I’m tired.

No, not just because my brain won’t shut up at night and let me sleep, though that has at least a little to do with it. It’s the laughing at my attempts to sleep that annoy me the most; it doesn’t even try a polite little snicker, instead going for all-out guffaws. It seems to find chronic insomnia hilarious.

I’m tired of our not learning (or caring) about what works to curtail the spread of a disease that can kill, and that even among those who survive there are those whose lives will never be the same because its effects are being shown to linger. I’m tired because we allowed common-sense public health measures to become a political football, so much so that wearing a mask gets you instantly tagged as a “damn librul commie,” despite evidence from other nations (heck, even other regions of this country) that shows if we had been following guidelines and ignoring all the misinformation we’d be out of the worst of this by now.

But yeah … masks are a liberal plot to control you (and your germs). How dare anyone consider anyone but themselves and likeminded individuals!

I’m tired of seeing patriotism, which is love of country, equated with any particular political ideology. Need I remind you of Teddy Roosevelt’s words?

“PATRIOTISM means to stand by the country. It does not mean to stand by the President or any other public official save exactly to the degree in which he himself stands by the country. It is patriotic to support him in so far as he efficiently serves the country. It is unpatriotic not to oppose him to the exact extent that by inefficiency or otherwise he fails in his duty to stand by the country. In either event it is unpatriotic not to tell the truth—whether about the President or about anyone else—save in the rare cases where this would make known to the enemy information of military value which would otherwise be unknown to him.”

“Lincoln and Free Speech,” Metropolitan Magazine, May 1918

And:

“To announce that there must be no criticism of the President, or that we are to stand by the President, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public. Nothing but the truth should be spoken about him or anyone else. But it is even more important to tell the truth, pleasant or unpleasant, about him than about anyone else.”

“Sedition, a Free Press and Personal Rule,” Kansas City Star, May 1918

Disagreeing with a president or a party doesn’t mean you don’t love your country, and athletes like Colin Kaepernick aren’t protesting the U.S., the flag or the anthem, but injustice. Protests are an American tradition (Boston Tea Party, anyone?), and are protected by the Constitution; they’ve gone on before this president, and they will go on after him, with many patriots in the mix. Telling people to leave if they don’t like the country is pointless, as it seems most of the time it’s not the country they don’t like. If you truly believe that disrespecting the president means you hate America, can I assume you will be leaving if Joe Biden wins next month?

Of course not. For one thing, this is where your stuff is.

I’m tired of politics. I’m tired of the way it divides us for no good reason when quite often we’re mostly in agreement (because the loudest/most radical get the most attention, the center, where most people are, is overlooked, but those people show up in polls and at the voting booth). I’m especially tired of what author and pastor John Pavlovitz calls the “politics of spite” because people “want someone to stick it to the world on their behalf and this president does that.”

“It’s terribly sad to admit that a huge portion of this nation is moved not by party over country (which would be bad enough)—but by spite; that they care more about flipping Democrats the bird than the sovereignty of our nation,” Pavlovitz wrote in a 2019 blog post. “To know that people you respected and loved and live and work with are moved primarily by anger as an engine is reason for mourning.”

He’s not wrong. I’ve had to snooze Facebook friends who refuse to see objective reality and reply with endless whataboutisms that ignore the matter at hand when you call their bluff with a fact-check. When it’s someone close to me, it especially hurts to know that their views are so strident there is no room for disagreement. No one wants to lose dear longtime friends, but the gulf that’s been created by this sort of politics has caused just that.

And hey, if you really think it’s a good idea to continually post debunked memes and screeds, know that I will post fact-checks (from fact-checkers who link to original sources, not from those that simply opine that something’s wrong because they don’t like it, and try to distract you by changing the subject [have you seen the size of that dog!?]). If that bothers you, you might as well unfriend me now. I’m my mama’s daughter.

In the politics of spite, what’s important isn’t the betterment of society, but “owning” the opposition, even at their own expense … just as long as they think it will make the other side crazy.

From independent little me: All of it is crazy, and not the fun kind. More the creepy-clown-with-an-axe crazy.

One side speaks fondly of the good ol’ days without considering that those days weren’t so good for those who weren’t white and/or male (women in general and people of color haven’t had it so easy), and the other side goes more than a bit overboard with its reactions and solutions (seriously, free college is nuts, not the least because not everyone is suited for college). Calm down, both of you.

I long for the good ol’ days, but mine are probably (OK, mostly) imaginary, or at least seem that way considering our political climate. I’d like to get back to having public servants rather than politicians, snake-oil salesmen and game-show hosts. Back to when elected representatives worked together for the greater good, regardless of party, and served all their constituents rather than just the ones who voted for them. We did have that a few times in our history, but those days are long-gone.

When equal pay for equal work actually existed (not that it ever did, but it should because few families can afford to have one parent stay home anymore, and because it’s just the right thing to do), and when no one had to fear being treated differently because of gender, race, religion, or who you love.

But in the world we live in now, grievance politics is what sells. Paint the opposition in broad strokes as satanic, holy rollers, soulless automatons, toothless rednecks, dunces who can’t cross the street by themselves, or whatever else you can think of. Just make sure everyone will see that you’re the victim of these evil people and/or the people who coddle them, and that you’re really angry about it. But also ecstatically happy, because we all know how happy angry people are.

Really? You know I’m going to break out Occam’s Razor, which essentially says the simplest explanation is more likely to be the right one.

Occam’s Razor would posit that the surge in covid-19 infections comes not from more testing but from more people disregarding mask mandates that have been shown to work because “FREEDOM!” and that downplaying the pandemic wasn’t smart politically or morally. It would also remind you that actions have consequences. (Ya know, like attending a close-quarters function maskless just might mean that you’ll be infected with covid-19 and/or infect someone else.)

It would say that you, not unseen forces, are more than likely the cause of your current situation. The choices you made placed you where you are. You are the author of your destiny.

I’ve had lots of choices in my life that would have taken me in a different direction. Had I accepted a job offer from a school friend 25 years or so ago, I would likely still be in broadcasting rather than working in what was my first love, print journalism. I’d probably be making more money, but … (OK, it’s Arkansas media, so not much more.)

And I’ve made many mistakes, including one in last week’s column: The fear of doctors is “iatrophobia,” not “latrophobia.” I could use the excuse that sans serif fonts make the uppercase I and lowercase l look the same, and that many others made the same mistake, judging by the number of Google results for both spellings. But no, the mistake was mine.

Am I mad about it? Maybe a little, but only at myself.