On July 28, 2024, sitting president Joe Biden debated former president Donald Trump. This was the first presidential rematch in the history of the American presidency.
More than the discussion of policies, the most notable event was Biden’s performance which was already being scrutinized. ABC News reported, “President Joe Biden was supposed to put the nation’s mind at ease over his physical and mental capacity with his debate showing Thursday night. But from the onset of the debate, Biden, 81, seemingly struggled even to talk, mostly summoning a weak, raspy voice. In the opening minutes, he repeatedly tripped over his words, misspoke and lost his train of thought.”
Regarding Bide, for months I was concerned about the president’s mental dexterity. Regarding Trump, for years I have been confounded that people to venerate a bombastic, narcissistic, and misogynist Trump.
In both cases, I realized that I had no avenue of relevance to express my concern. In my desire for Biden to end his presidential run (which he eventually did), I felt that my concern was unheard, the same as so many other concerned citizens. I am helpless to persuade voters to make a rational evaluation of Trump’s narcissistic self-righteousness.
To express my concern, I submitted a Letter to the Editor with this disclaimer: I am an ordinary nondescript citizen who associates with the silent majority, a group that has been disenfranchised from partisan politics.
Letter to the Editor
Along with many of my peers I embrace the Four Freedoms that President Franklin Roosevelt articulated in his 1941 State if the Union Address – Freedom of Speech; Freedom of Worship; Freedom from Want; Freedom from Fear. In 1943 Norman Rockwell placed these four freedoms on canvas illustrating the reason why we were engaged in a war an ocean away. Sadly, I think the oil painting Freedom of Speech has faded. The blue-collar worker standing forthright in a New England town hall meeting, with all eyes fixed upon him, now has uncertain footing.
There was a time when the silent majority, the group I identify with, were influential in politics. We were visible constituents who held leverage in the decision-making process. We were accommodated as we voted with the stampede of our feet, endorsing or abandoning a politician. In the past decade we have segued into a disenfranchised conglomerate, absent of influence as we now tiptoe barefoot inside the beltway.
I, along with so many others who are willing to make political concessions, are living in a helpless and hopeless political environment as partisan politics has become our climate change. A tsunami of extremism – liberal and conservative – left and right – has swept over us. Gone are the days of Bob Dole, who is considered the preeminent champion of compromise. The senator stated, “Compromise is not a sign of weakness, but a testament to our willingness to work together for the common good.”
Currently congressional representatives vote uniformly with the party platform, causing me to wonder if our legislators are independent thinkers. When the news media can predict a Supreme Court ruling before it is made public, I wonder if the Constitution has simply become a partisan parchment.
Residing in South Carolina I am weary of hearing that seven states – Arizona & Georgia & Michigan & Nevada & North Carolina & Pennsylvania & Wisconsin – have and will continue to determine a presidential election. As for the Palmetto State, a Republican has won every presidential election since 1980. Even Barrack Obama couldn’t commandeer the state in 2008 and 2012. One reporter highlighted that South Carolina is so red that it has sun burn. I often wonder why I make an annual pilgrimage to West Florence High School on the first Tuesday of November, when the slate has already been determined.
Equally disturbing is the realization that single-issue politics parallels partisan politics. Issues are ether black or white, absent of gray; it is either this or that, void of mediation. For the populace that has a centrist view of life, we are hemmed in on an oasis where the palm leaves have withered and the well run dry, as the scorching desert sands of extremism encroach upon us.
From campaign rallies with myopic rhetoric to unapologetic television pundits, from a congressman’s cemented opinion to a special interest group’s immutable manifesto, you are either with us or against us, you are either friend or foe, you can never be reasonable. Those of us who seek the voice of reason enter a dark empty room absent of windows: there is no light; there is no one to be found.
If a legislator strays from the herd, he will be punished. A tribal mentality prevails as liberated thinkers are excommunicated.
Tom Rice was my congressman, representing the Seventh Congressional District in South Carolina for five terms, until he was defeated by Russell Fry in the 2022 primary who then went on to win the general election. Fry’s campaign essentially focused on one issue; Rice was one of ten Republicans who voted to impeach President Donald Trump. Trump called the House member a “coward” and “disloyal,” even though he cast 169 votes out of 184 in support the president’s agenda. Fry declared the action of the Pee Dee congressman a “signal that we needed a change in Washington.” Rice understood this single vote could halt a dutiful career, confessing “I did it then. And I would do it again tomorrow.” Those of us who don’t wear a red or blue team uniform, perhaps we will don one that is rainbow, will never be on the playing field as we will always be seated in the bleachers.
I feel abandoned in the coming presidential election. I concur with Thomas Friedman when he opened his essay, that was published in The New York Times on July 9, with these words, “When I look at my country’s presidential contest, the first thought that comes to mind is that only the Devil himself could have designed this excruciating mess.” As we dance with the Devil, I feel powerless to even be a speed bump as the two parties propel their respective candidates to the checkered flag.
When it comes to Joe Biden, even the most casual observer recognizes his faltering cognitive ability. The country requires a president who can work past eight. I know that some elites hear my disillusionment; though, if Joe and Jill and their entourage won’t listen to a few ranking congressional leaders, some donors, and for good measure I will throw in George Clooney, there is little that I can do except shake my head in disbelief. NBC reported that an unnamed congressman likened Biden to “the grandpa who refuses to give up the car keys even though it’s not safe for him to drive anymore.” The president remarked after his debate befuddle, “If the Lord Almighty said, ‘Joe get out of the race’, then I would get out of the race. But the Lord Almighty’s not coming down.” It would be prudent for 46 to retreat to his man cave and listen more intently.
Those of us who are judicious have been discarded by the Trump syndicate. Anticipating the impending coronation of Donald Trump this week in Milwaukee, we shudder. I am dumfounded as to why the GOP continues to promote a bombastic, narcissistic, misogynist candidate. I ponder, is he the only one who can “drain the swap.” There must be a more level-headed Republican who can champion the party’s agenda. As for making America great again, we are dwelling in one of the most pristine periods in our nation’s history. It seems that MAGA voices echo from coast to coast, and those of us who refuse to wear a red ballcap have become orphans.
It has been abundantly documented and publicized that Trump belittles most everyone, so I need not report his obnoxious blather. Trump’s penchant for mocking others solidified my disassociation when he appeared at a campaign rally at the Bay Center in Pensacola on September 9, 2016. There, standing at the podium, he mimicked New York Times reporter Serge Kovaleski who suffers from arthrogryposis, an affliction that restricts muscle movement in his arms. It was insensitive. It was callus. It was not presidential. As I suffer from Asperger’s, I realized at that moment the Trump administration would never beatify me, or anyone like me.
And so, on November 5th many of us will walk unnoticed.
Dr. Ronald H. Love