Explaining and Losing

When my father first ran for the U.S. Senate in 1992, his Democratic opponent was a congressman named Wayne Owens, who had been caught up in the House Post Office Scandal. (You’ve probably forgotten about that. It was a big brouhaha back in the day, but measured against 21st Century political sleaze, it seems almost quaint.) Owens spent the entire campaign playing defense and trying to justify why he had mishandled taxpayer money to his own benefit. His stump speech began with an apology and was followed by a lengthy explanation before he could proceed to any sort of positive message. 

For his part, Dad never brought up the issue at all. “I don’t need to,” he said. “Regardless of what I say, Wayne has to explain himself. And when you’re explaining, you’re losing.”

That bit of political wisdom has stuck with me, and it proved to be all too true when Dad ran unsuccessfully for a fourth term in 2010. He had been one of the primary architects of the Troubled Asset Relief Program (TARP) that staved off a worldwide financial meltdown and without costing taxpayers a dime, since all the money was repaid – with interest. If you listened to Dad’s very cogent explanation, you would understand what he did and why he did it, and you may actually be convinced that he did the right thing. But the substance of his explanation ultimately didn’t matter. When he was defeated in the state convention, chants of “TARP! TARP! TARP!” filled the hall. The fact that he spent his whole campaign explaining was clear evidence that he was losing. 

I offer this as context for a better understanding of how to process the bombshell news that the FBI is looking at emails discovered on Anthony Weiner’s laptop. (Which is icky in and of itself. Who wants to even think about anything that may or may not have been on Anthony Weiner’s lap?!) When the news broke, my FB feed exploded with indignation, followed by explanation. 

People were furious that my congressman, Jason Chaffetz, had tweeted that the email investigation had been “reopened.” That single word triggered a great deal of outrage, although I’m still not sure why. Yes, technically, the case hasn’t been reopened, mainly because it was never closed. So how is pursuing a new lead in an open case somehow less troubling than reopening an old one? 

Regardless, there was also a bunch of people and articles insisting that this letter was being misinterpreted, and one article went so far as to claim that the scandal “has been killed by a slew of new facts,” including the so-called “fact” that the newly-discovered emails “have nothing to do with Hillary Clinton.” (If that’s true, you’d think someone would tell Hillary Clinton, who very clearly thinks these emails have something to do with her.) One FB friend insisted that Comey’s letter wasn’t referring to Hillary’s case at all, and every media organization was simply reading it wrong. Again, shouldn’t Hillary be informed of this? Because she’s reading it wrong, too, right? 

And on it goes. Some of the explanations are cogent; some are silly. But the substance of the explanations is irrelevant. It doesn’t matter if what your explanation is sagacious or stupid. What matters is that you’re explaining. 

And when you’re explaining, you’re losing. 

So here’s how I see the race at this point. 

When the Access Hollywood groping tape came out, everyone, including me, assumed Trump was done. (Although I was surprised at the intensity of the public reaction, as all this tape did was confirm that Trump is precisely the sort of misogynist pig he reveals himself to be almost every time he opens his mouth.) 

Then came the legion of Trump’s accusers, and Trump went on an explanation tour, trying to debunk the women saying that Trump did all the things he said on tape that he did. Again, if you apply my father’s axiom, it doesn’t matter whether or not Trump’s explanations were valid. He was explaining, and he was losing. The media spotlight was on Trump’s squirming, which meant that many of the truly troublesome Wikileaks info we were getting about Hillary was going unnoticed. Sure, Trump would try to get Hillary to explain herself, but nobody cared, so Hillary was winning because she wasn’t forced to explain anything. 

What this letter has done is move the spotlight from Trump to Clinton, and now it’s Hillary’s turn to squirm. (And may I say that watching a Clinton squirm gives me a schadenfreude sugar rush.) This means that the person on defense in the final runup to Election Day is Clinton, not Trump. That’s not a good place to be. 

Does that mean I think Hillary will lose the election? No, not necessarily. I don’t know or pretend to know the extent of the damage done here, and I don’t think anyone else does, either. I do know that detailed rebuttals, or cries of “This is unfair!” or calls for James Comey’s head won’t make the slightest bit of difference. Those are all just more losing explanations. 

