Monday, March 23, 2020

SARS-CoV-2 and the Rush to Judgment

Why Is the World Being Quarantined, and Is That the Only Option?

by MARK GABRISH CONLAN

Copyright © 2020 by Mark Gabrish Conlan for Zenger’s Newsmagazine • All rights reserved

A note on nomenclature: Throughout this article, the virus causing the current pandemic will be referred to as SARS-CoV-2 (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome Coronavirus-2) and the disease associated with it as COVID-19. This is partly because those are the official designations from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/cases-updates/summary.html?CDC_AA_refVal=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.cdc.gov%2Fcoronavirus%2F2019-ncov%2Fsummary.html) and partly to stress the point that, though almost universally referred to as the “novel coronavirus,” it is “novel” only in the sense that the Apple iPhone 11 is “novel.” It has new features that make it more effective — and therefore more dangerous — than its predecessors, but it’s still an organism human immune systems can recognize and mount some sort of immunological defense against.

“The prospect of domination of the nation’s scholars by Federal employment, project allocations, and the power of money is ever present and is gravely to be regarded. Yet, in holding scientific research and discovery in respect, as we should, we must also be alert to the equal and opposite danger that public policy could itself become the captive of a scientific-technological elite.”
— President Dwight D. Eisenhower, January 17, 1961

The advent of the SARS-CoV-2 virus and the COVID-19 pandemic it is causing has hit the human race like a whirlwind. Less than two months after the World Health Organization (WHO) identified it as a global health threat (though they hung back from calling it a “pandemic” — a worldwide epidemic — for another month after that), nations, states and cities are taking drastic actions to stop it that countries usually don’t take unless they’ve been directly attacked in a war. I started writing this article about a week ago — March 16, 2020 — and already the state of California has taken actions I would have considered unthinkable then.
On Thursday, March 19 California Governor Gavin Newsom essentially declared public life illegal in this state. (Governors in New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and Illinois have since followed suit.) As reporter Taryn Luna wrote in the March 20 Los Angeles Times (https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2020-03-19/gavin-newsom-california-1-billion-federal-aid-coronavirus), “The mandatory order allows Californians to continue to visit gas stations, pharmacies, grocery stores, farmers markets, food banks, convenience stores, takeout and delivery restaurants, banks and laundromats. People can leave their homes to care for a relative or a friend or seek health care services. It exempts workers in 16 federal critical infrastructure sectors, including food and agriculture, health care, transportation, energy, financial services, emergency response and others.”
Other than those exceptions, Californians aren’t allowed to go outside their homes at all. Businesses that don’t fit the above-listed exceptions are supposed to close. Even before the full shutdown, Newsom had ordered all bars to close and all restaurants to limit themselves to to-go orders only. Ironically, liquor stores and marijuana dispensaries have both been declared “essential businesses” that are allowed to stay open. Someone in Newsom’s administration seemed to realize that if you’re going to tell people they have to stay indoors, one way to reconcile them to that is at least let them get drunk or high.
Exactly what this is supposed to accomplish is not clear. We’re being told it’s to stop transmission of SARS-CoV-2, but it’s an open question just how much even the most restrictive and well-enforced mass quarantine can do. The best health officials seem to think they can do is what they call “flattening the curve,” meaning reducing the numbers of new cases of COVID-19 disease to a level the current health care system can handle without being overwhelmed. Even this is going to be difficult, especially since this is one of those viruses that can be transmitted from someone who has the infection but is not showing any symptoms. (This is also true of flu viruses and the rhinovirus that causes the common cold, so it’s not that odd or unusual.)
Once it was established that asymptomatic carriers could transmit SARS-CoV-2, University of Minnesota director of epidemic research and policy Dr. Michael Osterholm told CNN March 17 that trying to stop that sort of transmission “is like trying to stop the wind. … Honestly, this kind of transmission, we’re never going to stop it. What we best are able to do is slow it down.”
A front-page headline in the March 18 Los Angeles Times (https://www.latimes.com/politics/story/2020-03-18/coronavirus-poses-dreadful-choice-for-global-leaders-wreck-your-economy-or-lose-millions-of-lives) summed up the choice for political and social leaders in the starkest terms imaginable: “Coronavirus poses dreadful choice for global leaders: Wreck your economy or lose millions of lives.”
“While some initially hesitated, leaders and legislators in the United States and worldwide increasingly have decided they have to accept the severe economic pain,” reporter David Lauter wrote. “U.S. officials know the worst-case scenarios could be extremely bad. The White House has based some of its new plans on a research model developed by doctors and scientists at Imperial College in London that suggests the [SARS-CoV-2] coronavirus epidemic in the United States could kill at least 2.2 million Americans over the next few months if left uncontrolled.”
That Imperial College report, available at https://www.imperial.ac.uk/media/imperial-college/medicine/sph/ide/gida-fellowships/Imperial-College-COVID19-NPI-modelling-16-03-2020.pdf, differentiates between two strategies against the virus: “mitigation,” which as the report states “focuses on slowing but not necessarily stopping epidemic spread — reducing peak health care demand while protecting those most at risk of severe disease from infection”; and “suppression,” whose aim is “to reverse epidemic growth, reducing case numbers to low levels and maintaining that situation indefinitely.” In the last week some state governments in the U.S. and national governments in other countries moved decisively from mitigation to suppression — even though, if Dr. Osterholm is right, suppression may not even be possible.
“In the U.K. and U.S. context, suppression will minimally require a combination of social distancing of the entire population” — i.e., keeping people at least six feet apart from each other at all times — “home isolation of cases and household quarantine of their family members,” the Imperial College report states. “This may need to be supplemented by school and university closures, though it should be recognized that such closures may have negative impacts on health systems due to increased absenteeism.
“The major challenge of suppression is that this type of intensive intervention package — or something equivalently effective at reducing transmission — will need to be maintained until a vaccine becomes available (potentially 18 months or more) — given that we predict that transmission will quickly rebound if interventions are relaxed. … [W]hile experience in China and now South Korea show that suppression is possible in the short term, it remains to be seen whether it is possible long-term, and whether the social and economic costs of the interventions adopted thus far can be reduced.”

How Long, O Lord, How Long?

The implementation of suppression in California has meant the closure of virtually all schools, from grade schools to universities. It has meant the shut-down of all businesses that aren’t on that “essential” list — and an explosion in claims for unemployment compensation. Nationally, it has led to millions of people suddenly finding themselves without jobs — and without income — in a society that has historically been unforgiving of people who can’t “earn their own way” in the economy, and very parsimonious and grudging when it comes to offering a social safety net. Indeed, SARS-CoV-2 hit when the U.S. Presidency and Senate are controlled by Republicans committed to a Libertarian agenda that calls for the ultimate end of all social safety-net programs.
Indeed, that’s one of the reasons we’re in this pickle in the first place. The Trump administration has sent budget after budget to Congress calling for drastic cuts in public assistance of all types. They want to make it harder for poor Americans to get health care, food stamps, housing subsidies and any other spending of public money to help them. Some of Trump’s public press events about SARS-CoV-2 have featured Seema Verma, Trump’s appointee to run Medicare and Medicaid — and when he hired her, he specifically told her to cut as many people as possible from access to those programs, Medicaid in particular, without starting a political backlash. Trump also wants a cut in the federal payroll tax that supports Social Security — helping people in the short run, maybe, but speeding up the economic collapse of Social Security Republicans have been warning about for generations and using as an argument for eliminating it altogether.
SARS-CoV-2 has at least temporarily interrupted the broad-based, ideologically driven Republican attack on the social safety net. Instead, it’s led to a debate in Congress over what the federal government can do to repay people for at least some of their economic losses. President Trump and Congressional Republicans want to give that aid to giant corporations, particularly airlines, hotel chains and cruise-ship companies, especially hard-hit by the collapse of the travel market in the face of SARS-CoV-2. Democrats want some sort of direct aid to individuals. Trump has floated the idea of a single $1,000 to $1,200 tax rebate to everyone in the U.S. — much like the $600 rebate the Republican Congress and President George W. Bush gave out in 2001 as part of a tax-cut bill that undid the Clinton administration’s success in actually balancing the federal budget in 1999 and 2000.
The Imperial College report’s authors (all 31 of them, which is why they aren’t named individually here) admit that “we do not consider the ethical or economic implications of either strategy here, except to note that there is no easy policy decision to be made. Suppression … carries with it enormous social and economic costs which may themselves have significant impact on health and well-being in the short and longer-term. Mitigation will never be able to completely protect those at risk from severe disease or death, and the resulting mortality may still be high.”
Much of the uncertainty surrounding the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic comes because nobody really knows just how long the interventions will need to be sustained. So far, most individuals have been willing to live with the restrictions, mainly because they’ve been presented as something we have to do to get through the crisis. ““[U]ltimately, it’s an easy choice,” Jason Furman, who chaired the Council of Economic Advisers for President Obama and currently teaches at Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government, told Los Angeles Times reporter David Lauter. “There’s no time to do careful cost-benefit analysis” of whether a particular restriction might cause more damage than it prevents.”
Instead, government officials have to “follow a simple rule,” Furman told Lauter. “Anything the health people want to do to save lives they should do,” then “the economic people can do what they can to mitigate the damage.”

Do We Really Have to Do All This?

The changes we are being asked to make as a society go far beyond individuals’ daily lives — as horrible as those are. The term “social distancing” means that we are expected to stay six feet apart from each other all the time, especially when we go outside the home. We’ve seen the rapid shutdown of one mass public event after another, from the Coachella and SWSX music festivals to the entire National Basketball Association (NBA) and the National Collegiate Athletic Association’s (NCAA) “Final Four” basketball tournament. We’ve seen Major League Baseball, which continued in the U.S. through two world wars, delay the opening of its season at least until July. We’ve seen all Broadway theatres go dark, though some live-theatre venues are trying to sustain themselves by staging their performances to empty halls and broadcasting to audiences in real time through online video streaming.
• The wholesale closure of restaurants, bars and other social venues, not to mention the shuttering of sports leagues and movie theatres as well as delays in film production and release caused by the virus;
• The loss of an entire education system, from grade school to college, as school after school closes down or goes to “online learning” in the face of the viral panic;
• The strain on grocery stores as panicky customers buy basic items like toilet paper in massive quantities, fearing there won’t be any more available for months;
• The massive unemployment rates as millions, perhaps billions, of people worldwide are turned out of their jobs;
• And the horrific disruptions in the elaborate global chains of production and distribution of everything — including food supplies as well as medicines and virtually every product we use —
— all threaten to sink the world’s economies into not just a recession but a major depression, comparable to the 1930’s, lasting years. They also threaten to turn our children of all ages into a “lost generation” of under-educated adults just as other social changes are increasing the need for ever-higher levels of education.
The potentially catastrophic effects of the shutdowns of whole sectors of the economy for months or even years, and the even more catastrophic psychological effects on people forced to live for months or even years with the ever-present sense of danger, would seem to call for a careful weighing of how to act and whether some of the proposed “cures” for stopping the COVID-19 pandemic are worse than the disease itself. Instead we’re getting both the bad ways society as a whole, or its leaders, can react to a new disease: denial and panic.
Denial is usually the first stage; the failure to act quickly when the disease is still relatively easy to contain leads to a widespread increase in both the number of cases and the level of fear among national leaders and their populations. Then the panic sets in: hysteria grips the body politic and public health officials institute “containment” measures that become more and more draconian as their ability to contain a virus, bacterium or other disease-causing factor becomes less and less possible.

