“The Cruelty is the Point”
I was singing to the choir, complaining to my old high school friend about the tactics and strategies employed by the Trump administration, against immigrants, against the press, and against any citizen disagreeing with this administration’s viewpoint. “It all seems so intentional, so cruel,” I said.
“The cruelty is the point,” he responded. It was short, pithy, but that was weeks ago and I continue to ponder the phrase. I wondered why it sounds familiar – my friend used quote marks – so this morning, I googled it and got this very thorough AI response:
“The cruelty is the point” is a political phrase coined by The Atlantic staff writer Adam Serwer in a prominent 2018 essay. [1, 2]
Origin and Meaning
- Coinage: Adam Serwer used the phrase in his October 2018 essay, “The Cruelty Is the Point”. [1, 2, 3]
- Core Argument: Serwer argued that the policies and public behavior of the Trump administration and its supporters were not accidentally harsh or crude, but intentionally designed to cause pain to marginalized groups. [1, 2]
- The Bond: He wrote that inflicting this pain creates a powerful sense of unity, pride, and shared identity among political supporters, binding them together through common opposition to outsiders, immigrants, and minority groups. [1]
Book Adaptation
- Publication: Serwer expanded his essays into a book titled The Cruelty Is the Point: The Past, Present, and Future of Trump’s America, published in June 2021. [1, 2]
- Themes: The book examines how modern political conflicts connect to deeper historical currents in the United States, including white supremacy, migration debates, police unions, and the legacy of the Lost Cause. [1, 2]
Usage and Legacy
- Political Lexicon: The phrase became a widely adopted descriptor in political commentary to characterize populist movements, harsh immigration rules (such as family separations), and rhetoric directed at political opponents. [1, 2, 3]
- Broader Application: Analysts and commentators frequently invoke the phrase outside the Trump administration to describe political strategies that rely on outraging rivals and signaling hostility toward specific demographic or social groups. [1, 2]
The original article in The Atlantic states:
“It is not just that the perpetrators of this cruelty enjoy it; it is that they enjoy it with one another. Their shared laughter at the suffering of others is an adhesive that binds them to one another, and to Trump.”
I urge you to read the October 2018 essay, and the book. From the beginning of the second Trump term, from the the very first day with the horrifying Presidential Edicts, the cruelty has been increasingly woven into public policy. The policies are Anti-American, anti-immigrant, anti-women and anti-everything I was taught to believe as I grew up – That we are created and born with equal rights, male and female, black, white, yellow, red and all the glorious colors in between. “Red and yellow, black and white, we are precious in His sight.”
Our priest told us from the pulpit this week that we are “to carry the light.” Each one of us, individually and together, carries the light. We can choose to be kind. We can reflect “the light that shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
Mind Your Own Business!
This message from yesterday’s Lectionary Readings made me laugh because different cultures have such differences, even in my own country, the United States of America.
I grew up in the great Pacific Northwest, on an island in Alaska, surrounded by Scandinavian immigrants and Alaskan natives and pioneers from the “lower 48,” as we called the USA, which was then a territory and not yet a state. Neighbors relied on one another, and we were strongly interconnected, helping one another out in daily interactions, and in emergencies. We were close, and yet we were also insular – a curious child’s innocent inquiry (mine!) would be met with “Mind your own business.” It meant don’t ask questions. Give people their privacy. In truth, there were many people who had left the “lower 48” for good reasons, established new lives in the last frontier and did not want to be reminded of what kind of mess they might have left behind.
AdventureMan grew up in the deep South, a town of around 3,000 people where they joked that the population always remains the same – a new baby gets born, and a man leaves town.” When I come back from a meeting or a lunch with a friend, he has endless questions. When he meets my friends, he has questions. I tell him generalities, and he asks specifics, and I say something vague. I hurt his feelings when I don’t share all the details – in his culture, in his small town, everyone knew everything about everybody. No one had any secrets. People knew what you had done 50 years ago, and there was little room for changing anyones opinion of who you are now, how you might have changed. People regularly shared what they knew about one another.
We’ve been married decades, and we still push and pull on this issue – how much do we share? We both know there is not a right or wrong, just what feels right to him and what feels right to me, and we have to agree to disagree, and sometimes we can be very disagreeable!