I will say that I think this email scandal, as well as all the Wikileaks bombshells currently being ignored, will linger well past November, regardless of who wins. I can imagine voters who despise both candidates looking at the possibility of another Clinton era, complete with old and new scandals bubbling up on an almost daily basis, and thinking a vote for Trump might be the best way to avoid four years of endless and pointless investigations. Clinton fatigue is a rational response to the tiresome antics of a couple who have devoted their lives to normalizing corruption.

You may disagree. Indeed, you may have a host of explanations for why I’m dead wrong. By all means, start explaining, and see where it gets you. 

Oh! Right! I shall change it forthwith…

Iowa Narratives

It’s all about “narratives.”

What happened last night in Iowa matters far less than the stories that are being told about it. Santorum pulled off a stunning upset? Mitt failed to meet/met/exceeded expectations? Ron Paul is a contender/a joke/a spoiler? Which of these narratives will harden into “the” narrative that will define the race going forward?

Here are a few tales being told that deserve our attention:

Narrative 1: The Romney Ceiling

Kellyanne Conway was on TV last night saying, breathlessly, that “this proves that the Romney Ceiling is real.” One commenter over at Lucianne.com refers to Mitt as “Romney25,” explaining that the former governor is incapable of getting more than 25% of the vote in any situation.

This is a crock.

Romney is about 25 points ahead of his nearest rival in New Hampshire, a state which has no appetite to rubber stamp the preferences of Iowan, Mormon-hating evangelicals. Nothing that happened last night will erode Mitt’s considerable lead, and the “Romney Ceiling” will come shattering down, which will have Kellyanne and others insisting that New Hampshire doesn’t really count.

Narrative 2: Santorum Is Now a Real Contender

No, he isn’t. He is simply the latest repository of votes for people who can’t stand Mitt, especially those who hate Mormons. Yes, he was lucky enough to have his surge coincide with actual voting, and he will likely collapse under the same scrutiny that sank previous flashes in the pan. He has no money and no organization, and he’s going to lose big in New Hampshire.

Recall that Mike Huckabee won Iowa, too. After McCain stomped everyone in New Hampshire, Huckabee was done, despite being far more prepared, financially and organizationally, to conduct a nationwide campaign than Santorum is.

Narrative 3: Last Night = Bad Night for Mitt

That’s only true if this narrative takes hold. Remember, Mitt’s initial plan was to skip Iowa, where the anti-Mormon dynamics that created the Huckabeast are still in full force. Yet without any campaigning, he was still at the top of most polls, and it was only about two months ago that he decided to seriously compete. He won this thing – yes, by only eight votes, but that’s better than losing by eight votes – with about a tenth of the time, people, and money he sank into it four years ago.

The issue here is expectations. Mitt’s people unsuccessfully tried to downplay his chances, but expectations were raised despite the Romney campaign’s best efforts. Given the heavy evangelical vote, it is impossible to imagine Mitt doing any better in Iowa than he did. The fact that he did it with so little effort is almost miraculous. That’s my narrative, and I’m sticking to it.

Narrative 4: Romney Can’t Lose

Of course he can. He’s going to lose South Carolina, for instance – no way a Mormon can survive there. South Carolina, unlike Iowa, is usually representative of who gets the nomination. If Santorum can survive a devastating loss in New Hampshire and come back to win South Carolina, then it’s easy to imagine a long, hard slog to the nomination. I don’t think Mitt will lose, as he is easily the best equipped to survive a long, hard slog, but a lot can happen between now and then. Plus Gingrich is out for blood, although I think he’s now something of a spent force.

Narrative 5: Mitt Romney Stole The Victory

This was the first thing out of Rush Limbaugh’s mouth this morning, and it’s utter poppycock. According to Rush, Mitt and the “establishment” held the totals in two counties to make sure that Mitt would win by eight instead of losing by five. First off, how did Mitt do that? Second, why would he do it? Did he know that he would be able to pull of a tiny victory with literally a handful of votes? Does he have two counties on the payroll? If he’s going to steal the thing via fraud, why couldn’t he pull off a bigger margin than eight measly ballots?

Incidentally, all the talk of the Republican “establishment” always strikes me as ridiculous. Who’s pulling the strings in this “establishment,” and why are Rush and Glenn Beck and Newt Gingrich and Rick Santorum not in it? Is the establishment simply Karl Rove with a bunch of winged monkeys?

