Confessions on Living in a Political Echo Chamber

I was a first generation immigrant to the US in 1980.  In that year our  family of 4 underage kids, not counting the wife and I, migrated to No. California, in the scenic city of San Francisco.  We would stay in a small flat rented by my mother-in-law located close to downtown San Francisco.

We would spend a good part of 30 years living in the same area, aptly named the San Francisco Bay Area, a cluster of burgeoning cities and towns closely hugging the bay and the ocean,  that totally would have over 8 million residents.  Aside from the astounding views and climate, it was also a very affluent area.  Not surprisingly costs of living were very high, notably with regard to real estate and consumer prices.

Employment opportunities were mostly in the tourist trade and industry, though going further south was Silicon Valley which would soon burst into the world stage as the hotspot for IT and the computer industry and where tech jobs were plentiful.  It was ground zero for the tech  boom of the 90's.

With our limited initial options, we decided to stake our future in that former environment, the wife finding employment in the local banking industry and I worked in the premier hotel in the city.  Overall, our family life was not bad, though we constantly had to juggle our jobs with the many demands for the care needed for our young impressionable kids. 

And on my part, I wasted no time undertaking my needed familiarization with the environment we found ourselves in, from the economic, to the social and political, which we all found to be quite different from the ones we came from.

And on the political front, I singlehandedly tried to learn as much as I could, at ease with the knowledge that the kind of government and politics were not much different from the one in the old homeland.  So I soaked in as much as I could or was fed me – from books, newspapers and magazines, and media like radio and TV.  And of course, from first-hand exposure to political activities in our daily living and working lives.  For me personally, it was a quite liberating experience witnessing first hand governance in a first world milieu.

What was not easily discernible to me then was that subtly or unwittingly I was being indoctrinated to one particular ideology which so characterized the Bay Area. No doubt it was definitely very liberal, and at the same time, libertine.

All these stayed under the surface until such time when I decided to shift from private employment to government.   From that change one invariably realized the rigid community that one had thrusted himself into, where political dissent was not countenanced and everybody was expected to toe a certain ideological spiel that had to be followed strictly.  Obey or you have no place to go.  And this I found among my contemporaries, people who were mostly members of minority groups.  The year was 2000, when the Bush-Gore election fiasco exploded.

To cut the story short, one then realized that the entire bay area, which is a very significant part of the entire state, had transmogrified into one political voice, enforced by very committed ideologues who tolerated no dissent. It truly became one bailiwick for  liberal  ideas, much like its counterpart LA in the southern part.  What used to be a 50-50 state in ideology during the time of Reagan and earlier became a Democratic bastion ruled by its overlords.  So committed to liberal ideals and politicians that in many recent  elections, the other party stayed away from campaigning, or even putting up opposing candidates,  save in some political enclaves that were not yet converted.

Media became  its most committed and vociferous acolyte in the dogged pursuit of unchallenged influence and paramount power, endlessly promoting ways and means to advance the ideology.  And truly reflective of the politics in the area, San Francisco even became a one newspaper town, and the more popular radio talk-shows were of the liberal bent. 

In this echo chamber only one voice and command resonates and listeners or viewers were invariably sucked in to the maelstrom, me included. Initially it felt good, being aligned with the rest and finding affirmation in what one has come to believe as truths.  But we know that in such a stifling environment so much of the goodness of the rule of democracy and freedoms are threatened and relegated to minor roles.  And replaced with authoritarianism and in a real way, of a despotic rule of the few who control the levers of power and influence. 

Continuing to subsist there simply means being subtly held in those beliefs.  After all, most ideas from whichever sides, including extreme liberal ideas were meant for the amelioration of the common good.  At least, that was how it was always phrased in official declarations. 

One desiring alternative voices will have to dig deep and far to find them, as scarce as finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

And this I had to do to begin my enlightenment or simply broadening my views  in politics.  One then learned to be discerning and discriminating in sources of news and information, media outlets, etc.  Media had become very partisan and could not be relied because while certain facts were withheld from dissemination, others were massaged to adhere to certain narratives promoting  the liberal ideologies.

And it was  a very liberating feeling to be able to think freely from a distance, examining other ideologies and being informed with sufficiently diverse  knowledge to make informed decisions.

It does take a lot of determination and effort  to be able to do this, more challenging than to be simply part of a faceless crowd chanting the same slogans which is definitely an easier path  to tread. 

