Ronald Reagan

Save America – Adopt a Republican

~ Randy Blazak ~ Leave a comment

April 18, 2025

This national divide we’re in feels like a ramp up to civil war, brother vs. brother. But instead of the “We Want to Keep Slaves” Confederacy versus the “Let’s Just Brutalize Indians” Union, it’s MAGAts versus Libtards. Have we ever been so divided?

I’ve been writing about the Great Schism in this blog since 2015, when Donald Trump came down from Billionaire Heaven on his golden escalator to blather about Mexicans being “murderers and rapists.” But since my work on a federally funded de-escalation project, I’ve been pushing a controversial approach to the conflict, talk to the other side instead of yelling at them.

Trump and DOGE ended the funding for our 3-year project to reduce political violence, but I have a new audience; Instagram. For whatever reason, my Instagram account (@blazakr) has exploded, from 2000 followers last week to over 43,000 (including some favorite celebs). The algorithm gods have said, “You must take this message to the people.”

Here’s the simple truth. The 2024 election gave Trump the White House and both chambers of Congress. Trump and his MAGA acolytes believe America handed them a mandate, even though Trump got less than 50% of the votes. (77.3 million Americans voted for the Orange Don, but 108.5 registered voters didn’t even vote.) Since January 20th, Trump and his D.C. droogs have gone buck wild, shredding the very fabric of our democracy. DOGE has thrown over 65,000 Americans out work (and countless jobs that relied on federal funding, like mine). People have watched their 401Ks tank as Trump cosplays tough guy with tariffs. And between the ejection of due process protections and official buffoons chatting war plans on leaky apps, in 89 days the world has watched America collapse into a shithole nation.

Can America be saved?

Trump and his elite democracy death squads are hard at work dismantling the guardrails of our sacred system of checks and balances. His complete disregard with the Supreme Court’s unanimous order to facilitate the return of Kilmar Abrego Garcia from El Salvador is just one example of the collapse of the rule of law. Tik tok time is running out for the USA.

But there are still options on the table. The millions of Americans taking to the streets is a central strategy. The 2020s could make the 1960s look like the 1950s in terms of protest actions. But I’d like to offer an additional strategy to rescue this 249 year old citizen ship.

Talk to Republicans.

We have to build a majority and there are some important populations to bring on board our pro-democracy movement. The first are Trump voters. That includes the thousands of Trump voters who voted for Biden in 2020. Many of these people are not happy with what Trump, and his boss, Elon Musk, have done to their country. They are farmers and (former) federal workers, parents of kids with disabilities, and old white people who were about to retire.

I tend to lump Trump voters into three categories. There are the MAGA cult members who think Trump is Jesus. They refuse to believe he has ever lied or committed a crime. The 2020 election was stolen because he told them it was. The only way to reach them is with a serious deprogramming regiment. Then there are the fascists. They loved the cruelty of Trump 1.0 and they want Trump 2.0 to bury our multicultural democracy once and for all. They are accelerationists who fuel the chaos and dream to create a white ethno-state from the ashes.

But the third group are perhaps the biggest. They are the casual Trump voters. They voted for Trump because he told them he would drop the price of groceries and adult diapers on Day 1. They thought a businessman would make a better president than a Democrat big government liberal. Many believed the complete crap that came out of Trump’s mouth about “illegal aliens” and “transgender athletes,” and the complete crap that came out of the right wing noise machine about Kamala Harris. Many supported Nikki Haley and held their noses to vote for Trump.

These people can be reached. Many of them are already protesting in front of Tesla dealerships and raising hell at Republican town halls. They are ripe for the picking. But they won’t be won over by being told how stupid they were for voting for Trump. They share many common values with us, including caring about our democracy and the future our children face. And many care about the immigrants in their churches and communities. This is the time to unclench the fist and open the hand.

This same appeal to decency and democracy instead of cruelty and barbarity can be made to the millions of Americans who didn’t vote. We need them, too. The very existence of this nation is on the line. We might not all be perfectly in sync on Gaza or GMOs (but at least we are on the same page about Greenland), and that’s OK. We need to drop the dogma and show up for the promise of America.

The other population to reach out to are elected Republicans. Many have sold their souls to Trump and live in fear of his wrath if they waver in their loyalty. They kiss his ass profusely out of terror of being accused of a thoughtcrime, being a RINO. But there are others who see the cracks in MAGA and are facing re-election in 2026. They know Trump’s War on Woke won’t win over the electorate when eggs are $16 a dozen and retirement accounts have been zeroed out. They include the Reagan Republicans who can still hear the ghosts of John McCain and Mitt Romney. (I know Mitt is still alive, but you know what I mean.) The constituents of these R’s should flood their offices and town halls with demands that they stand up to the Trump-Musk assault on America.

I can’t believe that I’m going to say this, but we need Republicans right now. Yeah, I’m pissed that that Kamala Harris is MIA in this fight, but you know who could really taken Donald down a few pegs? George W. Bush. Yeah, I know, war criminal. But good God, if anybody could peel away some good ol’ boys from the Trump train, it’s W. and his folksy charm. There are Republicans who know that Putin is the bad guy and that undocumented immigrants deserve kindness not cruelty. They need a permission structure to abandon MAGA.

Look, I’m as radical as the next sociology professor. I think capitalism is a death trap for the masses. But I’m willing to put my righteousness to the side while we save this democratic experiment that is America. That’s why I’m urging every liberal, progressive, radical, libertarian, and vegan pagan priestess to adopt a Republican. Reach out to one Trumpie, whether it’s a co-worker, family member or U.S. Senator. Make them your pet project.

