Essays, opinions, prose, or stray thoughts.
No, No, No, It’s Not 1984, It’s Animal Farm, Duh
There was this 2016 election thing. And, yes, it really happened. And no, it didn’t go the way we thought it would. Okay, we were supposed to just zombie-march down to the polls and elect our first woman president. We knew the world expected it even though we were completely worn out with the Clintons and felt Hillary was a tad frosty and disconnected from the realities of everyday life. And it seemed she had long since stopped hanging out with real people and had become fond, even buds, of the uber rich. When you get older you start to think, “Will I have enough?” But, we were indebted to her, sort of, so we kind of slogged on even though our hearts weren’t in it. And she did seem to take it for granted that we owed her and now it was time to collect.
We had just gone through eight years with a black president, so it wasn’t as if we weren’t capable of pushing the enveloped. But this time there was no electricity, no snap, no sizzle, just this monotonous drumbeat of moral and righteous indignation from the Right. Tramp, tramp, tramp. And they seemed to take up every inch of the moral high ground, pushing and shoving one another to make room for the ones who were the most self-righteous. There were so many during the Republican primary it must have been a challenge finding lecterns for them all to stand behind. It was, well, crowded in Holier-than-thouville. And throughout it all there was Hillary, just totally oblivious to the hubbub. So, the line of morally superior talking heads grew longer and longer and longer. But she wasn’t paying attention to this increasing horde of men prepping for an attack on her, she had to concentrate on trying to smile and look inclusive.
Then the door opened and the reincarnation of Richard Nixon fused with George Wallace fused with Clarabell the Clown walked in. And the world changed. It is true Richard Nixon was a president, was presidential, and wanted to be king. It is true George Wallace was a racist, was a white supremacist, and was beloved in the South. It is true Clarabell was a Clown. It is also true, Clarabell’s vocabulary was extremely limited, so much so, in fact, that he carried only two horns, one for “Yes” and one for “No”. But when he pointed those horns at the peanut gallery they understood exactly what he was trying to say and would break out chanting, “Lock her up! Lock her up! Lock her up!”
Any adults nearby would shake their heads in disbelief. It was so, so, what? Reminiscent of something fading from our collective memory? Something from history, maybe? But oh my gosh, gosh, gosh. History is interesting. History, history, history. History is history. And, looking back, now, all these years later can we believe those people in Germany ever thought they were producing a monster, one raised in, nurtured by, and elected within their very own system? What did they do while they were aiding and abetting the destruction of Western Civilization, simply go on with their doggy day to day existences while their government, with their tacit approval, was actively murdering millions of innocent men, women, and children? Did they really care? After all, wasn’t life so much better now? These were people who went to church on Sunday, who praised God, who sang “Hosanna in the highest” as they stood in the choir in long white robes, fellowshipped, and had neighborly picnics on the grounds. Their children ran around on the church grounds chasing one another until they rolled in the grass laughing hysterically. Their mothers cried out, “Jurgen, don’t get grass stains on your lederhosen, you’re wearing those to church tonight!” All this while someone was being gassed or machine-gunned. And there’s no connection? Really? There is NO connection?
Sorry. There most certainly is a connection and here it is: the Second World War was a race war that cost millions of lives and very nearly destroyed the modern world. It was a war for white supremacy. The vaunted Third Reich was reserved for üebermenschen. Üebermenschen you will recall from your historical notes was the term Hitler usurped from Friedriche Nietzsche who had made the term popular in his Also Sprach Zarathustra. And as is frequently the case when political movements take someone else’s ideas and twist them to their own ends, Hitler’s version of an üebermensch was only slightly similar to the concept espoused by Nietzche himself. Sorry, Friedriche, we don’t really remember your esoteric and compelling arguments, but Adolf’s version is bitterly etched in our minds forever, or so we thought.
