If Only Cobra Commander Had Recruited Santa

Well, here we are at the Christmas season again. Too much eating, too much drinking, too much spending and too much bitching from the Scrooge types who are sick of the same 10 Christmas songs being recycled over and over again by everyone from Bing Crosby to Lady Gaga. I wonder if said Scrooge types understand that the only thing more tiresome than Christmas music, which we’ve all been hearing since a week before Halloween, is them bitching about it. Probably not. It’s not that said Scrooge types aren’t self-aware, but rather that they don’t care about being self-aware.

Anyway, I don’t know what the hell that had to do with my topic, which is toys.

I ran across a YouTube channel called, RetroBlast, which is some nerd and his wife who review ‘80’s toys and the cartoons that resulted from Ronald Reagan and said ‘80’s toys. The guy (I don’t know his name) says that the “big three” toy lines that every miniature human with a developing penis either owned or wanted were Transformers, G.I. Joe and the Masters of the Universe.

As a witness to the events between President Carter’s unceremonious departure from the White House and the dismantling of the Berlin Wall, I can state unequivocally that this is a fact. I was big on Optimus Prime and his merry band of talking robots, as well as Cobra Commander and his incontinent hiss. All of my friends were also big on Transformers and G.I. Joe. Strangely, none of us collected the He-Man toys. Some of us watched the cartoon, but that was just filler until Transformers came on at four. Besides, you have to admit that, even by today’s standards, Skeletor was a pussy compared to Megatron.

My first Transformers toy came to me Christmas of 1984. Up to that point, I was big on toys called, Super Powers Collection. These were basically action figures based on the Superfriends cartoon. A Superman figure that could actually punch the air was cool, but a tape recorder that could be changed into a robot was way, way more awesome. I played with my Joker toy for about five minutes, but kept going back to Soundwave and his little buddy housed in his chest compartment, Buzzsaw. Buzzsaw was just like Laserbeak, but with a less cool name.

I forget the name of my second toy, or third, or fourth. I do remember collecting Cliffjumper, Megatron, Skywarp, Prowl, Brawn, Slag, Inferno, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Blitzwing, Ramjet, Ironhide, Longhaul, Shockwave, Blaster, Smokescreen and the entire Airealbots team throughout the years of ‘85 and ‘86. But my biggest prize was Jetfire, a huge jet that turned into a robot that stood at about a foot tall. Mom got him for me but said I had to wait until Christmas of 1985 to open him. But then, she bribed me by telling me that if I practiced piano every day for a month without complaining, she’d give him to me. I did it, and playing that stupid E-scale was never so painless. It was the first lesson I learned about how positive rewarding can work with a kid, as long as the reward is Jetfire.

I should testify truthfully that I tried to steal a few Transformers from my classmates at school. I pilfered Swoop, Bombshell and Windcharger, but I always got caught in the end. I wasn’t a particularly clever criminal.

I will also testify that my enthusiasm for the Transformers toys was directly influenced by my love of the cartoon. Yup… I was a product of those evil capitalists who wanted to sell toys to kids. G.I. Joe and He-Man were already around in September of 1984 when the first three-part Transformers miniseries hit the airwaves of KOLN-KGIN, the CBS affiliate that covered the cities of Lincoln, Grand Island and Kearney. He-Man was kind of meh for me. Even as a kid, I always thought that John Erwin sounded like a wuss trying to pass himself off as an alpha male. Duke, Flint and Destro were more interesting. For the first time, I saw cartoon characters engage in fistfights and gun battles. Of course, none of them were ever shot and or wounded by gunfire, but who cared. Imperial Storm Troopers never hit anyone either, and Star Wars was real life action, man! So why would it matter? Still, none of those characters impressed me as did Optimus Prime as he stood atop Hoover Dam and did battle with Megatron.

I have to stop my meandering stroll down memory lane to pay homage to the guys who did the voices of The Transformers cartoon characters. Most of the boys in my tiny 4th grade class watched the show, but the other guys could see the robots change into cars, planes, dinosaurs and even a handgun. I could only hear it. Thus, guys like Peter Cullen, Frank Welker, Chris Latta, Casey Kasem, Michael Bell, Don Messick, Dan Gilvezan and Corey Burton were the stars of the show to me.

Oh sure, I collected G.I. Joe toys as well. My love for them sprang up more in the summer of 1985. I had Cobra Commander, Duke, Quick Kick, The Baroness, Shipwreck, Flint, Ladyjaye, Zartan, Ripcord, Blowtorch, Airtight and all of the Dreadnoks. For Christmas of 1985, I got the Crimson Twins (Tomax and Xamot), as well as Perceptor and Redalert. I went through a love affair with the Joe toys for about nine months, but my affinity for The Transformers lasted for over two years.

Sidebar: My first stab at sex education came, not from the stupid, awkward lecture from the school principal and nurse, but from my futile efforts to place my Flint and Ladyjaye action figures in various positions that were meant to simulate copulation. It was a sorry effort that was also inspired by the cartoon series. If Bill Ratner or Mary McDonald-Lewis ever happen to stumble upon this blog, #SorryNotSorry.

My passionate romance with The Transformers officially ended at the premier of that accursed Transformers movie. The writers killed off Optimus Prime, along with most of the original toys that were scattered around my bedroom floor at home. I’ve heard tales of some kids crying in the theater. I didn’t cry. I was alternately mad and sad. As pathetic as it is to admit, Optimus Prime had been a major hero to me. He was a character that had unwavering morals, a strong sense of loyalty to his followers and a courageous mechanical heart. Sure, guys like Duke, Flint and Roadblock were American patriots, but Optimus Prime seemed to carry something larger with him. I can’t explain it, other than to say that he gave those of us lonely kids who felt empty something to look to when times got rough. Recess was full of physical and emotional bullies, but I took heart in knowing that Optimus Prime would be waiting for me when I got home, always ready to do the right thing. Sure, I took visceral pleasure in watching the Joe Team beat the crap out of those hapless Cobra troops, but Prime employed a measure of compassion toward the innocent. Decepticons were contemptuous and violent toward humanity, calling them names like, “Earth germs.” Prime always defended humanity, arguing that freedom was the right of all beings.

It seems strange to think that, of all the toys I collected, the Optimus Prime toy was not one that ever made it into my basket.

AND THOSE ASSHOLES KILLED HIM!!! They scrapped him and replaced him with freakin’ Judd Nelson, Robert Stack, Leonard Nimoy, the Micro Machines guy and… Orson Welles!? Citizen Kane as a planet-eating monster. What a way to go out. I can understand why Orson did it. He wasn’t getting a lot of other offers and he had to pay for his expensive wine habit, but why the hell would Leonard Nimoy take a voice role like that? He was doing just fine and Star Trek: The Great Whale Chase, was about three months from hitting the screens.

Anyway, I tried to keep up with the TV cartoon, more out of habit than anything, but Rodimus Prime and Galvatron were poor substitutes. Meanwhile, G.I. Joe brought Sergeant friggin’ Slaughter, a professional wrestler, on board to do battle with Serpentor. Cobra Commander was kind of a clownish terrorist, but he was fun and colorful. Serpentor, by contrast, was just boring. Think about it! Serpentor had the DNA of Vlad Tepes in his makeup, but he never got around to sticking Cobra Commander up on a pole.

In Christmas of 1986, I got Ultra Magnus and Kup. I also got the Cobra Night Raven. Galvatron was my last toy, given as my 12th birthday gift in February of 1987. I played with them for a time, but the magic was fading. By the summer of ’87, I was watching crime shows like The Equalizer, Mike Hammer and Simon and Simon. I had also been introduced to old-time radio and had quickly become a fan of The Shadow and The Green Hornet. The cartoons seldom got turned on and my toys were relegated to a plastic basket in my closet, eventually to be taken downstairs and stored somewhere in the basement. The surviving toys would come out again years later, when my little nephew Hunter discovered the same love of Star Wars and The Transformers that I’d had as a kid. Yeah… We’re getting too close to Toy Story territory here, so I’m gonna move on.

I think my parents had hoped that I would grow out of toy cartoons in the sixth grade as many of my peers were doing. Honestly, I didn’t fully turn my back on the show until early in the seventh grade when the whole Headmaster thing hit and I realized that reincarnated Optimus Prime had outlived his usefulness. My parents breathed a huge sigh of relief. Maybe I was gonna finally grow up and go out for wrestling and hit puberty. Their rest bit was short-lived, because about a year later, I discovered Star Trek on VHS, available for rental at Video Kingdom. Mom and Dad stood aghast at the fact that they had sired, not only a blind, chubby, reclusive middle kid, but a nerd as well.

I did, of course, buy the DVD’s of both the G.I. Joe and Transformers cartoons in the early 2,000’s. I humbly admit that it is my prerogative to break them out and sample them every now and again. They are hopelessly dated, of course, but I get a warm feeling when I watch them. You’re entitled to judge me if you want, and I’m entitled to tell you to kiss my fat Polish ass. I’ll tell you this… Optimus Prime and Megatron have aged a hell of a lot better than Hostess Cupcakes and Twinkies. There was a time when I couldn’t imagine one without the other.

I particularly admire the voice artistry of the actors I listed previously. Peter Cullen said it best when he spoke at some Comic Con panel or other. “The only way you can do a job like this is if you really, truly love it.”

It is interesting that, in hindsight, I find The Transformers to be more compelling than G.I. Joe. It’s also interesting that, of all the Christmas gifts I received during my childhood, the ones that stand out most in my memory are the Transformers toys, as well as the cassettes of old-time radio programs given to me by my grandparents at Christmas, 1987.

My final thought is that I find it odd that Transformers and G.I. Joe have gotten several major movies, while Masters of the Universe has not. Maybe the 1987 film with Dolph Lundgren did what Skeletor never could and killed He-Man, dead. Then again, if you look at how the modern Transformers movies turned out, maybe He-Man and Skeletor got the better end of the deal.

If only Cobra Commander had brainwashed Santa Claus, he would’ve had all of the kids saying, “Merry Chrisssssssssssssstmasssssssssssss!”

PS: If you guys aren’t able to read this blog in about two weeks or so, it’s because Steve Sawczyn, the guy who gets the bill, was a He-Man fan.

If Only My Cane Were a Spear

The following rant is dedicated to Ralph Ellison.

There are a lot of blind people who traffic in what I call, outrage porn. Those are the long, rambling Facebook posts from the likes of Sassy Outwater who, not only point
out some legitimate issues that might annoy us as blind people, but who love to wallow in their own sense of offense. It’s not even so much about what
they say, but the tone in which they say it; or write it, as the case may be. I might agree with some or most of their points, but I find the entitled sanctimony off-putting.

I try not to engage in this behavior. I don’t want to be another faux social justice warrior with thin skin, carrying my minority
status like a badge of honor, all the while acting as if it’s a cross. I’ve found that you can have far more of an impact if you educate with civility
and humor, rather than acting butt-hurt every time someone knocks on the door of the office bathroom while you’re taking a piss with the lights out.

That said, almost every blind person knows of a common set of behaviors by sighted people that vex us no end. One of them is a classic I call, the invisible
blind guy scenario. Yes, ladies, you can switch the gender if you wish.

If you carry a cane or use a dog, you’ve likely been there. It happens when you
are traveling with a sighted companion. You go into a restaurant, bank, store, etc, and the clerk or a passer-by will talk to your sighted buddy as if
you don’t exist. They may ask your companion what you’d like to eat, or ask them to sign for you, or carry on an entire conversation, all the while barely
acknowledging your presence. Everyone does it. No one is exempt. The only common denominator is sight. Men do it. Women do it. People of all races and
sexual orientations do it. Rightists do it. Leftists do it. They are the worst, because they think they’re above it after all kinds of sensitivity training and college education about intersectionality, but it goes right out the window when a blindie approaches.