Instead of screaming at them (the temptation is real), ask them how they’re doing. Be curious about their lives and then steer the conversation to our common values and how we’re not red and blue Americans, but just Americans. Stay calm and kind. Discuss the harm done to people you know. Don’t get distracted by silly tirades about “men in girls’ sports.” Stay focused on preserving the fabric of America’s Constitutional democracy. Fighting on social media is fun but where has that gotten us? Let’s try something different. It’s just us. No them. And many of these attempts will be complete failures, but some folks will flip and that might just enough to save us. Kill MAGA with kindness. They won’t know what hit them.

The James Bond Project #17: The Living Daylights (1987)

~ Randy Blazak ~ 11 Comments

April 6, 2025

This series is intended to evaluate each product of the James Bond film franchise through a feminist lens, and the relevance of the Bond archetype to shifting ideas of masculinity in the 2020s.

The Living Daylights (1987, directed by John Glen)

This new James Bond is quite new and old at the same time. Eon producer Cubby Broccoli had been after Timothy Dalton to play Bond since On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. In 1967, Dalton felt he was too young for the role. Now, at 41, he was the right age. With Roger Moore retired, there were several considerations for the new Bond, including Superman (and American) Christoper Reeve, Sam Neil, and Mel Gibson. Irishman Pierce Brosnan was offered the job but was under contract to the TV show Remington Steele. Broccoli’s wife, Dana, pushed to bring back Dalton to the role and she got her wish.

Besides being a “Bond-in-waiting” for 20 years, Dalton went back to the source material, Fleming’s 007 novels, to rediscover a less campy Bond, constantly living on the edge of death. His performance in The Living Daylights feels drastically different than Moore’s, less cartoonish. There are some over-the-top action scenes, like escaping Russians by sledding down a mountain, with his female accomplice, in a cello case, but the horniness and quips are dialed way back. (Although, the “He got the boot” line was classic Bond.)

The movie was the last Bond film to be scored by John Barry, with a Duran Duran-inspired theme song by A-Ha and, for the first time, a closing song by The Pretenders. TLD’s Bond “girl” was British actress Maryam d’Abo, cousin of Olivia d’Abo, from The Wonder Years. The film also introduced a new Moneypenny, played by Caroline Bliss. Desmond Llewelyn is still there as Q and, boy, does he have the gadgets in this installment.

Despite Dalton’s more toned down Bond, there are still plenty of franchise tropes, including the obligatory bikini-clad women by the pool scene, Russian assassins on skis chasing James down a mountain, Bond in his tux, and more rounds of ammunition fired at Bond than anyone could count. We have multiple locations in the eastern hemisphere, including Afghanistan after the 1979 Russian invasion. In 1987, the Mujahideen were still considered the good guys, before they birthed the Taliban and Osama bin Laden.

The Living Daylights, in many ways, feels very different. Let’s put it into our review machine.

Driver of Action – It makes sense that when introducing a new Bond, you’d spend your screen time on the star. Some old friends show up, like M and CIA agent Felix Leiter, but they just pop in to move the story along. There is a fun subplot with renegade Russian General Georgi Koskov (played by Dutch actor Jeroen Krabbé, who was so good in The Prince of Tides) that feels like it could have been a great film on its own. But here we are getting to know this James, and he’s not the previous James.

Role of Violence – Dalton’s Bond is more serious than previous incarnations and so is his use of violence. He kills about 10 bad guys in the film, most notably Koskov’s henchman, Nekros, who he drops from a plane over Afghanistan by cutting his bootstraps. There’s a lot of gunfire and, while James never gets a nick, he blows away plenty (mostly Russian) dudes.

There is a scene where Bond rips a nightgown off a woman to distract a KGB agent. Seems like a gratuitous excuse to give the audience a brief boob shot.

Vulnerability – Is our James in love? His relationship with Kara (Maryam d’Abo) seems genuine. It begins when doesn’t kill her as she appears to attempt an assassination of a KGB asset and he get’s shit from another 00 agent. He also seems somewhat traumatized when that other 00 agent gets murdered with a sliding glass door.

Sexual Potency – This isn’t your father’s James Bond. It’s very possible that James doesn’t have sex with anybody in TLD. First of all, his banter with Moneypenny is chilled out. When she suggests he come over to listen to her “Manilow collection,” he looks at her like he wants to barf. 

The film centers around his partnership with Kara. He pretends to be a friend of Koskov, who is her boyfriend. When they check into a hotel in Vienna, the concierge, with a wink, says, “Your usual suite, Mr. Bond?” Instead, he asks for a suite with separate bedrooms. They end up kissing on a giant ferris wheel. (I rode that ride in Vienna in 1991!) She resists, and creepy Bond says, “Don’t think, just let it happen.” It might be implied that they hook up after that, but we never see it. Same thing when they are in Afghanistan. He tells her she is beautiful and they kiss. No morning after scenes, as we’ve come to expect.

Connection – There is some banter with Saunders, the 00 agent who gets killed helping him track Koskov. He’s detached from his other MI-6 colleagues, including the aging Q. But his affection for Kara seems genuine. “To us,” he toasts, after she makes him a martini (shaken, not stirred, and poisoned). The film doesn’t end with them having sex in a boat, but James surprising her backstage after her symphony performance, with a kiss. Will Kara Milovy return in the next film?

