And so, with Lisa Murkowski being granted a heaping helping of pork belly and Susan Collins issuing her usual statement of being gravely concerned (which never seems to change her vote), it looks like Trump’s Big Beautiful Bill will cross the finish line in the Senate. Thom Tillis, who took a somewhat principled stand against it, has had his political career served up on a silver platter next to John the Baptist’s head. The writing on the wall is clear. If you wish to maintain the perquisites that come with a little R after your name, you will toe the line or you will be excommunicated. It’s not surprising. What’s happening here is no different tan what happened in Rome under the later Caesars or Europe in the age of absolute monarchy. We used to think that we Americans were special and above the problems that graced so many other nation states. Turns out we’re perfectly ordinary. Any American Exceptionalism that used to exist was pretty much toast a decade or so before I was born. We just liked to pretend that it still existed and the result is a culture that’s pretty much a Potemkin village.
I did not listen to the 16 hour reading of the 900 page bill. Neither did the Senate. I don’t think a single senator stuck around for that particular piece of political theater. But then there’s a lot of not showing up happening. Such as not a single influential member of the Republican party on a national level showing up for Melissa and Mark Hortman’s funeral – gunned down by a sick individual influenced by the stochastic terrorism of MAGA rhetoric. And that’s not going to be the last political assassination. Details are murky but someone was taking potshots at the police and fire department in Kootenai County Idaho after deliberately setting a wildfire to draw them into an ambush. I can guess the political affiliations of the shooters. Being from Washington, I am quite familiar with that piece of Idaho and the white nationalist tribe that has been gathering there since the 1970s. (See Gary Yarborough and the Aryan Nations incident in Sandpoint – 1984).
There are still intelligent people on the right side of the aisle (at least I hope so) and they must know that much of what is in the bill is incredibly destructive in its attempts to continue the moving of capital upwards to the billionaire class. All I can think is that some sort of Apres moi, le deluge mania has taken over their brains. We’re rapidly creating a society in which the young cannot economically survive. Children become a financial risk and birth rates fall, not to mention the biologic issues of delayed child bearing. (There are some interesting studies that suggest that autism is most related to older age fathers). We’ve managed to escape most of the demographic disasters waiting for Western societies due to robust immigration. Well, that’s being thrown out the window along with dissident Russian oligarchs.
I think a bunch of this all comes back to the structure of the Baby Boom and their delusion that they remain the youth generation, despite the fact they are six months away from turning eighty. If they are young and immortal, no need to worry about or create a better world for the succeeding generations. They’re babies. Well, the Millennials and Generation Z are starting to wake up to the fact that they actually outnumber the surviving Boom and, as the Boom begins their major die off in the next five years or so, it’s the young who will decide elections, as long as they vote. It’s what propelled Mandami to victory, a huge turnout by NYC voters under 35. They know that they’ve been screwed as a generation by the boom and they’re pissed. The wealth transfer in some ways is the last gasp of the boom to scarper off with the treasure before the invading army captures the citadel.
The measures in the bill, particularly when taken together with the various imperial executive orders and the wrecking ball of DOGE, (I saw a quote from someone in DOGE somewhere saying that they really couldn’t find any waste, fraud or abuse but they were under huge pressure to do something and call it that), have either knocked out or will severely damage the pillars of American society. When the roof collapses on us all in the not to distant future, no one will be able to say they didn’t intend this result You remove enough supporting walls and the building will inevitably collapse. It’s called physics. It’s a science. It doesn’t care about your belief system.
I am, of course, most concerned about what other nightmares are coming for the healthcare system and senior care. I do have the bolt hole of early retirement if necessary but I am trying to hang on for another 22 months. The bill succeeds in killing Obamacare by removing the subsidies that make it affordable. Somewhere between 20 and 40 percent of smaller and rural hospitals will close due to cutbacks in Medicare and Medicaid. (And don’t believe the twaddle about there are no cuts. There are. Billions upon billions of dollars). One quarter of the nursing homes in the country will go out of business. If you have a relative in a skilled nursing facility, be prepared to take them home and care for them there. The closures combined with the needs of the rapidly aging Baby Boom will make beds nearly impossible to access. And, if your relative is lucky enough to actually have a bed and is in a state with a filial responsibility law (Alabama does not have one), the cash strapped state will begin garnishing your wages and taking your property as restitution for their care. It’s a mess, but eldercare in this country has always been a mess (it’s one of the things that attracted me to the field). I’ve fought the battles for thirty-five years. It is someone else’s turn.
Not a lot of personal news to report. I had a meeting this evening with the costume designer for Richard II. Rehearsals resume tomorrow. I’ve come to the conclusion it’s either going to end up as brilliant or an unmitigated disaster. I don’t know which yet but I’ll take full responsibility for it either way as the whole conceptual framework is out of my fever dreams of modern politics. Yesterday was my day of civic service for the month. I had a board retreat with the good folk of Central Alabama Theatre (a company that does mainly cabaret shows and small scale musicals) looking at how we position ourselves for the next few decades and then ran from that to my board responsibilities for Alabama Equality which was having a fundraiser entitiled ‘Love Wins’ celebrating enduring LGBTQIA relationships. I approached that one with mixed emotions as death cheated me out of many years of coupledom with both Steve and Tommy. Fortunately, I had taken a relatively simple task of limited scope. I was responsible for the raffle (excuse me – door prize drawing). A trip to Office Depot for tickets, and the creation of three gift baskets filled with World Market’s finest merchandise. Sixteen years with Tommy taught me a thing or two about the creation of gift baskets and I thought they came out rather well. Tickets were selling at a brisk pace when I left (I was dog tired so I didn’t stay for the whole thing) so I guess they were attractive enough to pique some interest.
I also managed to attend Tracy Letts’ new play The Minutes at Terrific New Theatre with a cast of some of Birmingham’s finest actors. I knew a bit about the play going in. (A small city’s city council meeting devolves). Without directly commenting on current politics, it brilliantly showcases many of the tensions we currently face. And the metaphorical ending, which could have easily fallen apart with a less committed cast, showed how difficult it is to escape group think. I went with my friends Patti and Ellise and Ellise drew parallels to MAGA, remarking that Trump is the fire around which they all dance. Birmingham theater has been showing up and showing out over this past season or two with productions that make you think. The Minutes, Assassins, The Crucible, for that is the job of theatrical artists. To hold up the mirror to society to help to teach it to be better. Now if I could only find some young uns to run with Politically Incorrect Cabaret.
Life, The Universe, and Everything 