Music is for Everyone

On the opening night of the 2016 Republican National Convention in Cleveland, Ohio, Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump made the grandest entrance in American political history (as far as I know):

Pageantry.

(Video Source:  https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/the-fix/wp/2016/07/18/the-biggest-winner-of-mondays-gop-convention-was-donald-trumps-amazing-entrance/)

Whether or not you love The Donald, hate his guts, or would rather watch reruns of The Celebrity Apprentice, surely we can all unite in acknowledging that his entrance was freaking amazing.  Heck, even The Washington Post thought it was cool.  I was watching alone in my not-so-portly bungalow and began hooping and hollering like a silver-backed gorilla.

Substantive?  No.  Reason to vote Trump-Pence this November?  Hardly.  An awesome display of pageantry?  Heck, yes.

 

 The Mustache of a Champion.

(Image Source:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freddie_Mercury#/media/File:Queen_1984_0009.jpg; Attribution:  Thomas Steffan)

The showman in me--I am, after all, an over-the-top indie musician with delusions of grandeur--had to share my elation with the world.  No thought can be left unsaid these days, so I took to Facebook.

Here's my Facebook post, and the exchange that is the subject of this piece:

A bitter progressive rains on a parade before taxing and placing racial quotas on it.

Here's a transcript:

TPP:  Whether you love or hate Donald Trump, his entrance at the Republican National Convention just now was EXACTLY how I would have done it--striding in to the strains of a Queen song as a podium rises from the floor. Holy crap...

Bitter Progressive:  Trump opens a party convention that features a platform heavily biased against marriage equality and gay rights by strolling on stage to a song written and performed by a gay man who died of AIDS.

I'm not sure which is stronger, the 2016 GOP's innate knack for unintentional self-parody ("The national seal should include an AR-15!") or its total obliviousness to the concept of irony.

TPP:  Maybe a good song is just a good song.

BP:  The cool thing about music is that there's ALWAYS something deeper.

TPP:  Listen to my EP and you'll learn otherwise. :D

(Note how I cleverly defuse the bitterness with self-deprecating humor that also doubles as shameless promotion for my debut solo EP, Contest Winner EP, available now on iTunes, Google Play, Amazon, and elsewhere.)

For a post about a major political party's convention and controversial nominee, it was probably the least possible political statement I could make... except that, in our present age, everything is politicized.

"Tolerance isn't enough; bitter progressives demand total acceptance, even celebration, of whatever happens to be their cause-of-the-moment."

A quick aside:  I'm going to ignore the "unintentional self-parody" and the GOP's "total obliviousness to the concept of irony," except to ask the following:  how exactly is a political party supposed to acknowledge irony?  Do kill-joy progressives want Donald Trump to say, "Okay, okay, that was awesome, and I'm up here to introduce my wife, but first let me acknowledge that 'We Are the Champions' was written by a gay man, so let's take a moment to check our privilege and reconsider our platform's plank on same-sex marriage"?  I suspect that, even if he did, there'd be a slew of "too little, too late" articles on HuffPo the next day.

(And let me quickly take a moment to acknowledge the irony of writing a post lamenting excessive politicization on a blog that basically has "politics" in the name.)

***

So, let's unpack the first paragraph of Bitter Progressive's first post.  He complains that Trump entered to a Queen song, because the Republican Party platform supports traditional marriage, and Freddie Mercury was gay.  While BP intends this statement to be a slam at the GOP--and as a way of virtue-signalling his own support for gay rights--he essentially reduces a talented musician to one dimension, one personal trait.

I wish homosexual Americans all the best, but I, too, question the wisdom of same-sex marriage.  Does this mean I can't listen to and appreciate Queen, simply because Freddie Mercury happened to be gay?  By this logic, I shouldn't associate with gay people at all, nor should the roughly half of Americans who vote Republican.

Aren't we supposed to reach out to people--regardless of their sexual orientation--and treat them with respect, even if we disagree?  How does demanding an effective ban on music by gay artists for half the population help bridge that gap (and what are Log Cabin Republicans to do)?  How does it increase understanding and tolerance?

"None of [Freddie Mercury's] other qualities matter... until and unless they can be used as a convenient bludgeon to force conformity to the unforeseen priorities of a future age."

It doesn't, and that's not the point.  Tolerance isn't enough; bitter progressives demand total acceptance, even celebration, of whatever happens to be their cause-of-the-moment.

The logic of BP's post also dehumanizes Freddie Mercury (and, by extension, all gay men).  No more is he a phenomenal, groundbreaking singer and songwriter.  Instead, he's defined almost entirely based on who he likes to sleep with, and in turn, our anachronistic opinions about whether or not Mercury can formalize that sexual relationship in a legal forum is supposed to dictate whether or not we are allowed to enjoy his music.  None of his other qualities matter--being a man, having an awesome mustache, possessing an amazing voice--until and unless they can be used as a convenient bludgeon to force conformity to the unforeseen priorities of a future age.