Toxic Masculinity Scale: 2

Summary

There are nods to Bond of old. In the opening action sequence, James after an epic battle on the Rock of Gibraltar, is parachuting over the Mediterranean. A bikini-clad woman on a yacht is on the phone complaining to a friend, “It’s all so boring here, Margo – there’s nothing but playboys and tennis pros. If only I could find a real man.” Then 007 crashes through the yacht canopy, right on cue. It’s implied that she’s found her man for a few hours. But after that, it’s all Bond, more grounded in his work than we’ve seen.

007 fans might have been disappointed by the absence of Lothario Bond (by 1987, AIDS was a full blown crisis), but they got more than they bargained for in gadgets (a ghetto “blaster”!), especially with the return of the Aston Martin. Q has loaded this car with more gadgets than Speed Racer’s Mach 5, including a jet engine. Q urges caution, “It’s just had a new coat of paint!” But we know James. The locations are also a real treat, including Czechoslovakia, Tangiers and Afghanistan (filmed in Morocco). There’s a scene of James riding across the desert on horseback with the Mujahideen that looks like a scene from Lawrence of Arabia. Glorious.

Dalton’s playing of Bond with more of an edge was well received. Maybe, by the late 80s it was time to tweak the formula. The Living Daylights premiered in London on June 29, 1987, two weeks after Ronald Reagan, standing in Berlin, said, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall.” The growing detente between the U.S. and U.S.S.R. is referenced the film as a motive for the renegade KGB agents. There’s also a goofy villain arms dealer in the movie, played by Joe Don Baker, that seems very Reagan-era. While retaining some James of old (“Forget the ladies for once, Bond,” Saunders tells him as he spots Kara through his opera glasses), we get a more serious, less flamboyant 007 in this film. Will this be the new Bond?


Next: License to Kill (1989)

The James Bond Project #16: A View to a Kill (1985)

The James Bond Project #15: Never Say Never Again (1983)

The James Bond Project #14: Octopussy (1983)

The James Bond Project #13: For Your Eyes Only (1981)

The James Bond Project #12: Moonraker (1979)

The James Bond Project #11: The Spy Who Loved Me (1977)

The James Bond Project #10: The Man with the Golden Gun (1974)

The James Bond Project #9: Live and Let Die (1973)

The James Bond Project #8: Diamonds are Forever (1971)

The James Bond Project #7: On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969)

The James Bond Project #6: You Only Live Twice (1967)

The James Bond Project #5: Casino Royale (1967)

The James Bond Project #4: Thunderball (1965)

The James Bond Project #3: Goldfinger (1964)

The James Bond Project #2: From Russia With Love (1963)

The James Bond Project: #1: Dr. No (1962)

Watching the Death of Nation in Real Time

~ Randy Blazak ~ 4 Comments

April 1, 2025

A hundred bucks says Donald Trump has never read the U.S. Constitution. Or The Bible. Or a book. His latest blather about running for a third term is either an overt telegraphing that he’s going to pull a Putin and declare himself “President for Life” or it’s another distraction from that fact that he and Musk are crashing the system so they can scoop up the pieces.

Either way, America is screwed.

I’ve written ad nauseam about the elements of the Trump movement that map directly on to the rise of fascism, starting back in 2015. The parallels this time around are even more stark, including hollowing out America’s system of checks and balances (starting with firing inspector generals), alienating our long term allies (Blame Canada?), flaunting the rule of law, especially due process, and the vision of expanding empire. Leave Greenland alone.

In 70 insane days, Trump has transformed the United States from a democracy to an anocracy. Anocracies are hybrids of democracy and authoritarianism. Russia has elections, but they are Putin-controlled cosplay. Trump is playing by Putin’s playbook, step by step, where a democracy is transformed into a dictatorship, with the support of the loyal oligarchs. And when your favorite oligarch is the richest man on the planet it’s that much easier.

The damage Elon Musk is doing to America may be irreparable. The 2400 Americans that Musk fired from the CDC today will have ripple effects across the world, but especially in communities that voted for Trump who require federal support in disease prevention. But, hey, MAGA got to own those liberal scientists! America is unravelling. Our safety net is being shredded. Social security is next. Our national security is already splayed open on the Signal app. The nation collapsing. And it’s not in slow motion.

Trump, his drunk frat boy sycophants, and the crafty billionaires that cleverly steer the President of the United States have a plan, to remake America into Russia, a feudal state where the landed gentry collect the wealth and the rest of us pay the interest on our debt to them. Trump going after DEI, civil rights protections, and vote by mail is all part of the race to autocracy. All that was great about 20th Century America is being erased before our eyes.

But in a moment straight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, we’re not dead yet. We still have time to jump off the corpse wagon.

The natives are restless. Protests are growing all over the country, including in red states. Americans are waking up to the threat. Sociologist C. Wright Mills called it the sociological imagination. When you are aware of your values and those values are under threat, the crisis moves you to develop a wider analysis. If you value American democracy, this is a fucking crisis. And the irony is that it will be disaffected Republicans who tip this thing into a national surge against Trumpism. Yeah, Idiocracy requires idiots and there will always be MAGA cultists who will follow their orange god off a cliff, but we can do this without them. We need Reagan Republicans and the ghost of John McCain. (Eighties Me can’t believed I just typed that, but this is an emergency!)