The Backlash Begins

Indeed, sometimes public response to an epidemic becomes cyclical, bouncing around between denial and panic without ever settling into that “sweet spot” of reasoned concern. Reasoned concern over SARS-CoV-2 would mean taking actions to stop, or at least slow down, viral transmission without going overboard. It would mean accepting a rising rate of infections and death while trying to minimize that as much as possible. It would mean giving a SARS-CoV-2 test to anyone who wants one while also acknowledging the limits of the test (as discussed below), particularly the fact that neither of the two existing tests (the throat swab and the blood draw) actually detects live, infectious SARS-CoV-2 in the body.
The far-reaching quarantine/isolation/lockdown measures being pushed by public health officials and adopted through much of Europe as well as in California, New York and other U.S. states are already sparking acts of defiance. Over the March 21-22 weekend so many people in San Diego flocked to the city’s parks and beaches — and came a good deal closer to each other than the six-foot “social distancing” mandated by the guidelines — that on March 23 San Diego Mayor Kevin Faulconer ordered them all closed.
The March 23 Los Angeles Times reported that certain bars in Southern California, New Orleans and Boston are remaining open despite orders from state and local governments to close under the quarantine. The local bar the Times was reporting on, the Griffins of Kinsale Irish pub on Mission Street in South Pasadena (https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2020-03-23/businesses-open-coronavirus-shutdown-orders-quarantine-shaming), hosted its traditional party on St. Patrick’s Day, March 17, despite Governor Newsom’s statewide order that all bars close.
Times reporter Andrew J. Campa interviewed the pub’s owner, Joseph Griffin, and reported that Griffin had said he’d told his customers not to eat food on the premises and make all their orders take-out. But not only did some customers eat on site, Griffin hosted a live band. Angry residents posted what Campa called “shaming” messages on social media and eventually tipped off the South Pasadena Police Department. At 7 p.m. — after giving Griffin two warnings — the police ordered Griffin to shut down. “The way attitudes have changed just in the last couple of days has been amazing,” Griffin told Campa. “I was open Saturday and Sunday and nobody said anything. Nobody said anything on Monday. Then Tuesday rolls around, and all of a sudden I’m this horrible person.”
The South Pasadena bar owner isn’t the only one chafing at the restrictions imposed by state and local governments at the behest of public health officials in an attempt to stop the spread of SARS-CoV-2. Campa’s article also cited a CBS Evening News segment on spring-break partiers in Miami Beach getting drunk, hanging out on beaches and laying out considerably closer than the six-foot “social distance” mandated by the guidelines. One participant put up a tweet that drew 900,000 hits and quite a number of comments critiquing it as “selfish” and “stupid.” “If I get corona, I get corona,” the tweet said. “At the end of the day, I’m not going to let it stop me from partying,”
Resistance to the anti-SARS-CoV-2 measures is growing among politicians, media people and commentators too, especially those on the Right end of the political spectrum. A March 19 op-ed from John P. A. Ioannidis, professor of medicine, epidemiology and population health at Stanford Woods Institute for the Environment (https://www.statnews.com/2020/03/17/a-fiasco-in-the-making-as-the-coronavirus-pandemic-takes-hold-we-are-making-decisions-without-reliable-data/), questioned not only the science behind the dire estimates of COVID-19 disease and death rates in reports like the Imperial College study but also the assumption that stopping (suppression) or slowing down (mitigation) the spread of SARS-CoV-2 is so important harsh measures are necessary whatever their short- or long-term economic impact.
“[W]e don’t know how long social distancing measures and lockdowns can be maintained without major consequences to the economy, society, and mental health,” Ioannidis wrote. “Unpredictable evolutions may ensue, including financial crisis, unrest, civil strife, war, and a meltdown of the social fabric. At a minimum, we need unbiased prevalence and incidence data for the evolving infectious load to guide decision-making.”
Ioannidis’ article apparently made an impression on President Donald Trump, who announced on March 23 that he’s considering easing the restrictions announced by the federal government last week. “At some point, we’re going to open up our country, and it’s going to be fairly soon,” Trump told a White House press conference. “I’m not looking at months, I can tell you right now. … If it were up to the doctors, they may say, ‘Let’s keep it shut down for a couple of years. Let’s shut down the entire world.’ And you can’t do that with a country, especially with the number one economy anywhere in the world, by far.”
Trump’s press conference was reported by Noah Bierman, Chris Megerian and Eli Stokols in the March 23 Los Angeles Times (https://www.latimes.com/politics/story/2020-03-23/the-war-against-coronavirus-becomes-a-battle-for-trumps-ear#nt=1col-7030col1-main). They also got comments critical of Trump’s attitude, including one from Jeffrey Levi, public health expert at George Washington University in Washington, D.C. “The worst thing for the economy would be to go back to work and see an upsurge in cases again,” Levi told the Times. “That’s the balancing act that policymakers need to perform.”
David Lauter’s March 18 Los Angeles Times article on the trade-off between public-health measures to control SARS-CoV-2 transmission and their potentially devastating economic impacts (https://www.latimes.com/politics/story/2020-03-18/coronavirus-poses-dreadful-choice-for-global-leaders-wreck-your-economy-or-lose-millions-of-lives) dropped a hint of an alternative strategy that commentators on Right-wing Web sites have started to run with.
“Public health officials expect the virus will spread until about 80% of all Americans have caught it or until a vaccine comes on line, whichever comes first,” Lauter wrote. “At that point, enough people will be immune — what doctors refer to as herd immunity — that the spread will stop.” Though Lauter stated that the estimates of how long it will take for either a vaccine or an 80 percent infection rate are 18 months to two years, some Right-wing commentators have suggested we should stop trying to control the infection rate. Instead, they argue, we should allow the virus to run its course, and accept that quite a few people are going to die along the way, until it infects 80 percent of the population and “herd immunity” is achieved.
Douglas MacKinnon made this case in a March 22 post on the FreeRepublic.com Web site (though I accessed it at https://townhall.com/columnists/douglasmackinnon/2020/03/22/should-america-vote-on-letting-covid19-run-its-course-n2565441?utm_source=thdaily&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=nl&newsletterad=03/22/2020&bcid=7211a88f055bd17bdb282abe13bcaec5&recip=26438269). Like Ioannidis, he argued that the estimates that 2.4 to 3.4 percent of all people who contract SARS-CoV-2 will die from it are inflated and based on poor-quality data.
“As I write this, the total number of cases of the COVID-19 is still a minute fraction of the Swine flu pandemic which hit our nation and the world in 2009 and 2010,” MacKinnon wrote. “Back then, when it ran its course, the Swine flu was in 70 countries, infected approximately 1.5 billion people, and killed anywhere between 300,000 to 700,000. Here in the United States, over 60 million were infected, approximately 300,000 hospitalized, and upwards of 18,000 Americans lost their lives. And yet, life went on as normal.”
MacKinnon argues that it should be the American people, in a national referendum, who decide whether or not to follow the draconian recommendations of the public health officials to mitigate or suppress SARS-CoV-2 transmission. “More and more Americans are articulating the fear that shutting down our nation, destroying millions of jobs, and wiping out billions in life savings is exponentially worse than letting the virus run its course,” he wrote. “Without the immediate introduction of a vaccine to protect us from the COVID-19, does the strategy of ‘Herd Immunity’ make the most sense? That being to let the virus run its course with the proven theory being that once enough people have been exposed, they will develop antibodies and create a natural ‘herd’ immunity that dramatically reduces the threat of the virus.”
Texas Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick made a blunter and nastier argument along the same lines as MacKinnon’s in a March 23 interview with Tucker Carlson of Fox News (https://www.mediaite.com/tv/texas-lt-gov-says-we-cant-sacrifice-the-country-to-combat-coronavirus-older-people-like-me-will-take-care-of-ourselves/). Pointing out that he himself is an older person with other chronic health condtions — and therefore part of the group most at risk for disease and death from COVID-19 — Patrick told Carlson, ““I’m not living in fear of COVID-19, I’m living in fear of what’s happening to this country.”
Patrick added, “No one reached out to me and said as a senior citizen, are you willing to take a chance on your survival in exchange for keeping the America that all America loves for your children and grandchildren? And if that’s the exchange, I’m all in. … Let’s get back to work, let’s get back to living, let’s be smart about it, and those of us who are 70-plus, we’ll take care of ourselves but don’t sacrifice the country. Don’t do that. … [If] this goes on another several months, there won’t be any jobs to come back to for many people.”

Assumptions Behind the Crackdowns

Many of the courses of action we have been essentially ordered to take have been based on assumptions that are either unspoken, untested or untrue. Among them:

The virus is “novel.” That’s true only to the limited extent that its particular combination of nucleic acids and proteins hasn’t been seen before. But it isn’t really new: as the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) acknowledges on its Web site, it’s really just a mutant version of an older virus, SARS-CoV. As the CDC Web site explains:

Coronaviruses are a large family of viruses that are common in people and many different species of animals, including camels, cattle, cats, and bats. Rarely, animal coronaviruses can infect people and then spread between people such as with MERS-CoV, SARS-CoV, and now with this new virus (named SARS-CoV-2).

The SARS-CoV-2 virus is a betacoronavirus, like MERS-CoV and SARS-CoV. All three of these viruses have their origins in bats. The sequences from U.S. patients are similar to the one that China initially posted, suggesting a likely single, recent emergence of this virus from an animal reservoir.

Remember SARS (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome), the disease caused by the first SARS-CoV virus? Almost nobody else does, either, but in 2003 it was considered as much of a potential heavy-duty threat to human existence as COVID-19 is today. But it didn’t engender the kind of worldwide panic we’ve seen over its successor. Instead, it was quietly contained after about 8,000 reported cases and 800 deaths.
SARS CoV-2 has already claimed quite a bit more than that — 378,848 cases, 16,514 deaths and 102,069 recoveries worldwide as of March 23, according to https://www.worldometers.info/coronavirus/, including 15,209 cases and 201 deaths in the U.S. as of March 20 (https://www.statista.com/statistics/1101932/coronavirus-covid19-cases-and-deaths-number-us-americans/e). But if we were able to contain the original SARS-CoV without draconian measures like quarantines and mass business closures, why can’t we do that with its successor?
One possible answer from the Canadian National Post Web site, https://nationalpost.com/news/world/new-study-suggests-coronavirus-can-live-in-patients-for-five-weeks-after-contagion, cites a new study from China that suggests the virus can live inside the body’s respiratory tract for 37 days after exposure, whereas the original SARS-CoV didn’t survive for longer than four weeks. That study also suggests that SARS-CoV-2 is “likely more highly transmissible but not as deadly” as the earlier SARS-Co-V or related MERS-Co-V viruses.
Just as the Zika pandemic threat seemed less serious when it was revealed that the organism was transmitted by mosquitoes — a threat we have experience dealing with — the revelation that the feared “coronavirus pandemic” is caused by a mutant version of a virus we already know about should make it less fearful. And if that Chinese study is correct that SARS-CoV-2 is easier to transmit but not as lethal as SARS-CoV, that says it’s following the usual evolution of viruses.
The horrific 1918-1919 “Spanish” flu pandemic — the closest we’ve actually experienced to what the scientists are predicting for SARS-CoV-2 — ended not because humans got particularly good at fighting it. The pandemic ended a year after World War I did — thereby taking away its most effective transmission vector — and evolution favored those strains of flu virus that didn’t kill their hosts because they could find new hosts more easily and quickly than the lethal strains.

The virus is almost uniformly fatal. No, it isn’t. Estimates so far of how many people infected with SARS-CoV-2 will die from COVID-19 disease are between 2 to 4 percent. The World Health Organization came up with a 3.4 percent death-rate estimate (https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/03/07/upshot/how-deadly-is-coronavirus-what-we-know.html), while China’s Center for Disease Control and Prevention reported a study of 72,000 COVID-19 patients that produced a death rate of 2.3 percent (http://www.cidrap.umn.edu/news-perspective/2020/02/study-72000-covid-19-patients-finds-23-death-rate). That means 96 to 98 percent of all people infected with this virus will survive it. I’ve seen a report that 15 percent of all people exposed to SARS-CoV-2 will get “serious illnesses” from it — but that also means 85 percent won’t.
All the studies conducted on the rates of death or serious illness from SARS-CoV-2 infection indicate that the people at greatest risk of dying or getting seriously ill from it are older (over 65) people or others with chronic health conditions like diabetes, heart disease and lung disease (the ones the CDC mentions on its Web site) or compromised immune systems. However, after I wrote that in the first draft of this article I learned that younger, healthier people are not only encountering SARS-CoV-2 but getting seriously ill. One person I’ve known for years and consider a friend is now in an intensive care unit. He’s in his early 30’s and, as far as I knew, was in good health until he got COVID-19. Nothing focuses your attention more on a new disease than personally knowing someone who has it.