Another pop culture example:  I disagree vehemently with pretty much everything Lady Gaga has ever said or done.  Her live concerts are like modern-day Dianic rituals to some pagan fertility goddess.  She prioritizes sexual libertinism over all else.  But, damn if I don't like "Bad Romance"--and even "Born This Way," an (inaccurate) anthem for the gay rights movement.  Should I not listen to her music because I disagree with her political and social views (there are other, better, aesthetic reasons to do so)?  If BP had his way, I suppose not.

A more useful, valid critique of Trump's epic entrance would point out the danger to a free republic of falling for grand pageantry... as a substitute for responsible self-government.

A more useful, valid critique of Trump's epic entrance would point out the danger to a free republic of falling for grand pageantry--"bread and circuses," as one of my colleagues put it--as a substitute for responsible self-government.  I'll admit that I loved every second of Trump's approach, but I'm not making an important voting decision based on a fifteen second stroll.  However, some people will love it too much, and make a decision based solely on pageantry.

That's a legitimate concern.  Freddie Mercury's sex life forty years ago--which magically makes "We Are the Champions," an incredibly politics-neutral song off-limits--isn't.

***

Music should be for everyone to enjoy (songwriters should, of course, retain the rights to their works, but that's not the issue here).  If we want to build a productive civil society--one with disagreements, but common respect--we shouldn't criticize one group for enjoying a song because of an incidental personal characteristic of the songwriter.  Some of my best fans are liberals and progressives.  Should I be offended that they listen to "Hipster Girl Next Door" even if it describes their lifestyle-liberalism to a tee (surely some of them fail to recognize the irony)?  Should they shun me from their slam poetry readings and drum circles because I don't think the government should pay for urine-soaked "art"?

Of course not.  Let's grow up and just let a good song be a good song.  Maybe we'll learn something while singing together.

The European Union is NOT the United States

Post-Brexit (yes, yes, I know I promised on Wednesday that I'd be moving away from Brexit posts, and you'll soon find I wasn't lying... completely), I've heard several arguments that boil down to "the European Union is good because unity will make Europe stronger.  Just look at the United States!  It was a mess under the Articles of Confederation, but came together to become a world power under the Constitution."

The comparison is tempting and not without merit.  Certainly, the United States benefited greatly when the sovereign States ceded some of their power--such as that over the coinage and printing of money and defense--to the national government.  Putting the power to regulate interstate commerce eliminated the practice of States placing different tariff levels on British goods, for example, and aided in the creation of of a common national market.  The formation of the Supreme Court, and the subsequent creation of the federal judiciary under the Federal Judiciary Act of 1789, allowed States to adjudicate disputes more fairly.  Why couldn't Europe achieve the same "more perfect union" with its goal of "ever closer union"?

"American nationalism derives primarily from a shared set of ideas."

Unfortunately for Europhiles, the comparison breaks down quickly upon closer inspection.  There are three key areas of difference between the United States and the vision of a "United States of Europe":  common language and culture; a common legal tradition grounded in the rule of law; and a legacy of representative, democratic-republicanism.  The young United States possessed these three qualities; modern Europe lacks them.

The first point--common language and culture--will be a contentious one.  There are myriad, if predictable, objections:  Americans came from many sources, not just England;  colonials expanded into territories that either belonged to American Indians, or to European competitors (notably the Dutch and the Swedes, but also the Spanish and French); settlers to different parts of British North America came from different cultural and religious groups in the British Isles; and so on.  Indeed, German almost became the official language of a young United States.

I discussed the ethnic and religious diversity of colonial and early republican America at some length in my essay "Created By Philosophy," and previously argued that American nationalism derives primarily from a shared set of ideas (in "American Values, American Nationalism").  However, despite this vivid and ubiquitous diversity, English culture and values ultimately became the overwhelming norm in British North America, and morphed into a distinctly American identity in the 18th century (though one that was, until independence, decidedly English).  English may not be the constitutionally official language of the United States, but it is the lingua franca of the nation (and the world), and has been so for centuries.  Every wave of immigrants (until relatively recently) has understood that mastery of English is a prerequisite to long-term success in and assimilation to American culture.

English Protestantism--infused with Scottish Calvinism and German piety--was a unifying force in the colonies.  When the First Great Awakening hit in the late 18th century, it cemented America's culture, even as it spawned multiple new denominations.  The ultimate denominator, however, was a broadly Protestant Christian worldview (one that gradually and unevenly came to tolerate, and then to accept, Catholics, Jews, and believers and non-believers of all stripes).

"English Protestantism... was a unifying force in the colonies."

The story of America, ideally, is that of unity within a culture that values diversity of viewpoints, but insists upon an acceptance of a basic, common, Judeo-Christian morality; thus, "E Pluribus Unum."  That morality, in turn, informs the legal system, one descended from centuries of English common law.  Respect for the rule of law--the notion that no man, even the king, is above the law--guided the English people toward increasing freedom.