A motto borrowed from one Jesuit school lectures us that, Veritas Liberat Vos.

The truth shall set you free.

  

Trump One: Epilogue?

  

In the end the solitary outlier stood lonely amidst a desolate landscape, abandoned by many of his supposed allies.  And more wantonly condemned not only by his political adversaries, but also mocked in the harshest terms possible even by those who were nestled comfortably in their well-appointed and heated abodes, people who would not be caught voicing out any mild expletive against their loved ones.  Or we doubt raised voices and action in support of the hapless plight of their neighbors.  Avowed Christians and other religionists who would be wont to kneel before their gods pleading in the humblest of terms and modes for forgiveness of their own shortcomings and misdeeds. How so ironic, indeed.

But I do believe that the outlier continues to inhabit the higher ground, promising to guarantee a peaceful transition after the last nail to his pleadings has been driven through.  This to the utter dismay and consternation of his many detractors, and they are countless, who had wanted to witness violent physical harm done on him.  They would have adored that.  But no such luck.  Because now like it or not, after all the possible legal remedies opened to Trump have been explored and exploited, he has expressed his desire to follow through with the peaceful process.  As he had previously intended and expressed.  He continues to be adamant and will not accept the verdict, but he will submit himself to the peaceful process.

But was it all for naught?  From this point of view, not in the least.  Because of his efforts the following unseemly topics of conversation have been brought to the forefront, ugly and damning.  Whether for good or naught, will depend largely on the coming months and years.  BTW, count on him to continue being in the public limelight.  So to those who continue to be bothered by his presence, he will continue to be a thorn on the side. Include here the millions who will continue to be on his side, no matter how hard the powers that be try to silence them.

Now we know and we doubt any right-thinking person denies it, that electoral fraud has been a long-time housemate in the complicated electoral system.  The question simply is how big?  Given the known widespread extent, the very intuitive advanced technologies and schemes used, the unlimited resources deployed to engage and harness such nefarious plans, the many ways used by big tech to sway and censor opinions, that may be one formidable task. 

But this we are sure. Now we know about Dominion and Smartmatic electronic systems that have been in used in other parts of the world for clandestine purposes.  Now we know about how extensive and influential dark money has been deployed to manipulate elections, appealing and catering to man's innate love of money and greed.  Now we have timelessly seen and heard the very dark underbellies of US media and the affluent elites, in their biased partisanship inside their one big collective bubble.  Now we know that the US as a country is heading toward a very powerful big-government status, lorded over with one voice coming from a coterie of the high and powerful - media, big tech, Wall Street, academia, and yes, the Democratic Party.

Watch it as it is unfolding right now in your closest neighborhoods. Start with the most recent Georgia run-off Senate elections where many were surprised that the state suddenly turned blue.  Not when the same machinery and resources deployed during the last elections were similarly applied.  Now that power has control of both houses and the executive department. And if the projected plan to "pack " the Supreme Court finds reality, the levers of the three (3) levels of government will clearly be in the hands of that juggernaut. 

As they are wont to say when they want to change long-held and enduring standards and practices, we need to bring these novel things into our conversation.  So now, let the conversations begin. 

A MINOR CLASH OF CIVILIZATIONS, OR SIMPLY, DIFFERENCES IN MORAL VALUES?

This has been bubbling underneath for quite a while, more like for the last 65 years.  And it is still as fresh and intense as the earliest period when all this unraveled. It had stayed uninvited in my mind all this time, kept stowed in the back burner but at times surfacing and loitering in my waking hours.

First let us line up the protagonists, or the actors in this bit of melodrama.  The dominant player one could say was a young Jesuit scholastic coming from the mighty US of A, who had nobly volunteered to spend time and service in the Philippines, far away and quite removed from the progress and development enjoyed in his blessed country.  Inspired we surmised with the gallant purpose of bringing good American education and the words of the Gospels to a fledging country that had leaned decidedly Christian Catholic.

On the other side would be me, middle child of nine siblings, quite timid and overly introverted; keeping pretty much to myself though possessed of a mind that was ever on high gear daydreaming or thinking fanciful things about the world.  And thus I had always asked the intriguing question: Does timidity encourage bouts of fantasy role-playing?

The two protagonists invariably meet almost in an inadvertent way.  I did not ask to be born and at the very least, he was unaware of what he was getting into, other than what he had understood about his own culture and morality.  And of course, he was on a life mission that was noble and commendable.