The Testing Quandary

Mass testing is necessary. “Lack of widespread testing makes everyone, including the asymptomatic, a threat; the only way to reduce exposure is through total distancing,” wrote American Prospect contributor David Dayen in the March 16 edition of his daily COVID-19 e-mail. “And at the root, these cities and states mean to preserve the local health systems, which will verge on collapse under the current trajectory.”
Certainly, the public fear of COVID-19 will go down as more people get tested. In fact, one optimistic scenario would be that as more tests are given, the percentage of people reported as being infected with SARS-CoV-2 will go up — and the estimated toll of the virus in terms of death or serious illness will go down. If that happens, the fear level associated with this virus will also go down — and maybe, just maybe, that will hasten the day when life on earth, especially in the largest cities of the most advanced countries, can return to normal.
But the whole question of SARS-CoV-2 testing is intimately bound up with what the tests actually measure. According to a March 8 post on the LiveScience Web site (https://www.livescience.com/how-coronavirus-tests-work.html), neither the currently existing tests — the ones they give you by sticking a sterile swab down your throat and then bagging the results and sending them to a lab — nor the “serology” (i.e., blood-based) tests currently under development actually test for live, infectious SARS-CoV-2.
As Laura Geggel explains in the above-cited LiveScience article, “If you’re in the United States, chances are a health care worker will use a long Q-tip to swab the back of your throat and then send that sample off for testing. If you’re in a country that has developed an antibody test, such as China, you may get blood drawn. What happens next to these samples is very different. The throat swab is well suited for polymerase chain reaction testing, also known as PCR, while the blood sample will be mined for antibodies specific to the new disease, known as COVID-19.”
The reason for that, Geggel writes, is time. The current tests take a few days to produce results — and the test manufacturers are working to shave that down to a few hours or less — while the more elaborate process of actually culturing the virus out of the blood of an infected person can take weeks. But the limitations of both antibody and PCR tests are bound up with yet another controversy: the sweeping changes (and, I would argue, perversions) of the basic rules of virology ever since April 23, 1984, the day the so-called “Human Immunodeficiency Virus,” or HIV, was politically proclaimed to be the “probable cause” of AIDS.
As the syndrome first identified in Gay men in 1981 got its name changed from “GRID” (“Gay-Related Immune Deficiency”) to AIDS (“Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome”) to “HIV/AIDS” to “HIV Disease” and now just “HIV,” testing “HIV positive” was presented first as an infallible harbinger that you would get the disease, and now a positive test is considered the disease itself. This is ass-backwards virology. Historically, having an antibody response to a virus — which is what the standard so-called “HIV tests” measure — did not mean you would get the disease associated with that virus, but quite the opposite.
Through most of the history of virology, having antibodies to a virus meant you were immune. Antibodies are created by the immune system, and their very existence usually means you will not get the disease that virus causes. Indeed, the whole purpose of vaccination is to give you something similar to the virus you’re vaccinating against, but weaker, so your immune system will develop antibodies that will protect you.
There are well-established partial exceptions to the rule that antibodies mean immunity. Certain viruses, such as hepatitis or herpes, produce antibodies that are able to neutralize the virus but not to clear it from your system completely. That means that as age or stress weakens the immune system, those diseases can become symptomatic again. The commercials for shingles vaccines say, “If you had chickenpox, the shingles virus is already inside you” — and that’s true because they’re the same virus (a herpes-class virus, by the way) . But never — until HIV was proclaimed as the cause of AIDS — did medical science ever say that a positive test for viral antibodies meant you would get the disease associated wth that virus and would, without treatment, inevitably die from it.
The reason this is relevant to COVID-19 is that the technologies being used to test for SARS-CoV-2 are virtually identical to those used for HIV. The blood tests (which are available in some countries but not yet in the U.S.) test for antibodies to SARS-CoV-2, not the virus itself — and historically, except for HIV antibody tests, doctors and scientists have regarded an antibody response as evidence that you were exposed to the virus but your immune system figured out how to deal with it, so you are immune. The throat swabs are based on PCR, which measures pieces of the virus in your system rather than the virus itself. They do not prove that you have live, infectious virus inside you!
Certainly it’s important to make more tests for SARS-CoV-2 available, despite their limitations. For one thing, they’re needed to get accurate information on how many people exposed to the virus get infected, how many infected people get sick, and how many sick people die. For another thing, the tests are important psychologically. In terms of the mental health of the people taking them, the current test regime — in which SARS-CoV-2 tests may be administered only after doctors have ruled out common flus or any other viruses that may be making that patient sick — is ass-backwards. It would seem to make more sense if doctors could give the SARS-CoV-2 test first, and then if it’s negative they could send the patient home with the reassuring words, “It’s not COVID-19. It’s just the flu. Stay home, rest and don’t panic.”

A Personal Note

I come to the SARS-CoV-2 controversy with, to say the least, a very jaundiced view of medical “experts” and their recommendations for social policy — especially when they deliver them in apocalyptic language that demand we as a society do whatever they say, or else. I got that attitude largely through my experience of the AIDS epidemic, which “broke” in the early 1980’s just as I was first coming out as a Gay man and realizing that the “Gay lifestyle” I would be entering was going to be quite different from the one I’d been led to expect by knowing other Gay people and reading about the Gay male community as it stood when AIDS hit.
When I first started reading and hearing about AIDS in 1982 I was immediately convinced that “Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome,” which is what the initials stood for, was just that: a syndrome, a multiplicity of diseases that occurred in people. I was convinced from the get-go that, like pneumonia, AIDS had to have multiple causes. The symptoms various patients reported, their clinical histories and their life expectancies after diagnosis — some died within a few days, others lasted for months — were too different for the syndrome to have a single cause.
Alas, the people the federal government — and particularly Margaret Heckler, secretary of health and human services under Ronald Reagan in the early 1980’s — made the exact opposite assumption. On April 23, 1984 she held a joint press conference with virologist Robert Gallo in which they announced that “the probable cause of AIDS has been found.” Their “probable cause” was a virus Gallo claimed he had discovered — though later evidence showed he had stolen it from a sample sent him by French virologist Luc Montagnier — and it later turned out both Montagnier and Gallo had taken credit for research actually done by their lab assistants (Françoise Barre-Sinoussi in Montagnier’s case and Milo Popovic in Gallo’s).
Gallo called the virus Human T-Cell Lymphotrophic Virus III (HTLV-III), and he and Heckler claimed it was “a variant of a known cancer virus” — one Gallo had announced called Human T-Cell Lymphotrophic Virus I, which it turned out did not cause cancer. Montagnier called it “Lymphodenopathy-Associated Virus” (LAV), and the governments of the U.S. and France eventually had to negotiate a settlement between the contending researchers. Among its terms was that the French and American teams would split the royalties from the tests for antibodies to the virus, and the virus itself was given a new name: Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV).
Though Heckler had called HIV only the “probable cause” of AIDS in her press conference, from then on the U.S. and most other countries refused to fund any research on AIDS that did not assume HIV was its one and only cause. Dr. Anthony Fauci, who assumed the chair of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID) in 1984 — and, amazingly, still holds that job — explained why in an April 4, 1994 episode of the ABC-TV news show Nightline. “There has been an extensive effort, looking not only at HIV but earlier on, when we were trying to find out what the underlying microbe was that was causing AIDS, that in fact there was no evidence at all that there’s anything but that.”
What struck me about Fauci’s statement, then and now, is that from the get-go the government’s anti-AIDS response was based on the assumption that there was one “underlying microbe” responsible for the myriad symptoms, epidemiologies and case histories of AIDS. That never made sense to me, and beginning in 1987 — when UC Berkeley virologist Peter Duesberg published a paper in the journal Cancer Research arguing that retroviruses like HIV could never cause cancer, AIDS or any other human disease — I finally encountered credentialed scientists who agreed with me.
I became an activist in the movement challenging the conventional wisdom that HIV caused AIDS. I co-founded a local organization in San Diego, the Association to Re-Evaluate AIDS (ATRA), and later affiliated it with a national network of AIDS-reappraising groups based in New York called H.E.A.L. (Health, Education, AIDS Liaison). H.E.A.L.-San Diego continued regular meetings from 1994 to 2012, and during that time I also published a local Queer-community paper, Zenger’s Newsmagazine. Though Zenger’s was never specifically an AIDS-reappraisal journal, I made a point of covering AIDS from a reappraisal point of view and interviewing Duesberg, David Rasnick, Stefan Lanka, Charles Geshekter, Rebecca Culshaw and other scientists challenging the HIV/AIDS model.
Among the logical inconsistencies in that model that caused me to reject it were its extensive redefinitions of virology. The scientists who argued that HIV did cause AIDS fundamentally redefined virology and epidemiology to keep HIV at the center of the AIDS universe. As I explained above, until HIV was politically proclaimed as the cause of AIDS, a positive antibody response to a virus meant you had been exposed to the virus but your immune system had successfully fought it off and therefore you were immune to it. There are partial exceptions to this, but only with HIV and AIDS is a positive antibody response to a virus considered not only infallible evidence that you will get the disease associated with that virus but, more recently, the positive antibody test is the disease.
The reason all this history is relevant to SARS-CoV-2 is that the top scientists in charge of the federal government’s response to it, Anthony Fauci and Deborah Birx, came from the “HIV/AIDS” world and made their scientific, bureaucratic and political “bones” with it. When I heard the hosts on MS-NBC speak of Fauci as if he were some sort of virological and epidemiological oracle whose word should not be questioned and whose recommendations should be obeyed without question, I wanted to puke. As far as I’m concerned, the man who so totally screwed up America’s response to AIDS should never be allowed to work again, much less be put in charge of the fight against SARS-CoV-2, a genuinely infectious disease.
My heart sank further when I started reading information on what the so-called “coronavirus tests” actually measure. The HIV antibody tests were based on two wildly unselective technologies, the ELISA (Enzyme-Linked Immunosorbent Assay) and the Western Blot, which produced so many false-positives that alternative AIDS activist Christine Johnson assembled a list of 63 potential causes for a positive “HIV test,” including such common infections as hepatitis, herpes, malaria and flu.
So you can imagine my shock when I read a February 28 report from Johns Hopkins University’s Center for Health Security (http://www.centerforhealthsecurity.org/resources/COVID-19/200228-Serology-testing-COVID.pdf) that said the technologies being used to develop a blood test for SARS-CoV-2 were, you guessed it, the ELISA and Western Blot, which are not only wildly inaccurate but, even when they’re right, measure only an antibody response to the virus, not the virus itself. Indeed, another report from Johns Hopkins on March 13 (https://www.jhsph.edu/news/news-releases/2020/infectious-disease-experts-recommend-using-antibodies-from-covid-19-survivors-as-stopgap-measure.html) argues for using SARS-CoV-2 antibodies isolated from living patients as at least a stopgap treatment for COVID-19!
I’ve taken a long time writing this article, and my attitude towards the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic and the measures being pushed to control it have shifted back and forth like the pendulum on an old-style clock. On the one hand, COVID-19 is consistent with other viral diseases — the symptoms are basically the same from patient to patient and the epidemiology makes sense. On the other hand, I fear that the draconian measures being taken against it — including the shutdown of whole sectors of the economy — may do more harm, long-term, than good.
At the same time, as a health-care worker myself (an in-home caregiver for four clients, all of whom are senior citizens with underlying health conditions and therefore prime targets for this virus and the disease it causes) I’m trying to abide by the restrictions as much as I can. I’m still going to work and maintaining a surprisingly normal life — especially by the standards of most of my friends, who have been furloughed and told to stay at home until such time (weeks, months or maybe years) as the public-health experts tell us we have to.
My husband Charles, a grocery-store checker, is also considered part of an “essential industry” and thus still has a job. In fact, tonight Charles showed me what amounts to an internal passport, like the infamous “yellow tickets” that controlled mobility in both Czarist Russia and the Soviet Union, where you weren’t allowed to travel from one part of the country to another without showing your papers to prove you had a government-recognized right to do so. Charles’ “yellow ticket” is a piece of paper from his employer and his union he can show if anyone questions his right to be on the streets or on the buses, saying that as part of an “essential industry” he’s not restricted by Governor Newsom’s emergency order like most Californians are.
In a future article for this blog I intend to explore the long-term effects — political, economic, cultural, social and, above all, psychological — of the SARS-CoV-2 quarantines. I’ll just state here that in a society already trending towards too much social isolation, too much separation between individuals and also between social groups, and too much reliance on electronic communications, particularly the Internet, to substitute for real face-to-face interactions, the SARS-CoV-2 emergency and the official response to it are speeding up already worrisome trends and adding to the growing social alienation between people in ways that may be as destructive to people’s mental health as the virus itself is to their physical health.
I’ll leave you with one memory — again — I have from the early days of AIDS. I remember reading in the New York Native and other Queer papers that in the early 1980’s Gay men were still meeting each other and going home together for casual sex, but when they did that they often had the thought, “Is this the one that is going to kill me?”  Now we’re being told to have that same fear of people with whom we interact far less intimately than having sex. We’re being told to eye the stranger who gets too close to you on the street, or inside one of the few businesses that are still open, and — especially if he coughs, sneezes or even breathes in your direction — think, “Is this the one that is going to kill me?”

