Tag Archives: maga

The Televised Revolution

Posted on February 16, 2025 | 6 comments

“The revolution ‘bout to be televised. You picked the right time, but the wrong guy.” – Kendrick Lamar (New Orleans, February 9, 2025)

“He who saves his Country does not violate any Law.” – Donald J. Trump (Truth Social, February 15, 2025)

I consider myself a decent student of American history and a terrible interpreter of hip-hop music, but here goes anyway.

Last Sunday, while watching the Super Bowl Halftime Show featuring Kendrick Lamar, I recognized that the artistry on stage was communicating more than I understood. I was somewhat aware of the Kendrick v. Drake feud and that part of the performance concerned the former’s accusation of the latter’s possible relationships with underage girls (which is denied), but introducing Samuel L. Jackson as Uncle Sam and dancers forming the American flag signified much more than an artist feud. After considerable reading, learning, and reflecting, I have come to believe that the message from the Pulitzer-Prize-winning artist is both profound and sobering.

The message? We are experiencing an actual political revolution.

At the beginning of the performance, while standing on top of a Buick and in reference to a poem by Gil Scott-Heron in 1970, Lamar said: “The revolution ‘bout to be televised. You picked the right time, but the wrong guy.” The original poet had written “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” and later explained his meaning, i.e., that true change originates in one’s mind, but Lamar flipped the script and left his lyrics for our interpretation.

I buy the following interpretation: We are watching a political revolution unfold, and although revolution might be called for, we picked the wrong revolutionary.

Maybe it is just me, but I had always imagined that a government overthrow involved guns and tanks, but it makes sense that a revolution can occur even through a peaceful transfer of power. We are now living through the subsequent dismantling of a government.

What many anti-Trumpers struggle to see is that many MAGA supporters either want the government destroyed or don’t mind that it is. It simply makes sense that those desiring to upend a constitutional system aren’t overly concerned if an action is unconstitutional. And lawsuits over checks and balances don’t mean much if you really don’t care about the checks and balances in the first place.

Whether MAGA fully appreciates the ramifications is beside the point. The reality is that a point exists where one despises government so much that its reform is uninteresting. 

Donald Trump’s post on Truth Social yesterday is telling: “He who saves his Country does not violate any Law.” He pinned it to the top of his page for emphasis, and I suspect that he is well aware of its association with Napoleon Bonaparte, who came to power in the French Revolution. Regardless, it suggests himself as an American savior who stands above the law that governs the nation.

What we are seeing unfold is fundamentally different from your typical debate between a conservative form of American government and a liberal form of American government. There have absolutely been power grabs before, but none that look like this, and the others, when rebuffed, have retreated under the veil of respect for the rule of law and our system of government.

The revolution is frightening for the groups that the revolution intends to marginalize, of course,  but it is also concerning for many more that do not know what an American government unmoored from constitutional checks and balances might be.

For those that desired revolution, their joy is logical, but it will be depressing for other supporters who may come to see that their beliefs, fears, and/or prejudices were played by an impressive propaganda machine to overturn rather than reform a system of government—and allow a small group of people to acquire immense power and wealth for themselves.

I am particularly disturbed by the  professed devotion to the flag and the public oath to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States. I am convinced that what we are witnessing is an upending of that Constitution and the flag that has heretofore represented an imperfect but unique form of government.

I am not unequivocally devoted to the American style of government, nor am I opposed to nonviolent, revolutionary change. In fact, I desire revolutionary change for the poor and marginalized in this nation and around the world. But if I heard him correctly, I happen to agree with Kendrick Lamar. We picked the right time, but the wrong person.

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America Raw

Posted on December 2, 2024 | 4 comments

I am going to share a disturbing metaphor. It is unpleasant, so consider yourself warned, but I do hope you will read on and consider.

To begin, I confess that I have not followed the professional wrestling craze over the years. As a child, I spent Saturday mornings watching Mid-South Wrestling on a local Memphis television station and rooted for “Superstar” Bill Dundee over Jerry “The King” Lawler, but when professional wrestling later consolidated and exploded into a mammoth empire I was occupied with other things. It wasn’t a moral choice at the time; I was probably just too infatuated with traditional sports.