So here’s my narrative.

Narrative El Stallion: Mitt Romney Wins the Nomination and Loses the Election

Mitt will win the nomination – maybe quickly, more likely after a long slog – because the Republicans don’t have anybody else. Bachmann’s gone, but Rick Perry is apparently staying in the race, which is nice, because Perry and Gingrich may be able to dilute Santorum’s likely South Carolina win and weaken him for the slog.

And then Mitt loses to Obama, mainly due to the fact that a Mormon can’t win a general election. I state that not to be a victim, but rather as a recognition of reality. The Mormon thing matters, and nobody wants to talk about how much. But both Iowa and South Carolina provide plentiful evidence that there are oodles of evangelical voters who would rather suffer through four more years of Obama than legitimize the LDS Church by putting someone from such an alien cult into the White House.

Golly. And you all thought this narrative would have a happy ending.

UPDATE: Intrade has Mitt with a 75% chance at winning the nomination vs. a 4% chance for Santorum. So much for the Santorum-the-Contender narrative.

UPDATE II: Newt was on the radio a minute ago complaining about the “establishment” and calling himself an “outsider.” Newt Gingrich is many things – a genius, an innovator, and, over the past few days, an insufferable whiner. An outsider he is not.

His current whining is particularly surprising. Oooooh, did the big bad Womney give you a boo-boo, Newtie? What on earth did you think Barack Obama would do to you if you became the nominee?

My Musicological, Scatological Christmas Gift

It’s that time of year, and I figure my dozens of loyal readers of this blog deserve a gift as compensation for your pain and suffering. Before you get it, however, please indulge me as I provide a little background.

Several months ago – 188 days ago, to be precise – I took the advice of many of you and put a bunch of my songs on iTunes and other online music stores. I created an album, titled it Stalker Tunes, gave it a weird, altered-Yul-face cover, and then uploaded a bunch of my demo tracks and waited for the money to roll in. I figured I should at least get enough to cover expenses, as it cost me $50 at tunecore.com to get my album online. I figured there were somebody might be interested, or maybe there were some weirdos who download goofy songs from albums that have Yul Brynner’s face on them.

To date, I’ve made 81 cents.

My song “I Am a Cow” has sold one copy on iTunes, and it’s streamed 14 times on Spotify, and I get a penny per stream. (Inexplicably, it seems especially popular in Great Britain, where one p is worth 1.5 cents!) My song “Avalon” has streamed once; “Bad Lovin’” has streamed once, and “Bright Yellow Can (The Mustard Song)” has streamed twice.

You may now refer to me as “Stallion Cornell, Professional Musician.”

Yes, yes, I know it’s not much, but I’m pretty sure I’ve made more money off of my music than Andrew Fullen – AKA Languatron – has made off of his books.  (Actually, that’s not true, as I bought one once in order to mock it, so he’s probably still ahead. But his publishing costs are probably higher, so it all evens out.)

So, given my unparalleled success as a musician, you should be intensely grateful for what I’m about to give you: free Stallion Cornell, Christmas-themed music! Huzzah!

In case you’re interested, much of the following tune was actually recorded on GarageBand for iPhone, which is a remarkable muscular little program. It only lets you record eight tracks, and you can’t get into the notation the way you can with the regular program, but it’s a great tool for the musician on the go. I actually recorded the tin whistle and harmonica solos while I was sitting in an accident-induced virtual parking lot on Interstate 15. yes, I know you’re not supposed to text and drive, but there’s no law against recording music while driving is there? Because, you know, there should be. (Honestly, we weren’t moving for about half an hour. I feel OK about this.)

You may have heard this tune via this blog or Facebook, but I’ve finally recorded a more professional version, which chronicles this story which has been told and retold numerous times. I keep waiting for Hollywood to come calling for the movie rights, but alas, it has not happened. Yet.

So, unless you decide to add a Stalker Tunes CD to your stocking/stalking, here’s your dose of Cornell for Christmas:

Your very own .mp3 of The Miracle of the Christmas Poo, free of charge.

(Click on it to play; right-click on the link to download. And Merry Christmas. And Happy Hanukkah. Kwanzaa can bite me.)