This is what the Lectionary reading says:
Thessaalonians 4:10
But we urge you, beloved,* to do so more and more, 11to aspire to live quietly, to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we directed you, 12so that you may behave properly towards outsiders and be dependent on no one.
How does it work for you?
My Problem With ICE
I have a long history with Immigration and Customs Enforcement. I’ve been in and out of the USA since I was a little girl. We have filled out countless forms for passports, and many times more those forms telling what we are bringing back into the country. The only time I ever had a problem with ICE was on returning from one of our African trips when I was bringing in wildebeest jerky from South Africa. I laugh now, it was me and a lot of African nationals shunted off. They were opening suitcases full of vegetables they were bringing back for family, and I was told my package of jerky was illegal in the United States. AdventureMan was annoyed with me, and I was ashamed I didn’t know. But they let me off with a mild scolding about infecting disease free animal life in the USA. I’ve never forgotten.
I’ve never minded the tiresome lines for immigration, always manned by sturdy, polite young people wanting to know where we’ve been and how did we like our trip; they were doing their job and they had been trained how to deal with people. In all my times going through those lines, I never saw any kind of incident.
They had a mission.
With the new administration, that mission changed, enlarged. They were given different, even SECRET orders, orders that encouraged them to commit the sorts of acts we saw in Minnesota. It always looked to me like those acts, committed on US Citizens, committed on resident citizens, smacked of incitement to violence. Why else would these customs and immigration officers be asked to violate the US Constitution in pursuing their mission?
I applaud those stoic and humor-filled Minnesotans who protested with restraint, who did not invite violent responses. Even if the Department of Justice will not cooperate in the investigations you are conducting into the murders of Minneapolis citizens, you are gathering witness from street cameras and witnesses against the illegal actions, and the lies and accusations, unjust, of the ICE officials and the Department of Justice. I applaud the restraint that forestalled any illusion of reason for a “national emergency” and activation of a military presence. The militaristic costumes of the immigration and customs officials did not fool nor intimadate you. Your patient, evidence based investigations will be embarrassment enough to those who thought to prevail by intimidation and brutality.
So we have to look at why the ICE men and women sent by our leader to Democratic states felt so empowered to misbehave?
Many ICE hirees have law enforcement backgrounds. Many of them have served in the armed forces. They know the basics. They know the law. They must have had second thoughts, many of them, while conducting these unrestrained acts of violence characterized as arrests of “rapists, thieves and the mentally ill,” as they arrested family men, women – and children, with no criminal records.
As well as knowing the law, and the legal use of power, those who are Christian would know Christ’s admonition to love our neighbor as ourself. Those who are Jewish would know the Old Testament verses about welcoming the stranger. Those who were raised without religion might be familiar with Spiderman, who teaches us that with great power comes great responsibility.
These $50K hires are as expendable as Pam Bondi and Kristi Noem. Once they have served their purpose, they can be scapegoated for excessive zeal in pursuit of the mission, or charged with murder while their superiors, who put the secret policies into effect, escape blame and punishment.
Again, I applaud the Minnesotans, who with restraint, humor, and humanity, protected the weakest, the families and children, while EFFECTIVELY resisting the provocation they faced. Well done, Minnesota!
And lets take a minute to grieve the effects of the violence upon those who inflicted it, mere pawns in a greater game of thrones.
A Ray of Hope for Free and Fair Elections
This, just in from NPR News:
“Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents will not patrol polling locations during this year’s midterm elections, a Department of Homeland Security official said yesterday on a call with top state voting officials. Kentucky Republican Secretary of State Michael Adams confirmed the promise in a social media post. The declaration comes as the president has continued to push false claims of noncitizen voter fraud, as recently as in Tuesday night’s State of the Union address. “
“Cunning, Ambitious, Unprincipled Men”
” However [political parties] may now and then answer popular ends, they are likely in the course of time and things, to become potent engines, by which cunning, ambitious, and unprincipled men will be enabled to subvert the power of the people and to usurp for themselves the reins of government, destroying afterwards the very engines which have lifted them to unjust dominion. “
George Washington, FAREWELL ADDRESS | SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 1796
The proposed SAVE act addresses a problem that does not exist. There IS occasional voter fraud, it is very rare and it is as often committed by one party as the other. Our elections are safe.
The SAVE act creates barriers for legal voters, especially for women who have changed their name as American citizens culturally do. So if you are a married woman, your ID does not match your birth certificate.