Today at work, we hosted a videographer who came in and filmed various aspects of our workplace for some documentary or other. I have no idea of the nature of it. My boss brought her into the
control room, introduced me and continued to talk to her. I was in the middle of hurridly editing a file for a political candidate, so it was kind of time
sensitive. Perhaps I appeared busy, but the filmmaker said to my boss, “Can I get some shots of him editing?” She didn’t ask me. She asked my boss.

Over the years, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been the subject of various TV and newspaper puff pieces that were well-intentioned, but which actually
served no purpose, other than to ladle out a heavy dose of inspiration porn about the amazing blind kid/guy. Without exception, every photographer or cameraman
(or woman) talked to my parents, my teachers, my coworkers or some varient, while barely speaking to me at all. “Can he turn this way?” “Can he smile a
bit more?” “Let’s move him over here. This way. This way. That’s a good boy.”

Today, when the lady asked my boss about filming me, I wanted to say, “You
can talk to me, lady. It’s not 1950, we’re not in Alabama and I’m not the kitchen nigger.”

There are three reasons why I suppressed this comment:

1. I love my job.

2. I respect my boss.

3. We live in an increasingly reactionary world that now has little use for context. Megyn Kelly is a perfect example.
She just got railroaded out of NBC after making a racially insensitive comment; a comment for which she apologized. Twice.

No, I kept my thoughts to myself and decided to express them here. No outrage or sanctimony. If anything, I’m just weary of being treated like the invisible blind guy. I know why it’s
happening, of course, People are very tribal. If a sighted person sees another sighted person with a blind person, they will naturally respond more quickly
to the person with whom they have more in common. It’s similar to a person in a foreign country who will gravitate toward someone who speaks their own
language. It’s not so much about bigotry or insensitivity as it is about comfort. Like it or not, differences make us uncomfortable. This filmmaker is
probably a very nice lady who did not mean to be dismissive, but she has likely never encountered a blind person in her life. Should she be expected to
know exactly how to behave when she encounters a situation for which she’s never been prepared? I think not.

Just because I understand what’s going on, however, doesn’t mean I don’t get sick of it. In her memoir, Extraordinary, Ordinary People. Condoleezza Rice says, “I would rather be ignored than patronized.” I agree wholeheartedly with this sentiment. All things being equal though, I prefer neither option. I would just assume have a respectful dialogue.

Anyway, I need to actually get back to work before I get fired for slacking on the job, so I will close with this thought. All of you sighted folks, if you see a blind person with a sighted person, please don’t ignore us. Your courtesy is just as welcome for us as it is with anyone with whom you can make eye contact. And if you choose to engage with us, please talk to us as if we are human beings, not animals or overgrown children.

One last thought… I think Megyn Kelly’s firing is a blessing in disguise.

Cocksucka!!!

There are television shows that do not age well. As much as I was addicted at the time, 24 sadly falls into this category. The program, while a compelling thriller in its early years, adopted a plot-driven formula that hinged on the Hitchcockian ploy of, what happens next. Once you learn what happens next, it greatly reduces the rewatchability factor after you experience your first go-round. There is little emotional reward in watching Jack Bauer save David Palmer’s life when you have the foreknowledge that, three seasons later, David Palmer will be felled by an assassin’s bullet in the name of, just another plot twist. I will always hold a place of affection for the first season of 24, but seldom rewatch anything past it.

Then, there’s Deadwood, a contemporary of 24, as well as other HBO stable favorites such as The Sopranos, Sex and the City, The Wire and Six Feet Under. I rewatch it every couple of years and, contrary to the adventures of Jack Bauer and Chloe, Deadwood grows ever sweeter and more profound with the passage of time.

One year after my move to Omaha, I unwound the first episode of Deadwood on a lonely Friday night and was amazed to discover that I lost track of time as I viewed it. The profanity-drenched Shakespearian dialogue, the complex plot, the wonderfully-woven characters and the minimalistic music all blend together to form nothing less than a masterpiece.

On its face, Deadwood is a western. The first few episodes carry all of the trappings of classic westerns, including a hanging that is little more than a lynching under color of authority, gunfights, gold miners, and even real life western heroes in the form of Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane.

Yet, as you scratch beneath the top soil of this series, you discover that Deadwood is no more a western in the traditional sense than The Wire is a traditional cop show. This truth is brought home with a bang when Wild Bill Hickok (Keith Carradine) is murdered at the end of the fourth episode. Hickok belies the heroic image and is depicted here as a burned-out man who carries his celebrity status like a cross. Calamity Jane (Robin Weigert), long viewed through a historical lens as a tough-talking, quick-shooting female icon of the old west, is painted here as little more than a loud-mouth drunk with a streak of yellow; a loser who just happened to scout for General Custer.

So these two come to Deadwood, not first built as a town, but as merely a thriving, lawless camp in the Dakota Territory. With them come Seth Bullock (Timothy Olyphant), along with his partner, Sol Star (John Hawkes.) All they want to do is build a hardware store and make a modest living, but Bullock’s temper and his strong sense of morality propel him down a certain path until he becomes the local sheriff by the end of the first season. There’s the town medic, Doc Cochran (Brad Dourif), who’s irascible manner is matched only by the demons he collected on various battlefields of the Civil War. There’s Alma Garret (Molly Parker), a rich New York society woman who finds herself in Deadwood against her will at the behest of her doe-eyed, tenderfoot husband. There’s the slimy E. B. Farnum (William Sanderson), hotelier, grifter and spy for whomever has his price. There’s Ellsworth (Jim Beaver), a prospector down on his luck, but who’s affable nature makes him a universally beloved man throughout the camp. And there’s the Reverend Smith (Ray McKinnon), a preacher who brings religion to Deadwood, but who is doomed by a brain tumor.

At the center of it all sits Al Swearengen (Ian McShane), local crime boss, cut-throat and architect of everything shady that goes on in the region. Swearengen is a brutal but efficient criminal who operates out of the Gem Saloon, where he is quick to put a boot on the neck of any of his prostitutes if they get out of line, or cut the throat of any of his underlings should they cross him. His henchmen, Dan Dority (W. Earl Brown), Johnny Burns (Sean Bridgers), and later, Silas Adams (Titus Welliver), are bound to Swearengen by a mixture of fear, respect and loyalty. Even Trixie (Paula Malcomson), his preferred prostitute and sometime confidant is torn by her bondage to him as the series progresses.

The nature of Swearengen’s business makes him many enemies throughout the course of the series. Bullock is the most obvious. The two clash, both ethically and physically as their dealings continue. Al also has competition in the person of Cy Tolliver (Powers Boothe), a ruthless riverboat gambler who opens a larger, more expensive saloon right across the street from Al’s joint. Al also finds his power threatened after Hickok’s murder captures the attention of the territorial government in Yankton, embodied in a commissioner (Stephen Tobolowsky), who is the only man who surpasses Farnum in the unctuous department. And there are the non-human threats such as a plague of smallpox, which forces Al to realize that the camp can best defend itself against external threats if it comes together and forms a local government of its own.

The plague ushers in, not only a body count, but the reality that Deadwood is more than a collection of people brought together by their lust for gold. It is a budding community. If The Wire represents the death of a great city, Deadwood represents its antithesis in the formation of a small town. And here is why Deadwood differs from it’s postmodern contemporaries such as The Sopranos and Mad Men. While those shows are dark, gritty affairs tinged with existentialism, the main theme of Deadwood is growth. Many of the characters who come to Deadwood down on their luck find new strength in themselves as they see the town begin to take shape around them. The outward trappings of civilization begin to appear as evidenced by the formation of a town bank, a livery stable, a newspaper, a telegraph, a school for the children and even a local theater in the third season. Swearengen is the most blatant symbol of growth as he as he undergoes a gradual metamorphosis from a ruthless crime boss to the town’s unofficial mayor by series end.

This doesn’t mean that all characters transform themselves from bad to good people. Series creator David Milch is excellent at painting with shades of gray. Seth Bullock wears a sheriff’s badge and cloaks himself in rigid morality, yet he carries on a passionate affair with Alma Garret, even while his wife Martha (Anna Gunn) and young stepson are traveling to join him in Deadwood. Calamity Jane struggles with alcoholism in the wake of Wild Bill’s death. Doc Cochran, Alma Garret and Steve the town racist also struggle with addiction. Tolliver’s madam, Joanie Stubbs (Kim Dickens), tries to break free of her pimp, only to be driven into the arms of a serial killer (Garret Dillahunt) akin to Jack the Ripper, who has a taste for kinky sex and dead whores.

Deadwood was one of the flashpoints of the Gold Rush that typified life in the latter half of the West of the 19th Century. Naturally, it would draw a ragged assortment of criminals, drifters, drop-outs and honest people as its profile rose in America. And it was inevitable that it would also draw the attention of predatory capitalists. Such a figure arrives in the third season of the show in the form of George Hearst (Gerald McRaney), a greedy multi-millionaire who cares far more for gold than he does for human life. Yet, while he plods through the camp like a juggernaut, attempting to possess everything and everyone within his assumed domain, the town fights back, thereby strengthening their sense of community. Swearengen and Bullock are unlikely allies as they face a common enemy; a story that has played out time and again throughout the course of human history. Hearst is ultimately vanquished, but not in a manner that traditionalists who enjoy stories of the conflict between good and evil will find completely satisfying. The departure of Hearst from Deadwood proved to serve as the unexpected finale of the series as well, much to the consternation of the small but vocal group of fans.

The final episode of Deadwood aired in 2006. For years, HBO and David Milch pointed the long finger of blame at each other as to the reasons why Deadwood was suddenly fed to the pigs. To this day, no one can give a clear answer. The low ratings, even by HBO standards, certainly played a part. Small wonder. Deadwood is certainly not for everyone. The violence is often brutal. The plots are dense and sweeping. The language was often given as the reason why many people were put off by it. It is an irony that the dialogue is simultaneously guttural and elegant. Most of the characters spat out words like “fuck,” and “cunt” as casually as Kim Kardashian uses words such as “like,” and “umm.” “Cocksucker,” was often the centerpiece of many a deadwood drinking game on chat forums of which I was a participant. In short, Deadwood ain’t your grandpa’s western. Other reasons for the abrupt cancelation may have been a growing weariness of David Milch’s sometimes erratic shooting schedule on the part of HBO executives, or a lack of returns in the Emmy Awards department given the expensive nature of the show. At the time, Deadwood was the most expensive show being produced in American broadcast television.

Sidebar: Milch’s erratic production schedule was one of the reasons why he was removed as head writer of NYPD Blue. This was largely due to his fondness for heroin and gambling. In interviews, he claimed to have kicked the former habit by the time of the production of Deadwood, though he was more ambiguous about the latter.

Almost immediately after the announcement of Deadwood’s cancelation, there was talk of the cast and crew coming together once more to do a series of wrap-up movies, or a truncated fourth season… Or something. That was 12 years ago. Rumors have swirled on the internet, but after a series of false starts and empty hopes, nothing came of it. I gave up on the idea not long after I went to Denver, resigning myself to the notion of watching three seasons of epic television every one or two years.