Mrs. Cornell’s Christmas Card/Thank You

We’re trying to send out Christmas cards/thank yous to everyone who was so supportive after our oldest daughter’s skiing accident this year. If you’d like a card, please send me a message at stallioncornell@yahoo.com with your address.

Below is the letter that the lovely Mrs. Cornell wrote to accompany the cards.

We’re trying to send out Christmas cards/thank you letters today to all of you wonderful people who helped us after Cleta’s accident, but we don’t have all of your addresses. If you’d like a card, please message me with your address. In any case, below is the message Laurel wrote to go along with the cards. Please know that we love you and miss you and are thinking of you this Christmas season. _________________

December 2011

Dear Loved Ones Everywhere,

I’ve been putting off sending thank you notes to all the many, many people that I need to send them to because I kept hoping to plan a big shebang that I could invite everyone to as a thank you. However, it’s now December and I haven’t done it, so I’m going to kill at least a couple of birds with one stone. I’m still going to plan that big shebang, so be looking for that invitation.

But until that happens…Thank you! Thank you to all of you that sent cards, drawings, emails, texts (I did get them all. I was just too overwhelmed to respond), cookies, candy, games, comfy socks, knitted hats, blankets, books, movies, letters, etc. Thank you to all of you who called Cleta and other members of our family (again, I did listen to the messages and was grateful for them). Thank you to everyone who supported the kids at my house by bringing in meals (it was very fun when a delivery car showed up with pizza ordered from California), taking them to practices, taking over my carpools, and just watching out for them. Thank you to all who came to the fundraiser. Thank you to a wonderful friend who organized that fundraiser. Thank you to all of Cleta’s friends and their parents who brought them up to the hospital. Thank you to all of our adult friends who also came up to the hospital. Thank you to the kind souls that waited with us during Cleta’s 5-hour surgery. Thank you to our wonderful neighbors who outdid themselves redoing Cleta’s bedroom (and Chloe’s) as a welcome home surprise. Thank you to the men who donated their time to make our home accessible to Cleta. Thank you to two wonderful Grandmas who dropped everything in their lives to take up residence here. And thank you to everyone who said a prayer for Cleta or for our family. They were felt.

So instead of listing the highlights of our year, I figured I’d list the top 5 lessons learned this year.

1. Obamacare isn’t all that bad. We just got our insurance renewal and it only went up by $50 a month. We immediately told our kids they could stop eating shoe leather.
2. Don’t wait until you’re rich to start giving generously to charities. Those charities hold the keys to the miracles that many people are waiting for.
3. Thank goodness for TLC (the TV network, that is). Cake Boss and Say Yes to the Dress can get you through a lot of long hospital nights.
4. Never let your kids, spouse, parents (and any other straggler that lives with you) leave the house without telling them you love them.
5. Never get a dog to try to de-stress your life. (Oh, did I mention we got a puppy in July???)
6. And never let a year go by without letting all the wonderful, magnificent, almost perfect people in your life know how much they mean to you.

We love you all and wish you the very best during this Christmas season and 2012.

Sincerely,

Stallion, Mrs. Cornell, Cleta, Chloe, Corbin, Cornelius, and Stalliondo Cornell

Another Mormon’s Take: Go Newt!

Orson Scott Card still considers himself a Democrat. Nobody else does, but there you are.

Regardless of what his party affiliation may be, he’s a stupendous writer who generally makes a whole lot of sense, and he’s also an active Latter-Day Saint besides. He’s written an opus on the same subject I did last time, and he recognizes the same things I did – namely, Newt produced solid results in the ’90s, and Mitt’s Mormonism makes him unelectable, even in comparison to Newt’s plethora of baggage. However, he reaches a vastly different conclusion: this is a good thing, and we ought to vote for Newt.

[I]f you Republicans actually want to get rid of Obama, stop looking at “true conservatives” — they won’t get the votes of independents and swing Democrats like me.

And don’t nominate Romney, either — he’s too fragile and, being a Mormon, too easy to tear down and destroy. The Left will be so glad to do it.

I think Gingrich is your best choice, because despite his negatives, there is nobody smarter or more capable or with a better record of good government seeking the office of President right now.