This is go time, America. It’s time for old baby boomers and young Gen Alphas to make noise, monkey wrench, flood the courts, take to the streets, sit in, stand up, and stop this madness. Or there will be a point when we can no longer claim to be free.

The Chickens Have Come to Roost: The Assassination of Donald Trump

~ Randy Blazak ~ 1 Comment

July 16, 2024

I remember my first presidential candidate assassination attempt. I was a second grader in Boca Raton, Florida in May 1972,  when we heard that Alabama governor George Wallace, a Democratic candidate for president, had been shot by a 21-year-old man dressed in red, white, and blue. I remember that Wallace was known to be a white supremacist. At 8, based on my Sesame Street education, and love of the Mod Squad, I knew that was a bad thing. Wallace, survived, although paralyzed, and George McGovern went on the be the Democratic nominee, only to lose to Tricky Dick Nixon.

The Wallace shooting has been on my mind as I watch the coverage of Saturday’s attempt on Donald Trump’s life with my 9-year-old daughter. “This is your first political assassination attempt, Cozy,” I told her. “I’m sure it won’t be my last,” she replied. She already knows how America works.

I remember where I was when I first heard that John Hinckley had shot Ronald Reagan in 1981 (in my Gran Torino in the parking lot of Redan High School) and when I heard that Charles Manson acolyte Squeaky Fromm (and another woman 17 days later) tried to shoot Gerald Ford in 1975 (in my rec room in Stone Mountain, Georgia). I was only 4 when Sirhan Sirhan shot Democratic candidate Robert Kennedy in 1968 and in utero when his brother, President John Kennedy, was assassinated in Dallas in 1963. The shooting of American politicians will mark my life, from womb to tomb.

When JFK was killed in 1963 by a gunman from an elevated position 266 feet away, it shocked a nation that thought it was beyond political violence, even though three previous presidents had been assassinated (Lincoln, 1865, Garfield, 1881, and McKinley, 1901). Black nationalist civil rights icon Malcolm X created a firestorm when asked to comment on the murder of Kennedy. “Being an old farm boy myself, chickens coming home to roost never did make me sad; they’ve always made me glad.” The response was fierce and the Nation of Islam, the group X spoke for, sanctioned him for speaking ill of the president loved by so many black Americans.

But Malcom X’s sentiment is worth considering. In The Autobiography of Malcolm X, Minister X explained his comment as a form of social karma. That an administration, and a society, that had foist so much violence on its citizens, especially on black people, should not be shocked when that violence bounces back on them. You reap what you sow. And America has a long history of launching violence into the world, and defending the violent. Live by the gun, die by the gun.

So when Trump was shot by a white kid, a registered Republican, and a gun club member, with his dad’s AR-15, I heard those words. The chickens have come home to roost.

America loves violence and nobody loves the language of violence more than Donald J. Trump. We don’t have to go down the sizable list of offenses (but him asking if the BLM protesters could be shot in the legs in 2020 is a favorite). Trump Saturday, with a barely winged ear, chanting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” with clenched fist, was part of his faux macho man performance. Ever the showman, under the dog pile of Secret Service agents, he was probably thinking, “I need a fundraising meme!” Fifteen minutes later, the image was everywhere. Trump looking like 50 Cent. “My body eats bullets.”

The shooting of Trump is a horrible event for so many reasons. While this nation was founded in bloody revolution, we solve our disputes with ballots not bullets. The worst liberals (including some friends) publicly wished the kid was a better shot. The worst conservatives saw the hand of nutzo conspiracies that blamed Biden, antifa, the “deep state,” and (surprise) the Jews. The shooting was seen as “evidence” of whatever your binary us vs. them political position. Many, on both the left and the right, we were convinced that attempt, that killed a father in the crowd, would guarantee a Trump victory and whatever glory/hell that creates. “America is saved/doomed!”

The violent rhetoric of Trump (much of which I’ve written about here) is not exactly balanced out by peace and love vibes from Democrats. On Monday, when NBC’s Lester Holt interviewed President Biden, Holt asked the President about his rhetoric toward Trump. ““It’s time to put Trump in the bull’s-eye.” Biden, instead of apologizing or engaging in a heartfelt conversation about the overly violent nature of political speech, played a moronic game of what-about-ism. “Look, I’m not the guy that said I want to be a dictator on day one.” You’re not helping, Joe. Take a nap.

After the Trump shooting, “Civil War” was trending on X (Twitter) and the dark web I monitored over the weekend was full of “keep your powder dry” posts. But the ray of hope may come from Trump himself. After his brush with death (and we were millimeters from his head exploding in that Pennsylvania field), the former president allegedly tore up his original fiery speech for his crowning Thursday at the Republican National Convention in Milwaukee. He could return to his “Crooked Joe and Them Evil Democrats” stump speech template, full of rambling stories about sharks and Hannibal Lector. But maybe, just maybe, Donald has had a come to Jesus moment (the real Jesus, not White Republican Jesus). Perhaps this Thursday’s speech will be his version of Obama’s brilliant 2004 Democratic Convention oratory, when Obama said, “There’s not a liberal America and a conservative America — there’s the United States of America.” After naming misogynist MAGA sycophant J.D. Vance as his running mate, I don’t hold out much hope, but you never know. A new Trump could urge calm amid Terrordome-like political chaos.

We desperately need leadership that says, we are not red or blue, just beautiful and varying shades of purple. We need a chorus of voices that says all this political violence is endlessly counter productive. We need credible messengers to tell us there is a better way and show us how to do it. If not, we’re done.