However, while channel surfing over the last couple of years, I stumbled on and appreciated several A&E documentaries featuring the biographies of famous wrestlers whose names I could not have escaped had I tried: “Macho Man” Randy Savage. Jake “The Snake” Roberts. “Stone Cold” Steve Austin. The Undertaker. And of course, I also watched a movie or two, so names like Hulk Hogan, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, and John Cena are more than familiar.

But it wasn’t wrestling fandom that led me recently to watch all six episodes of the current Netflix docuseries, Mr. McMahon, chronicling the life and times of the legendary promoter, Vince McMahon, who transformed wrestling into a national phenomenon and himself into a multibillionaire. Instead, as a higher education professional, I was interested in the McMahon story since Linda McMahon, Vince’s spouse of fifty-eight years (though very recently separated), has been nominated by President-elect Trump as the next leader of the federal department of education. I felt the need to learn more.

I did watch all six episodes, and many were very hard to watch.

Episode Five, titled, “Family Business,” was one of the hard ones and the first to really feature Linda. It shared when Vince’s evil (“heel”) character began to incorporate his wife and children into the storyline, which involved times when Linda would slap her children on camera and others when she would portray a drugged spouse whose husband would carry on affairs in front of her. This phase in the story of the World Wrestling Federation (at the time, later changed to World Wrestling Entertainment (“WWE”) due to a lawsuit) coincided with the rise of reality television, and the McMahon storyline blended reality and soap opera with a blurry line as to which parts were real. But it turns out that this post is not so much about Linda McMahon specifically.

The previous episode, Episode Four, titled “Attitude,” is another hard one and the centerpiece of the docuseries. It showcased the “Attitude Era” as announced on an episode of “Monday Night Raw” in 1997 when Vince McMahon (the business mogul) became “Mr. McMahon” (the heel/character, and docuseries title). The Attitude Era featured marked and intentional increases in hardcore, sadistic violence as well as sexually provocative content that objectified women—and the business exploded in popularity.

Episode Four reminded me that the Attitude Era was not a cultural anomaly in the late 1990s. It recalled the rise of “trash television” like The Jerry Springer Show and radio “shock jocks” like Howard Stern that were wildly popular, too. In an earlier episode of Mr. McMahon, famed bodybuilder and wrestler, Tony Atlas, described the era by saying, “We would have been looked upon in today’s society as some of the worst human beings walking the face of the Earth. I mean, we abused the hell out of women. All of us did. You know, they were like a toy for us.”

On a personal level, Episode Four led me to recall a particular prevailing [A]ttitude in the dark parts of my own childhood. I remembered when I learned terrible racist jokes (starting in elementary school). I remembered when shaming queer people was the standard. I remembered when offensive terms for disabled people were used to mock others. I remembered when the objectification of women was the societal norm.

I found it intriguing that Tony Atlas sensed a difference “in today’s society.” Times did change in certain important ways in the 21st century. The “#MeToo” movement created a major backlash against clergy sexual abuse and the Harvey Weinsteins and Larry Nassers in the United States. The creation of a “Pride Month” was a major national statement that queer shaming is unacceptable. The “Black Lives Matter” movement demanded recognition of the legacy of historic racial terror and the white supremacist foundations of the United States. “DEI” departments were established to work toward campus environments where everyone is included. The word “woke” entered the national vocabulary to say that we should no longer turn a blind eye to the terrible abuse that exists in our country. A “cancel culture” for offenders emerged.

As did accusations that these movements were going too far. Even though the movements used mild terms that reflected centuries of humiliation like the simple “me, too” (in response to being silenced) and “pride” (in response to being shamed) and “matter” (in response to being deemed insignificant) and “inclusion” (in response to being excluded) and “woke” (in response to being invisible), the accusations mounted that things were going too far. And following the 2024 presidential election, exit polls suggested that more than a few agreed with the accusations.

Given the perceived mandate, President-elect Trump then began to nominate unorthodox public figures to be his top leaders, including several accused of sexual assault; and including Linda McMahon to be the face of education.

As I watched the Netflix docuseries alongside the national news, here is the ominous metaphor that entered my mind: The current United States of America as a WWE crowd in the Attitude Era. In fact, while the thought first entered my mind in Episode Four of Mr. McMahon, the sixth and final episode begins by chronicling the rise of Donald Trump from business person to reality television star (including WWE) to popular politician and refers to “the wrestling-ification of America.”