Interesting. Although it overlooks the reality that Newt will never be president. His baggage may be more tolerable to the evangelical base than Romney’s Mormonism, but said baggage still makes Newt unelectable in November.

The Republicans should win this one in a walk, and and yet they’re very, very close to throwing the whole thing away. It seems we don’t have anybody on the bench that can prevent four more years of Barack Obama, a good man who has proven to be the biggest failure of any president I’ve seen in my lifetime.

The moral of the story: politics blows.

Newt’s Lesson for Mormons

Newt? Really?

One of the reasons this is so surprising is that I actually like Newt. He’s undeniably brilliant; he’s reasonable, and he’s produced real, substantial, conservative solutions. Wildly successful welfare reform? That was all Newt. Balanced budget in the 90s? Newt again. Child tax credit? Capital gains tax cut? The first Republican majority since Eisenhower? Newt, Newt, and Newt.

Given how effective and mainstream the man has been, he should be anathema to the Tea Party zealots who have cycled through a series of nondescript clowns and finally settled on Newt as the current non-Romney candidate. The only other one left is Huntsman, and even the Tea Party isn’t dumb enough to go there.

I’ve actually met Newt. I found him to be bright, personable, and extraordinarily gracious. I’d be very comfortable with America being led by a President Gingrich.

But that’s the problem. America isn’t going to be led by a President Gingrich.

There is no possible way that Newt Gingrich can win a general election. Yes, he’s brilliant. He’s also a serial adulterer who has flipped and flopped on all the same stuff Mitt has, including Romneycare. He’s made global warming commercials with Nancy Pelosi; he’s earned millions from Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, and, perhaps most importantly, his quirky, brainy, and ofttimes prickly persona doesn’t wear well with Middle America.

Yet the Tea Party still prefers him to Mitt.

This is in spite of the fact that Gingrich is as much of a heretic on flashpoint conservative issues as Mitt is, and, on immigration, he’s even more so. He’s also indisputably a creature of Washington, which the Tea Party supposedly hates, and he’s even attacked Tea Party darling Paul Ryan for engaging in “right wing social engineering.”

And still, all of this is acceptable when compared to the Tea Party’s loathing of Mitt Romney.

I am forced into the unavoidable conclusion that Newt’s colossal personal and political baggage is not nearly as offensive to the Tea Party faithful as Mitt Romney’s Mormonism.

I hate to think that. I don’t like to consider myself a societal victim or a member of some kind of oppressed minority group. But if it’s not Mitt’s Mormonism, then what is it?

He’s a flip-flopper? So is Newt, and on the same issues as Mitt. He’s personally distant? So is Newt, and Mitt isn’t nearly as abrasive as Newt has often proven to be. He’s been faithful to his wife and lived his life without a whiff of personal scandal? Certainly Newt can’t say the same, but, then again, Newt can’t call himself a Mormon, either.

Four years ago, I was astonished by how deeply my faith was mistrusted by the evangelical wing of the Republican Party. In 2012, such mistrust is no longer fashionable, but that only means that it’s gone underground, not that it’s gone away. Tea Party zealots are certain to take that mistrust with them into the secure privacy of the voting booth.

Certainly all this flies in the face of the goals of the Utah Tea Party, which believes that Mormons are the ones who are going to save the Constitution as it’s hanging by a thread. Tea Party anti-Mormonism ought to give pause to Utah’s zealots, but it won’t. They’re either too deluded or just too damn stupid to notice that they have saddled themselves to an intolerant political movement that truly loathes them.

The bottom line, then, is that the Republicans are willing to nominate an unelectable candidate before they’re willing to nominate a Mormon. But that’s kind of a redundant statement, isn’t it? The lesson of Newt Gingrich’s unlikely rise in the polls is that a Mormon candidate is the most unelectable candidate of all.

Go Newt.

Why Do You Care So Much, Anyway?

Conversations about the Shakespeare Authorship Question with those who have not studied the issue are a very predictable, four-step CIFA process. They begin with:

1. CONTEMPT.
“You idiot! Of course Shakespeare wrote Shakespeare! Look at the name on the play! See what it says? It says ‘William Shakespeare’ right there! Who else would have written it, pinhead?”

