I got a message this week I can't respond to. For all of my internal conflict over the decision to respond or not to, I know the right thing to do. But, in another life, with a different past, I know what I would say. And so, what I cannot say elsewhere I will say here.
Dear Mr. President,
On the day after election day, I started to hear a phrase tossed around to explain the disappointment with your Presidency and the Democrats' abysmal midterm performance. "Playing the cards they were dealt", the refrain insisted, indicating that a bad economy, high unemployment, or any number of political cards were the reason Democrats lost. As a poker player this metaphor rang falsely from the moment I heard it.
Because any card player worth their weight knows you don't play the cards you're dealt; you play the man across the table.
When Democrats lost this election it didn't feel, to me, like a problem with our cards versus theirs. Our positions, our issues, our records were better. We just got outplayed. Now, hearing, already, about compromises on the Bush tax cuts feel like the same tired tactics that have failed all legislative session long. Republicans are excellent poker players. They indicate a willingness to compromise, Democrats foolishly believe them and make concessions (and often lose the support of their base in the process,) and Republicans hold the line until they get what they want or no one gets anything at all. You'll push the definition of middle class to $500k a year or $1 million a year, and Republicans will ask for more. In the end, if you're very, very lucky, you'll get tax cuts renewed only on those making less than $5 million a year, but in all likelihood, they will be completely renewed.
Out-playing the Republicans now that they control the House means ignoring the cards we've been dealt. Ask for a bill renewing the tax cuts only for those making $250k or less or threaten to let them all expire. And veto anything in the middle. Raise or fold. Do not check. Do not call. Raise or fold. Forget about the polls, the media narrative, the conventional wisdom, and whatever other cards you think you've been dealt. Look at the man across the table. The question is not "is his hand stronger?" The question is always "can I convince him that his hand is weaker?"
Maybe gambling is not the most noble profession. And you might make the argument that governing is not a game, that people's lives and livelihoods are at stake. Ask any poker player going all-in with this week's grocery money- higher stakes require you to play well, not to play cautiously. The stakes are high. Forget the cards you were dealt and your moral objections to the way the game is played. Look at the (in this case, very orange) man across the table.
Mr. President, I think that your noble belief in bipartisanship is admirable. But I think it has to be on your terms. I also suspect you're a much better politician than you're willing to let on. You're facing two years of bleeding political capitol every round you lose until election day, or going all-in right now with these tax cuts.
The lesson here is that no one can control the cards they're dealt. Poker is, superficially, a game of luck. The reason that some people win the world series and others lose their lunch money is that good players learn to leverage what they can control; their own reactions, perceptions, confrontation. Good players know the cards change but the man across the table stays the same.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Showing posts with label political debate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label political debate. Show all posts
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Day 239- Comfort reading and baiting Glenn Beck fans
Dear Mr. President,
My friend and coworker wrote a short piece on the reliable pleasure of reading Kurt Vonnegut for our bookstore's blog. Comfort reading, returning to a familiar author for the needed reminder of why I read, is something I often find myself in need of. His post recalled my own affection for Vonnegut, and my sadness at his passing. Vonnegut's writing shaped the way that many of my generation approached the world; his humanism and his compassion are certainly things that I strive to emulate in my own life. As Jon Stewart told him once, he made adolescence bearable. Thinking about him today I couldn't help but wonder how he would feel about our country as it is now. How disappointed he might be with us, and how much easier and more absurd the horrible things would all seem if he were still here to comment on them.
If comfort reading is how I escape temporary frustrations with the written word, than I certainly spent my morning occupied with its political equivalent. Sometimes, when the political world gets too frustrating, too disgusting or too bleak, I turn to the familiar comfort and reliable entertainment of baiting Glenn Beck fans. It isn't a nice thing to do, I suppose, and probably not enough of an intellectual exercise to even make it good practice for real debate, but I feel like I'm allowed a certain amount of pleasure on what is definitely one of the toughest days I've had in a while. And so, when confronted with the question "how is Glenn Beck a racist?" by one of his groupies, I felt compelled to answer.