No, I’m not claiming that all Trump supporters consciously and specifically voted for WWE values from the Attitude Era, although I am positive there are a disturbing number that did. What I am claiming is that whether enthusiastic or willing to compromise, whether reluctant or unaware, it seems clear that the nation—through the ballot box—purchased a ticket to the outrageous show. At the very least that is what the Cabinet nomination process displays so far.

In a sense, I guess the story of Vince McMahon’s astounding business success displayed that the United States already was a WWE crowd, but the pendulum swing toward a return to the Attitude Era on a national level is troubling, especially when you remember what that looked like. At some point in Episode Four, a wrestler asked a pertinent question: “Which is worse: the people who do it (i.e., sadistic violence; abuse women), or the people who love it?” I’m not sure of the answer, but it is a good question. And while I fear the cultural pendulum swing, I hope that it is less of a pendulum and more of a roller coaster drop with an ultimate upward trajectory toward progress. But I can’t say that with any confidence: It doesn’t bode well that, while we have seen this before, it is the first time that we have witnessed it with the massive power of the federal government.

If you haven’t tuned me out and still truly wonder why many are heartbroken and scared following the presidential election, consider this: While many hear the slogan, Make America Great Again, as an innocent return to a time when one income was sufficient for a family and students prayed in school, many others—especially given the actions and rhetoric of the politician that coined the slogan—hear “Again” as the time when racist jokes were commonplace, queer people were shamed and ostracized, disabled people were mocked, and women were abused and silenced. And for those facing such a recurrence, enthusiastic Christian approval is particularly painful.

It is possible that my voice is guilt-inspired. I am okay with that. Looking back at my life, I am surely not innocent. And speaking up for victims of centuries of racial, gender, and “other” abuse is literally the least I can do.

I encourage you to watch Mr. McMahon even though it is a painful experience, especially if you are willing to consider what makes it so painful. Doing so now seems timely as we fill the arena for a brand-new season of “America Raw.”

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An Historic Election: Looking Backward, Inward, and Forward

Posted on November 10, 2024 | 6 comments

I confess a deep sadness following last week’s presidential election. It is a personal sadness, sure, but it is far more on behalf of those from historically-marginalized groups that feel especially vulnerable and afraid due to a resounding national stamp of approval for a candidate famous for hateful rhetoric offered in their specific direction. E.g., Stand back and stand by. Black jobs. Grab them by the ____. Too many direct quotes about specific women’s bodies to list. Mocking a reporter with arthrogryposis. Muslim bans. Shithole countries.

I felt especially sad for my two amazing daughters. Their professional lives and personal hearts are dedicated to teaching children who live in poverty in the urban core and who are now facing a promise of mass deportation that will rip immigrant families apart. It is hard to imagine a fear more fundamental than a powerful government separating you from your family. It was hard enough for me to communicate with my heartbroken daughters as they went to work the morning after the election and know that they love children by name who are facing those fundamental fears.

My sadness expands recognizing that my personal religion, Christianity, generally speaking, is openly and willingly associated with the national stamp of approval for the hateful rhetoric. Although I disagree with their conclusion, I can understand the thought processes of those who saw the election as a “lesser of two evils” vote, but there is never cause for celebration following a lesser-of-two-evils vote. And yet lots of Christians celebrated this one with euphoric joy; saw it as an answered prayer; used words like anointed. I unfortunately opened Facebook the day after the election.

I have been on a thirty-year journey with faith and politics, a journey that began in the early 1990s with me a young, questioning adult and the simultaneous rise of the Religious Right as a political movement. As Evangelical (for lack of a better term) churches gravitated toward the proselytization of a political strategy, I was saved from dismissing Christianity and moving on entirely, in part, by stumbling upon the writings of Will D. Campbell who demonstrated for me that there was a different way to be Christian, and I concluded that for me following Jesus meant that I must love everyone, regardless. Both sides. All humans. Even enemies. Learning to “live reconciled” became an important phrase to me, as did “indiscriminate love.”