Contempt is supposed to scare me off, but it doesn’t work. So then we move on to the next step:

2. INCREDULITY
“You really believe that? Really? Even though none of the smart, cool people believe that? How can you wake up in the morning and be so out of step with what the cool people believe?”

I end up pointing out that the incredulity isn’t much of an argument, which forces people to actually come up with something or leave me alone. If they manage to come up with something, we move on to:

3. FLACCIDITY
“Well, de Vere couldn’t have written the plays, because he was dead. So there.”

That may not be the argument they use, but it’s usually a one-sentence disgorgement of whatever measly, flaccid nugget of conventional wisdom they have at their disposal. At least it’s sort of an argument, but it’s always an argument that’s very easily refuted. Since their reasoning rests on a flimsy foundation, the final step is inevitably:

4. APATHY
“Who cares? We have the plays. Why does it matter who wrote them?

“Why do you care so much, anyway?”

That’s the question I want to address.

With regard to Shakespeare, the answer is that understanding the author vastly increases an understanding of the plays. Suddenly Shakespeare has context, history, a point of view. The traditional view of Shakespeare is vapid and confusing – apparently, this guy’s brain was a receiver for random broadcasts from the Muses, and he just channeled the plays and the poems without ever letting his own life or limitations get in the way.

In any case, I find it to be a fascinating topic which can yield a much deeper appreciation for the works Shakespeare left behind.

This post, however, is not really about Shakespeare. Surprise! It’s about Global Warming.

See, the CIFA method applies to all Global Warming arguments, too. (Who knew Global Warming and the Bard had so much in common?) Let us review. We begin with:

1. CONTEMPT
“Oh, you’re one of those Global Warming deniers. I’ll bet you don’t think the Holocaust happened, either. You make me sick.”

The word “denier” is filled with such contempt that it’s often very difficult to move past this stage. The problem is that the word “denier” is so intellectually dishonest that, from the outset, it has already sullied the dialogue almost beyond repair.

What, exactly, have I “denied?”

The Al Gore brand of global warming alarmism requires an acceptance of a whole litany of tenets, and uncertainty surrounding any one of them throws the whole preposterous theory out of whack. So slapping the “denier” label on anyone who raises any questions along the way effectively bundles the argument into a single, tidy, yes-or-no package. So either you think the globe has warmed unusually quickly due solely to humanity’s irreversible pollutionary damage and that massive governmental intervention to dismantle industrial society is the only solution, or you don’t.

Quibbling about any of the numerous details – is this rate of warming truly unusual in comparison to global history? Is mankind solely or even primarily responsible? What percentage is our fault? Is it irreversible? Would Cap-and-Trade or any other colossal government program fix the problem, or even put a dent in it? – earns you the “denier” label every step along the way.

But assuming you can move past the name calling, you get to:

2. INCREDULITY
“But look at how many scientists agree with us and not with you! You’re not a climate scientist – you’re not qualified to disagree! How can you go against the scientific consensus?!”

So many stupid assumptions here. The fact is that there is no scientific consensus on the entire “denier package,” i.e. the globe has warmed unusually quickly due solely to humanity’s irreversible pollutionary damage and massive governmental intervention to dismantle industrial society is the only solution. When you start to look at where the consensus is, the alarmist position unravels very quickly.

There is consensus that the globe has warmed a degree in the past century, yes. I’m fully in sync with that bit of consensus. But that’s really as far as it goes. Is that an unusual amount of warming for a century? No consensus. How much is mankind’s fault? The consensus seems to be that some of it is, but as to the exact amount, there’s no consensus. What’s the optimum global temperature we ought to be shooting for? No consensus whatsoever. Is it irreversible? No consensus.

So what about government intervention to fix it? Well, the consensus there is damningly clear – Cap-and-Trade and other proposed attempts to limit carbon emissions would have absolutely no effect on global temperatures, but many think we should still do them anyway as some sort of “first step.” That kind of thinking leaves me incredulous. But that doesn’t stop the argument from moving to:

3. FLACCIDITY
“Last year was the warmest year on record.”

Once “consensus” fails and it becomes clear that pretending to know what other, smarter people think doesn’t really address the question, it becomes time to unleash some select flaccid factoid that doesn’t really say anything, either, like the one I just quoted.