While my milieu and the particular circumstances that nurtured me would create the kind of person I would grow up to be, he had spent time growing up in a somewhat idealized way, raised by Catholic parents and in very empowered working class setting, and educated in the rigid Catholic tradition up to his college years.  Equipped we suppose of the moral tools and habits designed to produce other good Catholic kids, even those coming from different backgrounds.   Like kids like me.

Anyway he came to my life as a HS junior, a time when I was pretty much left to my own devices and at that time beginning to show nonchalance and listlessness about the formal education process. And I had instead taken easy interest in being part of a close-knit group of my own contemporaries and school mates.  Feeling comfortable in an existence with minimal structure and boundaries, which were not judged necessarily bad or good.  Just enough to get by and stay out of trouble in general.  And liberally free from many constricting rules to follow and keep.

That was the externality of that existence, because inside I had countless daydreams that occupied me and somehow desired some realization or fulfillment.  Dreams of being looked up to because of certain skills and smarts, like possessed of good writing skills, looking physically good, with admirable skills in public acting, singing, and orating.  And more, as gleaned and captivated by the celluloid idols of my days. In that world, it seemed that traditional moral issues were not only practiced selectively but some maybe frozen in time. So it was deemed okay to take some available shortcuts to arrive at certain results. And this applied even to regular school work.

So did not think much about plagiarizing English translations of Latin passages from a kept-secret book borrowed from the library, or imitating writing styles or words from some articles read, etc.  Or justifying keeping stuff found simply dismissing them as rewards under the catch-all justification, finders keepers.  Or taking small things without asking. Any small thing to gain advantage and insignificant enough not to raise any tinge of conscience. In short, somewhat morally ambivalent with regard to small stuff which in my mind then did not really mean much.

With almost dull cadence I went through my high school days in some kind of mindless but directed  existence.  Insufferably doing just enough to pass through schooling, though trying to excel at a few endeavors that I considered I could make something out of.

That kind of dull existence led to less than satisfactory school work, which did not really faze me, nor meant anything much to me.  School at that stage was simply a process that I tolerated.  Not really thinking about it as part of a greater future.  But who cared.

Anyway, one day a few weeks before the end of school as things were being wrapped, I received an unexpected surprise in my young timid life.  I received back a regular notebook where we wrote translations of our Latin textbook, and submitted regularly for grading by the teacher.  On the empty page where the last translation work ended were emblazoned the following words coming from the teacher:  This is to certify that Amadeo V. Neri, Jr. is a complete failure for the year.  And signed in full by the author.  No explanation.  My world dropped and got so aimlessly stunned I did not know how to react.

Kept the notebook to myself, and showed it only to my mates in our gang.  Made no move and was not made to account for it by the teacher.  While we continued to meet casually, no mention from either of us of the incident was made.  The  year ended and I did get a passing grade for that Latin subject.  The crux of that matter may have been that the prior year I received a silver medal for being the best in Latin.  That probably triggered the outright consternation and condemnation.  This thorn was necessarily in the forefront for another year since I still had to go through senior year of HS, which year got progressively worse.  But who cared.   In short, I made it through HS, though because of shortcomings was not allowed to go through graduation exercises.  But who cared.

And I find that over the years whatever few talents I have discovered in me I have tried to explore and exploit in all possible ways. Like in drawing, in writing, and most everything else I do I do with the end in view of making sure that I project my best efforts.  Resolving to bring out my best in the tasks I do, like in work or simply in living my life as a single person and as father of a family.  This in a way tells me and people too that I always try to bring out the best in me in whatever I do, and have been doing this on my own and in the best morally possible and decent way I know how.  

Though still certain available shortcuts may have been undertaken, it was always with the end in view of benefiting other people and not me.  The considered moral lapses are justified in my mind and thus am not troubled too much by conscience, though  when I was younger there was a point when I considered these lapses I could never justify.  And of course, the fear of being caught pushed hard on me.  However, I have been fortunate to not be caught in compromising situations, and had been able to justify that maybe that is God’s way of telling me to take it easy, though it is really not that bad.  Else I would have been punished early on.  Still this troubles me and gnaws at me, making me more tentative or fearful in engaging in such lapses.  Though I have been very careful and deliberate when I think and decide on these things, and allow time and effort to lapse and slow down before actually doing it.