Tuesday, March 03, 2020

Harold Meyerson on the Geezer-ocracy

I just received this e-mail from political commentator Harold Meyerson, a man I met in the San Francisco Bay Area in the late 1970's when we were both young political activists and wanna-be journalists. He noted that with the withdrawals of Amy Klobuchar and Pete Buttigieg, ALL the remaining major-party Presidential candidates are over 70 years old.

I was born in 1953, and when Barack Obama (born in 1961) was elected President I thought that was going to be a significant age marker for me: the first time the President of the United States was someone younger than I. Now it's beginning to look like Obama may be the ONLY President younger than I who will serve in my lifetime. That makes me sad, especially for the potential talents members of the younger generations may have to offer and the voices that won't be heard as people my age or older clog the political system and cling to power until everyone in my generation croaks.

But of all the Presidential candidates in the field at the moment, the one I'm most afraid of in terms of his age is Joe Biden. Bernie Sanders, Michael Bloomberg and even Donald Trump have aged without any apparent ill effects to their mental acuity. (Everything awful and apparently crazy we know about the current-day Donald Trump was readily apparent to people who knew him 20, 30 or 40 years ago.) In putting their bizarrely misplaced faith in Joe Biden, the Democratic Party establishment and all too many Democratic voters are locking themselves into the candidacy of a man who is simply not up to the mental strain of the job and who four years from now may not even be capable of functioning, much less governing.

If the Democrats nominate Joe Biden -- if the party elites rig the process for him the way they did for the equally unelectable (but for different reasons) Hillary Clinton in 2016 -- they will present American voters a choice between two crazies: a narcissistic egomaniac and a dementia patient. — Mark Gabrish Conlan


MARCH 3, 2020
Meyerson on TAP
The Septuagenarian Sweepstakes. Yesterday, I turned 70.
Aging, of course, is both anticipatable and nonetheless surprising. Seventy? How the hell can I be 70?

Even more surprising, however, is this: With Amy Klobuchar’s withdrawal from the presidential contest yesterday, exquisitely timed to my birthday, I enter my eighth decade still younger than any of the serious candidates for president who remain in the running. Bernie Sanders and Mike Bloomberg are both 78. Joe Biden is 77. Spring chicken Elizabeth Warren is 70 (she’s about half a year older than I). Donald Trump is 73.

This is a field that lends itself to age-specific critiques. Some Biden backers point out that Bernie is a heart attack survivor (and presumably, a heart attack risk), while some Bernie backers note that Biden doesn’t seem as sharp as he once was (however sharp that may have been). Many assert that Trump is a dangerous lunatic, though most believe that’s not a function of his age.

Never before in our history has the nation been confronted with a choice of leaders all of whom were 70 or more. In the 19th century, people didn’t live that long, but it wasn’t until 1960—Eisenhower’s last year in office—that a president reached the big seven-o, and that was when Ike was outward bound. The only incoming president who’d surpassed the 70 threshold before he moved into the White House was Reagan, but years of Hollywood makeup had made him look younger, shinier, and better coiffed, and he’d had to fend off rival candidates all of whom were a good deal younger, if not so well coiffed.


In all my now 70 years, it never once occurred to me that by the time I would age out of my sixties, I’d still be younger than an entire presidential field. Should this make me feel better as an individual? (The possibilities before me are still limitless!) Or worse as a citizen? (Prepare for Geezer-ocracy!) Years of experience tell me to bet on Geezer-ocracy. ~ HAROLD MEYERSON

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

I Voted for Bernie Sanders

by MARK GABRISH CONLAN

Copyright © 2020 by Mark Gabrish Conlan for Zenger’s Newsmagazine • All rights reserved

California’s Presidential primary election is officially scheduled for March 3, 2020, but I’ve already voted. And it won’t particularly surprise anyone who knows my husband Charles and I that we both voted for Bernie Sanders.
I turned in mail-in ballots for both of us on the early evening of February 26, 2020 at the Mission Valley Public Library on my way to a grocery run at Costco. But Charles and I had filled them out the night before at home, after watching that train-wreck of a Democratic Presidential candidates’ debate in Charleston, South Carolina. As I joked to one of my home-care clients, a retired schoolteacher, if his students had behaved the way the Democratic candidates behaved in that debate, he’d have rapped them across the knuckles with a ruler and sent them to their corners for a time-out.
Needing a respite from politics, Charles and I spent the next hour and 45 minutes watching The Lego Batman Movie — which turned out to be a highly engaging and entertaining spoof of the whole superhero genre — before returning to the political wars to mark our ballots. Charles had been for Bernie Sanders from the get-go; I had been on the fence between Sanders and Elizabeth Warren until her mean-spirited, scurrilous and desperate attack on Sanders as a sexist for a private conversation in which he supposedly questioned whether a woman can be elected President of the U.S. in 2020.
I’m voting for Bernie Sanders knowing full well that electing an open socialist — albeit a “democratic socialist,” two words many Americans, especially those 40 or over with direct experience of the Cold War, believe are contradictory — as President is going to be an uphill battle. I’m voting for Sanders despite my ongoing frustration that he could keep exactly the same positions on every issue he cares about and do better if he just wouldn’t saddle himself with the S-word.
I was amused when Sanders said that Franklin Roosevelt was a democratic socialist — which he wasn’t. Though FDR advocated many of the same programs Bernie Sanders supports now, his position on capitalism was more like Elizabeth Warren’s. He believed in capitalism, but felt it needed strong government regulation to save it from itself. Actually, Sanders isn’t the sort of “socialist” that believes in abolishing the private sector, either; when I had the chance to do a phone interview with him in 1998 I asked him if he’d eliminate private businesses altogether, he said, “Of course not. That would be ridiculous.”
I voted for Bernie Sanders knowing full well that he suffers from “electability” problems. All the Democratic Presidential candidates suffer from “electability” problems. The seven candidates on the February 25 debate stage all are running ahead of President Trump in head-to-head match-up polls, but this is February and the election is eight and one-half months of Republican propaganda and disinformation away. All the Democratic candidates have serious vulnerabilities the super-funded Republican campaign will seek to exploit.
We know about Sanders’: the “socialist” label, the calls for “Medicare for All” single-payer health care and free college tuition at public universities, the price tag on his programs (yes, single-payer health care and free college will more than pay for themselves over time, but the transition costs are pretty steep), and his stump speaking style which makes him come off more like an Old Testament prophet than a figure of decency and stability.
Elizabeth Warren doesn’t saddle herself with the S-word, but her programs are almost as radical — and almost as expensive — as Sanders’. What’s more, if he comes off like an Old Testament prophet, she comes off like a professor (which she used to be before she entered politics) getting exasperated lecturing a particularly thick set of students. Though she’s considerably more Left than Hillary Clinton, she has something of the same image problem: she comes off as a know-it-all, loudly proclaiming that she has a “plan” for everything — and she’s a woman in a still deeply sexist society that regards assertiveness and decisiveness as “masculine” qualities, to be embraced when a man shows them but shunned when a woman does.
In other years and other political environments, Amy Klobuchar or Pete Buttigieg might have been able to pull off the balancing act that helped elect the last three Democratic Presidents: Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton and Barack Obama. They could have seemed young, fresh and progressive enough to appeal to young voter without turning off the giant corporations and wealthy donors that fund the Democratic Party as much as they do the Republican Party. But in this year, and this political environment, they’ve responded to the double-pronged progressive challenge of Sanders and Warren by tacking so far to the Right they’ve given away virtually any chance of winning the young Left-leaning voters the Democrats are going to need not only as a voter base but a volunteer base as well.
Then there’s Joe Biden, a rotting corpse of a politician who on more than one issue is living in the past. There’s his bizarre penchant for public gaffes, including his announcement in South Carolina that he’s running for U.S. Senate; his odd claim that he’s part of the African-American community (sorry, Joe, but working for a Black guy for eight years does not make you Black yourself); and his and his son’s involvement in the Ukraine political scandal over which President Trump was impeached by the House and acquitted by the Senate on almost totally party-line votes.
Though no one has shown credible evidence that the Bidens had any corrupt intent or got underhanded financial gain, can you really believe that of all the people in the world, the shareholders of Ukraine’s Burisma company thought Hunter Biden was the greatest and most helpful businessperson they could tap for their board in 2014? They wanted access and influence to his dad, then the vice-president of the United States, and they got it. It’s a perfect example of the so-called “swamp” Trump promised to “drain” in his 2016 campaign (only to fill his own government with its dregs), and if Biden is the nominee (which, barring a huge comeback win in South Carolina, is almost certainly not going to happen, thank goodness) Trump will endlessly remind voters that Biden pressured the Ukrainian government to fire a prosecutor who was going to investigate his son’s company.
Finally, there are the three mega-rich guys who this year tried to buy the Democratic Presidential nomination the way Trump effectively bought and bullied his way into the Republican nomination in 2016. One, Andrew Yang, has already given it up as a bad investment, folded his tent and gone home. One, Tom Steyer, probably could have claimed pre-emptive front-runner status if he’d declared two years earlier, at a time when so many Democrats were shell-shocked by Trump’s win they may well have decided the only way to beat a billionaire (so-called) with no political experience was with another billionaire with no political experience.
But Steyer waited too long and played too much by the rules — instead of self-financing his campaign he staged money-losing online “fundraisers” to get enough individual donors to qualify for the debates — and in the meantime someone far richer, less rule-bound and more unscrupulous, Michael Bloomberg, decided to outbid him. Bloomberg is a truly weird candidate, a sort of less flamboyant version of Donald Trump: he really is a billionaire (there’s quite a lot of room for doubt as to whether Trump is), he can lay at least a credible claim to having made it on his own (Trump got a $63 million gift from his dad), and he’s already held political office as Mayor of New York for 12 years.
But Bloomberg has his liabilities. As Mayor of New York he signed on to a blatantly unconstitutional “stop and frisk” policy that targeted young Black and Latino men on the streets for random searches without any regard to that pesky Constitutional requirement of “probable cause.” He’s since issued a lame so-called “apology” that ran something like, “I didn’t realize the effects ‘stop and frisk’ would have on the Black and Brown communities” — which is sort of like Adolf Hitler saying, “I didn’t realize the effects the Holocaust would have on the Jewish community.” Elizabeth Warren also dredged up published comments by Bloomberg denigrating certain women as, among other things, “fat Lesbians” — sounding an awful lot like Trump — and Bloomberg’s defense was that those remarks were “Borscht Belt humor.” (That probably had Harvey Weinstein’s lawyers saying to themselves, “Damn! Why didn’t we think of that?”)
Bloomberg has a deeper problem than what he’s said or done specifically to Blacks or women. He’s a multibillionaire who made his money in Wall Street speculation and built a media empire that promotes and advocates the concerns of the business community. As both Sanders and Warren have pointed out in the two debates Bloomberg has been on, he’s a living contradiction of virtually everything the modern-day Democratic party, and particularly its young base voters and volunteers, claims to stand for. Bloomberg’s is a Libertarian success story, and his whole appeal is to voters disgusted by the socially Right-wing agenda of the Republican party — particularly their attacks on women’s reproductive choice and Queer rights — but quite O.K. with an economy and a society in which the rich continually get richer at everybody else’s expense.
I don’t think Donald Trump is guaranteed re-election, but I do think the task of unseating him is going to be a lot harder than most Democrats believe (or fantasize). Trump goes into 2020 with a lot more advantages than he had in 2016. He has the full powers of the Presidency to reward his friends, punish his enemies and make life as difficult as possible for anyone who dares to oppose his re-election. He has an economy that overall is doing reasonably well. More importantly, he has a carefully cultivated Right-wing voter base of between 40 and 45 percent of the American electorate that will turn out for any Republican Presidential candidate that appeals to their sense of grievance, their racism, sexism and hatred of Queer people, and their reverence for the rich.
That base has been carefully built up over decades by talk radio, Fox News, Right-wing churches and an overall propaganda infrastructure the Left can’t even begin to compete with on an equal level. The Republican party also has a huge base of wealthy donors, and there’s a basic problem the Democrats have that the Republicans don’t. The priorities of Republican mega-donors and Republican voters are basically the same: a Libertarian economic agenda of “small government,” an end to the welfare state and an end to government protection of workers, consumers and the environment, co-existing surprisingly comfortably with a radical-Right “Christian” social agenda calling for a Big Government that micro-manages people’s personal lives, especially their sex lives.
The Democrats face a deep and profound split between what their big donors want and what their base voters want. Their base voters want a huge expansion of government and major new taxes on the rich to pay for more social welfare programs, a guarantee of access to health care as a right, free college education for all who can benefit from it, and strong regulation of the private sector to protect workers, consumers and the environment. The big Democratic donors want none of those things; they may be appalled by the Republican Right’s demand for a government that micro-manages how people use their bodies and deal with the consequences, good and bad, therefrom, but they’re perfectly happy maintaining an economic system in which the rich continually get richer and everyone else gets poorer.
I suspect (and hereby predict) that after the South Carolina primary on February 29 and the so-called “Super Tuesday” on March 3, the Democratic Presidential race will devolve into a one-on-one battle between Michael Bloomberg and Bernie Sanders. The parts of America’s ruling elite who support the Democratic Party, who regard the nomination of Sanders as an existential threat to the Democratic Party as well as to their own privileges, will see Biden fall, Klobuchar and Buttigieg stay in also-ran status, and will therefore unite around Bloomberg as the only pro-corporate Democrat who can keep Sanders from getting the nomination.
I understand the concerns about what might happen to Democrats across-the-board if Bernie Sanders is the nominee. The very first Presidential election in which I was old enough to vote was 1972, when the presumptive front-runner the Democratic Establishment had anointed (Ed Muskie) faded early — helped go down by a letter written by one of Richard Nixon’s dirty-tricks operatives that attacked Muskie’s wife and led him to cry in public — and George McGovern, who was progressive but far less radical than Bernie Sanders, mounted a grass-roots campaign and grabbed the Democratic nomination … only to be swamped by a divisive, unscrupulous Republican opponent, Richard Nixon, who won a 49-state landslide.
That’s one possible scenario if Bernie Sanders is the Democratic nominee. It’s not necessarily the only scenario — one can also imagine Sanders turning on working-class voters who went for him over Hillary Clinton in the 2016 primaries in Michigan and Wisconsin (both key states for Trump in the general election). One can imagine Trump beating Sanders in a landslide, or Trump becoming the first person in U.S. history to win the Presidency in the Electoral College while losing the popular vote twice. Certainly nominating Sanders is a risk if you think that voters are looking for is an end to Mr. Trump/’s Wild Ride and a return to what Republican Warren G. Harding famously called a “return to normalcy” in 1920. (The word he meant was “normality.”)
But I voted for Bernie Sanders in the 2020 California Democratic primary for the same reason I voted for him in the 2016 primary: I agree with him on the issues. Like Sanders, I call myself a “democratic socialist.” Like him, I think the U.S. government should guarantee all its citizens — indeed, all its residents, whatever their immigration status — equal access to health care. The worldwide coronavirus crisis is just underscoring the crucial importance of taking care of all people’s health; bacteria and viruses don’t care about people’s race, gender, sexual orientation or immigration status. As alternative cancer and AIDS researcher Peter Duesberg said, “To a virus, we are just 73 kilograms of meat.”
I also agree with Sanders that public college should be available to all Americans free of charge. (This isn’t a radical idea, nor is it particularly new; the University of California was tuition-free until Ronald Reagan got elected governor in 1966.) And I agree with an idea that got touched on in the February 25 debate: we need a law to require large corporations to have workers’ and consumers’ representatives on their boards of directors. Sanders was attacked for that proposal and told it would destroy the very basis of capitalism, which it wouldn’t; it’s already the law in Germany, and the German economy still has a robust and successful private sector.

