Coronavirus Diary: The limits of being an introvert

I used to be an extrovert. When I was single, it was rare the night I went home from work, had a meal, and went to bed. I'd stay out, and stay out late -- not always with people, but always in a place where I could be with people.

Getting married didn't change that -- not the desire part, anyway. (Obviously, my habits did.) Having a kid didn't change that. But the surgeries I had in 2011 did.

Going out since then has taken energy. It's been difficult to arse myself to do much but sit on the couch and stare at a computer. Occasionally, I'd get out to have breakfast with a friend. But mostly I stayed home, even to work. I missed my old way of being, but I also didn't know how to be a person among people the way I used to. 

It was kind of depressing.

So. Not a lot changed for me when the pandemic set in. I work at home. I stare at the screen. I eat. I go to sleep.

Somewhere in the last week, though, I've hit my limit. I am desperate for people again. I miss hugging people. I miss enjoying just being around them. I miss conversations. I miss feeling good about having the friends that I have after a conversation.

I'm feeling kind of crazy. I also don't want to die. I hate everything I failed to do when I could do it. And I fear that if I can do it again, I'll go back to not doing it. 

The Trumpist trolling of The Lincoln Project

I've been arguing for awhile that if Trumpism is understood not just as ideology but as a particular style -- trolling, for lack of a better word -- than the NeverTrump Republicans who make up The Lincoln Project are fighting Trump with Trumpism.

At Vox, Jane Coaston more or less confirms this theory:

One tweet describes President Trump’s campaign as a “criminal enterprise.” An ad — with the hashtag #TrumpIsNotWell — shows the president struggling to walk down a ramp, and another mocks the size of the crowd at Trump’s rally in Tulsa, Oklahoma, saying, “You’ve probably heard this before, but it was smaller than we expected.”

They’re all from a political action group called the Lincoln Project, and according to co-founder Reed Galen, they’re meant for one specific audience: Trump himself.

“We have what we call ‘an audience of one’ strategy, which is clearly aimed at the president,” Galen told me.

So: Trolling.

As Coaston notes: "Some observers have argued that the campaign operatives responsible for the Lincoln Project are, through their deep ties to the pre-Trump GOP, indirectly responsible for his rise. Lincoln Project board members helped George H.W. Bush win office in 1988 and George W. Bush win reelection in 2004, as well as down-ballot races where their ads often featured the same kind of fearmongering they now appear to abhor."

More than that, some TLP folks -- and their allies -- cultivated a conservative culture of trolling long before that word became Internet currency. They're the ones who encouraged (and benefited from) the rise of figures like Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter as "thought leaders" for the conservative base. Those figures, in turn, were foundational to Trump's rise.

Lots of liberals like to share TLP ads on Twitter when they come out, and it's easy to get gleeful at their audaciousness. But if Trumpism is both the result of and cause of a vulgarizing political scene that is, ultimately, bad for Democracy, then what might feel good -- and maybe even be effective, in the short run -- might ultimately be destructive. 

Hugh Hewitt's very terrible plan to save the economy

Hugh Hewitt:

To restart the economy, Congress needs to give Americans access to their own savings.

If Americans could withdraw up to half, or a third, or even a quarter of the funds they have saved for retirement, hundreds of thousands of Americans would do so. And they would use those funds to rebuild their lives and survive this economic storm. The economic takeoff would be sharp and prolonged.

This is a terrible idea, for a couple of reasons: First of all, it requires a rewriting of the rules that's more complicated than "let's just give people money," which the government has done once already with fairly successful results. 

But also: Taking money out of your retirement account now -- assuming you're not a journalist, like me, with puny retirement savings -- is a good way not to have the money you want for retirement later. 

Quartz, 2018:

"In a perfect world, you never touch retirement savings until you retire. Taking it out before then not only reduces your savings, it robs you of years of compound interest. If you are 35 today, taking $10,000 out of a retirement account would leave you short $68,000 when you retire, assuming a 6% average annual return.

A third reason this idea is bad: It does nothing to help poor people -- including poor workers -- who don't have much in the way of savings. Giving them money to spend helps them AND helps the economy when they spend. Encouraging people to dip into their retirement savings now just clears the way for another economic crisis a few years from now, when retirees find themselves short of the cash they need to live comfortably.

A brief thought about The 1619 Project

I guess we're still doing this:

I've tried a couple of times today to write about this and failed. So let's be plain: Secretary Pompeo's preference is for a history that omits the viewpoints of Black people.