Last July, I was sitting in the control room at work playing on Twitter when I came across a tweet from Deadwood sycophant, Alan Sepinwall. It said something like, “Can’t wait for W. Earl Brown to give us the inside scoop from the new Deadwood movie.” Google told me the rest. HBO had officially confirmed that, yes, Deadwood would indeed be filming a final movie to tie up loose ends. If things proceeded according to plan (and that’s always a big if where Milch is concerned), shooting was to commence two weeks ago. What a herculean effort it must’ve taken to bring all the surviving cast back together for one last hurrah! Or is that, huzzah!?

The only thing I know about the movie is that, of course, it will take place 12 years after the final episode of the regular series. There is no way they could’ve done otherwise. All of the cast members have aged, many of them with other trophies dangling from their belts. Timothy Olyphant starred in another western-style series, Justified; a show that is good, but not great. Titus Welliver has gone on to play Harry Bosch, Michael Connelly’s literary cop in an Amazon series. Ian McShane currently stars in American Gods. Molly Parker has a recurring role on House of Cards. Powers Boothe recurred on Nashville before his death in 2017. About half the cast had guest stints on Sons of Anarchy. Dayton Callie had a regular role on the show. And Anna Gunn (God bless her) played Skyler White on Breaking Bad.

Sidebar: The character I’m most curious about is Doc Cochran, who was suffering from tuberculosis in the third season. There is no way he could have survived another 12 years. Milch assures us that all of the regular cast will appear, except for Titus Welliver. The only way they can possibly incorporate Doc is through a flashback; a technique never previously employed on the series. We are also promised that Cy Tolliver’s absence will not go unnoticed. My fervent hope is that Joanie Stubbs is finally able to rise above her circumstances should Cy be dead.

However the movie turns out, I will be glad of a more fitting conclusion than that which we received in 2006. Whether or not the movie lives up to expectations, at least the wondering and waiting will soon be at an end.

Adendum: 10/23/18

I managed to locate W. Earl Brown’s Twitter feed. He confirms that, yes, the cast and crew are back together and in production. Deadwood the Movie is scheduled for a tentative Spring release. Of course, they are now on a two-week hiatus so that hoopalhead Milch can catch up, but it wouldn’t be Deadwood if things went off like clockwork.

Huzzah!

No! More! NABS!

The first time I attended a convention of the National Federation of the Blind of Nebraska was in 1993. I was in my fourth month of training at the orientation center of the state agency for the blind, known as the Nebraska Services For the Visually Impaired.

Sidebar: This blog entry is only one paragraph old and it’s already full of alphabet soup. NFBN and NSVI. Nice start.

Anyway, the agency offered to pay for my trip, so I went. I was less than impressed. My first impression of the NFBN was that it was full of older, cliquish people who had little use for outsiders. The sessions struck me as nothing but self-aggrandizing chest-thumping. No one in the affiliate seemed particularly warm or welcoming toward me. I don’t remember any outreach of any kind. My roommate was Scott Green (he goes by Mitch now), and we spent most of the weekend in our room watching Star Trek and listening to old-time radio. Our national representative that year was Diane McGeorge. Mitch and I listened to half of her banquet speech, got bored, left the banquet and ordered Pizza Hut back in the room.

My two best friends at the time were Shane and Amy Buresh. I barely saw them that weekend. They were scholarship winners that year and I think we briefly rubbed elbows at the scholarship reception. Shane mumbled something to me about starting a student division, but I brushed it off. I hadn’t yet started college and the thought was overwhelming to me, so the idea of a group of blind college students didn’t even register.

I left the convention that Sunday knowing that I had no use for the NFBN. When Della Johnston, the state president, approached me a few weeks later and asked me to take over the NFBN’s weekly radio show on KZUM, I jumped at the chance. This was it! My big break in radio had finally come!!!

I was far more excited about it than were the members of the Lincoln Chapter of the NFBN. I went to their January meeting so I could get to know them better. Barbara Walker was particularly unimpressed with me. The feeling was mutual. To me, she came off as a stuck-up, pretentious old blind biddy who looked down her nose at those who didn’t drink the NFB Kool-Aid. At one point I said to the group, “I agree with some of the stuff you guys think and I will probably join at some point.” Barbara’s retort was immediate and succinct. “Why not now?”

Barbara’s answer came about two months later, when I hijacked the NFBN Pioneers radio program on KZUM and made it my own. I called it, “In a Different Light.” No more NFB propaganda. I was going to focus on the disability community at large. Sure, the NFB could come and talk if they wanted, but so could the ACB. So could the League of Human Dignity. So could Mitch Green, advertising his newly-formed company, Alternative Technologies. As long as it was disability related, it was fair game.

The program lasted another three months before I went home from college for the May break. When I came back for summer session, I simply let the show go. I can only imagine the tongue lashing that Barbara and others gave Della over her serious miscalculation.

Yet, history seems to vindicate Della. She dug the hole in the NFB garden by forging a personal relationship with me and allowing me to fulfill one of my dreams. Still, it was Shane and Amy who planted the seed. I think it was February of 1995 when Shane invited me to attend a meeting of the Nebraska Association of Blind Students at Peru State College. The preceding October, Amy had been elected president at the state convention. We made a weekend out of it, complete with trips to the Dairy Freeze in Steve’s Bowling Alley in Auburn. The meeting itself was attended by the three of us, plus their weird pal, Chuck, who also served as our driver. Mass transit has not yet come to Southeastern Nebraska.

I’d like to tell a grand, emotional tale of how Amy decided to pass the torch to me in 1996. Honestly, I can’t remember her talking to me about it. I don’t remember agreeing to accept the job. I merely remember Amy stepping down as NABS president due to the fact that she was going to graduate the following May. She passed me the baton, I got up and said something like, “Thank you, all. I hope I can be half the president that Amy has been.”

My memories of my one term as president of NABS are mostly happy ones. I recall meetings in the basement of Selleck Hall on the UNL campus where a small group of us planned fundraisers. They culminated in the selling of candy bars, which was always a big hit with college students. I also remember our participation in career fares in partnership with the state agency. We did guest panels, mock game shows and trivia contests, social mixers where food and innocent card games were present, and picnics in the park.

But my fondest memory came at the state convention in 1998, at which we held a joint convention with the Iowa affiliate. Just after I stepped down as NABS president, I offered to shave my head bald, auctioning off each stroke of the razor for one dollar per shaver. All proceeds, of course, went to the NABS treasury. It was a big hit and I looked ravishing with no hair.

I left the presidency because I had dropped out of college, but my participation and support of NABS did not end. A year after I stepped down, Mike Hansen took over as president. NABS continued to partner with NSVI, soon to be rebranded as the Nebraska Commission for the Blind and Visually Impaired, for student and career fares. We continued to fundraise and, most important of all, we continued to spread the positive message about blindness to college students throughout the state.

My memory of the chain of successive NABS presidents after the turn of the century has faded somewhat, but I do know that Ryan Strunk eventually became the president. Involved with him were Jamie, Wes, Amy 2.0 and eventually, Randi. All of them went on to achieve bigger leadership roles in the state and/or national movements. Eventually, Karen became the president. Although she validates some of the negative stereotypes about elitism in Federation leadership, she did in fact become active on the national stage as well. As of this writing, both Karen and Amy 2.0 are working for the national office. Other NABS members of later generations included Kayde, Kelly, Stephanie and Bridgit. I have to believe that their exposure to NABS helped mold them into the leaders that they are today.

I moved to Colorado in 2007. I had very little interaction with the Colorado student division while I was there. My feeling was that, while I am supportive of student divisions, there comes a point when the more seasoned adults should move on and let the college students run their own show. This doesn’t mean pot brownies at the CABS parties, but only that those of us who moved on past college should let them make their own mistakes and celebrate their own failures with support and feedback available only upon request. When I moved back here to Nebraska, my plan was to do the same with NABS. Just let them do their thing and contribute to their treasury at every state convention when NABS snacks were being sold at the back of the convention room.

I was heading back from a board meeting with Bridgit a few weeks ago and we were discussing the current state of our affiliate. I don’t remember what lead to it, but Bridgit casually said, “Yeah…and NABS is gone.”

It hit me like a baseball bat in the stones. NABS was gone. NABS was gone. I sat there, not knowing if we were heading to Omaha or South Dakota, and felt completely stunned. NABS, my path toward taking the NFB seriously. NABS, where we spent so many late nights planning how to engage the students at a Round Tuit seminar. NABS, where then President Amy Buresh held regular agenda items called, “Cathartic conversations,” in which we discussed how to help more people become aware of the Federation. NABS, where I learned how to get up the courage to approach a stranger and ask them if they wanted to buy a candy bar for the cause. NABS, where President Ryan Strunk conducted a meeting in a stage whisper because he’d claimed to have lost his voice. Miraculously, it came back later that night at my place when it came time for him to play his guitar. NABS, where I helped the kids load coolers full of water and pop, along with boxes of sandwiches, chips and candy on to a bus headed for a state convention. NABS, where I sat in a chair while locks of my hair fell to the floor as various people clumsily shoved an electric razor against my head. NABS. Gone.

I sit here late at night, the cicadas angrily buzzing in the trees right outside my balcony door, and I ask myself, what the bloody hell happened? NABS was our most important endeavor. That was our best hope of training future generations of leaders to take up the torch and carry it when we moved on. Oh sure, you have national leadership seminars with high-minded philosophical questions and the separating of the wheat from the chaff, but nothing takes the place of the forming of the bond between the local leaders and the students that look to them on a regular basis for guidance and encouragement.

Is this how Woodrow Call felt when he went back to Lonesome Dove, only to discover that the ranch house was rat infested and the town saloon had burned down? He walked the streets of the deserted town and began to question his sanity when he thought he envisioned the one-legged ghost of Gus McCrae coming toward him. “Why, Gus?” he asked. He was really asking, what was the point? What did their 3,000-mile cattle drive really mean?

Why? Why? I sit here and ask myself that question in my head, and the tone I’m hearing is a mixture of befuddlement and deep, wistful melancholy. NABS is gone. NABS is gone. The “Why?” is followed by other questions. Where did it go? How did it happen? Can we ever revive it? Is this a sign of a larger trend as many seem to think, or does it represent failure of another kind? I don’t know. I wasn’t here for the last decade. I don’t know where the blame lies, or if any blame exists at all. I only know that, if we of the Federation cannot pass the torch on to future leaders in this state, we are doomed to the dusty corner of the memories of those who lived through the glory times. And all of those people who lived will eventually die, their memories, nothing but ghosts.

Conservative Concepts: The Nature of Human Nature

I referenced “A Conflict of Visions,” by Thomas Sowell in my last entry. It serves as the perfect Segway to address another conservative concept that I’ve been pondering for a while now. It is the essence of human nature itself and how it is viewed through different ideological lenses.

“A Conflict of Visions,” is a dense and dry read, but a worthwhile one if you can manage it. It speaks to the question that so many idealists love to pose at parties and in groups when they want to act as if they are above the fray of political strife. Why can’t we all just get along? If people would just drop the political partisanship and pull together, we would all be so much better off. Cue John Lennon’s “Imagine.”

Sowell addresses that question with an answer that is bitter medicine to swallow, but valid none the less. People can’t all come together because human nature defies this reality on every level. As humans, we have irreconcilable differences that are simply incompatible in the arena of governance.

Let’s look at it through the prism of pop culture, using two of my favorite television shows as reference points.