So, in reality when we first heard that chanting of, “Lock her up! Lock her up!” what older folks unconsciously heard was the echoing of “Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!” But this wasn’t actually aimed at Hillary. It was really aimed at her boss. And America’s army of white supremists were champing at the bit looking for an opportunity to exact some revenge for the eight years they had endured under a black Barrack Obama, who, by the way, was immediately under every hypocrite’s microscope and criticized for every single thing he did as soon as he was elected. Maybe you noticed. But, oh, how forgiving we have become lately.
And this scrutiny was in no way political, it just played out in a political arena. His blackness unlocked the cupboard of Jim Crow America. Everything was criticized, down to the color suit he wore, or putting his feet on the desk in the oval office. What nerve! This uppity son-of-a-bitch put his black feet on the desk in the oval office in the whitehouse. Don’t think Fox News didn’t have a field day with that.
But, ever-vigilant Fox was on the job. They weren’t going to let him poke a finger in America’s eye, by golly. That’s why they doggedly tracked down and reported on this man’s every move, this American, this loving father, this adoring husband, and this sports enthusiast (yes, he made stupid picks in the NCAA Basketball Tournament and showed them to people and then laughed along with them when they blew up), that this man, this president who deeply loved and worked tirelessly for his country, this black man, this Constitutional law professor from the University of Chicago, this United States Senator had sneaked out behind the Whitehouse for a cigarette. Oh my God! What have we come to when we condone such behavior, when we pretend it is morally acceptable for this black President of the United States of America, to sneak around to grab a smoke? Is that a sign of moral weakness? Is America on the precipice? Surely God Himself must be appalled! Must be time for some good, uplifting, solid moral Christian guidance, and if need be, a little direction from all the religions (oh, that’s right, God is white). Well then, hope he didn’t have to pay off anyone. And that uppity black wife of his, talking about the importance of nutrition and encouraging girls to dream big about things only boys were supposed to care about. Oh, they were a sorry pair. Sorry, sorry, sorry. No, what we needed to make this country great again was to encourage our staunch white mothers to shove potato chips and pizzas in their younguns, then complain about the government meddling in their lives, hand their kids loaded Glocks, and tell them if they get in a pinch to call their cousins on the police force.
But I diverge, back to the election. So, we go to the polls. That’s where the true spirit and intent of America was to be revealed. We were at a sinkhole in History. There were no real ideas, no overarching “cause celebre,” no real and impending dangers. We had games to play, trades to make, and disasters to worry about. We really weren’t interested in politics outside the football field. But we were still the United States of America. We had to stand for something, didn’t we? I mean standing or kneeling is something that makes a difference. It’s important, right?
Okay, by God, we thought deeply and pushed on. Let’s show the world why we are still the “shining city on the hill.” Let’s go hand in hand down to the polls and prove that democracy is not a mistake, that we are, truly, the “last best chance” for the world. Let’s show that this beautiful experiment is not yet done, that we haven’t succumbed to the Orwellian predictions of 1984. Okay.
Let’s at least show the world how we operate, that we are mindful and reflective and ever vigilant of the rules of propriety. Let’s reassure everyone that we are still guarding the gates of Justice, Equality, and Opportunity established with the blood and tears of our forebears, that we are still worthy of their respect and admiration, that we are still the United States of America and not some third world rat hole run by thugs and thieves.
But now we are back at that election. And it wasconfusing. There were so many Republican candidates and so few Democrats. And that’s weird. Did that imply the Republicans’ were closer to, and more articulate of, the true meaning of democracy? Or that the Democrats were lazy, self-satisfied, and content to lie back and rest on their previous accomplishments (and there hadn’t been a lot of those in the last twenty years)?
The Republicans were angry; there is no denying that. But it wasn’t just anger. They had been insulted. Even the pro wrestling fans felt they were being looked down upon. They felt the Obama administration thought they were ignorant and unproductive and considered them, oh, I don’t know, “deplorable.” So the Republicans were carrying a lot of baggage. It looked like the Democrats were home free.