If you get rid of the perspectives of Black people, of Native Americans, of the Chinese, and so forth, then it's pretty easy to construct a "good, better, best" narrative of history.

If Black people aren't really part of our American community, but an "other" upon whom we can enact our national self-improvement, if they're just extras in the movie of our national life, then Pompeo's criticism of The 1619 Project makes sense.

But if they are part of they community, if they are part of us, then American history is far more tragic than the story we like to tell ourselves.

The Civil Rights Act was passed in 1964. The Voting Rights Act was passed in 1965. Loving vs. Virginia was decided in 1967. This is not ancient history. My parents were teenagers when those events occurred. These events were less than a decade before I was born. The history of America as a nation whose laws fulfill the promise of all people being equal is, in the long march of history's sweep, a very recent thing -- and far from perfected.

The 1619 Project had some imperfections, I'm aware. But I'm convinced the main problem people like Pompeo have with it is that it refuses to flatter our collective vanity. The 1619 Project aspires to liberty and democracy -- indeed, its foundational essay asserts that Black people have perfected our democracy despite what has been done to them -- but it won't pretend this country was born in goodness. We earn our goodness. It is not conferred upon us by myth. Pompeo prefers the myth. 

Bag O' Books: THESE TRUTHS: A HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES

Three thoughts about THESE TRUTHS: A HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES, by Jill Lepore:

* The book follows two streams of thought -- one that weighs, from the earliest moments of European settlement in the Americas, whether the United States has lived up to its creeds, and another that follows how various technical and media developments (the rise of newspapers, telegraphs, radios, television and the internet) have affected the evolution of our democracy. Long story short: We've fallen short a lot but also progressed -- though Lepore doesn't elide the falling short in order to put on a happy face. As for the technology: America has seen a lot of utopianism that never really panned out.

* It's good to read history during these crazy times. America has "been there, done that" with division and dissension so much over the centuries -- and not just during the Civil War. It's good to remember that we're not experiencing much that is new, that hasn't been experienced, by generations prior to our own.

* If the book has a flaw, it's in the last chapter or two as the timeline moves into the modern era, where Lepore's evident rage at current events shines through. It's not exclusively reserved for the right, as you might expect: She rails against campus hate speech codes and deplatforming, as exercises that go against the debate and free speech that are at the heart of a vital democracy. She didn't sign "The Letter," and this book came out well ahead of that, but it seems likely she is sympatico with its sentiments. 

Movie Night: PALM SPRINGS

Three thoughts about PALM SPRINGS, coming up:

* This movie has been compared with GROUNDHOG DAY a lot, and that's fair as far as it goes. But whereas the earlier movie is all about self-improvement, PALM SPRINGS is more about surrender, about finding peace -- and maybe happiness -- in the mundane grind that is this life. That sounds like messages that are at odds with each other, but I don't think they have to be. I'll have to sit with it.

* Cristin Milioti is the soul of this movie, playing so many layers of emotion as she explores her reactions to the time loop. The camera focuses on the eyes of its lead characters a lot, and Milioti's eyes are so big and expressive. She's been around for awhile, but this movie should make her into a bona fide star. I'm not sure how the pandemic affects the star-making machinery these days, though.

* I owned Genesis's INVISIBLE TOUCH cassette when I was a kid, so I cannot tell you how excited I was to hear "The Brazilian" during PALM SPRINGS. Loved that track.

The big business of conspiracy mongering

Oliver Stone is still trying to find JFK's real killer:

The NYT heavily annotates its interview with Stone to point out that his grasp and interpretation of facts can, uh, depart from mainstream understandings of the matter. But it struck me to read this interview on the same day President Trump retweeted this bonkers bit* of conspiracy mongering:

Back to Stone: His movie, JFK, which was all about evidence of a conspiracy to kill the president in order to really go to town on the Vietnam War, reportedly made more than $200 million worldwide during its run in 1992. I saw it in the theater myself! The film received eight Oscar nominations, including for Best Picture.

I mention all this by way of making what is perhaps an obvious point: Conspiracy mongering in the United States is often, well, a profit-driven enterprise. A studio invested its money into creating an alternative version of the JFK assassination, and it reaped benefits. A substantial portion of moviegoers ended up believing that alternative version as a result.

I don't doubt Stone believes everything he says. (I think -- contra his theory -- the evidence suggests JFK was stumbling into Vietnam on his own anyway.) But it took a whole system to bring his belief to mainstream culture. We didn't get here by accident.

* "Bonkers bit of conspiracy mongering" is redundant, I know.