GRACE IN POLITICS? WHAT’S NEXT, HONESTY?
Did you notice something unusual about Vice President-elect Mike Pence’s response to getting a lecture from the cast at the end of a performance of the musical “Hamilton?”
It happens so seldom that you may not have recognized it, but given the opportunity to publicly press a grievance, Pence let the matter drop.
And there it fell. It was a cudgel that could have been used for days to beat down political rivals, generate sympathy from his own side and to raise money and Pence just left it there, as useless as a powdered wig at a monster truck rally.
It is the era of grievance politics and Pence, ahem, threw away his shot.
Brandon Dixon, who plays Aaron Burr in the play, silenced members of the audience booing Pence and explained to the Indiana governor that the cast members were “alarmed and anxious that your new administration will not protect us, our planet, our children, our parents or defend us and uphold our inalienable rights.”
In the crummy game of outrage cultivation that passes for politics in America today, this is perfect: the correct enemy (liberal, artistic elites), the correct setting (New York), the correct level of media interest (the hottest Broadway show in decades) and Pence was completely innocent in the confrontation.
For offenses far smaller, the political outrage perpetual motion machine has pumped out weeks and weeks of content until every hot take had turned cold, the clickbait pail was empty and every fundraising email scare had been sent.
But Pence unilaterally disarmed, even as the president-elect was showing him how it was done, demanding an apology from the cast of the “highly overrated” musical.
Why anyone would care to have an apology from complete strangers would be a mystery in real life. Why you would want one from “overrated” ones would be even more perplexing – at least outside of the world of politics.
Inside politics, which consumes and ever-larger portion of America’s bandwidth, it is no mystery. Every slight, real or perceived, is a weapon.
Imagine you’re on a college campus before Halloween and the air is heavy with portent. Over here are students awaiting the chance to be offended by sexist/racist/culturally appropriative/etc. costumes. Over there are the students who look forward to triggering the P.C. police and then being outraged at the repression. Both sides get what they want: attention and further confirmation about the awfulness of the other side.
It would be bad and sad enough if it were just campus craziness, but it is everywhere.
The cast of “Hamilton,” was certainly playing to type with its self-satisfied expression of indignation. And so too was the Trump supporter who interrupted a Chicago performance of the show to wryly observe: "We won! You Lost! Get over it! F**k you!"
This is what it sounds like when life imitates Twitter.
We all have lots and lots of feelings, but don’t act on them or even usually express them. And this is something we once adorably referred to as “civilization.”
Does the humming of the man on the train make you feel like beating him about the head and shoulders with your umbrella? Fine! Just keep your bumbershoot to yourself.
Did you just fall completely in love with the most heart-stoppingly gorgeous person to walk into the produce section at the Kroger? No worries! Just don’t climb over the pile of papayas to express your crush.
Do you find your children’s attempt to learn a new skill unintentionally hilarious? It’s cool! You’re a bad person, but you already knew that. Just keep laughing on the inside and nodding gravely on the outside.
What social media is teaching people is that their opinions matter. By and large, they do not. Almost never, in fact. Your brain is a Victoria Falls-sized outpouring of thoughts and insights. Most of it is of no value, even to you. This is why the aforementioned civilization long held that it was foolish and counterproductive to spout forth. It was considered better to keep your opinions to yourself as much as decency and safety would allow.
Now, Twitter asks you to “share your unpopular opinion” as a matter of personal liberation. Gee, thanks.
Feelings matter, especially the feelings of the people we love. When our happiness is dependent on the joys and sorrows of the people with whom we share our heart, feelings really matter.
What matters less are our opinions.
Opinions are luxury items. And you never ought to have more than you can afford.
Grace in politics? What's next, honesty? | Fox News
