… And Then, Kamala

I’m just a hope junkie gettin’ his fix

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Holy moly, by every saint in heaven and all the foam-rubber cheese-hats in Chicago! Nail me blinking to a plastic cross and shove me in a cotton-blend pant-suit, you American Democrats know how to throw a convention!

Thanks to y’all, this hick-town Canadian boy is wide awake for the first time in six years, no longer on the nod from the downers of hate, misinformation, division, despair; bright-eyed and mainlining on my uppers of choice: Hope. Decency. Justice.

And JOY! More laughter, more joy, please! Fill ‘er up and make it premium; I want my hungry harrowed heart to burst with it.

I know that the custodians of the far left—and I want to be clear, the very necessary and respected by me far left—have all kinds of carping, niggling complaints about the DNC, about the process, the platform and the nominee, some justified, some just Goldilocks picking at cold porridge.

But please, let me, let us, have our moment of lungs sparkling with oxygen and hearts glowing with the warm blood of togetherness, of unity, just for a bit. You can tear it all apart and analyze the living crap out of every last thing next week, I promise you.

Right now, please, as I watch the signature speeches of the DNC for the umpteenth time, please just let me cry with relief on your behalf.

Only now do you realize just how much and for how long you’ve endured a kind of political torture; traumatized by a cabal of evil, gleeful, self-important bullies; low-lifes who think it’s presidential to publish AI-generated pictures of Democrats in orange prison jump-suits and smutty remarks about their female opponent and whose clueless blundering leader, caught with his metaphorical pants down by a smart, confident woman, needs us to believe against all the evidence of our senses that the ecstatic crowds filling vast arenas and waiting in mile-long lines are fake.

Only now can you understand how cruelly you’ve been run down and flattened by the juggernaut of Trumpism.

And then, there’s your own, home-grown issues. You’ve been trapped in a defensive position for so long by a party with no respect for the rule of law or even basic standards of decency, that, until now, you’ve forgotten that you can set the narrative. You’ve forgotten that what is progressive to your supporters is extreme to the voting general public; that you are the cutting edge and the sensible centre; forgotten that you can do the difficult right away, but that the impossible takes a little longer. You forget the difference between urgent and important; between activism and politics.

Sometimes you just gotta know where society’s at, because what motivates voters and gains their trust is seeing and hearing that you understand their priorities. I will prepare to duck as I state a dispiriting truth (or proposal, if it will make you hold off with the rotten tomatoes for a few minutes): that the Gaza war, no matter how horrific, is not top of mind or top priority for many Americans.

Let’s Talk About Kamala and Gaza, With or Without Tomatoes

Activism and activist are not dirty words to me despite their contemporary semantic drift into a negative connotation (“activist judges”). Neither is the word protest, though it has also been hemmed in and Disney-fied by governments who want us to believe that protest must above all be polite, even tasteful.

But, bell-bottom-clad flower child of the sixties that I am, I insist that protest must be allowed to be disruptive, unruly, messy (stopping short of violence); I insist that being loud and obnoxious and inescapable, that chanting and shouting and blocking roads, getting in the way, is part of the protest tool-kit. It’s certainly the only way you’ll get to put a daisy down the barrel of a gun. Freedom of belief and of association, the right to assemble peacefully, are at the core of civil rights.

Activism, which includes protest but is not synonymous with protest, casts light on issues that are not on people’s radar; often existential, intractable problems: climate change; the bloodbath in the Middle East. It cries out for us or whoever has the power over the issue to do something that seems impossible.

Politics, on the other hand, is more often about the mundane, the nitty-gritty of making people’s everyday lives better. It thrives on consensus and compromise, finding that baseline on which we can all agree, because, as John Rawls explained in the philosophy of liberalism which was his life’s work, no pluralistic democracy will ever find everyone in agreement about anything but basic values.

Activism creates awareness. Politics is the step after awareness, when we take the problem, throw it in the meat-grinder of compromise and together create a solution. An arbitrary, imposed solution, without compromise, is undemocratic, if it is not in fact already actual tyranny.

It is possible that two things are true: that Harris missed an opportunity at the DNC to headline a Palestinian voice; and that she knows the world is watching to see “who’s side she’s on”, a no-win situation, and to see if she fulfills her promise to reach a solution.

If it was a mistake, so be it. It does not equate to heartlessness, or support of Hamas, or support of Israel’s—Netanyahu’s—shocking, criminal attempt to wipe out every living soul in Gaza. That’s a ludicrous accusation.