In later years most of the earlier issues would change as maturity or awakening started to take hold.  And I would turn out to be almost like a different person after those intervening years.  And as I far as I knew we both would go our own separate ways.  Learned that my erstwhile mentor would continue his work in the homeland, and would actually spend his last years there.  He had been aside from more assignments in other Jesuit schools in the Philippines become focused in giving spiritual retreats, which are very important exercises in the Jesuit schools and communities.  He had written several books on the subjects relevant to them, and I had even acquired and read several of those books.

In the back of my mind I had always desired that one day I would like to talk to him about that forgotten traumatic incident in high school that remained hanging without proper explanation and closure all these years.  A possibly convenient occasion popped up when I learned that he was invited by another HS classmate to join us in our 50th reunion. Never got the chance since he failed to join us for the reunion, and I learned that some months later that he had quietly passed on in his adopted homeland.

So any closure to be done at this stage would remain to be virtual and alas, just a figment of the imagination. 

And there may be a couple more that I am working on, working toward unraveling them and seeking closure.

And this we need to do till we breathe last.

 

Trump After Trump

 

Wouldn’t it be artful irony, or even karmic revenge, if in the next four years Trump with his ubiquitous presence, memory, or as they say, his “antics”, would continue to reside in the inert wakefulness of all those who deride and loathe him?  Enjoying free and permanent lease inside their heads?  Though he typically wastes no time in responding to any criticism leveled at him, we know Trump has been masterful taking such unkind offerings in good stride.

It seems only fair for this to ensue.  After all the four years of the Trump presidency have been characterized by the numerous and incessant gauntlets thrown at him by his rabid opposition from all directions.  And not a single one stuck to convict him.

And no doubt whoever sits in the throne, the next four years will be one big truckload of daunting challenges from the resistant pandemic to the manifold global economic challenges. And at this stage, there is no discernible daylight at the end of the tunnel. Never mind the growing threats of bellicose intervention coming from the great powers. Failure therefore will be one calculated reality having a rightful place in any negotiating table, for those seated around it and tasked with the tough decisions to be made.

As we speak, even as they incessantly declare that Trump is in the dismal clutches of ignominious rebuffs on many legal fronts, he still is their main focus of criticism and derision, sparing no ink and paper in critique of a supposed gnat.  They seem not able to get enough of him.  And we know too well, how it is when thinking ill of another is one’s main preoccupation.  He who promotes it will likely suffer more than the target.  Such indignation will gnaw and eat away at the very core of those who promote them for a living.

And Trump, now emboldened by the solid following of half of the electorate will no doubt take chockfull advantage of that privilege.  Remember when he started his political life, even his own declared party did not accept him.  Even those who were socially allied disowned him.  This and what he had collectively accomplished prior to this debilitating pandemic, will no doubt accrue in his favor, giving him a sterling legacy to leave behind.  And overall, we no doubt will see that history will be kinder to this man.  It cannot be any other, given the facts as historical bases. It will be a depiction more reasonable and fair than what his many detractors are attributing to him now.

And in passing, we know they are all against Trump and whatever he was done.  Yet this late, we are still not seeing or knowing what exactly do they stand for.  Other than the lifelong devotion to the many narrow vested interests the unholy alliances of the cadre of oligarchs, tech elites, media pundits, even socialist anarchists, etc. are committed to and for which the public undoubtedly do not really care for or about.  Or if they do, they do not redound to any desirable benefit for them. The reason then, nobody is articulating what they stand for in terms of actual beneficial programs for the collective? 

And they have piously limited themselves to making motherhood statements about the good and welfare of the country, people, and politics.  All, white-wash paint sprayed on sepulchers!  Pregnant with verbosity, but very lean on actionable programs that could work.

Anyhow, all this will also pass into history, stowed in the past which will be forgotten by present generations.  But there will always be that hardy band of serious historians in the future who will exhume all this, if only to highlight the recidivist nature of man.  This 2020 election for all the hoopla it has generated will be most remembered for the massive and pervasive voter/electoral frauds inflicted on an aging system ripe for scavenging and/or collapse.  Unfortunately, the search for truth was not that sharp and keen to a languid generation weaned on instant gratification and satisfaction.  So let the sunlight shine another day! 

 

 

Man’s Many Uses of Literature

 

Even in this muddled day and age, the poet William Shakespeare continues to be   held in high affection for many reasons.  And it is no difficult task to cite a couple.