 

Evangelist George Whitefield knew how to preach to the masses of British North America, and he had the hair to prove it.

(Image Source:   https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:George_Whitefield_(head).jpg)

So, too, did it lead Americans to their independence.  The American Revolution--and the various conflicts between colonial assemblies and royal governors--of the 18th century in many ways echoed the struggles between Parliament and the Stuart monarchs in 17th-century England.  Americans did not revolt because they rejected bad tea or because they resented taxation--they revolted because they weren't represented.  Americans did not have a say in the taxes that were (not unfairly) levied on the colonies to help pay for the French and Indian War (the similarities to the Leave campaign should be obvious).  Rule of law was circumvented, and Americans would not abide such a trampling of their rights

Thus, we come to the English--and then American--commitment to representative rule.  The United States really took the lead here, though Great Britain began expanding the franchise and reforming parliamentary representation in the 19th century as white manhood suffrage became the norm in Jacksonian America.  (Here's a fun aside:  there used to exist parliamentary seats that represented places with no people in them.)  Regardless, the notion that the people should be represented in their government--and should be able to hold it accountable with fair, free, and frequent elections--is an important part of America's constitutionally-limited, representative, federal republic.

Europe as an entity lacks all of these qualities.  Yes, certain members states have some of these qualities to varying degrees, but the European Union as a whole is sorely lacking in these areas.

- Culture and Language:  The United States had the unique opportunity to create a nation afresh.  Europe has had no such luxury, and seems to be inexorably divided into different languages and cultures.  This division is not necessarily bad, but it makes unity much more difficult.  It explains the natural struggle against "ever closer union," a struggle that is often visceral because people sense there is something artificial and disingenuous about the Europhile vision of a united Europe.  There are, after all, still traditionalists living (and voting) throughout Europe.

 "[S]ecularism is the new, unifying religion of Europe."

The long, oft-ancient histories of these nations makes it even more difficult for them to share a common worldview.  Even secular, progressive Europe still experiences the lingering cultural effects of centuries of faith.  France might have thrown out God with the French Revolution, but the "First Daughter of the Church" is still suffused, albeit in a subtle, weakened way, with centuries of faith.  Such a faith culture, even hollowed out, will naturally, if imperceptibly, struggle to  reconcile itself with that of other, contradictory traditions.

I suspect this explains why the European Union seems hell-bent on advancing as many socially progressive causes as possible:  secularism is the new, unifying religion of Europe.  But there will always be push-back against this dehumanizing, nihilistic vision of man's place in the universe.

Language, too, transmits the ideas and values of a people.  I am no linguist, but--unlike French theorists like Jacques Derrida--I believe that words have power and transmit meaning.  Such meaning is deep, part of the warp and woof of life.  Why else would educated societies devote so much time to learning and analyzing language and literature?  There's no need to read Shakespeare if you just want to a basically literate workforce.  No, there must be some power in language.  Linguistic diversity, therefore, is a beautiful thing, but it also means that different cultural values are transmitted differently throughout Europe.  No one associates Russian, for example, with greater freedom and sober living.

But I digress.

- Rule of Law:  Of course different nations in Europe have rule of law (except Belarus).  The European Union, however, does not.  Yes, it might have European law, but this law is promulgated by an unelected committee of elites, figures who don't identify strongly with their nations of origin, but rather with a vague, secular-progressive idea of Europe, one that barely tolerates dissent or input from the people.  Furthermore, how does one reconcile, say, French civil law with English common law?  The deep divisions of history are huge hurdles to overcome.

- Representative Government:  As I've stated many times, the European Union is not representative.  That's why the Brexit vote was so important, and why it has drawn so many comparisons to the American Revolution:  the normal people of Britain rose up against an unelected, unaccountable elite and boldly proclaimed their right to self-determination.  Brits seized back the ability to hold their elected leaders accountable.

The elite, Europhile vision of a United States of Europe is one of non-representative, coerced redistribution.  Give the proles bread and circuses, and they will submit on bended knee to the edicts of Brussels.  Remember, the "Remain" side of the Brexit debate was primarily premised on maintaining access to EU goodies, not about the people's ability to choose such a course.

Nothing could be further from the vision of America's Founders and Framers.  They possessed a healthy skepticism about unbridled democracy, but recognized that the people were the source of government's authority; that the people govern themselves most effectively; and that the people should be able to hold their leaders accountable.  Yes, liberty comes at a price--many prices, in fact.  One of those is the ever-present risk that the people will make mistakes.

Inevitably, they will.  But a common, tolerant culture; a shared respect for the rule of law; and an understanding of the rights and responsibilities of republican government will guide voters to wisdom more often than folly.

Self-government does not always fit neatly into the schemes of elite technocrats and busy-body regulators.  But it ultimately makes for a happier, freer, and more prosperous society.