Harris’ statement on the situation in Gaza during her acceptance speech was deft and showed consummate skill as she acknowledged the scale of the suffering, but also acknowledged Israel’s “right to defend itself”, without which she would not have the support of Jewish Americans. I’d like to see anyone navigate those shoals better.

I believe the decision not to feature a Palestinian voice was not a mistake in the sense of a slip-up but, if it’s a mistake at all, it was one of strategy. A conscious, thought-out decision not to turn the DNC into a single-issue showcase. It’s simply not credible that she just left it off her list in Google Tasks. “Oh, damn! I forgot the ground beef and the Palestinian!”

I want to reverse-engineer this, because I want you all to calm down, despite the gravity and urgency of the situation.

What might have happened if she had featured a Palestinian voice? I can imagine a couple of scenarios. Any number of influential Jewish voters and organizations object and withdraw their support. Game over. Or, Kamala is branded a “radical” or a “terrorist” by Trump and the media. Or the showcased voice goes off script… ?

What might have happened if a Palestinian speaker had appeared, knowing now as we do that the protests turned rowdy and clashed with police? How many minutes would it have taken the Trump campaign to link Harris with the violence outside? To seed in voters’ minds a nightmare scenario of a Harris presidency causing endless turmoil and civic unrest?

Trump, that staunch defender of protest and “free speech”—you can read about Republican plans to unleash active troops on US protestors in “Project 2025″—this week blamed Biden and Harris for the recent murder of six more Israeli hostages whose bodies were just discovered in Gaza. (Each hostage death opens fresh psychic wounds as it reanimates the horrors of October 7th.)

Netanyahu asked for “forgiveness” for the deaths of the hostages, an outrage of hollow words when everyone and every nation involved in the negotiations, and a majority of Israeli citizens, insist it is Netanyahu who is the chief roadblock to a deal.

The sticking point for protestors is an arms embargo. Friends, protest until you’re blue in the face and turn the political landscape red. It ain’t gonna happen.

Support for Israel cannot “just stop”, Israel cannot be simply abandoned, because Israel expects and deserves continued support from the US, and because support for Israel also means influence over Israel, or, more accurately, over Netanyahu. Let’s remember that over sixty percent of Israeli citizens disapprove of their government and think Netanyahu should not run for prime minister again.

Here’s the deal: A President Harris will call Netanyahu and she will get through, so she can say, “Knock if off, Bibi!”

If you have been a protestor, I applaud your standing up for justice and I defend your right to protest. I also challenge you to call Netanyahu and see what happens. You might find yourself on hold for a few minutes. Have some trail mix handy, for the wait. And prepare what you’re going to say that will achieve the result that three nations—Qatar, Egypt and the US—and rooms full of expert negotiators and career diplomats are struggling to achieve every single day.

You, America, are at an existentially critical moment. This cannot be overstated. You need, and your would-be leaders, Harris and Walz, two fine, smart, visionary people, need, to get their asses in the White House. That’s the priority.

But there are many voters who feel justified in wondering why a crisis not of your making thousands of miles away would take priority over women’s rights and hungry children and unhoused Americans right there at home. Can you even explain why?

I know you burn with outrage over Gaza, and to an extent I share your frustration; at the same time you have to get Harris and Walz elected. And you need every last voter, lifelong Democrats, abdicated Republicans, persuadable undecideds, and persuadable decideds, to trust that Harris and Walz have American concerns front and centre.

A solution in Gaza and solutions to the problems at home are both achievable. Get the people elected who will protect American democracy and together they will be in a position to achieve them.

Where oh where has our Kamala gone?

Kamala kinda disappeared the day after the 2021 inauguration, at least, it felt that way, having assumed the thankless role of VP. An infamously undefined afterthought of an office, except for being the tie-breaking vote in the Senate, VP was not absolutely the perfect role for someone used to setting the agenda and running the show; her mandate of “research the underlying causes of a southern border out of control” was more ivory tower than White House.

(Yes, Kamala Harris has an outsized ego. Do you doubt that about someone who says to themselves, “You know, I could probably be in charge of the most powerful nation in the world! No problem!”? It may be a good thing or it may not be a good thing, but shy retiring POTUS’s are thin on the ground for a reason. Like, maybe Jimmy Carter.)

We thought she was finished. A joke. But it seems she was busy: learning from her mistakes, finding her voice, polishing her take-no-prisoners prosecutor’s style. And not just PD: meeting world leaders, warning Zelensky about the Russian invasion; meeting with women across the nation who detailed their horrendous experiences in the grim new Republic of Gilead.