He was a great story-teller, creating stunning poetry of otherwise dreary real events that figured prominently in our history.  Secondly, the English language he wrote in was substantially enhanced by him via his prodigious skills as a wordsmith, creating over a thousand new words which have been zealously added to the lexicon.  With his contributions he truly enriched the language in very significant ways.

One could then delve into the frame of mind he wrote his immortal pieces.  Did he write for his own satisfaction and appreciation, or pride, displaying phenomenal skills not enjoyed by many?  In other words, did he write to express and pursue his deep passions for writing to enable him to see how far and how deeply he could develop such skills?  And in the process also revel in having produced notable pieces of art.  The utter joys of the beaming artisan in front of his own creation!

We are quite conversant with the intimate connections of literature with mysticism, embodying in both the author’s grand vision and ambitions, his consuming restlessness and dissatisfaction with life as lived.  Though he also finds joys and delight at the creative discoveries of his own handiwork.

Or did he write pursuing commercial ends?  Did he live an opulent style producing those beautiful poetic works?  This is highly doubtful, as well as I suppose for most noted writers of the past eras.

Or did he write essentially so other people would be able to read them and understand for the reasons he wrote them?  His many poetic works are truly beautiful uses of the written word. But can we be certain that our own interpretation of each of them jibes with the author’s?  How can we tell with certainty?  Or maybe just possibly?

One likes to believe that one other plausible reason he may have written his works in the ways he did was because he also wanted to find how people would comprehend him writing in the very unique and novel style that he had developed.  Like a riddle, he wanted to find out if indeed they could understand them for the same reasons he wrote them, writing in his own most personal and unusual style.  A style so unique and different from others, one could say he was peerless and thus stood alone in that one particular sphere.  And for this matter then, maybe every other poet of note and consequence also wrote with this one thing in mind, in a style so personal and unique there is no other like it.

In the realm of oral language, we talk about professionals who engage in the exposition and interpretation of body language, analyzing speech in the context of or in relation to their body movements.  Couldn’t one also use that to analyze the written works of poets and writers and derive some sense of why and how they wrote their works?  In other words, did their words as written convey any sense of purpose why they wrote them, or even whether their words reveal their mental state?  Many say that Edgar Allan Poe’s dark life somehow spilled over to his body of works.  Dark and dreary as we are inclined to feel in his notable works.

Or it could be as cut and dried as we are told that the reason El Greco painted the way he did was because he may have had problems of his vision making him see real images in odd symmetry.

The point to convey is that we cannot discount the fact that certain people may write for the purpose of trying to find out if their intended readers could comprehend their writings the way they were intended to.

It is also possible that people write in such a way that they can hide their true purposes for their work, as an exercise of shielding their own privacy with regard to certain things.  Thus, those people write stuff though available to the public but intended secretively only for their own personal purposes.

Thus, for those of us who write on a regular basis, and more than just weaving together several sentences at a time, but at least writing regularly essay length treatises, we can ask ourselves that question.  How and for what reason do we write?

I once wrote a very mundane piece on the local traffic and had primarily wanted to eschew actual conditions in unrealistic ways to depict how bad and frustrating traffic was to me personally. So a piece written with so much irony and tongue-in-check.  Or maybe even oozing a bit with sarcasm.

One perceptive anonymous commenter expressed that my attempt showed I was trying too hard so much so that the piece had instead totally failed as a serious commentary of a real-life situation.  In honesty, I took the critique graciously for truly I believe I can learn even more listening to those who read my pieces.  It was the anonymity that did not sit well with me, because it implied I could not take any criticism and would thus be irked.  But this was not the case.

Anyway, this is one clear instance when the reason one writes a piece is at cross-purposes with those who read it.  And I as the author could definitely say that the reader missed the point.  This illustrates the case I am trying to hypothesize regarding intended reasons why a piece is written.  And could only be known by the author.  Thus, possibly in an obtuse way, the author may be hiding the real purposes why he wrote.

I do at times write to test how or how deeply the reader would understand what I can trying to convey.  Thus, while it may not be too easily discernible upon first blush, the wished-for hope is that a serious rereading of the piece could expose the deeper intent embedded in the piece.

A piece written very straightforwardly or too declaratively may appear too blunt, or too rude, for those targeted.  The circumspection could help soften the at times caustic message.