On one end of the spectrum, you have Star Trek. This represents a liberal/progressive worldview. In this reality, humanity has risen above itself and has all come together as one. All of the evils of mankind have been eradicated; poverty, racism, sexism, greed, war, Lady Gaga, etc. Humans have perfected themselves to the point that they don’t even need money to survive. The thing that gives them the greatest joy is to explore space and seek out new life and new civilizations. Sowell would have referred to this worldview as, the unconstrained vision.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, you have The Sopranos. In this universe, every single person is greedy, corrupt, gluttonous, adulterous, selfish, vain and often, murderous. Everyone is on the take and therefore is subject to the worst instincts of humanity. Of course, David Chase needs to sell this particular worldview convincingly, so he uses the mafia as its vehicle. But in this world, even the civilians who are not a part of a criminal organization are slaves to the lower elements in the human soul. Mr. Sowell would have labeled this worldview as, the constrained vision.

So, there we have it. In the unconstrained worldview, humans can be bettered to the point of near perfection. The best way to help them to achieve this state of near grace is to implement a one-world government. This government would see to the needs of the people, solving all of their problems through food, healthcare, jobs and education. If humans could merely overcome their impulses toward greed, violence and selfishness, they can be made to realize that community is the most important organism for positive change.

In the constrained worldview, humans collectively tend toward the bad. Individually, they can choose to act in a benevolent fashion, but there is no greater good that satisfies all. Once one or two people fold into a larger group, the varying interests of various tribes begin to compete. Therefore, government must set down a series of laws that will prevent the larger group from breaking down into anarchy. Yet, the constrained vision dictates that a government is made up of the same collective of humanity that is itself collectively governed by those same lower impulses that drive the populous. It is therefore necessary to set such laws that will allow for individualism to flourish, while keeping the powers of a central government present, but in check.

This conflict of visions is at the heart of the irreconcilable differences that have driven competing agendas for centuries. What is the role of government in society? Those who adopt Sowell’s constrained vision view the government in a limited capacity, generally seeing to matters of national security and legal enforcement, while leaving most other matters to the local governments that are closer to their specific communities. Those who subscribe to the unconstrained vision attribute more power to a central government, including financial equity, healthcare, education and so-called social justice.

The inherent problem with the unconstrained view is that, while it remains popular in many circles due to it’s emotional attractiveness, human history clearly falls upon the side of the constrained vision. For centuries, mankind has collectively tended toward greed, war, corruption and the subjugation of its fellow man. This is why Gene Roddenberry set Star Trek 300 years in the future. In his view, mankind could only conquer its own demons through the use of technology.

The original Star Trek series came to be 52 years ago and technology has advanced by leaps and bounds since the days of the black-and-white tube television. Yet, most evidence seems to indicate that the constrained vision once again holds sway. Even though we now live in a digital age when messages can be transmitted instantaneously, when medical equipment is at its greatest advancement, when food production is at a historic peak and when computers play a greater role in the classroom than they ever have, our world seems to be de-evolving into various factions with more and more rapidity with each passing year.

If you don’t care for my use of pop culture to illustrate my point, how about two historical examples; The American Revolution versus the French Revolution.

On the surface, the two revolutions appear similar. The Americans took up arms against an oppressive government because they were weary of being taxed without having a voice in a government that existed over 3,000 miles away from the colonies. The French Revolution occurred because the general populous was weary of being ruled by a monarch and the Catholic Church.

But there, the similarities end.

The French wanted (and ultimately got) their king’s head on a platter. The Americans merely wanted their king to leave them alone. The French rejected religion in all forms, while the Americans incorporated aspects of it into their founding doctrines, while making it clear that the church could not rule the nation. The French Revolution began in anarchy and was restored to order by a constitutional monarchy, which quickly collapsed and was followed by a reign of terror, a democratic republic, civil wars, internal revolts and ultimately, a military dictatorship under Napoleon. The American Revolution was fought by two traditional armies until England surrendered. It was followed by the implementation of a constitution and the formation of a representative republican government overseen by a duly elected president that has stood the test of time, even in the face of the American Civil War. The American Revolution succeeded because, once it ended, the Founding Fathers set down concrete principles of law in the Constitution for guidance. The French Revolution ultimately failed because it relied on sweeping generalities and abstractions as philosophical fuel.

How does this conflict of visions translate in today’s world? Although humans are very complicated, nuanced creatures, the modern manifestation of Sowell’s conflicting visions can be found on the left and the right in the western world. The unconstrained vision is most closely mirrored by Communism, while the constrained vision can be most closely identified with capitalism.

Both systems certainly have their good and bad points, but those who hold the unconstrained vision believe that a centralized government is best able to determine and see to the needs of its people. It is a matter of efficiency. A government can more effectively distribute wealth, prescribe medical care, feed its population and defend its borders by claiming title to and seizing the property of its labor force, which is the people whom it purports to serve. Yet, history indicates that governments who operate within this framework too often become wielders of absolute power, with the coercive imposition of idolatry for itself upon its citizenry.

Those who hold with the constrained vision believe that Communism has illustrated time and again throughout history why humanity collectively tends toward the bad. Communist revolutions from Russia to Cuba to China have always begun with noble intent, but have ultimately resulted in oppressive and totalitarian regimes lording the whip over the masses.

Capitalism, on the other hand, has been the rising tide that has lifted all boats. But while the boats are elevated by natural forces, it is up to each individual pilot whether they will sink or float. Although greed does crop up in capitalist systems, it also provides an environment in which individuals can most easily flourish and thrive upon their own achievements. Those who espouse the constrained vision acknowledge that humans tend toward greed and self-interest. It is far easier to care about your own self and the welfare of your family, rather than strangers. Capitalism, by its very nature, allows people to place their self-interests first. However, when a certain percentage of people begin to succeed and become wealthy, their own sense of self-interest infects those around them through free market commerce. Compulsory government intervention and confiscation is not necessary when an individual’s natural desire for food, shelter and employment will spur him or her on to either employment, or innovation, or possibly both. America is the most obvious example, though other western countries who have followed the capitalist model have met with success.

Sidebar: For a more thorough study of how capitalism has benefitted western civilization, read Jonah Goldberg’s recent book, “Suicide of the West.”

Readers seeking to poke holes in the constrained vs. unconstrained visions might point to the rise of Donald Trump as an argument that conservatism does not, in fact, champion the ideals of individual liberty. Yet, as I have tried to illustrate in these hallowed pages, Trump is not a conservative and his loyal supporters are not subscribers to modern conservatism. Trump represents populism, which is in itself a form of collectivism that exemplifies the constrained theory at its lowest form. While Trump’s adopted party now enjoys dominance in the American political arena, the pendulum will someday swing and, if so-called Democratic Socialists gain a foothold under a figure more compelling and articulate than Bernie Sanders, they too will swoon to the siren song of populism. Barack Obama served as a foreshadowing to what is to come, but more extreme times lie ahead for the American left.

I should point out that America does not represent capitalism in its absolute pure form. The government does regulate our economy to a degree; regulations that tend to fluctuate depending upon the party in power. Yet, the over-arching force that has shaped and continues to shape our country is capitalism. We are certainly not perfect, but our experiment in the cohabitation of government and the free market has largely been a success by any measure.

How do I view human nature? I think the Christian view comes closest to my thinking. We are all sinners living in a fallen world. If humanity is to receive any measure of salvation, it cannot come through human means, whether it be money or governmental force. It must come from a higher, more ethereal power, which is less tangible than anything that mortal hands can touch and mortal logic can comprehend. It must come from God. Sadly, most humans like myself are too constrained by our own limitations to fully grasp this very basic truth.

Little ears! Big ears! Sensitive ears!

The following is a guest editorial from the Denver Post from 2011. I heard local conservative commentator Mike Rosen read it on his radio program and wrote an Email in response. I will paste the editorial first, followed by my response.

I find it darkly ironic, since I now endure Omaha’s mass transit system. Yet, I would not change a word I wrote.

Guest Commentary: A car-free life in Denver
By
Special to The Denver Post
June 7, 2011 at 3:17 pm

We are raised on cars. For many Americans, the idea of riding a public bus or train seems foreign and inconvenient. Car owners who have no experience with
public transportation may believe a car is always the necessary method to get from here to there.

Two years ago, I moved to Denver from Chicago, well practiced in public transportation and committed to life without a car. To me, there is independence
in the car-free lifestyle. It is freedom from hefty car payments and dealings with insurance companies. It is the freedom to walk any way I want down one-way
streets, to cut through fields of untouched snow on the way to the store, to observe the moving city around me without worrying if I am holding up traffic
or about to cause an accident.

It is the opportunity to get more exercise and support a cleaner environment.

The year after college, I lived in a suburb of Seoul, South Korea, where public transportation was not just abundant, it also was efficient. Digital postings
at stops and stations told me exactly when the next bus or train would arrive. (They arrived often and crowded.)

Few of my peers owned cars in Chicago. We all took the “L” or bus to work or play — always a faster and cheaper alternative to driving.

So when I moved to Denver, I searched for an urban neighborhood that had all necessary conveniences within walking or busing distance. I settled on Uptown,
where, unlike other neighborhoods, I could walk to the grocery store, the movie theater, restaurants, cafes, shops, and the bus stop.

In Denver, when I tell people I don’t have a car, I get varied reactions of bewilderment: “You live without a car?” “Isn’t it dangerous?” “Isn’t it inconvenient?”
“Doesn’t it take longer?”

To these questions, I ask: Have you experienced the pleasure of reading a novel all the way to work? Do you know the convenience of finishing work on the
commute home? Do you know the peace of mind in not worrying about ice and snow? Have you watched the world move from day to night during the 5 o’clock
rush while someone else stresses about traffic?

This freedom, however, comes at a cost. Without a car in Denver, it takes longer to go just about anywhere. It takes more planning and more patience. The
appeal of owning a car is not lost on me, especially in Colorado, where cars are necessary for trips to the mountains and Sunday rides in the foothills.
Like most American cities, Denver’s adequate but inefficient public transit system will never reach its full potential without more citizens who use it.
Denver could lead the country in greener, community-oriented practices that encourage lifestyles where we walk, ride and bus more often.

Denverites, in general, love the environment, are committed to healthy lifestyles and will do anything to be outside. So why does it seem like the number
of Denverites who support those ideals is disproportionate to the number who use public transportation?

Denver needs improvements: safer bike routes, more comprehensive light rail, more bus users so routes run more frequently and at a lower cost. The city
needs more neighborhoods like Uptown, whose conception begins with, “How can we make this neighborhood as self-sustained as possible?”

The other day, when I got on the No. 10 bus on the way to the Highlands, I found it full of middle-schoolers on a field trip. For many, it must have been
their first experience on a bus. I applaud their teachers for exposing them to public transportation. On this trip, the kids no doubt learned where to
catch the bus, how to pay their fair and how to act.

We may be raised on cars, but we can learn to move in other ways. The first step, truly, is to try.

Elizabeth Costello of Denver is a writer at Children’s Hospital Colorado in Aurora.

June 9, 2011

Dear Mike:

I listened to your program today on public transit with great interest. I am a blind guy who relies on public transit on a daily basis. I’m currently unemployed, though I recently worked as a cashier at Lowrey Airforce Base; a job I could not have done without the aid of RTD. I’m also a rarity, a blind man who is a conservative. I’m stating this directly so you won’t misunderstand the intent of my message.

Elizabeth Costello’s guest editorial seems to serve RTD very well. It’s full of the same puffy propaganda that I read every day, courtesy of RTD’s Twitter feed. If Ms. Costello is as fulfilled as she claims to be, living life without a car and at the whims of RTD, then I am truly happy for her. More to the point, I’m amazed by her.

