Prepare for Some High Fundie and High White House Anxiety Today

Trump Unhinged

I watch the Cable News Network (CNN) coverage of the Robert Mueller investigation nearly every evening, starting with Jake Tapper in the late afternoon and going all the way up through the end of Don Lemon’s broadcast at the end of the normal CNN workday.  According to yesterday’s reporting on matters behind the scenes at the White house, Ole Massuh Trump was coming apart at the seams and had more High Anxiety than Mel Brooks could ever dream up.  The trigger for Ole Massuh was the sudden and unexpected report that Presidential Office Legal Counsel Don McGahn had spent more than 30 hours being interviewed by staff members of the Mueller investigation. The White House apparently had no idea that he had undergone detailed interrogation for that long—which is really, really, really long—and McGahn had never told anyone how long. Most interviewees get only 8 to 12 hours on the hot seat.

One other key factor—a factor Ole Massuh apparently never quite understood until it was too late—even though it had been “mansplained” to him—is that Mr. McGahn is not a personal attorney to the President.  Rather, he is the personal attorney to the Office of the President. This means he represents in legal affairs that touch the Office of the President—but not the president himself as an individual person. Got that? Because McGahn is not a personal attorney to the President, he is not bound by the ethics of attorney-client privilege?  What does that mean? It means McGahn was ethically free to go into the interview with the Mueller team and sing as loud and unbounded as the classic stool pigeon in old gangster movies. Knowledge of that  unnerved Ole Massuh and his White House staff.

A few rumors indicate that McGahn tried his best to avoid saying anything that might implicate Ole Massuh in any crimes—but those are just grapevine rumors. The reality of the matter is that no one, including the White House, knows for sure what McGahn said in that long 30+ hour interview, how much he said, and in what detail he said things about particular subjects. For all anyone knows, he may have sold Ole Massuh down the pike about any of Trump’s wrongdoing—that he knows Ole Massuh did.

I could be wrong about this—and admit it upfront.  However, I expect the jury in the Paul Manafort trial to complete their deliberations late today and deliver verdicts on the 18 federal criminal charges against Manafort, which carry a combined maximum sentence of 305 years in a federal prison.  Most people do not know this, but unlike state prisons, there is no federal parole system. Barring a successful appeal in court or a presidential pardon, Manafort will be required to serve the full term of his combined sentences, which likely means he will be in prison for the rest of his natural life, being as how he is already 69 years old.

If the Manafort verdicts come in today and most of them or all of them are “guilty as charged,” something really big is going to happen across the ensuing 24-72 hours after the verdicts are read.  You see.  In all of the time that has passed under the bridge since the Mueller investigation began, the entire Mueller investigation has just been an annoying HYPOTHETICAL in the mind of  Old Massuh Trump. He has parried against that hypothetical by creating a whole series of false realities in his mind, and he draws some measure of personal psychological comfort from those false realities about the Mueller investigation, and Rudy Giuliani has helped him with that by creating more false realities to comfort him.

When the Manafort guilty verdicts are read, and they most likely will be guilty because the Washington D.C. Federal District Court has a 90-95 percent rate of success with federal convictions, the guillotine blade of psychological REALITY is going to slam straight down on Ole Massuh’s neck for the first time since the Mueller investigation began. The false realities Ole Massuh has comforted himself with are going to begin rapidly melting away like a bowl of ice-cream on an stifling August day in the Tidal Basin. For the first time, someone close to the President will be going to prison, for perhaps hundreds of years, and for the first time Ole Massuh is going to be confronted with a mental picture of himself sitting alone in a prison cell with no gold toilet for the rest of his natural life.

Trump is already mentally unhinged. Everyone with eyes to see and ears to hear knows that now.  He became even more unhinged over this past weekend when he generated one of the largest and most insane Tweet storms in Trumpian history. He began  popping bolts and rivets when the 30+ hour McGahn testimony came to light yesterday.  When the Manafort guilty verdicts are read and REALITY sets in later today, I suspect Ole Massuh is going to completely blow his lid and fly apart at the seams for 24-72 hours. Indeed, they may need to call the men in white suits to the White House with their giant butterfly nets.  It is going to be one crazy ride for all of us—so say your prayers for personal deliverance, hold tight to your seats, and be prepared to run to your nearest federally approved civil defense fallout shelter (just kidding on that last one—maybe?).