It must be so, because the woman who emerged at the DNC was as a butterfly to her previous fuzzy caterpillar. She revealed a stunning transformation, poised, authentic, steely and in total command of the narrative. She delivered a speech which ranged in tone from intimate to commanding and on to sublime. Taken in its entirety, it was thrilling.

Particularly moving for me was her experience, as the child of a working single mother, of her extended network of parent substitutes in the neighbourhood. With her voice breaking with emotion, she described it thus :

“None of us family by blood, all of us family by love.”

In that heartfelt declaration I felt my life as a gay man acknowledged and cherished, because many of us have had to create our own “families by love” when our families by blood have rejected us. With that phrase I heard someone who validated my existence in a way I have never experienced before from a public figure. Someone who went straight to the core of the issue. Someone who lifted me up.

I’m not going to lie: I wept.

That’s why I won’t won’t WON’T have any of your carping or your cynicism or your sulky disappointment. I’m not having it. Get it out of my sight. You couldn’t have a better candidate if you whipped one up in a FrankenLab, and I don’t care about the “process”. I don’t give a damn.

I won’t listen to the endless complaints, because they are “woman in the public eye” complaints. Just ask Hillary!

Phony. Grating. Vague. Communist. Not really Black (!). They’re misogynist, knee-jerk reactions that run the gamut from Holy Bible to Hollywood film noir: She’s Delilah, Lilith, corrupter of men, too damn loud. She’s the kooky side-kick, lying serpent, ditzy two-timing dame. She’s a regular femme fatale, your Kamala! She’ll make you fall in love with her, then a week later she’s cutting her initials into your wrist with a piece of broken glass.

Nope. It’s all just as predictable as canned soup.

Wear your flip-flops with pride

Kamala didn’t support fracking. Now she does; or maybe she doesn’t not support it. Kamala “put Black people in prison for marijuana offenses.” Then she supported legalization. What gives?

Umm… ever changed your mind? Like, twenty times a day? Don’t you engage in protest to change the minds of those in power? So why are you clutching your pearls when it happens without your input?

And in a pluralistic democracy, why are you insisting that every candidate must align with your particular wishes on every issue? Assuming other people’s wishes are possible and reasonable, whoever you choose to lead has to walk the line of compromise and concession without failing the test. They’re not going to be perfect, because they’re human and anyway, it’s not a mistake every time you don’t get your way.

Kamala Harris did not “put Black people in prison”. The state put Black people (though not just Black people) in prison because their behavior was against the laws of the state, and Harris was the state prosecutor. It was her job, in the adversarial legal system common to the US and Canada, to advocate for the people against those breaking the laws. Otherwise, trials can’t happen.

People evolve. People change their minds on issues as they mature and gain experience and understanding.

Elizabeth Warren was a die-hard conservative until she was tasked with pursuing stiffer penalties for consumers defaulting on credit card debt—and during the process she learned how credit card issuers stack the deck and scam their customers. She then became a champion for the very consumers she had been told to penalize more harshly. She became a progressive. She changed her mind.

This is not flip-flopping or indecisiveness. It’s not being shifty. It’s being smart. Can we normalize changing your mind, especially since the change creates a more just outcome? Harris’s record of progressive legislation speaks for itself, if you care to investigate.

I hate to break this to you, but Kamala Harris is not going to be the perfect fulfilment of your every dream. She’s not going to be everything for everybody. You’ll definitely find that she makes mistakes. That her laugh sometimes does lose the charm and starts to grate. That she’s too foot-draggy on Gaza (the project that’s ended up in her lap after a couple of millennia of randomness rolled the dice for her). That you’ll disagree with some of her policies.

I don’t give a damn. That doesn’t make her incompetent. That doesn’t make her a perpetrator of genocide. That doesn’t make her phony or crazy. You’re wrong on all counts. It’s possible to win this election AND have a deal on Gaza, AND have a detailed economic platform AND tackle climate change.

During her concession speech, after mentioning the Republican plan to appoint a nation-wide anti-abortion co-ordinator, to force states to report women’s miscarriages and abortions and share their medical records with the government, she asked in exasperation, “Why don’t they trust women? We trust women”.

And also: “They are, quite simply, out of their minds”. And she’s not wrong there, either.