Make America Classic Rock Again? The Political Danger of Nostalgia

~ Randy Blazak ~ 1 Comment

March 5, 2024

I had a dream I turned on the classic rock radio station and heard a song I never heard before. I woke up thinking how boring nostalgia was. As much as I love a good Steve Miller Band single from 50 years ago, there has to be something more to life. Thanks to my 9-year old Swiftie daughter, the car radio is now locked into the Top 40 station. Z100! I know Steve Miller and his Jet Airliner are still there, but we’re in a droptop ride with SZA today.

I’ve now entered the age where I’m surrounded by peers, Baby Boomers and increasingly crotchety Gen Xers, complaining about “kids today” and how much better things were back in the day, music and values and the price of gas. It’s endlessly annoying. Just because Van Halen made “totally awesome” music in 1980, doesn’t mean there aren’t a ton of bands making great music now. (I’m writing this as I’m playing the new Bleachers record.) But I’m regularly being beaten over the head by Grumpy Old Men who don’t think any music released this century is worth a damn. They desperately want the world be like it was when they were young and you could ride in the back of a pick-up truck to the drive-in.

Let’s first deal with three important facts.

FACT 1: I love when I read old timers complain that youth today have no morals or respect or blah, blah, blah. They forget that their parents’ generation said the same thing about them. Kids have never had any goddamn respect. Socrates, over 2400 years ago said much the same thing. “The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers.” They might be assholes half the time, but the kids are alright. 

FACT 2: Rock and roll was created in the 1950s for one specific reason, to annoy your parents. The noise of youth creates space for young people separate themselves from adult society. Adults thought Elvis was noise in the 1950s, with his gyrating hips and “negro intonations.” Every year kids have had something to push their parents back, including Hendrix (1960s), Kiss (1970s), Run DMC (1980s), Nirvana (1990s), Eminem (2000s), Beyoncé (2010s), and Doja Cat (now). I remember my father endlessly perplexed at why I preferred Led Zeppelin to Ricky Nelson. “That’s not music,” was the constant refrain. “I hope I die before I get old,” I’d reply. I remember elders thinking Van Halen was absolute garbage when they came out. (I saw them get booed when they opened for Black Sabbath in 1978.) Now grandma and grandpa are in a heated Sammy Hagar versus David Lee Roth debate.

FACT 3: The past always looks great through the rear view mirror, but the past was always a mixed bag. Yeah, it was fun to ride around in the back of a pick-up truck, but a bunch of kids fell out and died. Yeah, there were some great songs back then but there were some super shitty ones, too. Does anyone really miss “Disco Duck”? Yeah, it was fun to play in the streets with your pals, but often you were playing “Smear the Queer.” Whenever someone waxes on and on about the dreamlike good old days, I flash to me holding the TV antenna in just the right position so I could watch the Watergate hearings on one of the three channels we got, while also trying to manage the horizontal hold. I’ll take my Roku, thank you.

Nostalgia was originally defined as a sickness in the 1680s to describe Swiss mercenaries who couldn’t fight because the longed for home. During the American Civil War, nostalgia was seen as a problematic form a depression, melancholia to be cured so the soldiers could wage war. It’s root as a mental disability is not lost on the lives of those suffering from Alzheimer’s disease, endlessly caught in loops of their past, unable to engage in the present world in a meaningful way. “If I could just go back to when I was happy.” Odds are you weren’t as happy as you imagine.

There’s a dangerous political aspect to all this hyper-nostalgia, this over romanticizing of the past. It’s the impetus behind all forms of fascism, from Hitler’s mythologizing of Germany’s past or Trump’s Make America Great Again movement. For Trump’s crowd it’s the belief that America was great BEFORE all the various civil rights movements upset the “natural” authority of straight white cis-gender men. The America before pronouns, diversity trainings, and black lives mattering. Make America Jim Crow Again. It’s not surprising that Trump has leaned heavily on 20th century music artists to take his MAGA crowd back to the GOD (Good Old Days). It’s encouraging that dozens of these artists (or their estates) have petitioned Trump to stop using their music, including Aerosmith, The Beatles, Bruce Springsteen, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Eddy Grant, Elton John, the Village People (!), Everlast, Guns N Roses, Isaac Hayes, The Smiths, Leonard Cohen, Linkin Park, Neil Young, Ozzy Osbourne, Phil Collins, Prince, Queen, R.E.M., The Rolling Stones, Tom Petty, and even Nickelback. Just this week, the estate of Sinead O’Connor asked Trump to stop using her version of “Nothing Compares to You.” Fascism requires nostalgia but they are not doing it with Nickelback!

Two Important Points

Number 1: I get nostalgia. When we are young, and the world is in front us, every new experience is massively vibrant, the first kiss, the first time listening to Dark Side of the Moon. Those experiences and their soundtrack are woven into our very construction, like the iron beams that hold up the Empire State Building. Sitting in a smoke field movie theater watching The Empire Strike Back or falling to sleep to Steely Dan on the FM headphones has been fused into our DNA. As we age, and more of our life is behind us instead of in front of us, we start to lean on those iron beams. The Empire State Building, built 93 years ago, might not be here 93 years from now (2117), but it will always remind us of a specific moment in history that was both “great” and horrible.

I can get caught up in nostalgia, just like everyone else. I currently have 955 public playlists on Spotify, most mining the music of my youth. (Playlist #956 is going to be songs from albums released in March 1974, starting with Grand Funk’s “Locomotion.”) If I have any actual hobbies, it’s collecting vinyl LPs and anything related to the Beatles. And I would trade my eye teeth to get behind the wheel of my first car, a ’73 Gran Torino, again. But that brings me to Point #2.