Fundie:  “You apostate Christians!!!  If this happens, why don’t you pray for the poor man like we do, and then get behind him and support him in all that he says and does? After all, he is OUR President. God is the one who personally put him into office as the Anointed One of the Lord to rescue our fundie people and our belief system from annihilation. Knowest thou not that we Christian fundamentalists and conservative evangelicals are the most highly loved and highly favored of all God’s people?  He loves us so much more than he loves you—so you should kneel before us and do as we say. Pray for our nice, honest, balanced, and level-headed Mr. Trump who is making all things new again and saving our great nation.  Make America Great again!!!!”

Lurch:

 

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More Interesting Details and Perspectives on the “Christian Fundamentalist Persecution Complex”

Fundie Persecution Complex

Fundie Being Persecuted for Opposing Female Pastors.  Yeah—Right.

In my main blog post a couple of weeks ago, you were introduced to the Christian Fundamentalist Persecution Complex, and I offered some of my own personal thoughts about it.  That is not a term I made up out of thin air. Other people first identified it in fundie faith context long ago and coined this term to accurately describe what they were observing. I just wanted to advise you of that and offer you several on-line articles that directly address this persecution complex and various aspects of it.

I have five articles for you on this subject, and I must confess that I have not read them. Therefore, I am going to be reading them in parallel with you kind and loving folks. For your education and mine too, you may read these articles at your leisure by clicking on the following safe links:

The Evangelical Persecution Complex—in The Atlantic

5 Reasons the Religious Right Should Quit Whining about Being Persecuted

Christian Fundamentalists: You’re Not Persecuted, You’re Just White

Privilege, Not Persecution: It’s time for Christian Fundamentalists to Quit Whining

Anyone Else Sick of the Christian Right Whining about ‘Persecution’?

The comments box is open if you have something to say on this subject.  Just click on the title of this main post and scroll down to enter your comments.

I hope you all have a happy Sabbath Day aujourd’hui. Thunderstorms and rain are predicted for my homeland—the American South.  However, I am not concerned about it because I have lots of writing to do on a favorite research project, and it is more or less necessary to stay inside to do it.  God Bless You All!!!

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A Message for Christian Fundamentalists and Conservative Evangelicals——–and You Too Southern Baptists

God Judges America

Christian fundamentalists, conservative evangelicals, and members of the Southern Baptist Convention.  This is a message of prophecy sent to you.  You hitched your lasso to the star of President Donald J. Trump. It was a grievous and grave error of extremely poor spiritual discernment  and judgement.  Russell Moore warned you, but you did not listen to him.  You are now inextricably linked to Trump. The American people at-large now view you and Trump as a single entity. You cannot escape from that. Trump is beginning to fall into the abyss of scandal—one his presidency will not survive—and neither will your faith traditions. The slide into oblivion begins the moment the guilty verdict is read in the trial of Paul Manafort—just a few workdays away—maybe even today. If Manafort is found guilty, everything is straight downhill from there for both Trump and YOU.  Yes, I am talking to YOU.

A devout Southern Baptist once told me that general public perception is everything when it comes to how the average man and woman on the street sees Christian fundamentalism, conservative evangelicalism, and the Southern Baptist Convention.  If these men and women see it battered, beaten up, and disgraced, the American public will lose confidence in your belief systems and you will suffer greatly from lost converts, lost baptisms, and lost church members who walk out the door forever.

I am going to show you what you and your faith traditions shall look like in the eyes of the American people next year at this time as Trump slides toward the fate of Richard Nixon—only this time President Trump will be forcibly removed from office by the U.S. Congress and will be spending the rest of his life in a federal prison. Christian fundamentalists, conservative evangelicals, and members of the Southern Baptist Convention, you are going to look like the girl in the music video below at this time next year.  You have allied yourselves with evil—and her fate is the fate of your conservative faith traditions in the eyes of the American people—and you will not be given one once of empathy or sympathy—because you willfully allied yourselves with evil when you should have known better.