As a woman who has had to scramble in my life time to gather original documents, I know how frustrating, time-consuming and expensive it can be. I had to provide my birth certificate and marriage certificate to live in some foreign countries as we served our country. I was strongly motivated, and I had the luxury of clear instructions, TIME, and enough money to buy the documents I needed.
It is primarily American citizens; Women and the poor, who will be inconvenienced by this act, or unable to vote due to lack of money and time to access their documents.
In my state, Florida, restrictions have already gone into place that diminish voting: a requirement to renew your voting registration every other year, limits on early voting, and limits on absentee voting (especially hard for the elderly with limited abilities). Voters are increasingly forced to wait in long lines in the Florida heat and humidity. Oh – and there is an effort by one party to forbid groups who want to provide water for those standing in line to vote, a concern that a bottle of water might influence a vote.
LOL, this is an AI summary of Florida voting restrictions:
Overview of Voting Restrictions in Florida
Florida has implemented several voting restrictions that affect voter eligibility and the voting process. These changes have been a topic of significant debate.
Key Restrictions
Citizenship Verification
- Voters must provide proof of citizenship to register and vote.
- This requirement aims to ensure that only eligible citizens participate in elections.
Identification Requirements
- Certain forms of identification that were previously accepted may no longer be valid.
- Voters must present specific forms of ID when voting in person.
Voter Eligibility Challenges
- Individuals can challenge another person’s eligibility to vote, but this process is regulated.
- Challenges must be submitted in writing and can only occur within a specific timeframe before an election.
Provisional Ballots
- Voters whose eligibility is challenged can cast provisional ballots.
- These ballots are counted only after verifying the voter’s eligibility.
Impact on Voters
Affected Groups
- The new laws may disproportionately impact students, seniors, and women, who may lack the required identification or documentation.
- Critics argue that these restrictions could suppress voter turnout among eligible citizens.
Registration Deadlines
- Voters must register at least 29 days before an election.
- Changes to voter registration, such as party affiliation or address, must also be submitted by specific deadlines.
These restrictions are part of ongoing discussions about election integrity and access to voting in Florida.
These are moves designed to usurp the reins of government.
“Mom, That is Very Bold”
He looked troubled. He knows living here is one of the reddest counties in one of the reddest states in the country, a sign like this could invite trouble.
“I’ve had the sign for weeks; I was afraid to put it out.” What I didn’t say is that this is Florida. People express themselves in ways I find unacceptable, like shooting at your house, or at the very least, stealing signs that express an opinion they don’t like. I didn’t have to say it. He deals with it every day.
You might think that sign means I am pro-abortion. I am not. I believe abortion is a last, desperate resort. And it is a remedy I want women to have – I want women to make decisions for their own bodies. Not men. Not a legislature. Not a governor.
It was a shock when we amassed enough signatures to get this initiative on the November ballot, not only enough, but way more than enough. The people of Florida want to vote on this and be a part of the decision-making. Right now in Florida, there is a six-week deadline on the pregnancy, during which a person might get an abortion – but that assumes the person realizes she is pregnant and can process and make a decision in that very short time.
Statistics show that since the states began limiting abortions, the number of abortions actually rose. Go figure?
No woman chooses abortion lightly. It is a medical procedure. It costs money. It takes time. It is uncomfortable. Women only choose abortion when the alternatives are unthinkable. Not having the right to choose doesn’t stop abortion, it only makes it a greater burden on women.
So I planted my sign and I hope for the best. I have found that in this very conservative neck of the woods, there are many like-minded people who of necessity keep their heads down. I want them to feel a ray of hope when they see my sign, and maybe, maybe along with voting for Proposition Four, they might even put a sign in their own yards, help others register to vote, or help transport voters to the polls in November.
The Old School Lodge
Our first goal when we get to Montrose is to find where we are staying, not that hard because I use Google Maps. Just about when we get there, we get a text with the combination that will let us in the front door and the combination to our room. Nothing about this is odd; we have done this before.
The place is beautiful. It was an old schoolhouse, and the former auditorium is a grand room with tables, while the guest rooms are off in hallways and up stairs.
This was the only welcome we got.