But Democrats were unhappy as well. For years the party had failed to step up and represent them, failed to support auto workers, failed to support teachers, failed to support workers, in general. This group that had been one of the linchpins of the Democratic Party was turned away like a leperous vagabond. Owners were important, workers were, well, workers. In reality, the modern Democratic Party looked a lot like the old Republican Party (thank you Bill Clinton) and the old Democratic Party had ceased to exist. As for the Republican Party, it had just quietly slinked away. And what was left was two tribes of total opposites who couldn’t agree on anything. Or so it seemed. Hey, hey, hey, when there’s nothing else there’s always, ta da: education. And that’s where the Democrats dug a big grave and jumped in head first.
The Democratic Party didn’t just fail to support teachers, it just flat sold them out to the lowest bidder. The political world had become more poisonous, so democrats had to do more and more to appease the powers behind the powers to be. In short, they had to suck up to the extreme right, which became more toxic with each passing day. So they started cutting deals, the kind of deals used car salesmen make. By the time the deal-making was done, no one was safe. The Right had won without firing a shot. Everyone, but the teachers, got their money and after that, who cares? After all, had we not reached that point in our evolutionary development where success = savings? You may not have books. You may not have bathrooms that work. Half your children might be going without lunch. But you saved ten dollars. Success! Tell those teachers they may need to pick up some supplies for their needy students. Oh, and there will be no raises this year. And insurance will go up again. Now that is how to do it. And it is not a problem, so chill out. All the middle class white kids are going to be home-schooled or in private schools on vouchers, anyway. So, the only ones left in public schools (that have to abide by all the rules congress passes) are the poor ones, e.g. the blacks. Uncle Jim Crow will absolutely look into that. For specifics on the results of that inquiry, just send a text message to our Secretary of Education. She’ll get right on it.
So, the Democratic Party was not only undemocratic, it also had nothing to offer other than hollow slogans, rhetoric no one believed, and hands dirty with crumbs from the cookie jar. As for the Republican Party, well, it had ceased to exist. The Radical Right was telling everyone what to do. And they openly threatened their quivering horde of politicians who had signed contracts saying they would not under any circumstance negotiate in good faith or betray their conservative principals. Really? Betray them to whom, the founding fathers, the Constitution, the Declaration of Independence?
The comparisons to 1984 started soon after the election when we began to realize we had a mess on our hands. It was obvious we were going to be faced with a realcult of personality, not your average little man with a big ego, your big bragger, your run-of-the-mill chest-thumper, your annoying ego-maniac. Oh no, not this time. This was going to be a full-blown, no holds barred, devil take the hind most, cliché-engendering Narcissistic assault.
Suddenly America was starting to look hopelessly dysfunctional. The word “dystopian” was bandied about. Manipulation became the operant buzzword. Was the whole election thing manipulated the way life was manipulated in Orwell’s 1984? There were plenty of similarities. To think that some second rate television hack could outrun a whole army of Republican politicians who had perfected the art of dissimulation was almost unbelievable. There had to be something going on, right? Was Facebook really just a doofus tool of the KGB? And all those info sources spewing unfiltered nonsense, was that just a manifestation of newspeak? And the every day business of rewriting history right before our eyes, of actively changing the course of recorded events without even bothering to go through a stage of marginal denial, now that was brash. If you didn’t like the way something looked just say it was something else entirely. Suddenly there was no such thing as putting a spin on something because spin was all there was.
The Whitehouse Press Office quickly morphed into the Ministry of Truth (or Minitrue to those on the inside) and began the task of revising facts into fiction. It was a bit hit or miss in the beginning, but eventually they were able to find a spokesperson who held the truth in such absolute contempt that things began to settle down a bit. So, as Sarah Minitrue continued from day to day, the real press waited to see if Ms. Minitrue was even capable of acknowleging a fact. And surprise, surprise, she was not. Ah, progress! We had finally reached a point in America’s history where nothing coming from our government could be accepted without secondary verification. That’s a milestone worth noting: NOTHING THE GOVERNMENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA SAYS CAN BE TRUSTED. Wow! Now that’s making America great again.