Watch closely for the Paul Manafort verdict this week—and remember—the girl in the video is your faith traditions next year at this time—because the map of what goes down across the next year with Trump inevitably leads to you and your faith traditions—-because you and your faith traditions allied yourselves with Trumpian evil. Click the white triangle to play:

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President Trump and High-Level Intelligence Officers

Those of you who follow the daily news are no doubt aware that El Presidente Donaldo Trump is behaving like the president of a Banana Republic by cancelling the high-level national security clearances of certain retired federal managers. His first target was former CIA Director John O. Brennan. Trump cancelled his Top Secret clearance day before yesterday.  Some think retired Director of National Intelligence and former U.S. Air Force General James Clapper is the next. In fact, Trump has a whole list of targets that is being derided as the Trump Enemies List. The last American president with an enemies list was disgraced President Richard Nixon in the depths of the Watergate scandal.

The people on Trump’s list all share one thing in common. They have dared to publicly criticize Trump. However, all of these people are now private citizens (just like you and me), and most of them made their public criticisms of Trump after they left office. These Trump targets are highly respected people with unimpeachable credentials of long-term service to the American people and our nation. Cancelling the security clearance of someone like Brennan or Clapper is tantamount to cancelling the clearance of George Washington.

Moreover, by withdrawing these security clearances, Trump is recklessly endangering our national security because in times of national crisis, government officials often must reach out to these retired officials for unique information and expertise necessary to deal with the crisis. This is why their clearances are normally retained even after retirement. Consulting with them in a future national crisis will not be so easy to do if they no longer have high-level security clearances.  Such clearances are needed to freely discuss crisis details that involve Top Secret information—and they will surely involve just such information.

The public criticism Trump gets is richly deserved, and the Flee from Christian Fundamentalism blog commends each American patriot—especially those on the Trump Enemies List—who has had the courage to step forward and tell the American people what a lousy American President Trump really is—not to mention just plain evil in terms of numerous traditional Christian measurements of evil.

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Rest in Peace and Love Aretha Franklin

The Flee from Christian Fundamentalism blog offers its kind and loving condolences to the family members, friends, and fans of Aretha Franklin. You too Don Lemon. We shall not see her likes again anytime soon.  She was a gift from God.  Her dad knew it—and eventually—so did nearly everyone else.

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The One Drop Rule

Ku Klux Klan Rally

A Snapshot of Hell-on-Earth

I bet you think I am talking about a delicate vase in a gift shop—and if I drop it—I own it. As the My Profile section of this blogspot says, I grew up in the American South and have lived my whole life here. As a result, I am fluently conversant in the traditional racist culture of the American South—while trying hard not to hold such terrible beliefs about my brothers and sisters of various colors and ethnicities. This week Ole Massuh Trump is being raked over the hot coals for his racism and the firing of African-American White House employee Omarosa Manigault Newman—who claims knowledge of a tape where Ole Massuh Trump is caught uttering a racist slur.  I was just wondering if Ole Massuh and you kind readers out there are familiar with the One Drop Rule, which was enforced in the American South during the African-American slavery years and the Jim Crow Era.

The One Drop Rule predates modern genetics but relates to human genetics in a crude way.  White people in the Old South used the One Drop Rule as the primary discriminator for sorting out “who is white” from “who is black.”  If a human being—any human being—had even one drop of African-American blood flowing through their veins, they were socially and culturally defined as African-American—and treated that way.  In other words:

If your skin was whiter than the driven snow…

If your hair was naturally straight and platinum blonde…

If your nose was narrow and tiny…

If your lips were thin as a razor’s edge…

If you had the world’s best and most compact bubble butt…

If you had an excellent nasal sill…

If your eyes were penetrating blue…

If you were thin and sleek as Behati Prinsloo…

If your beautiful body contained 1.5 gallons of blood…

If only one microscopic atom of that blood came from deepest, darkest Africa…

Then you were automatically and culturally one of the deepest, shiniest, darkest ebony n-words who ever lived on the face of the Earth—you were treated that way by southern whites—and you were legally subject to slavery in the Old South and legally required to use the Negroes Only restroom in the Jim Crow Era.  That is how bad the racism was in the Old South. The tiniest bit of anything African-American could taint, stain, or ruin anything it touched—outside acts of beaten down servitude.