Everything was immaculate, comfortable and beautifully kept. There must be eight to ten guest rooms. We were the only ones there. We never received any kind of greeting, other than the combination. There were no other guests. As beautiful as the place was, it felt creepy, and we will never stay there again.
I want to be in Venice, too!
We are getting ready to take a journey to a whole new set of petroglyphs, so I have activated a new AirTag. I love these things. I am taking a checked bag this time, for a stop in Denver where I will initiate my niece’s twins into the art of quilting. Just basic stuff, rotary cutting and beginning piecing, and the idea of a quilt. I’ve had a lot of fun planning this, and I have a suitcase full of resources for their exploration.
The set-up is so easy that a technologically impaired elder can do it in under a minute. How cool is that?
So as I set up, I also checked on independent AirTag, the one that disappeared in Barcelona, traveled the Med, crossed the Atlantic, went up the Amazon and crossed back the Atlantic to Barcelona and is now in Venice. Venice! I love Venice. AdventureMan loves Venice. We find Venice endlessly interesting.
And the Villa del Geologia. Wow. I don’t think I even knew it existed. I love that this little AirTag has this fascinating life of its own.
We are taking our son and his family on a trip next year, and I think I will gift them AirTags, for their luggage, for their backpacks, maybe even for their kids. How handy it would be to be able to keep track of all the individuals traveling together as they scattered out in an airport! Of course, you have to get their consent, otherwise, as the instructions tell you, it would be stalking, and against the law.
Chasing Petroglyphs: On to Trails End, and Moab
The drive from Vernal to Moab was pretty boring, but we had a memorable stop at the Outlaw Cafe in some small town, where we had surprisingly good salads.
We got to the cabin at about three, keys were waiting for us, and the cabin is quirky but had a lot of things we really like. Lots of space, a beautiful deck with a wide expanse of view, and although the temperatures in Moab are in the 80’s heading toward 90’s, the breezes in the Pack Creek Valley keep things relatively cool. The king-size bed is generous and firm.
The rules focus on quiet and mutual respect. We took a look at the pool and hot tub and had no interest. We loved the quiet of the cabin.
I’m a worrier. I love planning trips, and sometimes it feels like a high wire act. Will I be able to get the dates I want for the property I want? Will I be able to fly on the dates we need to fly on? And when I chose this cabin to stay in for five days, I worried that it wouldn’t be as good as the photos. Maybe it was too far from town?
The internet didn’t work, which was a good thing. We were so busy that we didn’t even worry about getting it fixed for the first three days, and that was a lovely blessing. And in the midst of “busy,” we had this lovely, incredibly quiet, beautiful retreat in the middle of our vacation. This was not a luxurious place, unless you consider privacy, simplicity and quiet a luxury – and we do.
You can see our food box on the table – everything we need except for fresh milk for my cereal, which I mix myself and bring with us. We will pick up milk later, at the grocery store in Moab, along with our dinner. There is a stove and oven, a full size refrigerator, a microwave, a coffee maker. There is a large sink, all the dishes, pots, pans, containers we might need.
Although the temperatures are in the 90’s, the cool winds keep us comfortable and we never have to turn on the air conditioning. I need to wash a couple things; I wash them in the sink, hang them on hangers on this porch, and within a couple hours they are completely dry. Sheer luxury.
Although I am not much for sunning, lying out on the bench to dry my hair was another luxury, the breezes faster than a hair dryer.
As I walked around taking photos, it’s a good thing I didn’t know about rattlesnakes. There was one coiled right by the back deck which slithered away while Adventureman stepped out on the deck. He took it in stride. I didn’t grow up with snakes; I might have had a different reaction.
The pool was lovely and we are happy enough in our little cabin and on our little deck.
We head into Moab to pick up dinner; it is Monday, and as is true through out the United States, many places are closed. AdventureMan picks a Thai restaurant, Singha Thai, and we order vegetable rolls, sate and Thai salad. We pick it up and stop at a grocery store for milk. The grocery store is disconcerting; we hear German, we hear French, it is packed with Moab tourists from all over the world looking for something for dinner. We buy our milk and hit the road; it is 20 minutes to our cabin, Trail’s End, at Pack Creek Ranch. We are at the foot of the La Sal mountains.
At sunset, AdventureMan sees twirling lights on a nearby hill. Like the petroglyphs, it is a mystery. We can see vans on the crest of the hill, we can see a human twirling (juggling?) something (flashlights? those balls with lights inside?) as the sun goes down and we can hear singing, but we can’t hear the words. We imagine it is some sort of sunset ritual.