But that really messed me up. Loving everyone is a recipe for loneliness in a culture insistent on choosing sides, winners and losers, us and them. On one hand, I could see the pain felt by those that experienced decades of cultural condescension and blindness to class inequality from the Political (and Religious) Left while on the other hand growing increasingly cognizant of the centuries of pain felt by those that experienced the terrible injustice and marginalization perpetuated by the Political (and Religious) Right. So, I eventually learned to bite my tongue a lot, choosing instead to plant seeds, attempting not to alienate either side in an attempt to love and maintain relationships with everyone. I chose to work within a lot, behind the scenes a lot. And I felt guilty a lot for not doing and/or saying more.

My interpretation of Christianity remains, but in time I sought a quiet freedom from a life where I am not allowed to be fully authentic, and I am grateful for the wonderful feeling of liberation that I now experience. But given my own emotional reaction this week, and given numerous private texts and conversations with friends from all over the country that we made on our long journey toward personal liberation, my personal freedom seems self-serving and wholly insufficient.

But what to do?

That question has dominated my thinking, and I am grateful for anything I have heard and read from Dr. Tressie McMillan Cottom in the aftermath of the election (like the full Daily Show interview). Dr. Tressie has helped me tremendously (and I thank my friend, Chalak, for telling me about her in the first place). And I have also benefitted from articles written by both David Brooks and David French after the election, white men from conservative backgrounds who through their columns have assured me that my visceral reactions to the election aren’t simply because I drank Kool-Aid at the Liberal Vacation Bible School.

Collectively, they pulled no punches in saying that chaos is coming but emphasized that despair cannot be allowed to be the mood for long. Dr. Tressie advised, “Don’t cry too long over a sinking ship,” and the subject of David French’s email read, “We don’t have time to waste time in despair.”

French wrote, “There’s a temptation to retreat. If you have a stable job, a good family and good friends, you can check out of politics. After all, politics can be painful. It’s not just the pain of loss, but also the pain of engagement itself. MAGA is extraordinarily cruel to its political opponents. But despair is an elite luxury that vulnerable communities cannot afford. If Trump was telling the truth about his intentions — and there is no good reason to think he wasn’t — then he will attempt a campaign of retribution and mass deportation that will fracture families, create chaos in American communities and potentially even result in active-duty troops being deployed to our cities.”

So, while sad and tempted to quit caring, even that, as depressing as it sounds, is “an elite [and selfish] luxury.” Here are my commitments instead:

#1: See. I choose not to give up on my faith commitment to see all people—i.e., to love neighbors, regardless of anything. David Brooks published an important book last year titled, “How to Know a Person,” and his post-election column explained something Will Campbell helped me see long ago, i.e., a “redistribution of respect” that led to a “vast segregation system” between the Political Left and those that now comprise the base of the MAGA movement. Brooks’s post-election column titled, “Voters to Elites: Do You See Me Now?,” reminds me that condescension creates problems and does not cure them, and I won’t abandon my desire to see all people as human beings equally worthy of sincere love and respect.

#2: Speak. This, I confess, feels like my greatest challenge. One change I must adopt moving forward is a willingness to speak up more, even though that will risk alienation from and dismissal by people that I love on every side. It is tempting to bite my tongue, especially when I want to remain in relationship with everyone, but I think David French is right when he says we are compelled to “speak the truth.” He explained it this way: “Telling the truth means combating deception and misinformation, but it also means publicly defending the dignity and humanity of the people and communities who are the object of Trump’s wrath. It means resisting malice when we encounter it in our churches and communities.” Remaining silent might appear to preserve relationships, but it forecloses all prospects for true justice and real harmony. This blog post is an initial and meager attempt to speak up more.

#3: Act. Finally, as hard as the first two are to do, they are insufficient without action. David French wrote that we must “protect the vulnerable,” but I like how Dr. Tressie said it best: “Don’t cry too long over a sinking ship. Build dinghies.” To continue the nautical metaphor, the Brooks column concluded this way: “[W]e are entering a period of white water. Trump is a sower of chaos, not fascism. Over the next few years, a plague of disorder will descend upon America, and maybe the world, shaking everything loose. If you hate polarization, just wait until we experience global disorder. But in chaos there’s opportunity for a new society and a new response to the Trumpian political, economic and psychological assault. These are the times that try people’s souls, and we’ll see what we are made of.”

I want my soul to pass this test, so with thanks to Dr. Tressie and the two Davids, and after much reflection, I have concluded that it takes all three: See. Speak. Act. Looking backward in despair, looking inward in contemplation, and now looking forward with resolve, that is what I commit to do.

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