Most of us who use RTD services do it, not because of any moral obligation or intrinsic desire. Quite the opposite. We do it because we are compelled to avail ourselves of bus and light rail to get where we need to go.

I relocated to Denver four years ago from Lincoln, Nebraska, and RTD is a big step up from the pathetic transit system I was forced to endure there. RTD is a good bus system with good hours and adequate coverage of the Denver area. Having said that, if I could wave a magic wand and restore my ability to drive a car, I would do so in a heartbeat. I hasten to add that I’m not whining about my blindness. I live a comfortable life. I’m merely acknowledging that a car is a far more convenient mode of transportation than is RTD.

During your program, you stated a number of sound objections to public transit in favor of the automobile. The most persuasive argument for me was the time factor. This past Memorial Day, some friends and I decided to visit a local restaurant for lunch. If we were to have hired a driver to take us, the ride from my front door to the restaurant would’ve taken approximately 10 to 15 minutes. Since my friends and I are all blind, we naturally took the bus. From the time I walked out my front door to the time we arrived at the restaurant, an hour and five minutes had elapsed. This was due to a phenomenon I term, The Domino Effect.

An RTD route often involves one or a series of transfers from one bus to another, or from bus to light rail and back, in order to reach one’s final destination. If one of those buses happens to be even a minute or two late, it can cause a disruption that can result in the collapse of the traveler’s intended schedule. In our case, the driver of the originating bus was a few minutes late. The connection we needed to make was tight, so I asked him to radio ahead and ask the driver of our connecting bus to wait until we got to our first stop. I was within my rights as an RTD passenger to request this as it was in compliance with RTD policy. However, the driver either couldn’t or wouldn’t make the call. I’m not entirely certain as to his reason, since the driver’s thick accent made it virtually impossible to discern what he was saying. Whatever the explanation, we missed our transfer and had to stand at the bus stop an additional half-hour and wait for the next bus to arrive. I am hard pressed to think of a comparable inconvenience we would’ve faced had we been driving a car.

I mentioned previously that I used to work at Lowrey Airforce Base and that I used RTD to get to and from work. The commute home to Littleton usually took approximately an hour and 40 minutes. Near the end of my employment, I hired a driver to come pick me up after work and take me directly home. It cost more money, but it cut my travel time by over half. The cash I spent was well worth the extra hour I got to spend at home unwinding from the day.

As a regular RTD passenger going on four years, I had to chuckle at some of Ms. Costello’s assertions. She talks of happily trudging through snowy fields to get to the store. Such a scenario would constitute an annoyance for me at best and a nightmare at worst. Snow travel is often difficult for blind people and usually results in wet clothes, cold feet and in some cases, bruises or even broken bones. Moreover, I don’t know a single sighted person who would enjoy such an activity when they could more easily drive to the store.

The biggest laugh I got from her commentary came when she wrote about a joyful trip on the number 10 bus with a group of middle school students. I’ve taken many a long and arduous voyage with children of middle and high school age. I’m not a puritan by any stretch of the imagination, but I wouldn’t perform a sex act on my worst enemy with the mouths of any of those juvenile brats. The cacophony of yelling, swearing, extraneous cell phone conversations and blaring electronic devices results in stress that is only made worse by passive drivers who refuse to enforce RTD’s policies of civility and low music volume by all bus passengers.

Furthermore, if I could get back all the time I’ve wasted waiting on buses and light rails in my life, you and I could take three back-to-back cruises together. By the conclusion, maybe you will have broken down “A Conflict of Visions,” to a comprehensible level for me.

I’m not writing this to disparage RTD. They have a job to do and they do it fairly well. But Ms. Costello’s premise is that a car-free lifestyle is what she prefers and that more people should join her in this mentality. This is utter nonsense.

Recently, the National Federation of the Blind unveiled a car that could be operated independently by a blind driver. This was just a test run and I don’t suggest that a car will solve all of our problems, but if such a thing becomes a mainstream reality, I will kick, beat and claw my way to the front of the line to buy one in order that my life may become more convenient. You’ll be my first stop, Mike. We’ll go out and lift a jar or two and you can begin your translation of Thomas Sowell for me. Until that happy day arrives, thanks for taking the time to read this.

Yours truly,

Ryan Osentowski

That was written in June of 2011, three years before I took a job in Boulder that required me to spend over four hours a day commuting to and from work via RTD. It was also three years before ridesharing services like Lyft and Uber became a reality in my life. With that experience in mind, plus the downgrade to Omaha’s meager bus system, let me add a few additional thoughts to Ms. Costello’s assertions.

She says, “Have you experienced the pleasure of reading a novel all the way to work?”

A lot of people read novels while driving a car. Ever hear of audio books?

She asks, “Do you know the convenience of finishing work on the
commute home?”

Nope. I leave work at work. Based on some of the cell phone conversations I heard from my fellow RTD passengers, I wish they would have as well.

She further asks, “Do you know the peace of mind in not worrying about ice and snow?”

Umm, I presume you mean while riding the bus? I spent many a harrowing walk to and from the bus stop during Denver’s cold winter season worrying about ice and snow. And we won’t even talk about Nebraska’s brutal winter season. I nearly got killed more than once while worrying about ice and snow.

She says, “Have you watched the world move from day to night during the 5 o’clock
rush while someone else stresses about traffic?”

Yes, the buses in Denver were much more crowded during peak hours. However, if traffic or weather were severe, the passengers did not simply chill out and ignore it. The collective stress level would go up exponentially if we were in a traffic jam or an ice storm. See my above remarks about The Domino Effect for clarification.

IN closing, it’s been seven years since I wrote that Email to Mike Rosen. I miss Denver. I miss RTD. I miss Mike. Sorry, Elizabeth, but I still want a car.

The Future is Obdurate

Is the future really feminine? It’s a popular slogan right now, but as usual, it’s a slogan that does not stand up to scrutiny.

I will readily admit that the best boss I’ve ever worked for is my current boss, Jane. She is fair, firm and friendly. Most of all, she doesn’t cramp my style. She allows me to
implement that creative spark that makes my job such a joy. My two coworkers are women and I get along with both of them swimmingly. Bekah is a Sith lord and she’ll force choke me if I don’t write that, but never mind…

You might read that and say, “See, ass-kisser!? The future is female!”

Whoa there, Trigger!

The worst boss I ever worked for was also a woman. Her name was Tonya and she was the manager of a BEP location where I ran a cash register in Colorado.
She wasn’t technically the boss of the company. Her blind husband ran the place (on paper), but she was definitely the power in charge. Tonya was rude,
brash, conniving and unscrupulous. I spent months in a cold war with her, documenting all of her transgressions, before I quit one step ahead of being
fired. She actually sexually harassed me one day on the job. I’m not being flip. It really happened. One of the happiest days of my life was the day I
heard that Tonya and her husband were frog-marched out of their location with termination papers from the state. All of their employees (including me)
testified against them at a state hearing. When they walked out of the hearing, the city of Lakewood was waiting to slap tax leans on them. I have no idea
where she is now and I don’t care.

So, which female future are we in for? Jane, or Tonya?

Why I am a Federationist

From the Braille Monitor:

Why I Am a Federationist: Both Ends of the Spectrum

by Ryan Osentowski

From the Editor: The following speech was delivered at the 2002 convention of the NFB of Nebraska. Ryan is now a junior philosophy major and is
still a Federation leader: secretary of the Nebraska affiliate, first vice president of the Lincoln Chapter, and NFB-NEWSLINE� coordinator for
Nebraska. I uncovered this document the other day and remembered why I had thought it would be a fine addition to the Braille Monitor sometime. This
issue seemed to need some leavening of hope and inspiration. So here it is:

In considering why I am a Federationist, my train of thought began with the obvious reasons. The National Federation of the Blind is the largest,
most powerful movement of the blind in the country. We’re doing more for the blind than any other consumer organization for and of the blind. We’ve
developed NFB-NEWSLINE, America’s Jobline, and the Kernel Books. We have built the National Center for the Blind in Baltimore; training centers
in Colorado, Minnesota, and Louisiana; and now the NFB Jernigan Institute. We work every year to pass legislation that benefits the blind at the
local, state, and federal levels, and we come together annually for our national convention so that we can be heard en masse. Then we have the Braille
Monitor, divisions of all types, and a plethora of historically important speeches by such greats as Jacobus tenBroek, Kenneth Jernigan, and President
Maurer.

I decided that the best thing for me to do would be to describe my ascent to the Federation and throw those facts in along the way so I could demonstrate
how great the NFB is. Then I realized that most of the people in this room already knew about those things. Those who don’t will come to know about
them during the course of this convention. I decided that my speech might seem redundant and I would have to throw in some jokes just to keep the
crowd awake.

Then my mind turned to more personal reflections. I thought I would talk about what I have benefited from in the Federation. But as I thought about
that, one of the many voices in my head broke free of the chaos and said to me, “Easy there, Ryan O. You don’t want to come off looking too selfish.”
I agreed with Mr. Voice, knowing that I shouldn’t take this opportunity to stand before a convention audience and look like a golddigger. Yet for
some reason the word “selfish” stuck in my head, and I began to ponder the concept of selfishness. What is it, and what does it truly mean? So
I ran with the idea of selfishness.

When we think of selfishness, we view it negatively. We think of selfish people as putting themselves first, people who are egocentric, self-centered,
and greedy. Those traits are often present, but is that all there is to the picture? What would happen if none of us ever acted selfishly? The
chances are that our lives would go nowhere. When Jacobus tenBroek founded the National Federation of the Blind in 1940, what were his motives?
Were they entirely selfless? Probably not. He surely wanted a better life for himself. He would not have been content to spend his days as a blind
man begging for food and money just to live. He wanted more than that.

When Kenneth Jernigan became involved in the Federation, was he doing it just because he had nothing better to do with his time? Not very likely!
He did it because he wanted to improve the quality of his life. He believed that there was more to life than making furniture at home to help support
his family. When our own state president, Carlos Servan, was blinded in a military accident in his home country of Peru, he could have stayed home
and become a wine taster. But he wanted more for himself as a blind person, so he came to America and achieved it. Didn’t these men do what they
did for selfish motives? Wasn’t a great deal of self-interest and self-preservation involved? Of course!

When I was growing up in my hometown of Kearney, my parents pushed me to strive to be better than average. They wanted me to be happy and successful
in life. Were they wrong to teach me these things? I firmly believe that my parents are a big part of the reason I am standing before you today.
They taught me to some degree to be selfish in my life.

Let me expand that idea. Many of us have selfish motives for being part of the Federation; let’s admit that. We all love socializing with our friends,
throwing parties at conventions, traveling to places like Washington, D.C., and rubbing elbows with the folks on Capitol Hill. Many of us get a
kick out of those things, and nothing is wrong with that. Yet something beneath those superficial desires also drives us. We all want better lives
for ourselves as blind people. We all want to be employed and work at a decent job, making decent money. Many of us want to go to school and acquire
a quality education. We all want to live in a world where our dignity as blind people will be protected from humiliation and discrimination.

Isn’t it selfish to want these things for ourselves? Yet they are positive, healthy things to strive for in our lives. How would it be if we all
just wanted to sit home with no job, no education, and no goals in life, indulging in simple, everyday pleasures? I say that this would be selfish,
but not nearly selfish enough to be constructive.