Small children in the American South sometimes put coins in their mouths—even me in 1955. To this very day, I remember the rapid, angry, and sharp chastisements from my parents and other adults when I put coins in my mouth:

Charles!!!  Get those coins out of your mouth right now!!!  They may have been touched by a dirty, nasty, low-down, lazy, rotten, no-good-for-nothin’ nigger!!!

By that time—at the young age of 3 years—I had already been enculturated to fully understand that the coins in my young hand had not been touched by just one highly unusual African-American person. Not at all. My family members were informing me (over and over and over again) that all African-Americans—even the ones saved by Jesus and bound for Heaven—even the tiny babies wrapped in pure white—were dirty, nasty, low-down, lazy, rotten, no-good-for-nothin’ n-words—-100 percent—every last one of them in the American South—and wherever else—including even the ones successfully solving complex calculus problems in Africa.

My uncle by marriage was an odious white man of mean nature, miserliness, and low character.  Even in my college years, I ventured home one day and found Uncle Bill in my biological aunt’s living room—pontificating about the nature of African-American men.  I remember exactly what Uncle Bill said.  Here is the quotation:

Why…having sex with a white woman is the black man’s highest aspiration!!!

A few years later, Uncle Bill received a cancer diagnosis from his doctor. He and my aunt came home afterwards.  My aunt went to the kitchen.  Uncle Bill went to the bedroom—to get his handgun.  He went into the kitchen with it and said to my Aunt, “Well, I guess I’ll let you live.”  He then put the weapon to his head and blew his brains out right in front of her horrified eyes. She and Uncle Bill were regular members of a Campbellite Church of Christ congregation, which apparently did nothing to change his low-down ways. Just another typical fundie failure!!!

I even heard the same thing  from southern white kids at college in the 1970s. The racism had made its way into their Baby Boomer brains, and its presence there had become one big joke—coming out of their mouths as:

Africa—Africa—Africa—Aficuh—Aficuh—Afucuh- Afucka white woman any time I can find one.  (Huge Laughter)

In my college days, I lived on the west side of campus in a huge dormitory complex with a gigantic central courtyard. One of the local TV stations was showing old Tarzan movies, starring Olympic swimmer Johnny Weissmuller, on late weekday afternoons.  The local African-American community was really upset at the TV station for showing them, and the controversy was all over the local news.

A large cafeteria was located on one side of the courtyard, and at dinner time, students would walk over to eat. The white students tended to go alone or in groups of two or three.  The African-American students tended to walk over together in large groups. Some of the white students in their high-rise dorm rooms rigged up their high-wattage stereos with speakers that blasted out of their open dorm windows. Whenever a group of African-American students stepped into the courtyard and headed for the cafeteria, a recorded version of Johnny Weissmuller’s famous Tarzan Yell would boom loudly straight out of the dorm windows and right down onto the African-American students. They looked up in horrified amazement, and white student laughter descended down upon them from many open dorm windows. It was really a sad sight—repeated over and over again on numerous afternoons.

Even one of my best friends back home—Tony—was not above dealing in this racism. In our teenage years, he had an inclination towards writing poems and stories. Orally, just for fun, he would try out potential story lines and narratives. At one point, just to have fun and annoy me, he came up with this oral narrative that my real name was not Charles Garabedian—but rather “Shine” Garabedian—because I had an imaginary secret granddaddy who was—and I quote Tony: “a shiny black nigger.” I got teased no end for years, but it eventually blew back onto him.

During his college years, Tony fell in love with a girl from Thailand, and they married for life (until his death at age 63 in 2015 when both he and she were M.D. medical doctors). She was a slim, beautiful, athletic girl with coarse black hair and classic Asian epicanthic eye folds—and skin darker than usual Asian skin (probably from India’s genetic inroads into ancient Siam). She liked to sunbathe too, and it made her skin even darker.

Tony and she arrived in our southern hometown one August day, and they asked me to go to the county fair with them. It was in the evening, and we shot over to the county fairgrounds to get in line for purchasing tickets. Tony and his wife were right in front of me in line, got their tickets first, and walked on into the fair. After purchasing my ticket, I noticed two old, fat, shabby-looking white men sitting on wooden boxes right behind the ticket booth. One of them raised his arm, and pointed toward Tony and his bride. I caught his exact words in my left ear as I passed them by:

Lookie there at that nice young white boy—going into the fair with that goddamn fucking nigger girl.

