The Last Supper (or sitting down with people you can't stand with)

Continuing the review of a couple of my favorite blog entries from this past year, I'd like to revisit an entry from last July wherein I addressed that transcendent quality of our president as a uniter. (Or as was said in Four Weddings and a Funeral,"Of course, we all know that's a big lie.")

Dining with friends, playing with matches

For some years now, we've had these friends I call "The Conservatives" with whom we meet for dinner or share a wedding or funeral now and then. Despite our extreme political polarity, our friendship has been testament to the socio-electromagnetic theorem "opposites attract." Whenever we've gotten together, a lot of laughs have ensued. I suspect, however, on a deeper level we really detest each other passionately.

During the past 10 years the friendship's survived, thrived even, despite an occasional tense moment that always lurked whenever we'd drift into politics as conversation. Like the afternoon Mr. Conservative attempted to quote Rush Limbaugh to me.

Sitting on my patio, on my patio furniture, enjoying my beer, I thought there was a limit to the hospitality one should extend. Quoting the blatherings of a sociopath like Limbaugh exceeded those limits. Strained hospitality ensued sans Rush who was, rather vehemently, denied seating at our table by me his host. That was back in the 90's. But we survived that afternoon.

Since the bloodless coup of 2000, I've detected an increased tension whenever we get together. The laughter's less frequent, more strained.

Mr. Conservative is a primo example of a Thomas Frank citizen in his book, What's the Matter with Kansas?, i.e. he has some of the same concerns as we radical liberals. Like healthcare, rising local taxes, drug and food safety. He enjoys the environment. Thinks the war a mess. You know, cares about programs and people we see being abused and decimated under Bush. But Mr. C. can't make the connection between his conservative, Christian driven, ideology and the consequences of that ideology under the leaders he chooses to elect! (Despite my best efforts to continually remind him.)

And that's where the real frustration comes in, because when you can't get someone to connect their concerns with their conservatism, you might as well go outside and run full speed, head first, into the nearest brick wall. Of course, that solves nothing. That's just the urge borne of frustration. It's they who need to hit the bricks because their lucidity gene is hopelessly locked in the OFF position.

If the last time we dined out, the usual political banter had gotten as bad as it usually gets, I could have handled it, like always. Enjoyed it actually. But that night, it went further. It got worse!

Recently I heard Bill Moyer's "Take Back America" speech. In that speech, Moyer's mentioned Jared Diamond's new book describing how American elites "cocoon themselves in gated communities, guarded by private security guards, and filled with people who drink bottled water, depend on private pensions, and send their children to private schools." Gradually, they lose the motivation 'to support the police force, the municipal water supply, Social Security, and public schools.' Any society where the elite insulate themselves from the consequence of their actions, Diamnond wrote, contains a built-in blueprint for failure."

My first reaction to that was,"Yeah, but that's the extreme." And then I flashed back to that last dining experience with The Conservatives. Their son, little "Buddy" Conservative, Jr. joined us. That's not unusual, he seems to really enjoy the inevitable fray that occurs, the thrill he gets from breaking bread with we "insurgents" of little faith.

Buddy's around 30, going on 9. We've watched him grow up, but were shocked to learn that evening how his strong Christian faith is manifesting itself. This he revealed right there at the table by gutting himself and laying open his innerds for all to see. A quick glance was all I could manage. It appeared to be a seething mass of some kind of neo-Nazi libertarianism gone amuck. (Thank God I'd finished my entrée.)

You see, Buddy exposed his disdain for police and firemen because he's law abidingly straight and it's not his house that burns down, why should his taxes go to support them? The local Community College should be disbanded because he doesn't need, nor like paying for it. (Tsk, tsk, it's attendence is over 75% Hispanic.) He loves our war that's decimating Iraqi 'terrorists' (of whom, approximately 80% are women and children); hates the thought of that huge Social Security chunk outta his paycheck which goes to seniors now on Social Security. And the frosting on his cake is, to make America a better place "we should just turn it over to the big corporate conglomerates!"

My God! As Bill Moyers had so eloquently told me, I'd just glimpsed Jared Diamond's "blueprint for failure!"

That was last January. Our "last supper" with The Conservatives. I suppose we've done those because it's as close to ex-patriots, Paris street cafes, 1920's pseudo-intellectualism as we could get. And somehow it made the food taste better.

But this last time, despite the great food and sense of 'dining with danger,' I was left feeling queasy. Perhaps it's because I came away from that evening with the tacit realization when the Revolution comes, we'll have to kill each other.