I voted for Bernie Sanders for President because, in the immortal words of America’s first democratic socialist candidate for President, Eugene V. Debs, “I would rather vote for what I want and not get it than vote for what I don’t want and get it.” Besides, this is a primary, and in a primary you’re supposed to be able to be idealistic. After the Democratic National Convention nominates a candidate, I will vote for whoever that person is, even if it’s Michael Bloomberg — just as I, albeit reluctantly, cast a lesser-of-two-evils vote for Hillary Clinton in November 2016. But this time around, I voted for a person I’ve long admired, whose issue positions I agree with, and who would be the sort of President I want the U.S. to have.

Monday, January 27, 2020

Billie Eilish, Demi Lovato Shine at Troubled Grammy Awards


by MARK GABRISH CONLAN

Copyright © 2020 by Mark Gabrish Conlan for Zenger’s Newsmagazine • All rights reserved

Last night CBS-TV telecast the 62nd annual Grammy Awards from the Staples Center in Los Angeles — billed as “the house Kobe Bryant built” because the arena was originally built at least in part to host the Los Angeles Lakers basketball team when Bryant was one of its stars. By a freak of timing, Bryant had just been killed in a helicopter crash that day along with his daughter and seven other people. So the Grammys largely became, in a weird but appropriate way, a tribute to a celebrity and his tragically premature demise even though the music world the Grammys supposedly honor and the sports world in which Bryant thrived are normally miles apart.
If nothing else, this gave the Grammy participants and organizers something legitimate to mourn over and took attention away from the latest scandal surrounding the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences (NARAS), which puts on the Grammys: the sudden either resignation or firing of the group’s first female executive director, Deborah Dugan, four days before the show. Last December Dugan filed a 46-page complaint against the group alleging she was sexually harassed by general counsel Joel Katz, and also that NARAS wanted to re-hire former director Neil Portnow as a consultant despite an outstanding rape charge against him by a female recording artist. (Portnow’s predecessor, Michael Greene, was also forced out over sexual harassment allegations.)
My source for the story was the Hollywood Reporter at https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/thr-esq/can-cbs-grammys-telecast-weather-an-explosive-scandal-1272073. The article explained that the Dugan issue threatened to cast a cloud over the awards show — particularly since one of the sins she’s accusing NARAS of is rigging the awards and the live telecast so female artists (and probably not just female artists!) are being boosted with awards and appearances on the show based on whom they’re sleeping with. At least two major women singers ended their performances last night by walking into the audience and singing the final verses directly to much older men in the front rows.
Being able to honor Kobe Bryant and turn the ceremony largely into a memorial tribute to him, even though he had nothing to do with music (unlike some other major athletes these days, Bryant blessedly didn’t think he could sing or act, and therefore didn’t try to do those things in public), gave NARAS and the on-air talent a way out of having to confront the latest Grammy scandal. Bryant’s death united the crowd both at Staples Center and on TV in mourning for a celebrity tragedy instead of thinking, “Who’s been sleeping with whom to get this award?”

Billie Eilish the Night’s Big Winner

The top awards at the 62nd annual Grammy Awards came to a prodigiously talented Irish-American singer-songwriter named Billie Eilish. I first encountered her when I bought her CD as part of a bunch of discs I picked up one night at a Target store (which since the demise of most brick-and-mortar record stores under the lash of the Internet has become one of the most convenient places to pick up CD’s of current mainstream pop) and I’m not sure why. Having the same first name as my all-time favorite singer, Billie Holiday? Putting a provocative cover on her release: a photo of her with long black hair and a baggy white outfit draped over what’s either a white piano or a white couch? Or giving her record a philosophical title: When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?
My first impression when I actually played Eilish’s disc was, “If Tori Amos made a drum-and-bass record, this is what it would sound like.” It’s a sound that’s hard to characterize — if you look it up on Apple Music’s Gracenote database it gives Eilish’s genre as “Electronica,” and there are certainly elements of electronic dance music in it. But the sound Eilish and Finneas, her brother, producer and co-writer, have created is a haunting blend of low-frequency dance-pop bass lines; bits of guitar, piano and synth used as ornaments, Eilish’s own multitracked vocals and a matter-of-fact singing style that projects richly — if sometimes self-consciously — “poetic” lyrics.
Yes, like just about every woman singer-songwriter who attempts depth in both her music and her words these days, there are elements of her great predecessors — not only Tori Amos but Joni Mitchell before her and Melanie before her. (I still think Melanie is one of the most savagely underrated artists of the 1960’s; she’s remembered — if at all — only for hippie-dippy anthems like “Beautiful People” and “Brand New Key,” but she wrote a lot of songs about the darker sides of human existence and sang them in a wrenching soul voice matched, among white women singers in the 1960’s, only by Janis Joplin’s. If you like Cyndi Lauper, Jewel, Lorde or any of the other white women today who sing enervated songs in high ranges with fast vibratos, you’re liking Melanie whether you know it or not.)
I hope whatever Deborah Dugan has to say about the process by which the Grammys are awarded — and how NARAS, in her telling, is an organization that makes Harvey Weinstein’s operation look like a model of feminist sensitivity by comparison — doesn’t take away from Eilish’s achievement. She won Album of the Year, Record of the Year, Song of the Year (for “Bad Boy,” shared with her brother, Finneas O’Connell) and Best New Artist. Despite the unfortunate green patch she splashed on her hair — she looked like the guy in the Dr. Seuss story Green Eggs and Ham threw out the green eggs and they landed on her head — she presented herself on the show as an artist, not a sexpot.
She also seemed overwhelmed by the attention she got. Both she and Finneas said that they never expected their album to sweep the Grammy Awards. Neither, quite frankly, did I. I thought she’d have a career like Tori Amos’s, releasing delightfully enigmatic albums at regular intervals and building up a cult following without making it into the major music marketplace. I didn’t think music this complex, this individualistic, this unique and this beautiful was going to land its maker on the cover of Rolling Stone.
Eilish is probably the most off-beat Grammy Album of the Year winner since the Canadian band Arcade Fire. This seems like one time the much-maligned NARAS — whom I still haven’t forgiven for giving the 1984 Album of the Year award to Lionel Richie’s All Night Long instead of one of the two ground-breaking masterpieces released that year, Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the U.S.A. and Prince’s Purple Rain — got it triumphantly right.
Not, of course, that there won’t be crabbing. Doubtless there will be some complaints from the hipper-than-thou critics at the Los Angeles Times that once again the NARAS voters have failed to give Album of the Year to a rap (or “hip-hop,” to use the euphemism for rap by people who like it) release. There will also probably be people who will claim Lizzo, the giant African-American soul belter, should have won Album of the Year and Best New Artist, and claim that she didn’t because NARAS is racist.
But from what I’ve heard of Lizzo (whose silly stage name sounds like a cheap knock-off laundry detergent you buy at 99¢ stores or in Mexico), she isn’t doing anything Aretha Franklin didn’t do better before her, or Dinah Washington didn’t do better before Aretha did. Lizzo’s great, but we’ve heard her music before. Despite the influences — not only the ones I mentioned but the ones Eilish has copped to: rapper Tyler, the Creator (who won the 2019 Best New Artist Grammy I thought should have gone to the searing R&B singer H.E.R.), Childish Gambino, Avril Lavigne (another of Melanie’s artistic daughters!), Earl Sweatshirt, Amy Winehouse, the Spice Girls and Lana Del Rey — Billie Eilish is unique.

