Amanda, taking on the politics of “nyah nyah nyah, so there!”
I’ve let dogs sleep in bed with me and I prefer the old-fashioned match to air freshener in the bathroom. But I also have no problem with subtitles and know the difference between wines. If you want to harangue me, you have a million openings, and loved ones in my life from both sides of the divide avail themselves of that opportunity.
Which is why I find a lot of this cultural grudge match baffling. I’m just not offended at someone sneering at me for being moved by “Cowboy Take Me Away”, nor am I really offended if a family member mocks me for not eating gravy. People try to offend me for drinking Miller Lite, and I can’t care. And yet we’re supposed to believe that there’s all this sneering that should direct the fate of a nation.
Granted, the silly season culture war stuff is actually hiding much more serious disputes—over the rights of women, over race, over secularism, etc.—but what I fail to understand is how much of the nation has become convinced that your taste in coffee drinks and beer should have much bearing on your politics. The Republican argument is, after all, “You love country western and cheap beer, and urban liberals sneer at you, so vote for this war and various other injustices.”
And what a lot of this comes down to is confidence and comfort. If you’re generally secure in your place in the world, then your consumer choices being mocked doesn’t mean all that much. Your appearance, what you drive, what you own, what your haircut costs and the brand of your shoes, who the fuck cares, because you’re doing just fine, so go ahead and laugh.
What the Republicans are doing with this “you vote what you drink” bullshit is to prey on the insecurities of people who know their lives are screwed up and they’re not where they should be in life. It’s a way to make you feel like you’ve got something special when in truth you’re being lied to and stepped on and laughed at. If we tell you we’re giving you nothing, we’d better make it sound like it’s something, that nothing. Otherwise you’re gonna notice right quick that your hands are empty and your house just burned down. Feeling vaguely upset that your job pays less than your male neighbor makes, or your car costs $45 to fill up, or your road has potholes the city can’t afford to fix, or your kid’s school has a hole in the roof, or the only shopping option nearby is a Wal-Mart? You might want to change things, and we can’t have that, so let’s take all the things you’re freaked about, and all the things that make you nervous, and make them points of pride. Make them ways you’re special.
That’s how a rich big-city dweller like Rudy Giuliani can talk about small town values. That’s how an insanely wealthy trophy husband like John McCain can talk about the working class. That’s how Sarah Palin can become the hockey mom heroine. That’s how they do it, convince you they’re one of you, by turning what you see as problems into what they see as promises.
It’s the oldest underdog trick in the book, and I use it all the time, I’m not knocking the idea of turning societal disadvantages into inherent virtues. In my life I’ve always worked for the smaller paper in a market, the poorer organization out of two, the smaller group up against a bigger one. I know all about the motivating factor of having your shortcomings transformed into strengths but this isn’t that, do you see what I’m saying? This isn’t a way of telling people, “You’re less well off, so you have to fight harder to make it and we’re gonna help you,” it’s “you’re less well off, so ENJOY THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR POVERTY by making fun of people who drink chardonnay, and vote for this war we have here.” It’s not motivation, it’s poisonous encouragement of apathy and insecurity, a cynical capitalization on what everybody thinks they know about themselves: that they should be doing better, that they’re trying everything to do better, and not getting there.
Republicans don’t want to help them, they just want to continue the policies that put them there in the first place.
A.