with the caption, "Good for him". 

 

Support System

 I don't remember getting from the wheelchair to the operating table. I do remember that there was a gurney involved, because I remember being asked to move from one flat surface to another. "Mr. Savage, can you you move your butt over just a little bit more... That's good." A nurse took my pants and underwear off. I don't remember the removal of my shirt, nor being dressed in a hospital gown.

What I remember more than anything else was how bright the lights were. I entertained myself by watching the floaters in both eyes dance around against a white background -- not the usual milky orange that I would normally see when my eyes were closed. And then the clouds rolling in from the outside edges, battleship grey and swirling around my field of vision. Was this death? If the clouds completely occluded my vision, would that mean I had died? I wasn't afraid, just curious. Was this the great mystery that only the dying understood? But the cloud cover was never complete. The white always peeked through, with those damn floaters, which I get more and more of as I age, still dancing.

It seems odd to me that I thought so little about my own death when for everyone around me that was the first thing on their minds. For me, the whole ordeal was about the discomfort and inconvenience. The plan, for a while now, is that I will be taking care of my surviving parent when the time came. If I'm not there, who would do that for me? My kids? Gaby? Gaby has his citizenship interview and test on Thursday. He'd have to reschedule. And I've got Etsy orders to ship. Would anyone even think about closing my shop?

The surgery was done a couple of hours after we arrived at the hospital about 5:30 Wednesday morning. A little after 5am, I had awakened sweating and unable to catch my breath. My old plumber, Big John, had retired after a heart attack. He described feeling as if an elephant was standing on his chest. For me, it was more like I had spandex tightly wrapped around my upper torso, which prevented my rib cage from expanding the way I needed it to. Also there was a small intense pain in my solar plexus that felt like I really, really needed to burp. So I took a couple of Tums. They didn't help. All this woke Gaby up, who asked if he should take me to the ER. We got dressed (ish), and Gaby ran a few red lights on the way there. My GP works for Integris, so they already had all my medical and insurance information. The put me in a wheelchair and whisked me right in. They put three stents into the arteries around my heart, pushing them into my body through the radial artery from my right wrist. (That was actually very painful, and apparently I flinched because I was told to lie still.) Afterwards I was moved to a room in the ICU (ICU7). 

I slept most of the day, but was aware of my family arriving and being in the room. My mother, a retired RN, was very interested in looking at my vitals on the monitoring screen next to the bed, and explaining what it all meant to everyone else. This annoyed my daughter, who didn't want to think about any of that stuff. (When Sarah told me about that a day or two later, I reminded her that her grandmother was fascinated by those things because of her old profession, but also it was a coping mechanism. She said she knew that.) 

My favorite part of that day was listening to my kids' conversation, though I had to have them move their chairs closer so that I could hear better. McCauley had gone on a first date with a girl that he met via a dating ap, and he liked her right off. Sarah said she was glad for him.
My least favorite part of the day was when they turned off Survivor. Seems they assumed I wasn't watching it just because I was asleep. 
Later in the evening, our good friends Zach and Frank came by, having driven all the way from Mustang for a ten minute visit. We love these guys.  
Gaby took the opportunity to go home to check on the dogs and shower. It was the only time he left my side.

Gaby. Gaby called my family. He called my boss. He texted and Facebooked with friends. He ordered my meals,  fed me, helped me pee. He scratched my forehead and did a lot of other trivial things because the IVs in both arms prevented me from bending my arms. He got me blankets and pillows, and straightened them for me and helped me adjust the bed when I couldn't get comfortable. He slept when he could, which was not much, in the recliner in ICU7, and on the uncomfortable couch in room 517 after I had been moved. He only left the room to go eat and go to the restroom, and usually then only when other family was there for me.
When we finally got home on Friday night, He laid down next to me in our bed, buried his face in my shoulder and started to cry. Which made me cry. It was the first time I had really felt the emotion of what had happened, but not for me. For him. But I wasn't actually physically strong enough to cry, so I had to stop.

The next time was because of McCauley. It's been handy having a minion living next door after he moved in last summer. This weekend he took care of the dogs, and made deliveries, and just stayed. I had made a date with him to go to dinner and shopping for his birthday, which was on Friday, but now we we're all joking that I had to cancel because something had come up. I didn't know how he was feeling until I saw his Facebook post. Again, a big sob, not for me, for him. But I don't have the strength, so I just had to deal with the tennis ball in my throat.

One of the things he delivered was my phone, which had been left on the drafting table in the studio. Gaby had been telling me about some of the good wishes I had been receiving, but that was my first chance to see it for myself. I have friends. I have people who love me. I called our best friend Charla via Facetime, and we chatted for a while. I wanted to do the same with other friends: Ted, Brian, Melody, but I didn't have the strength to hold up the phone.

Besides not being able to use my arms, the lack of strength was what bothered me most. I would get winded just trying to straighten my blanket. The first night I was home I slept fourteen hours. I told my mom about how exhausting it was just trying to take a shower, and she said that the first time she took a shower after a surgery she had had recently, she felt like she had climbed a mountain. But it's been getting better. I've been taking a lot of naps. The minion and the man-spouse have been doing the lifting and the driving. I'm watching a lot of TV. McCauley drove me to the post office and the grocery store. Gaby drove me back to the post office to mail a couple of Etsy orders -- one of which was sold while I was in the hospital.

Main thing now is figuring out the diet. I hardly ate anything in the hospital. Most of that was because my mouth was so dry that nothing but fruit and salads sounded good. Our friend Michael brought a care package with a lot of snacks that I couldn't eat. S'alright, Gaby needs to eat too. In fact he's taken it upon himself to eat all the salt-filled foods we have in our cabinets and fridge. Once that's done, he'll join me on my diet.
He fixed me an egg white omelet Saturday morning, with spinach and string cheese. It was really good. Sunday morning I was feeling well enough to cook my own omelet. It wasn't as pretty as his, but still good. I looked up what a heart healthy diet was supposed to be. Discussing it with Gaby, we figured out that most of the problem with the diet are just simple fixable things. We buy ingredients at the grocery store that are healthy, but we also buy chips, cookies, and ice cream. And when we are (I am) in a hurry, it's too easy to stop off at a fast food place and pick up something to eat in the car. From now on, it's more meal planning, watching the salt and fat intake.

So that's the project for the next year. Just learning how to live healthier.

Thank you, my friends, for your support.