The Song-by-Song Countdown

In previous blog posts on the Grammy Awards I’ve mostly given a song-by-song countdown on the various musical performances incorporated into the show. As the Grammys have evolved the pretense that it’s an “awards” show has become weaker and the showcase numbers by major musical stars have become the show’s point. What’s more, the range of musical styles showcased has become narrower and narrower: the brief appearance after the “In Memoriam” segment honoring the people the music industry lost in 2019 of a band billed on screen as “Orleans Street” but advertised in the narration as the Preservation Hall Jazz Band playing the classic New Orleans funeral song, “Oh, Didn’t He Ramble,” it was a flashback to the days when the Grammys at least acknowledged, via a token song, the existence of classical and jazz.
The show was hosted by Alicia Keys, a talented singer but one with an exaggerated reverence for her own talents: she sang several numbers throughout the show, including a moving a cappella version of “It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye” as a tribute to Kobe Bryant (which was nice) and a lo-o-o-ong tribute to the Grammys themselves (which wasn’t). The show opened with Lizzo — taking a slot that in previous years has gone to Paul McCartney, Paul Simon, U2, Don Henley and Billy Joel, among others — doing what appeared to be a medley of songs called “I’m Crying ’Cause I Love You” and “Shampoo and Brush Get You Out of My Hair.” I loved her form-fitting outfit — like Adele, Lizzo is a “woman of size” and isn’t afraid to show it off — and the fact that she plays flute as well as singing. Vocally she’s a great soul belter, and if anyone wants to do a biopic of the great 1940’s-1960’s gospel singer Mahalia Jackson she’d be a good casting choice — but she’s still a great practitioner of a familiar style.
After Lizzo’s opening and Alicia Keys’ Bryant tribute, the next artists up were country singer Blake Shelton and his current squeeze, Gwen Stefani. I’m not a fan of Blake Shelton and I don’t find him sexy at all — I was astounded when he won one of those “Sexiest Man Alive” awards — and I still can’t understand how this homely, not particularly talented and uncharismatic man has managed to get two far sexier and more talented singers, Miranda Lambert and Gwen Stefani, to fall in love with him. (“Maybe he has a big dick,” said my husband Charles.) At least I can hope that they’ll break up and Stefani will make a great album about it the way Lambert did.
Next up, after Keys’ interminable Grammy salute, were the Jonas Brothers doing a surprisingly good song called “What a Man’s Gotta Do,” which isn’t the slice of mindless machismo one might expect from the title. Afterwards came a rap number of mind-boggling pointlessness and pretentiousness from Tyler, the Creator — not only did he take the 2019 Best New Artist Grammy H.E.R. deserved, but his stage name is so egomaniacal I couldn’t resist joking to Charles, “Now we know God’s last name” — along with Charlie Wilson and some genuine musical talent from a great group, Boyz II Men, attempting to redeem what aside from their sweet vocal harmonies was a pseudo-musical mess.
After that was a musical salute to Prince led by Usher — who was actually a good choice — with former Prince associate Sheila E. and someone else whose name I missed. They did some pretty obvious song choices — “Little Red Corvette” from 1999, “When Doves Cry” from Purple Rain, and “Kiss” from Parade (the soundtrack album to Prince’s self-directed film flop, Under the Cherry Moon) —but did them better than just about anyone besides their creator could. Then Camila Cabello, who had opened the 2019 Grammys with her ridiculous tribute “Havana,” came out with a surprisingly different song choice, an intense ballad called “First Man.” “I like her better when she’s channeling Melanie than when she’s channeling Gloria Estefan,” I commented.
The next song up was one of the most powerful and emotional selections on the program: an aging but still attractive Tanya Tucker, her voice ravaged by the years but still powerful, doing a song called “Bring ’Em Home” in which she bids her lover to bring her flowers while she’s still alive instead of waiting to send them to her funeral after she croaks. Brandi Carlile, one of the greatest current talents in country music, appeared with Tucker but only as her piano accompanist; part of me wishes they had done a duet but part of me realizes the song was more powerful with Tucker alone; like Loretta Lynn in her later recordings, Tucker summoned up her history to drive the song home with maximum impact.
After that came Ariana Grande, a singer who’s impressed me not only for her noble response to the terrorist attack on her concert in Manchester, England on May 22, 2017 — instead of either canceling her tour (which would have made it look like a victory for the terrorists) or continuing it (which would have made her look insensitive), she scheduled another concert in Manchester, made it a benefit for the victims’ families, and closed it with a moving version of the classic “Over the Rainbow.” She wasn’t on the 2019 Grammy Awards because she wanted to perform a song from the CD she had just released, and Grammy producer Ken Ehrlich wanted her to do a song from the previous album she’d been nominated for.
Last night she did a medley of songs that included, at least according to my best guesses of their titles, “Kiss Me and Take Off Your Clothes” (I like role-reversal songs in which it’s the women telling the men to get down to business and have sex already!), “Imagine My World,” “My Favorite Things” (yes, the Rodgers and Hammerstein “My Favorite Things” from The Sound of Music, but with additional lyrics that turned the song into a sexy Madonna-esque romp — just how she got the famously protective Rodgers and Hammerstein Organization to let her do that is a mystery to me), “Gimme the World” and “Morning Love.” I like the idea of Ariana Grande better than I actually like her act, which seems to be yet another attempt by a baby diva to step into Madonna’s seven-league stiletto heels.
Next up was Bille Eilish’s number, which was just her and Finneas doing a simple performance of a song whose title I noted as “I Like It Like That” — doubtless it was called something else on her album but I can’t identify it without a recording of the show with which I could compare it to the CD — and then there was a reunion of the rock band Aerosmith with the pioneering rap act Run-D.M.C. (back when rap still had the potential to develop into a genuinely powerful and sophisticated musical form instead of hardening into a disgusting set of braggadocious clichés about how many women the singer has fucked, how many cops he’s killed, how many Queers he’s bashed and how much money and “bling” he’s accumulated) that started with Aerosmith alone doing “Living on the Edge” (a better song than I remembered it) and the Run-D.M.C. collaboration “Walk This Way.”
After that there came another unlikely collaboration of screaming-queen rapper L’il Nas X (he couldn’t even come up with an original name!), one-hit wonder country singer Billy Ray Cyrus (who’s had the indignity of seeing his daughter Miley have a longer and more lucrative career than his!), Diplo, the Korean “K-Pop” boy band BTS and someone else whose name I didn’t catch on the song “Old Town Road.” The song set a record by remaining Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100” chart for 19 weeks — though one wonders how much that had to do with the lack of competition — and the Wikipedia page credits L’il Nas X with inventing “country-rap” as a genre (haven’t these guys heard any of Johnny Cash’s many talking songs?). Frankly I’ve liked some of the covers better than this version — though I suspect the Grammys crowded the song with too many guest artists — and Johnny Mercer did the same basic concept better with “On the Nodaway Road” in the 1940’s.
After that came one of the most powerful, wrenching moments of the show: Demi Lovato singing her heart out on a song called “Anyone.” The announcement of her performance stated that she had written the song just a few days before a terrible crisis in her life — just what the crisis was wasn’t stated but, according to a post-Grammys article by Spencer Kornhaber on The Atlantic’s Web site (https://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2020/01/demi-lovatos-beautiful-shocking-grammys-song-anyone/605509/) , it was a drug overdose that led to her hospitalization. Backed only by a piano — like Tanya Tucker and Billie Eilish, she eschewed the insanely elaborate productions that studded the show and made some segments (especially Tyler, the Creator’s) virtually unwatchable — she tore into a song about her history of depression and how everything she’d tried, from music to substances, hadn’t been able to heal it.
Kornhaber read the song as connected to her O.D. and her relapse into drugs after six years loudly proclaiming her sobriety: “I tried to talk to my piano, I tried to talk to my guitar  / Talked tomyimagination / Confided into alcohol / Itried and tried and tried somemore / Told secrets ’til my voice was sore.” My only modification would be that Lovato has a long history of delivering emotionally raw and flabbergasting performances that shatter the usual anodyne character of awards shows. I searched my http://moviemagg.blogspot.com blog for my references to her and found that again and again — the Ray Charles tribute at the White House on March 1, 2016; “Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve” on December 31, 2016; the “Hand to Hand” hurricane relief mini-telethon on September 12, 2017; and the 45th annual American Music Awards on November 19, 2017 — I’ve praised Lovato for blowing away the pretensions of such occasions and delivering raw, emotion-ridden, soulful performances.
Next up was a tribute to slain rapper Nipsey Hussle, an L.A.-based performer who got literally caught up in the crossfire of the long-standing rivalry between the Bloods and the Crips gangs. To me, as someone who generally can’t stand rap and who had never heard of Nipsey Hussle before he was killed, Hussle’s murder was just more evidence of the fundamental evil behind most rap: the genre is so committed to extolling the “virtues” of crime and killing that even someone who tries to communicate a positive message through rap and use the money he made from it to better his community will ultimately fall victim to the vicious, anti-social nature of the form.
Among the artists who paid tribute to Hussle last night at the Staples Center (which had also been the site of his memorial service on April 11, 2019, 12 days after his murder) were John Legend, Meek Mill, D.J. Khalid, Kirk Franklin and (via a clip from one of his videos) Hussle himself. After that Rosalía, a Latin music sensation, did a couple of songs in Spanish (I couldn’t make out many of the words beyond “A ma cantar” and “La noche liber”) which were good attempts to incorporate flamenco music, including the traditional way of singing it, into modern pop — but I think I’d rather hear real flamenco than Rosalía’s rescension of it.
Then came one of the surprises of the night — introducing the award for Song of the Year Smokey Robinson and the country group Little Big Town did an a cappella version of the classic “My Girl,” which Robinson wrote for The Temptations back in 1964. (Actually he wrote it for his own group, the Miracles, but the Temptations managed to wrench it away from him.) Robinson is surprisingly well-preserved both physically and vocally; as I told Charles during his segment, watching him now it’s hard to believe he had his first hit, “Shop Around,” 60 years ago.
The next number was Alicia Keys doing her third number of the show (how’s that for over-exercising a host’s prerogative? The more she showed off her ego, the more I thought the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has made the right move by doing away with a host at all), “Underdog,” with Brittany Howard, the powerful lead singer of Alabama Shakes and an excellent solo artist in her own right, behind her. Alas, Howard only played guitar behind her and wasn’t allowed to open her mouth — much the way Tanya Tucker treated Brandi Carlile in her segment, but without the power of Tucker’s vocal that made up for it. After that H.E.R. (true name: Gabriella Wilson) did a song I noted as “Sometimes” that to me was great but didn’t live up to the scorching performance she’d given on last year’s Grammys — though Charles identified H.E.R. as the artist on the program of whom he’d most like to hear more.
Then former Grammy winner Bonnie Raitt — her famous red hair starting to get streaked with grey — came out and did “Angel from Montgomery,” but only did one verse of it because she was introducing it as a tribute to its composer, John Prine, one of this year’s Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award winners. Then Gary Clark, Jr., whose style is perched between neo-blues and neo-Hendrix, did a great song called “This Land Is My Land” that was the title track of his most recent album and was one of the few openly political songs on the show.
Though there were a handful of very veiled anti-Trump statements on the program, there was almost none of the Trump-bashing we’ve seen on other awards shows, at least partly because even more than other branches of entertainment, music is controlled by gatekeepers (especially in the channels musicians need to get their music out, like radio and streaming services) who are on the Right of the political spectrum. Frankly, these days the most politically progressive songs are coming from people like Willie Nelson, Steve Earle and Neil Young who are already way past their commercial primes and therefore can afford to piss off the people who control much of what we hear.
After a moving “In Memoriam” segment and the Trombone Shorty/Orleans Avenue/Preservation Hall performance of “Oh, Didn’t He Ramble,” the Grammys lurched to their overdue end (the show was blocked for 3 ½ hours and still went 20 minutes over), with what has been billed as a tribute to music education. One of the few unambiguously good things NARAS has done is not only lobby public school districts to maintain their music programs in the face of the so-called “back-to-basics” movement, which holds that the schools’ job is to teach reading, ’riting and ’rithmetic without any of those humanistic and politically suspicious frills like art and music, but also give grants and awards to particularly stellar music programs.
To communicate this message, the 62nd annual Grammy Awards entrusted a head-spinning list of talents — Camila Cabello, Cyndi Lauper, classical violinist Joshua Bell, Ben Platt, The War and Treaty (a Black duo of whom I inevitably joked to Charles, “Which one is The War and which is Treaty?”), Lee Curran, Guy Clark, Jr., Black ballerina Misty Copeland, classical pianist Lang Lang, and an orchestra and dancers selected from music students across the country — to perform a song from the 1980 musical film Fame. The moment I heard that I dreaded that I would hear another dreadful slog to Irene Cara’s hit song from the film, “Remember My Name.”

Instead they did the film’s spectacular closing anthem “I Sing the Body Electric,” a phrase with an interesting history. It began as a line in a poem by Walt Whitman, then was used by Ray Bradbury as the name for a science-fiction story about domestic robots, and later the title of the second (and best) album by the 1970’s jazz-rock group Weather Report. Here it came out as an anthem to hope, and while the plethora of guest stars (including two musicians from the classical world the program otherwise totally ignored) weighed it down and seemed too consciously intended by Ehrlich (who was directing his 40th and last Grammy Awards telecast) to create a “Grammy moment,” it still moved and brought this lumbering beast of an awards show, with the palls of Demi Lovato’s near-death, more sexual scandals from NARAS and the insanely macabre end of Kobe Bryant, to a powerful and affirmative close.