Number 2: Nostalgia can block out our ability to be present in the present. We’re so focused on the past and making America “that” again, we miss out on the wonderful stuff right in front of us. I will never stop listening to Top 40 radio and looking for new bands to obsess over. (Currently, it’s Blood Command.) I love sharing my daughter’s love of all things Taylor Swift and discovering this music with her (Lover is our current favorite album, although I’m starting to get into folklore.) Listening to contemporary music connects me to the present moment, not when America Was Ricky Nelson. Even if for a moment, it liberates me from the endless nostalgia loop. And it’s inevitable that Taylor Swift will be on “oldies” rotation in 30 years and my kid will say, “When I was a kid, we had REAL music, like Dua Lipa. These kids today…” And so it goes.

So enjoy the past. There’s great wisdom in a Crosby, Stills, and Nash lyric and a Jimmy Carter foreign policy. Huey Lewis and Ronald Reagan don’t seem as horrid as they did 40 years ago. And some of our fond memories are shockingly marginalizing now. (If you can’t remember how racist, sexist, and homophobic we were, just watch any 80’s comedy film. Weird Science has not aged well.) But also plug into the present reality. The kids today have both the exact same issues we contended with and so much more. And their world is reflected in their culture, which should not be dismissed as our parents dismissed ours. Their soundtrack is worth a listen.

It’s Not Black and White: Addressing the Binary on the Left Side

~ Randy Blazak ~ 2 Comments

November 20, 2023

It was three years before I found a bumpersticker that I liked enough to put on my first car. I was 19 and in Washington DC, lobbying for the nuclear freeze movement. It was 1983, and I was starting my work as a peace activist. There was a table in a DC church, with various progressive swag, and I bought a baby blue bumper sticker that read, “PEOPLE NOT PROFITS.” It seemed a summation of our struggle in Reagan’s war machine eighties.

People, not profits. Forty years later, I think, why not both? People AND profits!

When I was young, I lived in a world of black and white, good versus evil. It was a simple terrain to navigate. “You are either with us or you’re against us.” The us and them mentality had clear dividing lines. The misfits versus the straights. Left versus right. The oppressed versus the oppressors. Then I grew up and realized it is all shades of grey, context, and nuance. Nothing is black and white. And Ronald Reagan did a few (a few) good things.

I love how my fellow travelers on the left have worked at smashing binaries with regard to gender. Men and women are not “opposite sexes.” Gender is fluid in definition and performance. And so is sexuality. As Kurt Cobain sang, “Everyone is gay.” Well, at least a little bit. And more and more people define themselves as belonging to more than one racial category, including my daughter. We are a nation of “mulattos” and it’s beautiful. Smash the binary. Reality is intersectional!

I was at a pro-Palestine rally at Portland’s city hall this weekend where hundreds of people had gathered to call for a cease fire in Gaza. The young organizers were leading the crowd in boisterous chants, some calling for peace, but other refrains included, “2, 4, 6, 8, Israel is a terrorist state,” and “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free!” I get it. I imagine that if you are a parent in Gaza right now and your child has just been killed by an Israeli bomb, you are probably not blaming Hamas. I get it. And I get that Israel is probably facing an existential crisis in this moment, as these chants grow louder and louder around the globe. “Was this the best response to the slaughter on October 7?”

I thought about the death on both sides and the hostages who may still be alive somewhere in Gaza.  I thought about how I was being pushed back into a binary. Israel versus Palestine, which side are you on, boy? I want to blur the binary, and say I’m for Israel AND Palestine. Obviously, there are people who want to eliminate Israel and/or Palestine from the face of the earth. But there are lots of people who don’t, including Israelis who have had family members killed by Hamas rockets and Palestinians who have had family members killed by Israeli rockets. I stand with them. Defend Israel. Defend Gaza.

I went through this three years ago when I was showing up for the Black Lives Matters protests in downtown Portland. Graffiti started popping up around the city that read, ACAB. “All Cops are Bastards.” I groaned, because I knew this reductionist thinking was appealing to the teenage brain, but A. It doesn’t help foster real systemic change, and B. It’s not true. Some cops are bastards and I’ve been lecturing about them for 30 years and trying to find real ways to keep them off the streets. But I know lots of police officers who are doing their work because they are dedicated to the same social justice values that I am. Maybe the left needs better slogans, or just a push to get out of its teenage brain.

Barack Obama’s political rise was based on the simple idea that America is not divided up into red and blue states. We all live in various shades of purple. We have been told we’re divided and we’ve swallowed the sales pitch fully. There are millions of Americans who are dreading the holidays, when they will be stuck at the dinner table with family members who have “opposite” views. We’re constantly being lectured about how polarized we are. All this divisiveness does not make America great. It turns the nation into a schoolyard screaming match. No member of the MAGA brigade ever turned in their red hat because some progressive called them an idiot. (And whatever the “vice versa” of that would be.)

This project I’ve been working on for the past year, Cure-PDX, is looking for ways to break through the us versus them binary that all too often spirals into political violence. We can recognize that our teenage brains want to “fight evil.” But what if there was no evil? What if it was all just ancient systems of oppression that we all get sucked into either reinforcing or resisting? A gay man suffers from the weight of a heterosexist society but also enjoys the privileges of patriarchy. Is he the good guy or the bad guy?