I smiled quietly because of their failure to notice that she was Asian rather than of African descent.  Southern racism has always slept on the couch of willful ignorance, and this was just one more example of it to put in my mental notebook.

Those are just a few of my memories about racism in the American South in the 1950s, 1960s, and early 1970s. I could tell you more racism stories, but I will stop there. You now have the full flavor of those times in the highly conservative southern town where I grew up and in the southern city where I attended college.  If you were offended by use of the n-word and other bad language in the quotations, it was not my intent to offend you. I was merely offering you quotations from a past time that contained the words that flavored that past time. Without them, you would not fully understand what those times were really like if you had not lived through them in the American South.

President Donald J. Trump is a racist—plain and simple. He is our first overtly racist President  in 153 years—the last one being President Andrew Johnson from Greeneville, Tennessee.  Trump is making the sordid racist flavors of past times come back to life again today. Many of the Christian fundamentalists and conservative evangelicals in the red states of the American South are cheering him on because they are racists too.

A large number of today’s northern racists in places like Indiana and Michigan are the immediate relatives and descendants of these same southern whites—people who moved north for industrial jobs near the beginning of World War II and took their fundie religion and racism north with them—back to the places of the Christian fundamentalist movement’s origins 100 years ago around the Great Lakes.

The racist days of old I have described above are the “good ole days ” to these people—mostly elderly white people—but some young ones too. They love those good ole days when the n-word was a sophisticated and acceptable word in any open conversation among God’s upright southern people. They want to take all of America (you and me) back with them to those awful racist times and make them live again in the here and now. In their minds, the racial insanity I described above is part of an oddly “perfect” America that exists in their brains. Trump knows that, and he is leading his fundie people (and many others too) into that sick Promised Land.

I hope you will realize that any land where it is acceptable to truly hate your brothers and  sisters of color—-and call them n-words (or any other such epithet)—really meaning it in a disparaging way—is not the Promised Land. That land has another name. It is called “Hell-on-Earth.” It is a land where death of the body, mind, and soul reigns—and the love of Jesus Christ dies in human hearts.

You can stop this Trumpian expedition to Hell-on-Earth by stepping into a voting booth in November 2018 and pulling the lever for anyone else besides a Republican candidate for the U.S. House of Representatives, U.S. Senate, or State Governor. Even some well-known Republican elected officials and Republican political strategists can no longer stomach this racist Trumpian mess and are planning to either stay home and not vote or vote for a Democrat or Independent for the first time in their lives.  What will you do in November 2018?  It all rests in your hands.

Photo Credit: U.S. Library of Congress

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The Glorious Truth of Speech Impediments

Some journalists are calling summer 2018 the American Summer of Hate. Today the American hate group members who met one year go in Charlottesville, Virginia, are at it again. As some of you are no doubt aware, many members of these groups claim to be Christians, particularly those who are members of the Ku Klux Klan. Today they are celebrating the first anniversary of their so-called Unite the Right event, where one of their sympathizers killed counter protester Heather Heyer last year. They are having a big demonstration in Lafayette Park, which is located right across the street from the White House. I am wondering why they chose that location. Were they hoping Brother Donnie Trump might walk across the street and join the party?  Too bad he is cooling his heels on vacation in New Jersey right now. Anyway, I think a common speech impediment in the American South says something very special about this Unite the Right rally.

One member of my extended family—a faithful Southern Baptist—talks like this, and delightful truth often flows from it unawares. The nature of this speech impediment or linguistic idiosyncrasy (not sure which it is really) is to phonetically replace an “ah” or “o” sound for a long  “I” or “Y” sound in spoken English. Therefore, when  a person says “Unite the Right,” it comes out of their mouth as:

YOU NOT THE ROT

YOU NOT THE ROT

YOU NOT THE ROT

Well, this is Sunday.  Maybe these dear folks are prophets or messengers coming to us with a message from Jesus.  Ay-y-y-y-y—probably not.  Nonetheless,  there is a lot of truth in the way it comes out.  I hope we can all hear this great truth.

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