Sunday, December 15, 2019

mmm … peach …mint

How Impeaching Donald Trump Will Just Help His Re-Election

by MARK GABRISH CONLAN

Copyright © 2019 by Mark Gabrish Conlan for Zenger’s Newsmagazine • All rights reserved

NOTE: “Mmm-Peach-Mint” was a novelty flavor introduced by the Baskin-Robbins ice cream company in the summer of 1974 as a commercial tie-in to the House Judiciary Committee’s deliberations on impeaching then-President Richard Nixon.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” said Friedrich Nietzsche — in a line later appropriated by singer Kelly Clarkson. During the 2016 Presidential campaign, I compared Donald Trump to Antaeus, the giant whom the Greek hero Herakles (you probably know him better by his Roman name, Hercules) had to fight as one of his 12 legendary “labors.” The problem was that Antaeus was the son of Gaea, the earth mother, so every time Herakles knocked him to the ground, he got back up again, refreshed by a boost of strength from his mom. The only way Herakles could defeat Antaeus was by holding him in mid-air with one hand while beating him up with the other, so Gaea couldn’t come in contact with him and give him the strength to keep fighting.
The most amazing aspect of Donald Trump’s weird life is his uncanny ability to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. He did it in 1991, when the banks who had loaned him money to build casinos in Atlantic City were about to foreclose on him and force him into bankruptcy — until they realized that the casinos would be worth more with Trump’s name on them than without it. So they cut a deal by which he could keep his name on the casinos and collect a royalty from it, but without having anything to do with running them. The deal energized Trump’s businesses; realizing he could make money merely by leasing his name without the bother of actually building or owning anything, he did many more such deals and raked in huge amounts of money for doing absolutely nothing.
Trump snatched victory from the jaws of defeat again in 2016, when the release of his conversation with Billy Bush on the set of Access Hollywood — with Trump’s proud boast that he could have his way with any woman he wanted because “when you’re a star, they’ll let you do anything” — one month before the election caused panic within the Republican Party. Veteran GOP professionals and strategists panicked, thinking there was no way the American people would elect a President who had openly and proudly boasted of committing rape on national TV. There was even talk of taking Trump off the ticket and putting up his running mate, Mike Pence, for President. Instead, Trump stayed on the ticket and ultimately won the presidency in the Electoral College despite getting three million fewer votes than his principal opponent.
And he’s about to do it again as he becomes only the fourth President against whom impeachment has been recommended to the House of Representatives. Andrew Johnson — a Tennessee Democrat whom Illinois Republican Abraham Lincoln put on the 1864 ticket as a symbol of national unity — got impeached four years later, and escaped conviction by one vote in the U.S. Senate. Richard Nixon resigned rather than face near-certain impeachment by the House and removal by the Senate. Bill Clinton, like Andrew Johnson, escaped removal because, though 55 Senators voted to convict him on one of the articles of impeachment, his impeachers couldn’t muster the two-thirds Senate vote required under the Constitution.
Donald Trump will have no problem staying in office. He will not only escape Senate conviction, he will do so by a far larger and more substantial margin than either Johnson or Clinton. On December 12, 2019 the House Judiciary Committee voted to recommend to the full House that Trump be impeached — but they did so on a strict party-line vote, with all 21 committee Democrats voting for and all 17 Republicans voting against. The vote to impeach Trump in the full House is likely to go along similarly strict party lines; a few Democrats may buck the party and vote against impeachment but no Republican is likely to vote for it because if they do, they’ll immediately be purged from the party the way Right-wing Tea Party Michigan Congressmember Justin Amash was after he merely said he favored the House launching an impeachment inquiry into Donald Trump.
Likewise, Trump will have no trouble surviving the Senate trial. With the U.S. Senate split 53 to 47 in the Republicans’ favor, 20 Republicans would have to cross party lines to vote to convict him and remove him from office. That would be 20 more Republicans than will actually vote against him. Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell (R-Kentucky) has made it clear he is actively coordinating impeachment strategy with Trump and his attorneys to make sure no Republicans defect. Instead of an impartial juror — which is what Senators are supposed to be when they try an impeachment (they even have to take a special oath to do that, above and beyond the oath they had to take to assume office) — McConnell clearly sees himself as a partisan floor manager, working to make sure a bill that would be hostile to his party and its leader gets defeated.
But even before McConnell admitted publicly that he was “in lock-step” with Trump and his legal team fighting the impeachment, there was virtually no chance of any Senate Republican defections. The reason is that Trump has such a total “hold” on the Republican base that any GOP Congressmember or Senator who dares defy him — especially on such an existential issue as his ability to continue in office — would instantly be writing his political obituary. Any Republican House member who votes to impeach Trump, or any Senator who votes to convict him, will instantly draw a pro-Trump primary challenger and get thrown out of office before he or she has a chance to make it to the general election.

Impeachment Makes Trump Stronger

What’s more, being impeached by the Democratic House and acquitted by the Republican Senate will only make Donald Trump a stronger, not a weaker, candidate in November 2020. Trump has managed to build a cult of victimhood that he shares with his base voters. For someone born to as much money as he was (even if, as I suspect, Trump’s fortune is considerably smaller than he says it is — one of the real reasons I think he is fighting so hard to keep from having to release his tax returns), Trump has an amazing amount of status anxiety and grievance. Fred Trump, Donald’s father, was a reasonably successful developer in the outer boroughs of New York City — but the Trumps weren’t considered part of New York’s “A”-list because they hadn’t cracked Manhattan.
When Donald took over, aided by attorney Roy Cohn — former chief of staff to the notorious Red-baiting Senator Joe McCarthy (R-Wisconsin) and later so unscrupulous a lawyer that the New York State Bar disbarred him a few months before he died of AIDS complications in 1987 — he did manage to do real-estate deals in Manhattan. But he still didn’t get the respect and awe he wanted from his fellow 1-percenters. Instead he was regarded as a tabloid figure, a sort of “trash celebrity” who made headlines with his adulteries and published ghost-written “autobiographies” like The Art of the Deal and Surviving at the Top. Trump eventually landed the job hosting the “reality” TV show The Apprentice, which presented him as the most successful and intelligent super-capitalist of all time, but he still felt so much status anxiety, so much fear that he’s really a little man (and a lousy businessperson) under all the braggadocio, he felt the only way he could counteract his fears of inadequacy and inferiority was to run for, and win, the biggest prize of all: the U.S. Presidency.
Trump’s status anxieties, fears, hatreds and prejudices found a perfect match in the huge voter base the Republican Party built out of the wrenching political changes of the 1960’s. As the Democrats, once the party of slavery, segregation and the Ku Klux Klan, switched sides on the race issue and became the party of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965, many white working-class voters who had previously been loyal Democrats started to change their views. They saw the Democrats extending the reach of New Deal social programs to African-Americans and other racial minorities, and believed this would mean money and social access would be taken away from them and given to people of color. They also saw the anti-Viet Nam War movement and wrenching social changes of the 1960’s — particularly the sexual revolution, drug use and the hippie culture — as direct attacks on the values they had been taught to revere and live by when they grew up.
Confronted by the independent Presidential candidacy of openly racist, reactionary Alabama governor George Wallace, which threatened to split the Right-wing working-class vote aroused by racial and social prejudices and enable the Democrats to win the 1968 Presidential election, Richard Nixon and Democrat-turned independent-turned Republican Senator Strom Thurmond (R-South Carolina) cooked up the “Southern Strategy.” That meant that with the Democrats having given up on being the policy of racism and cultural prejudice, the Republicans would take on those mantles and embrace racist promises and policies. The “Southern Strategy” worked even better than its authors intended: it reversed the Presidential outcome from Lyndon Johnson’s 61 percent victory over Barry Goldwater in 1964 to a combined 57 percent for Nixon and Wallace against Democrat Hubert Humphrey’s 43 percent in 1968.
It also set the stage for the Republicans to become what political scientist Samuel Lubell called the “sun party,” the party that sets the agenda, dominates the electorate and relegates America’s other major party to “moon party” status. That doesn’t mean the “sun party” wins every election, but it does mean that when they lose they don’t stay out of power very long, and they’re able to block any major changes the “moon party” tries to make on the rare occasions they make it into power. Since 1968 the Republicans have won eight Presidential elections to the Democrats’ five, and a series of increasingly Right-wing Republican Presidents — Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan, George W. Bush and now Donald Trump — have slowly but surely remade the country in an ideologically Rightward direction.
There are limits to that analysis. The Republicans — especially since the 1980 election, when the so-called “Moral Majority” and succeeding organizations on the Christian Right first established themselves as a major part of the GOP base — have had a lot more success with the Libertarian economic part of their agenda than the social part. While a series of tax cuts biased in favor of the rich has severely weakened government’s ability to level the playing field economically or do much in the way of infrastructure and other social investments, women in most states still have the right of reproductive choice and Queer people can marry each other. It’s not surprising that a movement largely funded by the super-rich would tackle the super-rich’s economic priorities — mainly, to make America’s distribution of wealth and income even more unequal in their favor — before they’d fulfill the demands of the Christian Right.
But overall the Right has become far more powerful and influential than the Left, not only nationwide but worldwide (though that’s a topic for another article). And they’ve done it largely by nursing the status anxieties of working-class voters who used to support Left or center-Left parties but now see those parties as representing ethnic minorities, immigrants and others who are “taking our jobs away.” At least part of the Rightward transformation of America has been the transformation of the U.S. media, which began in 1987 when Reagan’s Federal Communications Commission (FCC) ended the so-called “Fairness Doctrine” that had previously required broadcasters to present both sides of controversial issues.
As music radio shifted from AM to the better-sounding FM band, the entire AM radio band became dominated by talk shows. Not all of them were political, but the ones that were were almost entirely strongly Right-wing in orientation. Eventually the stars of Right-wing radio — Rush Limbaugh, Bill O’Reilly, Mark Levin, Roger Hedgecock et al. — built huge followings by using the same rhetorical style Senator Joe McCarthy had used before them and Donald Trump would pick up later. It’s a combination of self-righteousness, a bullying style that openly sneers at anyone who disagrees, a conspiratorial world view that doesn’t admit the possibility that anyone might have a different opinion without being part of some group with a nefarious anti-American agenda, and an overall appeal in which the host tells the listeners that they are part of an embattled “real American” minority under siege by the forces of progressivism who want to take away their jobs, their schools, their guns and the God-given “right” of white men to rule.
Trump has won the huge following he has — about 40 to 45 percent of the American population — in large measure because he’s the first Presidential candidate who talks like a host on AM talk radio or Fox News (which brought the voice of talk radio to TV in 1996 and has remained the highest-rated cable news network ever since). Like the talk-radio and Fox hosts, he portrays himself as the victim, endlessly put upon by dastardly “plots” seeking to undermine the good work he’s doing on behalf of America — or at least on behalf of the Americans he considers part of his coalition. Like Antaeus, he gains strength from every attack against him because he can cite it as yet more evidence that “they” — the progressives, the liberals, the Democrats, people of color, immigrants, “uppity” women, Queers — are out to get him.
When Rush Limbaugh first started gaining his nationwide popularity, many listeners told reporters they liked him because “he says what I think.” Like Trump, Limbaugh told his audiences that they shouldn’t be ashamed to be prejudiced against people of color, feminists or Queers; instead, they should be proud of those attitudes because those were the attitudes that had made America “great.” Trump’s campaign slogan, “Make America Great Again,” tied right into the attitude of many white working-class voters that they had lost something the Democrats, people of color, immigrants and “free-traders” had taken away from them: not only the good-paying factory jobs that had once sustained them but the unquestioned sense that men were superior to women, whites were superior to people of color, and Queer people were so far beyond the pale they should stay hidden in the closets, be arrested and, when exposed, do the “honorable” thing of killing themselves.
Trump has played the victim card again and again and again during his candidacy and his Presidency. Every time he’s faced a serious challenge, from the Access Hollywood tape to Robert Mueller’s investigation into his campaign’s alleged “collusion” with Russia to the current threat of impeachment, he’s denounced it as a “witch hunt” by people who simply hate him and want to get rid of him no matter how much harm that will do to “our Country” (a word he always capitalizes in his tweets). Like the 18th century French King Louis XIV, who famously said, “L’etat, c’est moi” (“The state? It is I!”), Trump equates his own interest with that of America as a whole and regards his enemies as vicious, irredeemably evil and out to destroy him and thereby hurt the “Country.”
A number of commentators have noted the huge numbers of angry tweets Trump has sent out about impeachment as evidence that he really doesn’t want to become just the third President to be formally impeached by the House and tried by the Senate. Don’t believe it. Trump saying “Please don’t impeach me” is like Br’er Rabbit saying, “Please don’t throw me in the briar patch.” Just as Br’er Rabbit wanted to be in the briar patch because all the goodies he wanted were there, Trump wants to be impeached because it will provide him the ultimate victim card, the final proof that the dastardly “They” are out to get him by any means necessary — and therefore his base needs to rise up and not only re-elect him but do so by a landslide margin.
One Democrat who realized from the get-go how dangerous it would be for her party to impeach Donald Trump was House Speaker Nancy Pelosi. Ever since her party regained control of the House in November 2018, Pelosi had been trying her damnedest to put the brakes on any consideration of impeachment because she knew that with no chance that Trump would be convicted in the Senate, all an impeachment would do is rile up Trump’s base and make his re-election easier, not harder. As Trump openly defied the House and Mueller’s investigation in every way he could think of — including instituting a blanket prohibition on White House staff talking to Congressional committees or providing them documents, thereby blocking Congress from doing its constitutional job of “overseeing” the Presidency — Pelosi kept short-circuiting the demands of other House Democrats to take up impeachment because she knew how devastating it would be for her party and its chances of defeating Trump in 2020.
But Donald Trump, a man who mistakes forbearance for “weakness,” responded to Pelosi’s reluctance to impeach not by stepping back from his anti-democratic treatment of Congress, but by ramping it up. On July 25 — just one day after Robert Mueller effectively closed out his investigation by testifying inconclusively before the House Judiciary and Intelligence Committees — Trump was at it again, calling Ukrainian President Volodomyr Zelensky and threatening to withhold military aid Ukraine desperately needed in its war with Russia unless Zelensky ordered investigations of former vice-president Joe Biden, (so far) the front-runner in the race for the Democratic nomination against Trump, and Biden’s son Hunter. Trump also asked Zelensky to announce investigations into loony-tunes Right-wing conspiracy theories that it wasn’t Russia that hacked the 2016 U.S. election, but Ukraine — and they were trying to help Hillary Clinton, not Donald Trump.
Trump’s pattern of responding to attacks with defiance has continued to this day. In a bizarre column in the December 15 Los Angeles Times (https://www.latimes.com/opinion/story/2019-12-15/impeachment-democracy-presidents-donald-trump), law professors Tom Ginsburg and Aziz Huq of the University of Chicago and David Landau of Florida State University wrote, “Once impeachment begins, most presidents are likely to refrain from the controversial behavior — be it outright corruption or subverting foreign policy for a political campaign — that precipitated the process.” Not Donald Trump. As the House Judiciary Committee was debating impeachment, Trump’s personal attorney, Rudolph Giuliani — who himself is under investigation by the Southern District of New York — was in Ukraine interviewing government officials seeking derogatory information on the Bidens for a documentary film he’s making for a Right-wing Web site.
Trump himself said in one of the impromptu press conferences he likes to give on the White House lawn, when asked if it was appropriate for him to tell the Ukrainian President to investigate one of his political rivals, “I think Ukraine should investigate the Bidens.” He added that China should also investigate the Bidens because Hunter Biden got a seat on the board of a Chinese company after he left the board of the Ukrainian energy company Burisma. As a number of commentators have noted, Trump seems to think that the way to answer being accused of something illegal, like asking a foreign country or its nationals to help his political campaign, is to do it again, and this time to do it in public, telling his people that he’s so unafraid of any consequences, and so convinced he did nothing wrong, that he’ll do it again in plain view.