I think what comforts me about arguing with Beck's ilk is that it offers a clear opportunity to articulate my opinions and positions to a clear opponent. Beck's divisive, bigoted and ignorant rants are exactly the sort of thing I stand in opposition to. They are an affront to my values, a poison to our political discourse and one of the last havens for the idea that Real America is the birthright of the white, english-speaking, Judeo-Christian middle class. And, despite all of this, I still believe Beck has every right to say the hateful and stupid things that he says (even, unfortunately, in the historical shadow of much better men.) This feeling is a comforting reminder that I have not lost all perspective for the sake of my partisan beliefs. That I still see the struggle between Right and Left in ideological and not apocalyptic terms. In short, as petty as it may seem, I am merely reassuring myself that for all the comfort of a clearly identified opponent, I have not yet sunk to his level. That Mr. Vonnegut taught me well, and his lessons have not been drown out by my impassioned, emotional reactions.
So much of my time discussing politics feels like war. Two (or more) sides stubbornly entrenched and unwilling to even consider their opposition to be human. Willfully entering a fight like this, just to remind myself that it can be fun, keeps me from sinking into the combative mentality too deeply. Maybe that's unforgivably smug and self-satisfied. I think, so long as Mr. Beck enjoys the right to keep spewing his nonsense, I will enjoy my right to challenge those who are buying into it.
I hope that tomorrow doesn't devolve into something really awful, that Mr. Beck and his supporters remember the great men who stood in that place before them and act accordingly. If not, well, as Mr. Vonnegut said, so it goes.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
My friend and coworker wrote a short piece on the reliable pleasure of reading Kurt Vonnegut for our bookstore's blog. Comfort reading, returning to a familiar author for the needed reminder of why I read, is something I often find myself in need of. His post recalled my own affection for Vonnegut, and my sadness at his passing. Vonnegut's writing shaped the way that many of my generation approached the world; his humanism and his compassion are certainly things that I strive to emulate in my own life. As Jon Stewart told him once, he made adolescence bearable. Thinking about him today I couldn't help but wonder how he would feel about our country as it is now. How disappointed he might be with us, and how much easier and more absurd the horrible things would all seem if he were still here to comment on them.
If comfort reading is how I escape temporary frustrations with the written word, than I certainly spent my morning occupied with its political equivalent. Sometimes, when the political world gets too frustrating, too disgusting or too bleak, I turn to the familiar comfort and reliable entertainment of baiting Glenn Beck fans. It isn't a nice thing to do, I suppose, and probably not enough of an intellectual exercise to even make it good practice for real debate, but I feel like I'm allowed a certain amount of pleasure on what is definitely one of the toughest days I've had in a while. And so, when confronted with the question "how is Glenn Beck a racist?" by one of his groupies, I felt compelled to answer.
I think what comforts me about arguing with Beck's ilk is that it offers a clear opportunity to articulate my opinions and positions to a clear opponent. Beck's divisive, bigoted and ignorant rants are exactly the sort of thing I stand in opposition to. They are an affront to my values, a poison to our political discourse and one of the last havens for the idea that Real America is the birthright of the white, english-speaking, Judeo-Christian middle class. And, despite all of this, I still believe Beck has every right to say the hateful and stupid things that he says (even, unfortunately, in the historical shadow of much better men.) This feeling is a comforting reminder that I have not lost all perspective for the sake of my partisan beliefs. That I still see the struggle between Right and Left in ideological and not apocalyptic terms. In short, as petty as it may seem, I am merely reassuring myself that for all the comfort of a clearly identified opponent, I have not yet sunk to his level. That Mr. Vonnegut taught me well, and his lessons have not been drown out by my impassioned, emotional reactions.
So much of my time discussing politics feels like war. Two (or more) sides stubbornly entrenched and unwilling to even consider their opposition to be human. Willfully entering a fight like this, just to remind myself that it can be fun, keeps me from sinking into the combative mentality too deeply. Maybe that's unforgivably smug and self-satisfied. I think, so long as Mr. Beck enjoys the right to keep spewing his nonsense, I will enjoy my right to challenge those who are buying into it.
I hope that tomorrow doesn't devolve into something really awful, that Mr. Beck and his supporters remember the great men who stood in that place before them and act accordingly. If not, well, as Mr. Vonnegut said, so it goes.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
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