If we were an organization of people focused only on ourselves, we wouldn’t get very far. What about the other end of the spectrum? What about
selflessness? We all know what that term means, don’t we? A selfless person is someone who does for others or puts others ahead of him- or herself.
Isn’t that also a large part of what our movement is about? I mentioned Dr. tenBroek and Dr. Jernigan earlier and the fact that they were probably
fueled by selfish motives when they founded and built the National Federation of the Blind. Yet it only makes sense that a large part of their
motives were selfless. They were wise enough to realize that life does not exist in a vacuum and that their actions would affect many others. Sure,
they wanted a better quality of life for themselves, but they also wanted a fuller, richer quality of life for all blind people.

If you doubt that, just look at history. Dr. tenBroek endured a civil war within his own organization and stepped down as president for a time.
Yet he stayed. Dr. Jernigan endured public abuse from his enemies and the media during several years as NFB president in Iowa, but he kept on fighting
for the blind. Could you continue in a job where you were assaulted every day? Would you want to continue when everything from your character to
your personal life was attacked from every angle? Wouldn’t any self-absorbed man say, “Enough! I’ve had it! You go your way and I’ll go mine, and
that’s the end of it. Starting right now, I’m looking out for number one!” If you can say no to that, than you are a stronger person than I. Most
people would walk away, but these men didn’t. They stayed because they realized that the welfare of the blind was more important than their own self-interest.

That spirit of selflessness is still with us today. I recently attended a leadership seminar in Baltimore, and Dr. Maurer told us about his upcoming
schedule. He read his calendar to us, and we all noticed that he didn’t have a free weekend for at least three solid months. Can you imagine working
a full-time job with no free weekends? That would be tough on us and our families, wouldn’t it? Yet he does it without complaint because he realizes
that it is necessary for him to work tirelessly for our cause.

Our movement is so successful because men like President Maurer, Dr. tenBroek, and Dr. Jernigan were selfish enough to want more for themselves,
but selfless enough to want and work for it for others as well. As it is with so many things, a healthy balance must exist between the two. If
we leaned too far in either direction, our efforts would stall, and we would become bogged down.

The selfish and selfless motives of our past great leaders are still remembered today through many of our actions in the Federation. Take, for
example, our scholarship program. We’re giving money to students so that they can improve themselves, thereby improving the quality of their lives.
We also do it in the hope that they will come back to us and give the Federation the time, effort, and love a movement like ours requires of many.

America’s Jobline is a service for people to use to gain employment so that they can achieve the same result. When more blind people find jobs,
it makes us all stronger. Those training centers I mentioned earlier are there solely to teach blind people to do for themselves, but they also
help more blind people to become independent and demonstrate a more positive image of blindness that will benefit all of us.

I could go on, but I think you understand. The Federation continues to teach blind people to strive to do better for themselves. We have our own
motives that are both selfish and selfless. Whatever our members’ personal motives are, we have plenty of altruism to go around. Thousands of people
dedicate their time, energy, and loyalty to this organization, and they don’t receive monetary rewards for it. The rewards are intrinsic, knowing
that we are building a better life for blind people in our country. People join together each year to help raise funds, spread our positive message
about blindness, take minutes, balance the treasury checkbook, lobby for new and better legislation, spend time on the phone with newly blind people,
bring people to chapter meetings, chair committees, and do countless other things that benefit our organization. They do these things because they
are selfless.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is why I am a Federationist. I’ve gained a great deal personally during my time here. I’ve had a lot of fun, but I’ve
also had the chance to grow as a blind person. My confidence has increased, and my attitudes about blindness have improved. My goals for myself
have expanded. Yet while I have taken my share of what the Federation has to offer, I would be remiss if I didn’t realize that I must give back
as well. When the day arrives that all blind people can work in an atmosphere of fairness and equality; when everyone, blind and sighted alike, comes
to know and respect our philosophy about blindness; when people are not ruled by their fear and ignorance of blindness, my time as an NFB volunteer
will be over. Until that day comes, I will stand proudly upon the barricades with my blind brothers and sisters, helping to make our positive vision
of the future come true.

Don’t Kick My Dogma

Every Friday afternoon when I open Jonah Goldberg’s G-File newsletter, I am tempted to share it on various social media, then cut-and-paste the text of it in this blog for preservation, much like my grandma used to paste newspaper articles in her scrapbook.

Yet, I restrain myself. I used to try forwarding his stuff to select friends and family, but no one ever gave me any feedback. It felt as if Jonah’s words and my efforts were futile.

But this G-File, published last Friday, June 29, might be one of the most profound that he has ever written. I was seriously considering saving it even before I read an article in the New York Times. It’s as if the author read Jonah’s newsletter, then wrote an article bound and determined to prove his point.

I will first offer an excerpt from Jonah’s newsletter, followed by excerpts from the New York Times piece which appeared in the A. Section, not the opinion pages. That in itself is telling. I will leave the reader to judge the obvious correlation for him or herself.

First, here is Jonah Goldberg’s newsletter.

Dear Reader (Including those of you not cursed to endure the sweatpant-fog climate of Washington, D.C.),

Sometimes we use certain words only to describe the forms of that word we do not like.

Let me explain: Let’s imagine that my daughter says, “French food is awful.”

I respond: “What do you mean?”

She replies, “Snails, Daddy. They eat snails.”

To which I retort, “Oh, I agree. We never should have let them talk us out of those toasted cheese sandwiches, that time. But you love duck confit and
croissants. That’s French food, too.”

Daughter: “That’s different.”

The same dynamic plays itself out in many political and policy debates.

My go-to example of this is the word “censorship.” Over my many years of debating with intense libertarians of the left and the right, I’ve heard many
times that “all censorship is wrong” or “I am 100 percent against censorship.”

“Oh really?” I ask. “So riddle me this: The FCC prohibits hardcore child pornography on Saturday-morning TV. Are you against that?”

The answers tend to vary, but one very common retort is something like, “Oh come on. That’s not censorship; that’s just reasonable regulation. Besides, no
one is proposing doing that.”

To which I reply — and I’m going to stop using quotation marks because this is getting silly — of course it’s censorship. You just approve of it, so you
don’t call it censorship. As for the fact that nobody is proposing running kiddie porn in the cartoon hour doesn’t mean much. If someone did propose it,
you’ve conceded that it would be reasonable to proscribe it. Ergo (an incredibly douchey word to use in debate over beers, by the way) you’ve conceded
that you’re not 100 percent against censorship. Censorship, in other words, is the word we use for censorship we don’t like.

Now, I’m being unfair to people who have better or more interesting responses to my case, but that’s okay because a) that’s very rare and b) I’m not here
to discuss censorship.

There are all sorts of words that work this way in our politics. Every day I hear people say that one shouldn’t be “dogmatic,” or that their political
opponents are dogmatists, or some such. But as I have written many times, everyone subscribes to all manner of dogmatic convictions — and they should.
People not dogmatically opposed to genocide, premeditated murder, rape, etc. aren’t brave and pragmatic free-thinkers. They’re sociopaths.

The accumulation of dogma — good dogma, duck-confit dogma, not-snail dogma — is the process by which civilizations advance. In a state of nature, man is
open to all possibilities if he can be convinced he will gain an advantage in a bid to survive. With no controlling moral authority beyond the basic programming
of our genes, we were free to take the shortest route between any two points, so long as we believed it would work out well for us. Even after the Agricultural
Revolution, civilizations defined morality largely according to what benefitted the rulers. Child sacrifice — common around the globe for millennia — seemed
like a plausible way to get better crop yields, so why not go for it?

Over time, through the process of trial and error informed by reason and faith, we accumulated some conclusions about how society should operate. These
conclusions became dogmas. Dogma is simply the word we use for settled questions we no longer want to reopen. Not all dogmas are good. Some are evil, to
be sure: child sacrifice, slavery, etc. But the process of refining our dogmas is what makes us, if not human, then certainly humane. Conversely, the process
by which we unthinkingly smash dogmas without understanding their function is the fastest route to barbarism. The Bolsheviks rejected the dogma of universal
human dignity and slaughtered people with an abandon more closely resembling the Aztecs than anything resembling secular humanism.

Here’s how Chesterton put it:

When [man] drops one doctrine after another in a refined skepticism, when he declines to tie himself to a system, when he says that he has outgrown definitions,
when he says that he disbelieves in finality, when, in his own imagination, he sits as God, holding no form of creed but contemplating all, then he is
by that very process sinking slowly backwards into the vagueness of the vagrant animals and the unconsciousness of the grass. Trees have no dogmas. Turnips
are singularly broad-minded.

When I was flying over the North Slope of Alaska with a bush pilot nearly 20 years ago, the pilot told me how he once discovered a field of dead moose,
almost entirely intact, save for the fact that they had their bellies ripped open. He explained that a grizzly bear or bears had killed all the females
just to eat the unborn calves out of their bellies — because that was the tastiest part. Rather than eat just one whole moose, the bear was simply guided
by the turnip-like dogma of its instincts. The history of humanity is full of stories where people, likewise, lived with such undogmatic cruelty. Of course,
it’s unfair to describe the bears as cruel, because they have no concept of cruelty. They think it is good to eat your face, because that is their nature.
We do have a concept of cruelty, and we have dogma to thank for it.

So when I hear people say that they don’t like dogma, what I hear is that they don’t like the dogma of people who disagree with them.

The same goes for ideology.

In the last 48 hours, amidst the flop-sweat panic over Anthony Kennedy’s retirement, I’ve heard one abortion activist after another — including many who
play objective journalists on TV — insist that abortion opponents are crazed ideologues who want to impose their ideology on others. I have no doubt that
these talking points test very well in focus groups. I also have no doubt that these talking points are sincerely held.

Last night, I saw a tweet from the president of NARAL and responded to it:

Twitter Tweet frame

Jonah Goldberg (screen name: JonahNRO)
View on Twitter

All positions on abortion are ideological.

ilyse hogue Verified Account Verified Account @ilyseh
Replying to @ilyseh

Access to abortion is not an ideological litmus test but a human right for women who must be in charge of our own families in order to survive and thrive
economically and physically. The ideologues are those who think their beliefs are more important than our lives.

10:37 PM – Jun 28, 2018

Tweet actions 693

Tweet actions 199 people are talking about this

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Twitter Tweet frame end

The replies are instructive.

Ideology is the first draft of dogma. The good kind is merely a set of preferences, grounded in conviction, evidence, experience, or reason, that helps
guide us when we think through an idea or when we encounter new problems or facts. Progressives have an ideology. Conservatives have an ideology. Libertarians,
socialists, and, yes, pragmatists have ideologies, too.

Part of my ideology is the idea that we should err on the side of protecting individual liberty. I am not categorically opposed to restrictions on individual
liberty, however. I favor a military draft when it’s necessary (and I am ideologically opposed to one when it is unnecessary). I believe in putting rapists
in jail and executing the most heinous murderers. But part of my ideology holds that we should only do so after providing due process. My concern isn’t
that we might be unfair to a rapist or murderer, however. My concern is that without such systems in place, there’s too much potential to be unfair to
someone falsely accused of murder or rape. The mob hates due process.

The debate over abortion revolves around a question of fact — or interpretation of fact — that then determines the ideological course of action like the
first choice in a “choose your own adventure” book. If you conclude that the unborn, either at conception or at some later point of the pregnancy, acquires
moral status and rights, you go down one path of thought. If you believe,
like Barbara Boxer does,
that it’s not really a baby until you bring it home from the hospital, that sets you down another path.

Both sides in this dispute share some dogmatic and ideological convictions. They just apply them differently. The hardcore pro-abortion crowd uses the
language of individual liberty about the mother: How dare the state tell me what to do with my body!? In order to make this argument, however, they must
define away that other life as nothing more than uterine contents, a glob of cells, or some other euphemism. The hardcore anti-abortion crowd starts from
the premise that the fetus is an individual human being and as such deserves protection from harm. And it is the state’s first obligation to police or
regulate violence.