If you’re “undecided”, one of those wispy wallflowers who claims no difference between Trump and Harris — a mind-boggling feat of self-imposed ignorance — I have zero time for you. Stop being an idiot, like the woman (or, I suspect, paid troll) I encountered online who made this claim of Harris-Trump equivalence and stated her determination to vote for Jill Stein — remember Jill Stein? Yeah, neither do I — and at least be honest and vote for Trump because that may very well be the result of your “protest vote”. (But just don’t, OK?)

This woman called it voting her conscience, though her conscience is apparently fine with throwing away her precious vote in the most extreme useless gesture I can recall since Abraham, that empty-headed sycophant, agreed to sacrifice Isaac. (I think the Nigerian prince sent him a text, but don’t quote me on that.) As Michelle Obama emphasized: “There simply isn’t the time for that kind of foolishness!”

Your focus has to be on winning this election. It has to be. Because if Harris/Walz don’t win this election, hope—and your rights, including your right to protest— are in the toilet.

Remember women? Well, they’re back in fashion.

Women! It feels like women have been finally elevated to their rightful place, not, as the conservative movement would envision, miscarrying in parking lots, or inflicting their miserable cat-lady lives on the rest of us high-end Kardashian child-breeders (“care for a Meow-Mix finger sandwich?”), but at the front and centre of political power, setting the agenda and leading the discussions. The DNC showcased a Mount Olympus’-worth of Democrat goddesses flawlessly delivering flights of oratory that damn near took the top of my head right off.

Especially, what gives Black women this laser focus, their powerful voices, their innate authority and enthralling narrative skill? I sense it is faith- and community-related, and at least partly a deeply-embedded, embodied and atavistic defense against the horrors of enslavement; the certainty that, break the body how you may, dignity cannot be stolen, only willingly surrendered. White supremacy has been the hellfire in which that fierce dignity was forged.

(And, no, Murgatroyd McGraw, twist my syntax however you dare, I’m not proposing that white supremacy thus had its advantages. Jeezus! I’m crazy, not an asshole. I’m saying the human spirit is more resilient than we can ever comprehend, all right? Are you with me, are we reconciled, are we leading lives of mutual regard?)

Whether or not my instinct is correct: man can these women speak!

Favorite moments:

• Oprah describing how neighbours are the best of America, and slyly adding, “if one of those [houses on fire] happens to belong to a crazy cat lady? Well, we try and get that cat out, too.”
• Oprah: “Choosing common SENSE! Over nonSENSE!!“

Michelle Obama delivered the most electrifying piece of political oratory I’ve heard in my lifetime, and I’m so old there’s a rumor circulating—that I do nothing to dispel—that I reported on Elizabeth I’s speech to the troops at Tilbury.

It’s impossible to convey the intensity and inspirational value of her speech here, you simply have to listen to it. True to the Obama brand, its theme was hope but also hope’s wicked step-sister, despair.

• “…We [ordinary people, not Trump] don’t get to benefit from the affirmative action of generational wealth…”
• Not just a dig at Trump’s head start with a mouth full of silver spoons, this was a double-whammy: a stunning rebuttal to the claim that affirmative action for POC is discriminatory, giving an undeserved, unfair advantage. Generational wealth, she is saying, (and, for that matter, every other privilege that whiteness confers on whites), denied to African Americans after WWII, when they were redlined out of home ownership in the new government-subsidised suburbs, is equally “affirmative action.” Subtle, but slipped in with the dexterity of a hired assassin handling a switchblade.
• On Trump trying to make people fear her and Barack during his Presidency: “His narrow world view can’t deal with two hard-working, highly-educated and successful people who happen to be Black.”
• “I wonder…. who’s going to tell [Trump] that this job he’s applying for just might be one of those Black Jobs...?

Jasmine Crockett:

• “Kamala Harris has a resumé. Trump has a rap sheet.”
• I’m going to hire Jasmine Crockett as my bodyguard and spend endless days and nights walking through dark alleyways. Just because I can.

I could go on and on, but I’d like you guys to have the pleasure of your own discovery. I’ve already forced everyone I know to listen to Michelle and Oprah and Kamala, whipping around in my office chair to see if they’re still paying attention and screaming, “Put down your goddamn cellphone and learn what’s at stake here!”

Which would probably have more effect if I weren’t wearing a black net tank top, no pants, and huge, fluffy slippers from Oxfam that double as animal hand puppets.

So, my American friends: Let joy flow like fountains of holy wine, let it fall like healing rain on your dusty, discouraged souls and bring sweet, sweet hope back to the White House—because you’re gonna get out there and DO SOMETHING—!

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