As you probably know, allegations of sexual misconduct emerged regarding Republican former Speaker of the House Dennis Hastert in recent months. It was a moment of clarity for me, thinking back on my naïve younger days when I was a loyal Republican and exasperated when politicians in positions of great power like Hastert inevitably proved weak and capitulating. This scandal cemented in my mind the following truth:
Dennis Hastert was not nominated for Speaker because he was a great patriot or eloquent statesman, but rather because there were stockpiles of blackmail against him that served to neutralize his effectiveness in office. He is not alone, this obviously is a timeless political strategy employed by those who circulate and broker in the corridors of power.
What particularly irks me is how for so many years fellow Republicans paid lip service to Americans who called for closing our southern border in the name of national security and/or protecting our sovereignty from the Anchor Baby phenomenon. But in the end no meaningful action was taken, no strong policy measures were set in motion let alone followed through upon.
I recently made the move back to Southern California which has a huge and growing Latino population. This area is reaping the consequences of DC’s endless talk while the realities of life in the American Southwest continued to play out. And guess what? I’d rather make a go of it down here amongst the “new Americans” rather than hold any allegiance to all these old white politicians with their repressed sexual desires and secret homosexual liaisons which are held over their heads like the Sword of Damocles.
And truth be told, first-generation Mexican-Americans might be the only people really happy to be here right now. They don’t have any of the politically correct baggage white people have saddled themselves with, this psychotic cocktail of neuroses and self-hate that will help phase us out over the decades to come.
So fuck them and fuck the creepy politicians. I’m a mid-30s, straight white male living in a society that only cares about women, gays, and now especially all things trans. I’m going to keep my head down and work hard alongside these Latinos who, interestingly enough, seem to be living their own version of 1950s America. When I see the bright faces of the young employees at El Pollo Loco and Carl’s Jr. fast food chains, I am heartened by their optimism compared to the self-destructive whites I lived amongst in Portland for the last three years.
Hell, maybe I’ll even marry myself a cute Latina and make some babies. That whole “hybrid vigor” thing certainly made for an interesting combo in my sister and me, this mix of my mother’s Anglo-Episcopalian stock with my father’s swarthy Eastern European Jewish genes. It just might be time for me to relearn my high school Spanish…