When the Israel-Hamas war exploded, I saw people get pulled in either direction, just like I witnessed with the “Black Lives Matter/Blue Lives Matter” narratives that must have made every black cop’s life nuts in 2020. Then, as now, I want to embrace what is valid about both sides. There is a line that for one side to exist, the other must be destroyed. We have the capacity to reject that simplistic world view. The goal of the powerful is to divide us, conservatives versus liberals, black lives versus cop lives, Israelis verses Palestinians. That’s how the status quo is maintained.

As we head into this fractious election cycle, where some are screaming for civil war, I’m going to look for the humanity in the other side. Instead of dropping verbal bombs (or real ones), I’m going to ask questions and find where our values align. I’m going to work for peace. And I know there will be those that say this position somehow empowers the “bad guys.” I anticipate the name calling, the accusations of betrayal. But maybe, just maybe, the frightening truth is that progress comes from building bridges, not dropping bombs.

Side Note: I’m still writing an imaginary musical, called Northwest Side Story, where an Antifa girl and a Proud Boy fall in love. Maybe instead of the tragic Romeo and Juliet ending, I’ll have them move to a kibbutz on the River Jordan.

I Was Jimmy Carter’s Most Annoying Student

~ Randy Blazak ~ 3 Comments

February 19, 2023

As a Georgia boy, it was a big deal when the peanut farmer from Plains was elected as President of the United States in 1976. I was 12-years-old and remember my mother showing off her drivers license that was signed by “Governor Jimmy Carter.” His election was a rejection of all the Watergate era corruption that had tanked America’s faith in government. It was meant to be a return to normal, with an ethical Southerner who had admitted to Playboy Magazine that he had lusted in his heart. Seemed better than Gerald Ford falling down the stairs again.

I could write pages on how history will kindly remember the 1977-1981 term that Carter had in the White House. Having a human rights advocate who loved Willie Nelson and the Allman Brothers stood in stark contrast to what was to come. Sadly, much of my high school experience was to be marked by the Iranian hostage crisis. One of the 52 Americans held in Teheran was Col. Charles Scott, of Stone Mountain, Georgia and his daughters went to my school. When they were finally released on January 20, 1981, we covered our town in yellow ribbons. 

Fast forward to my 1984-1985 senior year at Emory University, in Atlanta. I had become a sociology major and dedicated a large percentage of my waking hours to protesting whatever Ronald Reagan was doing that week. By my senior year, I had pretty much taken every sociology class Emory offered and added Political Science as a second major. I needed the scholarship to inform my activism. I would wear my Sandinista t-shirt to Professor Juan del Aguila’s Latin American Politics class and spar with him over the CIA’s role in the 1954 overthrow of Guatemala’s democracy for the benefit of the United Fruit Company. Good times.

My favorite classes were Professor Thomas Remington’s Soviet politics class. This was at the peak of the cold war when the U.S. and USSR were positioned, like two tribes, to wipe each other off the face of the map. On the first Wednesday of each month, at noon, the air raid sirens on campus would wail to remind us that Emory’s CDC (and all of us college kids) were the likely target of a nuclear strike. Remington’s classes seemed vital to understanding the Russian bear.

So it was great excitement that Professor Remington told us that President Carter would be doing a series of guest lectures in our Soviet Foreign Policy class. Carter had accepted a professorship in 1982, during my freshman year, and we would occasionally catch sitings of him on campus, but to sit in a classroom listening to a former U.S. president, instead of reading about him, was a privilege beyond belief.

It might not surprise you that I was the kid in the front row with his hand constantly darting up in the air. While Carter had an unrestricted forum at Emory, I was suddenly a 20-year-old with unrestricted access to the President of the United States. I took scrupulous notes and channelled my inner Arnold Horshack to pepper him with endless questions. Like this classic; “President Carter, why did you authorize Presidential Directive 59, authorizing the use of nuclear weapons if the Soviets advanced past Afghanistan?”

At times it seemed like it was just Jimmy and I in the room. He kindly addressed each of my questions with clarity and as much declassified intel as he could share with an overly earnest college kid. I imagined that the eyes of my fellow students were rolling as I continued the one-on-one but I was eternally grateful to Dr. Remington for creating this space that revealed the real world complexity of governing that was dramatically different from my Marxist-wannabe dogmatism.

The pay off was on a spring day in 1985 when I was sitting on the steps of Cox Hall with my gang of misfit Emoroids. We’d have our lunch there to talk about upcoming punk shows and make fun of frat boys. Suddenly, President Carter came out of Cox Hall with a small group, and stopped to say, “Hi Randy! How are your classes going?” As he walked away, my friends were just silent.

The following year Carter hosted a summit with Gerald Ford at Emory on foreign policy. I attended every session (and remember Ford falling asleep at the dais). After that, Carter opened his Carter Presidential Library across the street from my apartment in Little 5 Points. President Reagan came to speak at the opening and Carter (much to Reagan’s chagrin) allowed the event to be open to the public so we arrived to shout rude things at Ronnie. While I was in graduate school at Emory, I would have my Social Problems class work on pressing issues with the Carter Center, submitting my students work to the newly empowered Clinton Administration. Living across the street from his library I would occasionally see Jimmy walking the grounds and picking up trash (can you imagine Donald Trump doing that?) and thank him for those lectures in our Soviet politics classes. “I hope I wasn’t too obnoxious,” I said to him one fall day. “Not at all, Randy. You always asked the questions I wanted to talk about,” he said.