OK, just for kicks, what if last year was the warmest year on record? We’ve only been keeping records for about 100 years, and given technological limitations, those records don’t really become reliable until relatively recently. Does that mean it’s never been warmer in the history of the globe than it was last year? No, that’s clearly nonsense. Does that mean every year has been warmer than the last? No, that’s nonsense, too. In fact, even the “consensus” scientists are forced to concede that there’s been no discernable warming trend since 1998. So what we’re left with is a disputable “fact” that doesn’t provide any useful information at all. Which is why we move on to:

4. APATHY
“Why is this such a big deal to you? We all know we need to move to green energy in the long term, so it would be good to act as if we’re warming the globe even if there are still unanswered questions.

“Why do you care so much, anyway?”

And that, my friends, is the real question I want to answer.

Here’s why.

We have as many or more natural resources in this country than any other country on earth. We have enough oil in the oil shale in the western United States to fuel the world for generations. We’ve also got gobs of clean-burning coal, natural gas, and untapped reserves of conventional oil all over the place. If we were to develop all of that full bore, then, virtually overnight, we could kickstart this moribund economy, cut unemployment in half, slash gas prices by 2/3, free ourselves from dependence on foreign oil that too often comes from countries who hate us, and use the revenue generated from this massive burst in economic activity to fund Social Security and Medicare benefits for the Baby Boomers and beyond without breaking a sweat.

We won’t do it.

Why won’t we do it? Well, because we’ve been told that we’re going to warm the planet too much in the process.

The direct costs of global warming alarmism – notably some form of carbon tax or carbon credits – are staggering enough on their own and quickly run into the trillions. But what happens when you couple those with the opportunity costs? How much wealth is left literally buried in the ground because we’re afraid of what recovering that wealth will do to global temperatures? How many children in developing countries go to bed hungry because we’re not willing to tap the natural resources that could improve their standard of living? Occupy Wall Streeters, the wealth you’re craving isn’t just in the pocketbooks of the 1% – it’s in the 99% of our natural resources that you refuse to touch. A cost-benefit analysis quickly reveals that the price of climate alarmism is far higher than any civilized society should be willing to pay. Doesn’t that matter? Isn’t that a problem? Shouldn’t all of us be concerned about the answers to these questions?

Why do I care, Mr. Global Warming Alarmist? The question is why do you care about an ill-defined, scientifically shaky doomsday scenario more than the immediate well-being of billions of people?

Beware of Volunteer Prophets

Within the next three to five years, the Chinese will invade and occupy the United States of America and set up prison camps wherein us regular Americans will be tortured because… well, because we’ll be tortured for some reason. Don’t interrupt.

One of these camps will be in a tiny Southern Utah town with less than one-hundred residents, but don’t let that fool you. For this is no ordinary town. No, sir, this is the town where we shall stand up and fight back and redeem the Constitution and pluck it from the hands of the godless conspirators who have defiled it with their foreign ways and their kung pao shrimp and cheaply-made Happy Meal toys and Mulan with the lucky cricket and the way they talk funny because our Founding Fathers would never talk like that because if the Bible was written in English then that’s good enough for me.

Phew.

While I have added some thinly veiled racist details that take some artistic license with the whole concept, the substance of this pinheaded prophecy did not originate with me. No, it came from a woman who believes she has more access to God’s purposes than a schmo like you. It seems she had a vision of herself in this Chinese prison camp in her small town, and, in the vision, she was pregnant, so all this rigamarole must therefore be fulfilled during her premenopausal years.

By my calculations, this woman is now pushing 50, so either we are going to have an Abraham and Sarah sort of situation, or else the Chinese had better hurry up.

I thought of this prophecy as I was driving my small children to school yesterday morning and unwisely left the radio station tuned to Glenn Beck, self-appointed soothsayer of the sound waves. The Mighty Beckster was holding court with a woman who was complaining about the harassment her daughter suffers at the hands of ragged, impolite protesters as she makes her way to her Wall Street office.

Our Mr. Beck, ever the voice of reason in these troubled times, calmly reassured her that things were going to get much, much worse and that a Civil War between regular Americans like her and all them dark-skinned folks living in the inner cities was just around the corner and would probably launch by summertime – Labor Day at the latest – and so don’t forget to log on and see Glenn Beck’s internet television channel on December 8 in order to receive further instructions on how to fend off the coming apocalypse. I’ll be sure to be there myself unless something else – anything else at all – is happening that day.

