Several media outlets recently reported that the teenage son of Arizona Senator Jeff Flake, whose given name is Tanner, used the screen name “n1ggerkiller” in an online game; he also posted YouTube comments using the word “nigger” and calling Mexicans “the scum of the Earth.” His Twitter account was littered with the word faggot, and he called a friend a “Jew” for stealing a joke.
According to a story in Slate, Nevada Rep. Joe Heck’s son Joey “posted equally stomach-turning comments to his Twitter account. In addition to his repeated use of “faggot” and “nigga,” he made anti-gay and anti-Mexican remarks, saying NFL quarterback “[Mark] Sanchez can hop the border faster than he can throw the ball” and retweeted “There are gays everywhere. Maybe that’s gods way of thinning out the population because faggots can’t have babies.” Being a politically minded young lad, he also commented that ABC’s Martha Raddatz should not have been a presidential debate moderator because she’s a woman and that Mitt Romney made Barack Obama his “slave” in a presidential debate. Heck also said that Obama’s main accomplishments as president were promoting the sports of “spear chucking and rock skipping. The sports they do in his home country…”
Both politicians were quick to disavow the posts, offering weak “boys will be boys” explanations, but as the article detailed, both Flake and Heck come from the fever swamp precincts of the GOP.
The apples, as we used to say, don’t fall far from the tree. Those of us who are parents are aware–often painfully aware–of the myriad ways in which our attitudes and language shape our children.
As the old song from South Pacific put it, “You have to be taught to hate.”
We all know that there are people like Flake and Heck, filled with animus, and twisted in ways that are hard to fathom. There have always been such people, and I assume there always will be. The more troubling question is: how do they get elected? Are the donors and voters who support them oblivious to these attitudes? Or do they share them?
When we hear the word “infrastructure,” most of us think of highways, bridges, airports, water mains….the physical apparatus built and paid for with tax dollars. And that’s accurate–so far as it goes. But most of us fail to recognize both the extent of the “public goods” we support and how essential they are to private enterprise.
In a recent issue of PA Times, the publication of the American Society for Public Administration (yes, I am a nerd), a contributor forcefully made the point that citizens are generally uninformed about the public goods they enjoy, and especially oblivious about how dependent they are on those goods. This expansive infrastructure is the “ecosystem” that supports commerce and business activity as well as our quality of life.
Elements of that ecosystem include clean air, clean public water supplies, street lights, food and drug safety, 911 services, police and fire protection, sewers and wastewater treatment facilities, interstate highways, education, national defense, a currency system, weather forecasting, disaster relief, registration systems for property, births and deaths, libraries, basic research and development, jogging trails, public parks, insurance of bank deposits, air traffic control, airports….the list goes on and on.
There is another “infrastructure” that makes civilization possible–the intellectual contributions of those who have gone before us. Today’s science and technology build on the discoveries of scientists long dead. We learn (okay, mostly we fail to learn) from the histories that have been recorded. We learn from research into the nature of our environments, both physical and social, and into experiments that have succeeded and failed. Etc.
I suppose it’s human to minimize the immense debt we owe to those who have provided the assets upon which even the most “self-made” build. But candidly, I find the preening “look at what I did all by myself” folks pretty insufferable.
And I find those who are unwilling to support that infrastructure, unwilling to “pay their dues,” immoral.
Remember that old bumper sticker that said something along the lines of “When they threw God out of the classroom, guns came in”?
Florida media report that police have broken up a stolen gun sales ring. it was operating out of Martin County, Florida’s Community Christian School.
“Investigators went to the school and following several interviews, determined that one student had burglarized a home on six different occasions and stole five weapons from a safe.”
Money quote: The school is “praying for families who have been affected by this.”
I guess we should all be grateful the students involved weren’t left to the corrupting secular values of a public school classroom.
We are home after what was mostly a great vacation. The hospital in Nottingham released Bob in time for us to make our original flights, and the medication they gave him seems to be working, so all good news. Many thanks to those of you who expressed concern.
Still a bit jet-lagged, but by tomorrow our regular routine–and regular blogging–will recommence.
We had our first (only) encounter with Britain’s National Health Service yesterday.
Bob’s cough kept getting worse, despite the cough medicines and lozenges, and our granddaughter and her partner suggested we take him to one of the NHS’ Walk-In facilities. There were two nearby (we walked from our hotel).
When we got there, we took a number from a dispenser and sat in the waiting room. The system was that the people at the desk would call a number, and you would then register, explain what was wrong, etc., and wait to be called back to be seen. Our number was called almost immediately; when we described the problem, the very nice woman behind the desk put a monitor on Bob’s finger, pronounced his oxygen levels low, and said she was putting him at the “head of the queue.” (She also said that she very much regretted that she would have to charge us for service since we weren’t British. The cost was fifty pounds.)
Bob was called back within ten minutes to see a nurse practitioner. She took a history, examined him, and called an ambulance to take him to Nottingham University’s hospital. She said she might be “over-reacting a bit–I hope so” but “better safe than sorry.” The ambulance drivers were there almost immediately, and I went with him in the ambulance while our granddaughter and her partner drove separately. I can’t say enough about how efficient and caring the EMTs in the ambulance were. They were also very proud of the vehicle itself, which they explained was new, and certainly looked well-equipped to my untrained eye.
We were taken to emergency (they call it A and E, for Accident and Emergency). Again, we were impressed with the efficiency of the process; first, an evaluation and a number of lab tests, then further tests based upon the initial results. Throughout the (very long) day, personnel kept us informed of where we were in the process, why they were doing what they were doing, etc.
The concern was that he was having a pulmonary embolism. Thankfully, the scans ruled that out; however, what we thought was a bad cold (and what the ship’s doctor had shrugged off as a cold or allergy) turned out to be a heart problem that has evidently been developing for some time and had not been detected by his cardiologist on his visit a week before our trip. The doctor explained that his symptoms were the result of fluid accumulation–probably the result of unusual activity on the trip. He was admitted for a short stay so that they can eliminate the additional fluid and he can safely fly home. (Only then were we asked whether we had insurance; a nurse took our information and nothing more was said about payment.)
To say that we had a stressful day would be an understatement. I extended our hotel booking in Nottingham and my son managed to change our flight home from tomorrow to Saturday (unfortunately, we lost those first-class seats we’d used our frequent-flyer miles to secure..). My granddaughter and her wonderful partner pretty much saved what sanity I managed to retain. So at this point at least, it looks to be an “all’s well that ends not so badly” situation.
When you live with an 80-year-old husband with heart problems, you see the inside of a lot of emergency rooms and hospitals. I don’t know whether my experience yesterday was representative, but I was very impressed with the efficiency and thoroughness with which Bob was treated. There were adequate numbers of personnel, and they were unfailingly pleasant and responsive. Our waits were for lab results. Doctors and nurses took time to ask questions and listen carefully…I really could not have asked for better or more reassuring care.
The systemic differences between my previous experiences at home and here really boiled down to two: 1) The clinic and hospital were both in old buildings and certainly didn’t have the physical amenities/decor of most American hospitals. They were clean and well-equipped, but not the sort of plush environments we generally encounter in the U.S. 2) At home, unless he was having a heart attack, treatment wouldn’t have commenced until payment had been arranged–I always check him in by providing insurance information, etc.
As academics like to say, anecdotes aren’t data. But my anecdote says lots of good things about the NHS.