The four-year presidency of James Earl Carter was a tiny fraction of the nearly century long life of this man. Everyone that met him following his tenure in the Oval Office tells a similar version to this little story. A journey of a man guided by intention, service, and humility. It seems like the polar opposite of our current generation of political “leaders.” I was glad to know him and we were lucky to have him.

“Colorblind” White People and MLK’s “I Have a Dream” Speech

~ Randy Blazak ~ 1 Comment

January 16, 2023

I’m not old enough to remember how badly white people hated Martin Luther King, Jr. during his lifetime. How they protested, en masse, his calls for racial integration and an end to Jim Crow. How they called him a communist and a terrorists. How they jailed him and threatened the life of he and his family on a daily basis. I was four years old that day in April when a white person put a bullet in his face on a Memphis hotel balcony. I only learned about that later in my white-authored schoolbooks.

But I am old enough to remember how white people fought tooth and nail to stop Dr. King’s a birthday being made a federal holiday. I was 19 when Ronald Reagan, who spent much of his presidency undoing the civil rights legislation that King fought for, bit his tongue and signed the holiday into law (after 90 white congressmen and 22 white senators voted against it). In my Georgia town, white people began calling the holiday, “Martin Luther Coon Day.”

So I’m leery of how so many white people now embrace Dr. King while ignoring his core messages. As a kid from a southern Klan town, I’m the last person to say that white people’s hearts cannot be changed. I’ve seen the most vicious racists transform into the most dedicated anti-racist activists. And I’ve seen that more than once. But if feels like every MLK Day we get the sanitized version of the black radical who white America despised.

The perfect example is the focus on one passage in King’s 1963 “I Have a Dream” speech that you will hear repeated on Fox News every January.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

Taken out of context this sentence to gets white people off the hook. “Hey, I’ll just judge black people by the content of their character and we can be done with this whole race thing.” This lame assertion denies some very important facts.

  1. Doctor King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, as well as pretty much everything he said, makes the exact opposite case. He was saying we will never get to the colorblind world UNTIL we deal with the engrained problems of structural and cultural racism. “White America must recognize that justice for black people cannot be achieved without radical changes in the structure of our society,” King later wrote. He had a dream of how things could be but we weren’t there in 1963 and we’re still not there in 2023. We have to do the work first. And the work is hard and the push back against the work is mighty. It’s just not from powerful white nationalists like Donald Trump. The pushback is felt in every white person that has ever said, “I’m not a racist, but…”
  2. “I was raised not to see color” is a lie. We live in a white supremacist society that sees white as “good” and “normal” and sees black as “bad” and “other.” We internalize these message throughout our entire lives. All of us internalize white supremacy. Numerous studies have shown that black kindergartners have already learned to value whiteness over blackness. Even if you are not a rabid Klansman, we know these messages about race are baked into your subconscious as implicit bias. Even the most woke-ass liberal notices the black guy standing by their car. Research shows again and again that implicit bias is a factor in why black and brown kids are disciplined more by teachers and why people of color are more likely to be shot by police. So when a white person says they are “colorblind,” they might think they are but they most definitely are not. We are trained to see color from the get-go.
  3. Black and brown people do not have the privilege of being colorblind. Seeing color is a matter of survival. If I’m an African-American man and I walk into a bank full of white people, I may have to adjust my behavior, appearance, and demeanor so the white people a) don’t think I’m there to rob the place, and b) maybe give me the same service that white people get. I had a black student who always wore a suit and tie to class everyday and when I commented on his dapper style he said, “I just got tired of everyone assuming I was here on an athletic scholarship.”
  4. The content of one’s character is most certainly shaped one’s environment and upbringing. If I’m facing the daily sledgehammer of racism and oppression, that’s gonna play a role in my character. Dr. Joy DeGruy, author of the seminal text, Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome, refers to the “ever present anger” black people experience because of the constant othering. If you are going to judge someone by their character, you better understand the forces that helped create it.

In Martin King’s famous “I Have Dream” speech, in a section rarely quoted by contemporary white people, he says:

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality.

Last year there were over a thousand people killed by the police. African-Americans, who make up roughly 12 percent of the population represented 27 percent of those who were killed. George Floyd and every black police victim that has followed speak to the unspeakable horrors that persist. So why should those clamoring for basic human rights be satisfied?

Simplified history-telling has often portrayed white people as facing a perilous question sixty years ago; Either go with the kinder assimilationist rhetoric of Reverend King or face the revolutionary rage of Minister Malcolm X. King or X was a false choice. Underlying MLK’s rainbow vision was a fairly radical call for a power shift in America. The “I Have a Dream” line, “the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood,” was as much about the tables in the backrooms of congress and corporations as it was the tables in diners. Toward the end of his life, King’s message was much more explicitly class-based and anti-war (which must’ve made J.Edgar Hoover’s blood boil).

The white cherry-picking of MLK sentences from long, complex speeches and essays and the casting him as a “good negro” (in contrast to all the “bad” ones) erases the core message of King’s life. Yeah, there as been a little progress, but we ain’t there yet. We still have to explain to white people why black lives matter, because the facts on the table show they still don’t. Until there is fundamental structural change and black people, and other marginalized folks, have the EXACT same access to economic, political, and cultural power, we can dream about it, but we ain’t there yet.

So share the dream. It’s a good one. But action is required. That’s what Martin asked of us.