Impeachment and the Democratic Presidential Candidates

Trump’s chances for re-election are zooming upward not only because it will be yet another victim card he can play to mobilize the base, but also because the Democratic Party is, as usual, screwing things up. First, the Democrats overconfidently assumed that Trump couldn’t win the 2016 election — and indeed he wouldn’t have if the United States were really a democracy, since three million more people voted for Hillary Clinton than for Trump. Instead, the framers of the Constitution deliberately made the U.S. a limited republic in which, as James Madison wrote in Federalist #10, elected representatives would “refine and enlarge the public views, by passing them through the medium of a chosen body of citizens, whose wisdom may best discern the true interest of their country.”
Thus the framers created a structure in which no individual citizen would vote directly for any office higher than a member of the House of Representatives. U.S. Senators would be chosen by state legislatures (until 1913, when the Constitution was amended to provide for direct election of Senators) and the President would be chosen by an electoral college whose delegations would meet separately in their own states. One of the ways the Republican Party has become and remained the dominant “sun party” force in U.S. politics since 1968 is they’ve shrewdly used and exploited the anti-democratic features of the Constitution — the Electoral College, the guarantee of two Senators to each state regardless of population, and the near-absolute power of state legislatures to decide who can (or can’t) vote and to draw up the districts by which House members are elected.
The Democrats are slowly but surely throwing away whatever chance they had to defeat Donald Trump at the polls in 2020. First, they allowed too many candidates to enter the race. The Republicans made that mistake in 2016, but it didn’t matter because Donald Trump seized the initiative and won an early (and lasting) advantage over the Republican base by being more open and out-front in his bigotry than his opponents had dared. No Democrat in 2020 has managed a similar lightning emergence from the crowded field. If you’re a Democrat, no matter what tendency within the party you identify with — militant progressive, cautious left-of-center, moderate or economically conservative and socially liberal — there’s more than one candidate for you.
In 2016 progressive Democrats didn’t have to choose between Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren because Sanders only decided to run after Warren decided not to. Now they’re running against each other, thereby splitting the progressive vote and paving the way for a moderate. Or, rather, they would be doing that if there were a truly viable moderate candidate — which there isn’t. Joe Biden began the campaign as the Democratic frontrunner largely because of his association with Barack Obama; he’s run so openly and blatantly an appeal to return to the Obama years and to get politics off the front pages as much as possible that I’ve joked his campaign slogan should be, “Make America Boring Again.”
One of the grim ironies of the Trump impeachment is that Joe Biden’s political career is collateral damage — because Joe Biden in 2015 did exactly the same thing to Ukraine that Donald Trump did in 2019. In 2015 Biden went to Ukraine to meet with then-Ukrainian President Petro Poroshenko and demanded that he fire the country’s general prosecutor, Viktor Shokin, who at the time was leading an investigation into Burisma Holdings, the Ukrainian energy company on whose board Biden’s son Hunter then sat. Biden told Poroshenko that Ukraine wouldn’t be getting $1 billion in loan guarantees the U.S. had promised them unless Poroshenko got rid of Shokin. Four years later, Trump called the current Ukrainian President, Volodomyr Zelensky — who’d won with 70 percent of the vote largely over allegations that the Poroshenko administration was corrupt — and essentially told him he wouldn’t be getting U.S. military aid for his war with Russia unless, among other things, he reinstated the investigation Shokin had launched against Burisma and the Bidens.
It’s true that, as USA Today reporter Courtney Subramanian explained in a story published October 3 (https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/2019/10/03/what-really-happened-when-biden-forced-out-ukraines-top-prosecutor/3785620002/), there are extenuating circumstances in Biden’s case that don’t exist in Trump’s. The European Union and the International Monetary Fund wanted Shokin out not because they thought he was too aggressively investigating corruption, but quite the opposite: they didn’t think he was investigating it aggressively enough. Ukrainian activists like Daria Kaleniuk of the Anti-Corruption Action Center in Kiev, Ukraine’s capital, also thought Shokin was an impediment, not a help, to the fight against Ukraine’s endemic corruption. “Civil society organizations in Ukraine were pressing for his resignation,” Kaleniuk told Subramanian, “but no one would have cared if there had not been voices from outside this country calling on him to go.”
But as the old expression goes, “When you’re explainin’, you ain’t campaignin’.” If Joe Biden is the Democratic nominee, every Republican and Republican-leaning opinion outlet, including talk radio and Fox News, will be hammering away at the argument that the Democrats are being total hypocrites, impeaching Trump and threatening to remove him from office for something it was Biden, not Trump, who did. Already Viktor Shokin has written letters and sent them to Republican political operatives, and it would not surprise me at all if Shokin either appears in Republican campaign videos (like the “documentary” Rudy Giuliani was just in Ukraine shooting) or, worse yet, comes to the U.S. and appears on stage with Trump to finger Biden as the “real” culprit in attempting to influence Ukraine for his own personal advantage.
Despite their plethora of candidates, the Democrats at this point have no one running who has a real chance of unseating Trump. If they nominate Joe Biden, the Republicans will destroy him over his own dealings with Ukraine and whatever else they can dig up in his past and that of his family (including Hunter’s history of alcohol and drug abuse, which already got cited by Republican Congressmember Matt Gaetz in the impeachment hearings). If they nominate Bernie Sanders or Elizabeth Warren, Wall Street and the other members of America’s 1 percent, who regard Sanders and Warren as existential threats, will either sit the election out or actively support Trump. It will be 1972 all over again: an early moderate front-runner done in by Republican dirty tricks and a progressive nominee crushed by the real power centers in American society.
Hence the panic among corporate-friendly Democrats and their desperate search for a new candidate — including the emergence of Michael Bloomberg as at least the third mega-rich nominal Democrat (after Tom Steyer and Andrew Yang) who’s trying to buy the nomination with his own personal fortune. The irony is that we know the kind of Democrat who’s been able to win Presidential elections since the Right-wing realignment of 1968 from the three people who have — Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton and Barack Obama — and yet no one like that is running this year.
Carter, Clinton and Obama had several things in common. They were all relatively young, good-looking and charismatic, but they had substantial political experience in important positions: Carter and Clinton as state governors and Obama as a U.S. Senator. They all had the knack of making themselves seem more progressive than they really were: they looked progressive enough to appeal to young voters but not so progressive as to scare Wall Street and unite the super-rich against them. They were all able to carry at least some Southern states: Carter and Clinton by being white Southerners themselves and Obama, in the years before the U.S. Supreme Court eviscerated the Voting Rights Act, by getting enough African-American voters to overcome the Democrats’ ongoing disadvantage among Southern whites.
You see anybody like that in the Democratic race today? I sure don’t. (Sorry, Pete Buttigieg, but being mayor of a small college town in Indiana doesn’t count as substantial political experience.) Frankly, I was hoping Virginia Senator Tim Kaine would run — he was Hillary Clinton’s running mate but somehow managed to avoid being tainted by the scandals surrounding her, he helped make Virginia the one ex-Confederate state Trump didn’t carry in 2016, and while he’s not a hard-core progressive by any means he’s been progressive enough he could conceivably pull off the balancing act between moderate and progressive Democrats that helped elect Carter, Clinton and Obama. But Kaine became one of the few Democrats with a national reputation who didn’t announce for President in 2020, and without him or someone like him in the race Trump’s re-election is looking more and more likely every day.
And if Trump does win in 2020, goodbye to American democracy. The U.S. will likely join the growing list of countries run by what I call “Dark Nationalists,” dictators who take power in constitutionally legitimate ways but then rule basically as autocrats, abolish all avenues for political dissent, launch openly discriminatory campaigns against minorities, foreigners and anyone else they don’t consider “truly _____ ” (insert name of country here). The list includes big countries like Russia, India, Brazil and (since its most recent election) Great Britain, as well as smaller but still important countries like Turkey, Hungary, Poland and the Philippines. Trump’s re-election would pave the way for a new world order in which the U.S. and Russia would be fast allies, spreading the gospel of anti-democracy around the world and supporting fellow Dark Nationalists in France, Germany and any other nation with the right level of social discontent.
Impeaching Trump will only make this bleak future more likely. It’s true that it’s not clear just what alternative they had: not impeaching Trump for at least one of his seemingly endless series of violations of the U.S. Constitution would send a signal that from now on, that sort of Presidential behavior is A-OK. The problem is that impeaching him and then losing the trial in the Senate — especially losing it to a phalanx of Republican opposition — will have the same result. Trump will proclaim the result as “a complete and total exoneration,” just as he did with the Mueller report, and ride it to either another narrow Electoral College victory (Trump could well become the first person elected President by the Electoral College while losing the popular vote twice) or — especially if the Democrats nominate Sanders or Warren and the ruling class mounts a no-holds-barred ideological offensive against them — a nationwide landslide.

And once a re-elected Trump starts abusing the powers of his office again — and he will — the Democrats will have nothing they can do to stop him. Trump will likely still own 2 ½ branches of the U.S. government: the Presidency, the Senate and the Supreme Court. The Supreme Court will likely rule in favor of Trump’s contention that he can declare absolute “executive privilege” and shield himself from any Congressional attempts to investigate him or hold him accountable. They won’t be able to impeach him again because such an attempt will have zero political credibility. The old saying goes, “When you strike at a king, be certain that you kill him.” The Democrats struck at Trump when there was no way they could kill him — and as a result, he will not only survive impeachment, he will be stronger for it.