It didn’t take long before we grew almost comfortable with the idea that “war is peace,” “freedom is slavery,” and “ignorance is strength.” After all, the proles were not supposed to question anything, just get in line and move along. Don’t look left or right, and, for God’s sake, don’t question anything coming out of the Ministry of Truth. If Sarah Minitrue said it, it had to be, even if it changed every hour. Truth, apparently, is fluid. Who could have known?
There are a jillion more comparisons between the current status quo and 1984, and it is certainly understandable that the novel could be cast as an example of current events predicted in a past time. That is all plausible, at least to an optimist, one who thinks there is still some thinking going on. Except for one thing.
1984is a representation of a social and political order that was long in the making, based on complex interlocking principles, and controlled by a sophisticated network of rules and regulations. In short, it was complicated. And that simply does not square with what we’re seeing these days. No, what we have before us is a clumsy, steamrolling, power grab. We have a goon squad shoving everyone out of the way so they can take over control of everything that has the potential for making a buck. If it doesn’t make money it is headed for oblivion. It is Animal Farm.
Animal Farm, Animal Farm, Animal Farm. Did I mention this is not 1984? Remember, everyone was fed up, both the Republicans and the Democrats. Everyone was discontented. Although the “farm” seemed to be running along okay, not everyone was appreciated equally. The top of the pecking order seemed to be pecking the most and leaving little for the ones underneath. That means there was some hard core discontent. No. That means there was a LOT of hard core discontent.
All those people who wanted so desperately for something to change, for government to take an interest in the governed, for the representatives to represent them, felt the moment had come for the backbone of America to stiffen. The Democrats were offering the same old same-o; they didn’t even bother to put a different ribbon on it. After all, this was supposed to be an anointing of the “President in Waiting.” There wasn’t going to be any “real“ difference, we would just have the “right” person doing nothing.
The Republicans, in the mean time, backed up the old bandwagon and off jumped seventeen, count them, seventeen candidates. Even the Republicans couldn’t tell their candidates apart without a program. As each explained what made him special, it became painfully apparent that they were almost exactly alike. And that meant they were dead set on continuing to do what had been disgusting everyone all along. So, evidently it was going to be more of the same from the Left and more of the same from the Right. Stand up sit down, fight, fight, fight.
How galling that must have been down on the farm, where all the animals were toiling away, day after day. Where the auto workers were working. Where the teachers were teaching. Where all those who had waited for the fruition of their denial of instant gratification from past elections waited. They had been promised much and given little. Everyone agreed we needed to be frugal. It’s just that no one agreed they needed to be THE sacrifice we all had to make so a few rich people could get even richer. Man o man, what is wrong with this picture? Maybe it is time for a revolution. And it just so happened there was this Clarabell the Candidate who was honking and pointing at all the others. It wasn’t really clear what his message was except that he hated everyone, thought everything was a joke, and wanted to destroy the status quo. And he wanted to drain the swamp. Isn’t that what everyone wanted? Wasn’t thatthe real problem with America? Just a bunch of sorry asses who only cared about themselves, and getting reelected so they could keep on worrying about themselves?
To make a long story a little shorter, this guy, this “let’s help the little man and kick some establishment ass” man actually won. And he won because he said he was one of them, that he was going to drain the swamp. So, guess what? The District of Colombia had never seen a swamp like the one that followed this guy around. And the day he was elected he started running for reelection because he considered us all morons.
In Animal Farm terms that makes him Napolean. And oh yes, he’s going to avail himself of all the amenities, the big house, the freedom to come and go as he pleases. After all he has his gopher to run around telling everyone what he really means. And Mr. Mike Squealer is good at it, almost seems that he was born to it. But maybe that is a quirk of perception, because when the animals crept up to the white house and peeped through the window they were dismayed because they couldn’t tell the pigs from the farmers. They were all corrupt. No one’s singing Beasts of England now. So, who cares? Maybe it’s true: All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others.