We Mormons bring it on ourselves, really. We have the audacity to claim that God continues to speak today as he did to prophets of old, so we shouldn’t be surprised when a few volunteer prophets step up and fill the void. And the message of the self-appointed volunteers is always far more exciting and compelling than the message of the boring-but-real ones. A generation tutored by Hollywood expects prophets to prophesy of Chinese death camps and race wars. They tune out when the real prophets emphasize loving your neighbor, performing acts of service, and the importance of faith over fear.

Regardless, that’s what real prophets do. The people that I sustain as Prophets, Seers, and Revelators haven’t said word one about invading Sinohordes in Southern Utah or brewing inner city secession. I don’t have to tune in on December 8, because I tuned into LDS General Conference on October 1, and the people I truly trust to pass along God’s message were singing a far different tune than the lunatic wails of the Beckian fringe.

Christ’s injunction to beware of false prophets is based on the assumption that there will be true prophets, too. But those who believe in true prophets should not consider themselves exempt from the warnings against false ones, and they, especially, should have zero tolerance for any such prophet who cloaks him or herself in the culture of the Restored Gospel to perpetuate their hooey.

Christmas Scams

So here’s the plan.

Christmas gets increasingly expensive for a family with five children, and in these times of economic crisis, one must turn to new sources of inspiration to supplement Santa’s bounty.

Beginning on Black Friday, then, I shall join my twin 10-year-old sons, Corbin and Cornelius Cornell, and embark on a journey to spread Christmas cheer, while at the same time enhancing our own Christmas wealth.

And so it is that I shall dress them in shabby clothes and smear both of their faces with liquid graphite to give them a filthy, Pig-Pen-from-Charlie Brown vibe without the usual accompanying odors, and then we shall visit every retail establishment in the Salt Lake Valley that sells quality footwear.

I shall then send my two minions into these retail establishments, armed only with a few choice words and socks filled with seven dollars in pennies.

The pennies are but props; it’s the words that are key. I have written these words on two index cards, which the lads have been instructed to memorize. Using a musical accompaniment, they have managed to commit the following script to memory:

“Sir (or Ma’am), I want to buy these shoes for my mama, please. It’s Christmastime, and these shoes are just her size. Could you hurry, sir (or Ma’am)? Daddy says there’s not much time. See, she’s been sick for quite awhile, and I know these shoes will make her smile, and I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight.”

For days, Cornelius stumbled on the intro, as he didn’t realize that the parenthetical “Ma’am” was only to be used as an alternative and not an addition. Corbin asked if perhaps he should be prepared to substitute some other divine moniker should the sir or ma’am clearly be a representative of a faith outside the majority, and thus it might suit our purposes if Mama might meet Allah/Krishna/The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob tonight instead. I commended him for his foresight, but I think it’s best of we keep it simple.

If NewSong’s rancid Christmas staple has taught me anything, it’s that a subsequent person in line, listening to that mawkish pitch and watching a slimy urchin try to pay for a pair of expensive high heels a penny at a time, will immediately be filled with “a glimpse of heaven’s love” and gleefully “foot” the bill, if you know what I mean. That will give them a treasured memory that will be well worth the hundred dollars plus they will fork over to get the line moving again, and my satisfaction of being the instrument for such manufactured cheer will mitigate whatever guilt I may feel when I return to the same store the following day with the shoes, the receipt, and a tale of woe about the beloved missus, who kicked the bucket whilst my sons were buying her kickers. Alas, she is now resting peacefully with Buddha/Ganesh/L. Ron Hubbard, and I’d like the refund in cash, if you don’t mind.

The boys are instructed to select no shoe worth less than one Benjamin, and our reconnoitering of the retail environment has yielded over 100 prospective outlets wherein we can find 100 easy marks who need to be reminded what Christmas is all about. Doing the math, that means we can collect at least 10K worth of heaven’s love glimpses in about two weeks time. Not a bad haul, if I do say so myself.

If this works, then next season will allow us time to expand beyond the podiatric to even more lucrative Yuletide treasure.

“Sir (or Ma’am), it’s Christmas Eve, and this 60-inch flat screen plasma is just her size…”