Both of these positions are ideological. One common response to this claim, peppering the replies to my tweet, is that abortion isn’t ideological for the
pregnant woman. There’s some truth to this, in the sense that we often shed our abstract commitments when pressed with real-life choices or difficult circumstances.
That’s why we have the saying, “There are no atheists in fox holes.”

The progressive who pounds the table in defense of public schools but sends his own kids to a private school is one example. The conservative CEO who talks
a great game about the free market and the evils of crony capitalism but barely hesitates to accept a subsidy is another. This hypocrisy is entirely human,
and our capacity to rationalize such things is often infinite.

And one of the most common ways we grease the skids for our retreat is by simply switching one ready-made ideology for another.

Bad ideology, like bad dogma, is a very real thing as well. Bad ideologies confuse is and ought. They hitch themselves to an unproven or unfalsifiable
conviction about the way things should be. The worst ideologies assume humans are clay, dispensable when insufficiently pliable. They heap scorn on the
hard-learned lessons of civilization in favor of glorious castles built in the air. Opposition to their agenda is seen as an evil desire to deprive people
of happiness not attainable in this life.

Other ideologies are just silly — not in the desirability of their aims necessarily, but in the belief that they would work. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez won
her congressional primary contest in New York this week by championing one such ideology. It basically boils down to what someone called “open-borders
socialism.” It is grounded in an ancient romantic notion that economics — the science of competing choices amidst finite resources — is a con. We can do
all the good things simultaneously. Everyone can become an American, and every American is entitled to free housing, free school, guaranteed work, and
every other good thing. It is the ideology of the child or the aristocrat — often the same thing — that holds we can of course have our cakes and eat them
too. And as with the more evil forms of ideology, its advocates assume that those opposed are motivated by a desire to deprive the deserving of something
they could easily give them.

In a world of infinite resources, it would indeed be a crime to deprive others of their fair share of the infinite. But we don’t live in that world. Part
of the job of parents is to explain to children that “We are not made of money” and even if we were, we could not or would not satisfy our children’s every
whim.

But we live in a time of epidemic childishness, working on the assumptions that we can borrow money forever and that the government is made of money. “Example
is the school of mankind, and he will learn at no other,” says Edmund Burke. What he meant by that is people must learn from actual events: They must be
shown, not told. This doesn’t mean that every generation must relearn first-hand the mistakes of the past. It means they must be taught about the mistakes
of the past. That’s what parents do with their kids. And it’s what grown-ups do in politics.

But there’s a marked shortage of grown-ups these days, which is a real calamity when childishness runs free.

That was Jonah Goldberg’s newsletter. Now, here is the very chilling article, published as news in the New York Times, on Saturday, June 30.

How Conservatives Weaponized the First Amendment

By
Adam Liptak

WASHINGTON — On the final day of the Supreme Court term last week, Justice Elena Kagan sounded an alarm.

The court’s five conservative members, citing the First Amendment, had just
dealt public unions a devastating blow.
The day before, the same majority had used the First Amendment to
reject a California law
requiring religiously oriented “crisis pregnancy centers” to provide women with information about abortion.

Conservatives, said Justice Kagan, who is part of the court’s four-member liberal wing, were “weaponizing the First Amendment.”

The two decisions were the latest in a stunning run of victories for a conservative agenda that has increasingly been built on the foundation of free speech.
Conservative groups, borrowing and building on arguments developed by liberals, have used the First Amendment to justify unlimited campaign spending, discrimination
against gay couples and attacks on the regulation of tobacco, pharmaceuticals and guns.

“The right, which had for years been hostile to and very nervous about a strong First Amendment, has rediscovered it,” said
Burt Neuborne,
a law professor at New York University.

The Citizens United campaign finance case, for instance, was decided on free-speech grounds, with the five-justice conservative majority ruling that the
First Amendment protects unlimited campaign spending by corporations. The government, the majority said, has no business regulating political speech.

The dissenters responded that the First Amendment did not require allowing corporate money to flood the political marketplace and corrupt democracy.

“The libertarian position has become dominant on the right on First Amendment issues,” said
Ilya Shapiro,
a lawyer with the Cato Institute. “It simply means that we should be skeptical of government attempts to regulate speech. That used to be an uncontroversial
and nonideological point. What’s now being called the libertarian position on speech was in the 1960s the liberal position on speech.”

And an increasingly conservative judiciary has been more than a little receptive to this argument.
A new analysis
prepared for The New York Times found that the Supreme Court under Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. has been far more likely to embrace free-speech arguments
concerning conservative speech than liberal speech. That is a sharp break from earlier eras.

As a result, liberals who once championed expansive First Amendment rights are now uneasy about them.

“The left was once not just on board but leading in supporting the broadest First Amendment protections,” said
Floyd Abrams,
a prominent First Amendment lawyer and a supporter of broad free-speech rights. “Now the progressive community is at least skeptical and sometimes distraught
at the level of First Amendment protection which is being afforded in cases brought by litigants on the right.”

Many on the left have traded an absolutist commitment to free speech for one sensitive to the harms it can inflict.

Take pornography and street protests. Liberals were once largely united in fighting to protect sexually explicit materials from government censorship.
Now many on the left see pornography as an assault on women’s rights.

In 1977, many liberals supported the right of the
American Nazi Party to march
among Holocaust survivors in Skokie, Ill. Far fewer supported the free-speech rights of the white nationalists who
marched last year in Charlottesville,
Va.

There was a certain naïveté in how liberals used to approach free speech, said
Frederick Schauer,
a law professor at the University of Virginia.

“Because so many free-speech claims of the 1950s and 1960s involved anti-obscenity claims, or civil rights and anti-Vietnam War protests, it was easy for
the left to sympathize with the speakers or believe that speech in general was harmless,” he said. “But the claim that speech was harmless or causally
inert was never true, even if it has taken recent events to convince the left of that. The question, then, is why the left ever believed otherwise.”

Some liberals now say that free speech disproportionately protects the powerful and the status quo.

“When I was younger, I had more of the standard liberal view of civil liberties,” said
Louis Michael Seidman,
a law professor at Georgetown. “And I’ve gradually changed my mind about it. What I have come to see is that it’s a mistake to think of free speech as
an effective means to accomplish a more just society.”

To the contrary, free speech reinforces and amplifies injustice,
Catharine A. MacKinnon,
a law professor at the University of Michigan, wrote in “The Free Speech Century,” a collection of essays to be published this year.

“Once a defense of the powerless, the First Amendment over the last hundred years has mainly become a weapon of the powerful,” she wrote. “Legally, what
was, toward the beginning of the 20th century, a shield for radicals, artists and activists, socialists and pacifists, the excluded and the dispossessed,
has become a sword for authoritarians, racists and misogynists, Nazis and Klansmen, pornographers and corporations buying elections.”

Changing Interpretations

In the great First Amendment cases in the middle of the 20th century, few conservatives spoke up for the protection of political dissenters, including
communists and civil rights leaders, comedians using vulgar language on the airwaves or artists exploring sexuality in novels and on film.

In 1971,
Robert H. Bork,
then a prominent conservative law professor and later a federal judge and Supreme Court nominee, wrote that the First Amendment should be interpreted narrowly
in
a law-review article
that remains
one of the most-cited
of all time.

“Constitutional protection should be accorded only to speech that is explicitly political,” he wrote. “There is no basis for judicial intervention to protect
any other form of expression, be it scientific, literary or that variety of expression we call obscene or pornographic.”

But a
transformative ruling
by the Supreme Court five years later began to change that thinking. The case, a challenge to a state law that banned advertising the prices of prescription
drugs, was filed by Public Citizen, a consumer rights group founded by Ralph Nader. The group argued that the law hurt consumers, and helped persuade the
court, in Virginia State Board of Pharmacy v. Virginia Citizens Consumer Council, to protect advertising and other commercial speech.

The only dissent in the decision came from Justice William H. Rehnquist, the court’s most conservative member.

Kathleen M. Sullivan,
a former dean of Stanford Law School, wrote that it did not take long for corporations to see the opportunities presented by the decision.

Conservatives in Charge, the Supreme Court Moved Right

Justice Anthony M. Kennedy’s last Supreme Court term contained hints of his retirement and foreshadowed a lasting rightward shift.

June 28, 2018

“While the case was litigated by consumer protection advocates,”
she wrote
in the Harvard Law Review, “corporate speakers soon became the principal beneficiaries of subsequent rulings that, for example, struck down restrictions
on including alcohol content on beer can labels, limitations on outdoor tobacco advertising near schools and rules governing how compounded drugs may be
advertised.”

That trend has continued, with businesses mounting First Amendment challenges to gun control laws, securities regulations, country-of-origin labels, graphic
cigarette warnings and limits on off-label drug marketing.

“I was a bit queasy about it because I had the sense that we were unleashing something, but nowhere near what happened,” Mr. Nader said. “It was one of
the biggest boomerangs in judicial cases ever.”

“I couldn’t be Merlin,” he added. “We never thought the judiciary would be as conservative or corporate. This was an expansion that was not preordained
by doctrine. It was preordained by the political philosophies of judges.”

Not all of the liberal scholars and lawyers who helped create modern First Amendment law are disappointed.
Martin Redish,
a law professor at Northwestern University, who wrote
a seminal 1971 article
proposing First Amendment protection for commercial speech, said he was pleased with the Roberts court’s decisions.

“Its most important contributions are in the commercial speech and corporate speech areas,” he said. “It’s a workmanlike, common sense approach.”

Liberals also played a key role in creating modern campaign finance law in
Buckley v. Valeo,
the 1976 decision that struck down limits on political spending by individuals and was the basis for
Citizens United,
the 2010 decision that did away with similar limits for corporations and unions.

One plaintiff was Senator Eugene J. McCarthy, Democrat of Minnesota, who had challenged President Lyndon B. Johnson in the 1968 presidential primaries
— from the left. Another was the American Civil Liberties Union’s New York affiliate.

Professor Neuborne, a former A.C.L.U. lawyer, said he now regrets the role he played in winning the case. “I signed the brief in Buckley,” he said. “I’m
going to spend long amounts of time in purgatory.”

To Professor Seidman, cases like these were part of what he describes as a right-wing takeover of the First Amendment since the liberal victories in the
years Chief Justice Earl Warren led the Supreme Court.

“With the receding of Warren court liberalism, free-speech law took a sharp right turn,” Professor Seidman wrote in
a new article
to be published in the Columbia Law Review. “Instead of providing a shield for the powerless, the First Amendment became a sword used by people at the
apex of the American hierarchy of power. Among its victims: proponents of campaign finance reform, opponents of cigarette addiction, the L.B.G.T.Q. community,
labor unions, animal rights advocates, environmentalists, targets of hate speech and abortion providers.”

The title of the article asked, “Can Free Speech Be Progressive?”

“The answer,” the article said, “is no.”

Shifting Right

The right turn has been even more pronounced under Chief Justice Roberts.

The Supreme Court has agreed to hear a larger share of First Amendment cases concerning conservative speech than earlier courts had, according to the study
prepared for The Times. And it has ruled in favor of conservative speech at a higher rate than liberal speech as compared to earlier courts.

The court’s docket reflects something new and distinctive about the Roberts court, according to the study, which was conducted by Lee Epstein, a law professor
and political scientist at Washington University in St. Louis; Andrew D. Martin, a political scientist at the University of Michigan and the dean of its
College of Literature, Science and the Arts; and Kevin Quinn, a political scientist at the University of Michigan.

