It's No Game
28/03/07 10:35
Reading about Karl
Rove, James Carville and their political ilk, you
get the impression that politics is very much a
game for them. It's a challenge, a test of mental
acuity and personal prowess. It's solving Rubic's
Cube on a grand stage. It's world championship
poker, but with human lives instead of chips; and
because of these enormousely high stakes, it's the
grandest game of all.
In gamesmanship, elements of (largely male) comaraderie, shared love for the game, and the generally meager stakes (money and pride) keep opponents on the level of "rivals." They are not "enemies." After all, no one is trying to do anyone else personal harm. A loss does not mean that your child is more likely to wind up in prison, or that you are more likely to go bankrupt, or that your son, daughter or brother may not be able to pursue his/her chosen profession because he/she is gay. Loss does not mean that your salary will effectively decrease over the next few years, limiting the opportunities you can afford your children. It doesn't mean that you cannot afford health care for yourself or your family. Losing a typical game does not mean that your life or the lives of your loved ones may be forfeit on a battlefield despite the fact that no one has yet figured out why we're present on it.
I find it impossible to consider a process in which the stakes are so high to be a game. To me, the process concerns matters of life or death, and the quality of both. It is my life and the lives of loved ones. Nothing with so much at stake is a "game." It could only be a game to those with utter contempt for the lives most men lead.
I am a black, gay man. Politics has, in the past, declared my life forfeit to any white, straight man who chose to take it. Today, politics makes it more likely that urban blacks will wind up in prison should they succumb to drug addiction (look at the gulf between the sentencing guidelines for crack cocaine, with its black user base, and methamphetamine, with its white user base). Politics makes it more difficult, and in some cases impossible, for my partner and myself to fully provide for each other in case of illness or death. Politics can make it more likely that a police officer will shoot at me with greater impunity than he would dare to shoot at a similarly situated white man. Through failing to actively prosecute overt, illegal racism in the public sphere, politics can make such overt racism against me more acceptable and prevalent.
If, then, politics is life and death, what are political opponents? They are not mere rivals (as in a game) because, my friends, it's no game. I find it difficult to consider them anything other than enemies. They pursue and tolerate policies which have the potential to literally and needlessly put my life at risk--not for the sake of saving innumerable lives, bringing peace, freedom and democraacy to the planet or ushering in the Age of Aquarius--but for the mere reason of fulfilling an ideology. Ideology says that government should stay out of this or that. Thus, if a few more black people than white ones lose their jobs undeservedly or if a few children or parents die prematurely for lack of health care--that is the price the rest of us must pay for their ideology.
Yes. I must consider them not countrymen, but enemies. They are willing to forfeit lives for their ideology. They are willing to forfeit my life for that.
I am not an overly enlightened individual, and I strive not to be a liar. I admit to low emotions, regardless of how out-of-favor they may be. regardless of how politically incorrect it may be to admit to them: anger, jealousy, rage, hate... I am capable of each. How to respond when gentlemenly men in suits and ties smilingly, knowingly place your life and wellbeing on forfeit? Should we keep the emphasis on the style in which they attack, or the strip away the civilized facade and respond in kind to the substance of the act?
When we do strip away that facade, we're berated as "hateful." However, should their actions be seen as any less hateful? Who is more hateful, the one who calls names, or the one who costs lives? Have we sunk so low, become such a society of liars, that we pretend we don't see the difference?
When my enemies and those who support and propogate their policies fall, I am glad. That's one less person to do me harm. When they grow ill, the thought occurs that, should they die, I hope a particularly fetid corner of hell awaits them.
Oh, I hear the predictable tsk, tsking. "Such hatred. I am shocked." Am I proud of these thoughts? No. Do I acknowledge them? Yes. And to all the tsk tskers out there: The only difference between you and me is that I acknowledge them; I acknowledge their ugliness. I own both. You pretend to be incapable of either, and therefore allow yourself to guiltlessly indulge in both because you do it in a suit--with a smile.
In gamesmanship, elements of (largely male) comaraderie, shared love for the game, and the generally meager stakes (money and pride) keep opponents on the level of "rivals." They are not "enemies." After all, no one is trying to do anyone else personal harm. A loss does not mean that your child is more likely to wind up in prison, or that you are more likely to go bankrupt, or that your son, daughter or brother may not be able to pursue his/her chosen profession because he/she is gay. Loss does not mean that your salary will effectively decrease over the next few years, limiting the opportunities you can afford your children. It doesn't mean that you cannot afford health care for yourself or your family. Losing a typical game does not mean that your life or the lives of your loved ones may be forfeit on a battlefield despite the fact that no one has yet figured out why we're present on it.
I find it impossible to consider a process in which the stakes are so high to be a game. To me, the process concerns matters of life or death, and the quality of both. It is my life and the lives of loved ones. Nothing with so much at stake is a "game." It could only be a game to those with utter contempt for the lives most men lead.
I am a black, gay man. Politics has, in the past, declared my life forfeit to any white, straight man who chose to take it. Today, politics makes it more likely that urban blacks will wind up in prison should they succumb to drug addiction (look at the gulf between the sentencing guidelines for crack cocaine, with its black user base, and methamphetamine, with its white user base). Politics makes it more difficult, and in some cases impossible, for my partner and myself to fully provide for each other in case of illness or death. Politics can make it more likely that a police officer will shoot at me with greater impunity than he would dare to shoot at a similarly situated white man. Through failing to actively prosecute overt, illegal racism in the public sphere, politics can make such overt racism against me more acceptable and prevalent.
If, then, politics is life and death, what are political opponents? They are not mere rivals (as in a game) because, my friends, it's no game. I find it difficult to consider them anything other than enemies. They pursue and tolerate policies which have the potential to literally and needlessly put my life at risk--not for the sake of saving innumerable lives, bringing peace, freedom and democraacy to the planet or ushering in the Age of Aquarius--but for the mere reason of fulfilling an ideology. Ideology says that government should stay out of this or that. Thus, if a few more black people than white ones lose their jobs undeservedly or if a few children or parents die prematurely for lack of health care--that is the price the rest of us must pay for their ideology.
Yes. I must consider them not countrymen, but enemies. They are willing to forfeit lives for their ideology. They are willing to forfeit my life for that.
I am not an overly enlightened individual, and I strive not to be a liar. I admit to low emotions, regardless of how out-of-favor they may be. regardless of how politically incorrect it may be to admit to them: anger, jealousy, rage, hate... I am capable of each. How to respond when gentlemenly men in suits and ties smilingly, knowingly place your life and wellbeing on forfeit? Should we keep the emphasis on the style in which they attack, or the strip away the civilized facade and respond in kind to the substance of the act?
When we do strip away that facade, we're berated as "hateful." However, should their actions be seen as any less hateful? Who is more hateful, the one who calls names, or the one who costs lives? Have we sunk so low, become such a society of liars, that we pretend we don't see the difference?
When my enemies and those who support and propogate their policies fall, I am glad. That's one less person to do me harm. When they grow ill, the thought occurs that, should they die, I hope a particularly fetid corner of hell awaits them.
Oh, I hear the predictable tsk, tsking. "Such hatred. I am shocked." Am I proud of these thoughts? No. Do I acknowledge them? Yes. And to all the tsk tskers out there: The only difference between you and me is that I acknowledge them; I acknowledge their ugliness. I own both. You pretend to be incapable of either, and therefore allow yourself to guiltlessly indulge in both because you do it in a suit--with a smile.