The sunset is full of bird sounds; owl, turtledove, others which shriek a little, and the soft gurgling of Pack Creek. Once the sun is set, there is a stunning quiet, so quiet that your ears might ring with the silence.
The night sky is brilliant with stars.
The next morning, the light paints the distant rock hills with color.
Into The Great Wide Open, Day 11, Mammoth Hot Springs to The Tetons and Jackson Hole
It is COLD! It is sunny! It is gorgeous! It is one of the prettiest days of our trip as we leave Mammoth Springs. I make AdventureMan stop several times, trying to capture how beautiful is the frost in the shadows between Mammoth Springs and Old Faithful.
We come to a traffic clog – buffalo crossing. We are patient, it is entirely possible on this route that these are people who have never seen bison before. They are jumping out of their cars and seem a little wild with excitement.
We crossed the Continental Divide at least three times.
The drive is just breathtaking.
Around noon, we leave Yellowstone and are immediately in the Tetons, which we begin to see to the West.
We find the Flagg Ranch Lodge on our right, just in time for lunch. It is a lovely lodge, but you can see that the season is already lagging; the express shop is open but the gift shop is closed.
AdventureMan stops to get a map of the area and I see an oddity, a pay phone. When was the last time you saw a working public pay phone? After lunch, we try to call our son and discover we are in an area with zero bars. Now the pay phone makes all kinds of sense.
I have soup, and the Prismatic Salad, AdventureMan has the Pig Whistle Salad, and lunch is delicious. We talk with our servers; one is a trucker who works during the season with his partner at Flagg Ranch. Off-season, they go back to California.
We stop several places to take in Lake Jackson; we can see it has been greatly depleted by the drought, but also replenished somewhat by the heavy rains tamping down the forest fires. Near Lake Jackson, the air starts to get a little hazier from forest fire related particulate matter.
The Tetons are grand. Impressive. Awe-inspiring. We can’t get enough.
Coming in, we are directed by the Bossy Lady to Moose Wilson Road, isn’t that a great name? There is a large parking lot, and multiple signs warning people that this little dirt road is only for cars, no getting out of cars, no walking and no stopping. There is a ranger in the parking lot – in fact, every time we take this road, which is like four different times because the Bossy Lady sent us over this road to get to different places. In spite of the signs, inspire of the ranger presence, people were . . . stopping. Getting out of their cars. Walking. This is a protected wildlife track, bear, moose, deer.
We arrive shortly at The Alpenhof, in Teton Village, and our room is ready. It looks very German to me, but it is actually very Swiss, German Swiss I suppose. Our room makes me smile; it has so many familiar German touches. It is a nice large room, opening out to a balcony shielded by fresh smelling pines. We can hear the funicular in the background, squeaking now and then as the little carriers round the bend coming down and going up.
We walk around, take a sweet nap and have dinner reservations at the hotel restaurant. AdventureMan and I met in Germany; we still have a weakness for German food. Reservations are strictly required, we must be masked, and we see people turned away who do not have reservations.
As we are waiting, a couple comes in and asks the Maitre d’ if they have “Sloshies.” The Maitre d’ says no, but they can find them in the Bodega at the nearby filling station. The couple tell us that Jackson Hole is famous for “Sloshies” and exit to go find them. They also start a tirade against masking, social distancing and young people who won’t work because they are getting unemployment. If you’ve ever worked with the poor, you know that unemployment doesn’t do it. It is just a supplement.
We are seated, and the menu is lovely. We both decide on salad and a Jaegerschnitzel. If we had known how large they were, we might have thought to share one, but we didn’t, and in truth, while they appeared huge, they were pounded thin, and deliciously prepared with a wine-mushroom sauce. We each ate our entire schnitzels with no problem. We also shared a dessert they called Heisse Liebe, (Hot Love!) but we used to eat along the Hauptstrasse in Heidelberg and it was called Heiss und Eis, vanilla ice cream with a hot sauce made of fresh raspberries and a little liqueur poured over the ice cream. Divine. Heaven.
We took another walk around the village and called it a night, glad we also have reservations the next night at the same restaurant.
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Early Voting in Florida
Here There and Everywhere 