“The Roberts court — more than any modern court — has trained its sights on speech promoting conservative values,” the study found. “Only the current court
has resolved a higher fraction of disputes challenging the suppression of conservative rather than liberal expression.”

The court led by Chief Justice Earl Warren from 1953 to 1969 was almost exclusively concerned with cases concerning liberal speech. Of its 60 free-expression
cases, only five, or about 8 percent, challenged the suppression of conservative speech.

The proportion of challenges to restrictions on conservative speech has steadily increased. It rose to 22 percent in the court led by Chief Justice Warren
E. Burger from 1969 to 1986; to 42 percent in the court led by Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist from 1986 to 2005; and to 65 percent in the Roberts court.

The Roberts court does more than hear a larger proportion of cases concerning conservative expression. It is also far more likely than earlier courts to
rule for conservative speech than for liberal speech. The result, the study found, has been “a fundamental transformation of the court’s free-expression
agenda.”

In past decades, broad coalitions of justices have often been receptive to First Amendment arguments. The court has protected
videos of animal cruelty,
hateful protests at military funerals,
violent video games
and
lies about military awards,
often by lopsided margins.

But last week’s two First Amendment blockbusters were decided by 5-to-4 votes, with the conservatives in the majority ruling in favor of conservative plaintiffs.

On Tuesday,
Justice Clarence Thomas wrote for the majority
that requiring health clinics opposed to abortion to tell women how to obtain the procedure violated the clinics’ free-speech rights. In dissent, Justice
Stephen G. Breyer said that was a misuse of First Amendment principles.

“Using the First Amendment to strike down economic and social laws that legislatures long would have thought themselves free to enact will, for the American
public, obscure, not clarify, the true value of protecting freedom of speech,” Justice Breyer wrote.

On Wednesday, in announcing the decision on public unions, Justice Samuel A. Alito Jr. said the court was applying settled and neutral First Amendment
principles to protect workers from being forced to say things at odds with their beliefs. He suggested that the decision on public unions should have been
unanimous.

“Compelling individuals to mouth support for views they find objectionable violates that cardinal constitutional command, and in most contexts, any such
effort would be universally condemned,” he wrote. “Suppose, for example, that the State of Illinois required all residents to sign a document expressing
support for a particular set of positions on controversial public issues — say, the platform of one of the major political parties. No one, we trust, would
seriously argue that the First Amendment permits this.”

In response, Justice Kagan said the court’s conservatives had found a dangerous tool, “turning the First Amendment into a sword.” The United States, she
said, should brace itself.

“Speech is everywhere — a part of every human activity (employment, health care, securities trading, you name it),” she wrote. “For that reason, almost
all economic and regulatory policy affects or touches speech. So the majority’s road runs long. And at every stop are black-robed rulers overriding citizens’
choices.”

Do Androids Dream of the Boys Locker Room?

I am not going to waste precious space in this blog writing about Solo: A Star Wars Story. The movie blew bigger chunks than you would find in an asteroid field. If I wouldn’t have been bored last Sunday, I would’ve saved my money.

However, there was one point I need to address. I am frankly sick of the idea propagated in science fiction that androids possess sentience.

In Solo, a young Lando Calrissian (Donald Glover) has an android co-pilot named L3-37 (Phoebe Waller-Bridge.) It doesn’t take five seconds after we meet L3-37 to learn that she is an android who is on a quest; the great and universal trek for equal rights. It is not atypical for modern Star Wars to insert concepts favorable to social justice in their scripts, but even by modern standards, the character is written in a very heavy-handed fashion. She is, in effect, the Dobby of the script without the charm.

Even though Lando seems to resist the idea that droids are worthy of equal rights, we discover that he implicitly validates the idea of her sentience when we see that he is (“gasp!”) attracted to her. The ironic parallel is obvious and ham-handed; the black character attracted to a machine he views as property, just as, a long time ahead in a galaxy far, far away, white slave owners were attracted to and bedded down people whom they did not, in fact, view as people at all.

How could any reasonable viewer of Solo come to any other conclusion but that droids are, of course, sentient and therefore, do deserve equal rights. L3-37’s cause is just, which makes her death all the more poignant when it inevitably comes.

The writers had fertile ground in which to plant this particular seed. After all, the viewers on whom they tried (and largely failed) to conduct financial extractions mostly haled from a generation that grew up with C-3PO and R2-D2, two humanistic droids who, more than once, saved the Star Wars universe. 3PO was a droid who never met a neurosis he didn’t like. R2-D2 didn’t communicate in spoken language, but his series of beeps and chirps and his diminutive cuteness, made him function more as a hyper intelligent animal, if not a human.

Then, 32 years later came R2-D2 2.0, aka BB-8, courtesy of The Force Awakens. One year after that, we met K-2SO in Rogue One. Now there was a droid who really brought the tude. He might have been the poster droid for the quest for equal rights if he were not already fighting in another rebellion with some actual teeth.

Of course, one might argue that the writers don’t actually think that droids are sentient, but rather, they are using L3-37 as a metaphor for real humans here on Earth. Duh! That trope has been played by sci-fi writers for generations. Nothing pioneering in that.

Ah, but if you want a franchise that takes the concept of android sentience more seriously, you need look no further than Star Trek: The Next Generation, embodied in the character of Lieutenant Commander Data.

Any fan of TNG should know where I’m headed before I get there. Season two, episode nine. Title, “The Measure of a Man.”

Picard and company are docked at an outlying starbase that houses a newly-installed JAG officer. About eight minutes into the episode, a guy named Bruce Maddox shows up and orders Data to report to Starfleet so that he can be taken apart and studied for further cybernetic research and experimentation. Data refuses. Maddox hands him transfer orders backing him up. Data resigns. Maddox says, “You can’t resign. You are a machine. Therefore, you are the property of Starfleet Command and thus, you have no rights.” Picard, of course, legally challenges Maddox, leading to a climactic courtroom battle that would make Perry Mason bow in awe.

But wait! There’s a twist! The JAG orders Number One to be the prosecutor, even though he is a close friend of Data’s and doesn’t believe that Data is not sentient. “Tough titty, said the android kitty,” says the judge, and we’re off to court.

Commander Riker presents his case first and calls only one witness, Data himself. He orders Data to take off his hand, which Data does. Then, Riker deactivates him by flipping his off switch.

At that moment, Riker has won the argument. The judge rules in Maddox’s favor, Data gets carted off to some dusty lab at Starfleet Command and Lore takes over as the second officer on the Enterprise. His first action… To disembowel Worf.

That was in the Kelvin timeline. In the prime timeline, Picard is unnerved by Riker’s compelling case. Then, Whoopi Goldberg shows up for her one token scene in the episode. They get to talking about how history is rife with cultures who have written off other cultures as less than human, thereby making them… Disposable people.

This, my friends, is the emotional money shot of the episode. Maddox is the villain, and he’s a villain because he wants to replicate Data, thereby creating an entire race of Datas who will serve man. But Data is sentient, so that would mean that Starfleet Command is creating slaves and, just like Lando Calrissian, they are sanctioning slavery.

Picard runs with it! Now, we’re back in court. Picard cross examines Data, and we are reminded that the android fulfilled a fantasy that many teenage boys could only dream about. He bagged Tasha Yar.

Then, Picard calls Maddox. He asks Maddox to define sentience. Maddox clumsily answers that sentience contains three components; intelligence, self-awareness and consciousness. Picard quickly dismantles the first argument, and no pimply-faced fan with his or her hand deep in the Cheeto bag would disagree. Data is way beyond intelligent.

Picard then turns to argument number two, asking Data to recite his current predicament in order to illustrate his self-awareness. Data complies. This is a little flimsy, but we’ll let it go.

And then… And then… Maddox starts to become unsure. Picard pounces. “Data meets two of your criteria. What if he meets the third? I don’t know what he is. Do you? Do you!?”

Silence.

Finally, the judge rules in Data’s favor, even though she admits that no one really proved their case. Her final verdict is, “I don’t know, but we’re going to defer in Data’s favor just in case he happens to be alive. Besides, we need to keep Brent Spiner around until he wins an Emmy.”

The story is over, except that Picard goes off to get nekkid with the judge, which is a task that usually falls to Riker, except that Picard has a bad history with this lady and the tension has been building all episode. Besides, Picard hasn’t been laid since… Never. And Riker is too busy hanging his head in shame even to take Deanna Troi for a loser’s lap. Data comes in and lets him off the emotional hook. “You were a splendid example of self-sacrifice, sir,” is basically what he says. Then he follows it up with, “I do not resent you, Commander. After all, resentment is a human feeling. As the audience no doubt knows, I cannot feel, because feeling connotes sentience, and I am not sentient.”

He doesn’t actually say that last part, but once these pimply-faced fans go wipe off the Twinkie crumbs and spend about 30 more years in the real world, they figure out that the writers deliberately stacked the deck against Riker. Yes, Riker won the legal battle, but in the 24th century, just as in the 21st, emotion trumps logic.

But who cares, right? Data, after all, is played by Brent Spiner, a very talented actor who is a human being, just as Anthony Daniels, Kenny Baker and Alan Tudyk are all human beings. Just as Disney likes to anthropomorphize animals in order that kids grow up to adopt an anti-hunting, pro-environmentalist sentiment by thinking of Bambi as a human being, sci-fi writers want a new legion of budding social justice warriors to think of the brave L3-37, or Data, every time a kid questions whether he is a boy or a girl, or a parent wants to take their son into the girl’s bathroom, or someone at work demands to be called Rachel instead of Tony.

Just as Picard stops short of pushing forward with his argument because he likely could not demonstrate that Data does not, in fact, possess consciousness, the new woke Star Wars crowd should not bother to ask certain critical questions. Your honor, isn’t it true that computers can only do what their programmers tell them? Your honor, if you flip off Data’s switch, couldn’t you flip it back on again in 20 years, just as Data did with his brother Lore? But why can’t you do that with Bernie Sanders? Your honor, if I see a penis on a boy, but he says he’s a girl, wouldn’t a little healthy skepticism be in order?

And the answer comes back like a hyper echo. “Fuck off, bigot!!!”

Ok, friends. I can’t resist. Real quick, here are five reasons why Solo blew big asteroid field chunks.

5. As previously stated, L3-37.

4. The movie should have been a buddy adventure featuring Han and Lando, rather than a romantic adventure featuring Han and Q’ira. Yeah… I know. Strong female movie characters, yada yada yada.

3. It was doomed from the start. No actor could possibly succeed Harrison Ford. That aside, Han was the ultimate alfa male. Alden Ehrenreich’s Han Solo seemed like a wiseass college kid who acts oppressed, but secretly gets a pedicure three times a week.

2. Darth Maul appears in the movie. Ok, think about that for a second, then think about the timeline of the prequels. Does Star Wars have a Kelvin timeline, too?

1. The writers eviscerated the spirit of the Han Solo character. Han’s backstory was boring. The Han Solo we met in the original Star Wars was a self-centered, greedy, cynical, cheeky anti-hero who was ultimately redeemed. This guy was a straight-up hero whom the writers contorted to fit a mold. In other words, modern Han would not have shot Greedo first… Unless Greedo was a Trump supporter, of course.

Now that I got all of that off my chest, I’m gonna go watch Star Trek TNG, Season three, episode 16, “The Offspring.” Damn! I still get a lump in my throat every time Data’s daughter dies.