Cognitive Dissonance

This is NOT a pro-Trump MAGA diatribe. Far from it. Trump and most Republicans, with their fascist politics and shameful grandstanding, aren't even an option for sane voters in the USA Presidential Elections in November 2024. We won't discuss them here because they're beyond the pale, beyond the realm of possibility for functional governance. Trouble is, Democrats aren't too far behind. They'll tell you something but you'll be seeing something else. Is the Democratic Party trying to gaslight you for your vote? You know that things aren't as great as Biden claims when large corporations are doing massive layoffs. And nobody, least of all the corporate Democrats who are now running things, objects to this. After all, that's the way of capitalism: a downsized corporation becomes more profitable, the stock price goes up, stockholders get happier, richer, fatter. But Wall Street and Main Street are not the same thing, stockholders are a comparatively small elite. What about the many wretches who lost their jobs in the downsize? Where do they go? Where's the wide open labor market Democrats keep extolling? Where are the many jobs that the economy has supposedly added? Whatever jobs ARE available--do they offer decent pay and benefits? Nope. But nobody will tell you that, nobody will admit that steady employment is fast being replaced by minimum wage gigs or three-month contracts with temp agencies. And that even

those minimum wage gigs are hard to come by; I invite you to apply for a job online. If you seek a position walking dogs, you'll have to compete with 150 other applicants for the privilege of scraping dog shit off the sidewalk. You'll soon discover that major employers want college degrees from schleps who will be required to stack shelves or bag groceries. Worse, you'll need two of these lousy jobs because the pay won't go very far, now that prices are soaring. That's another example of cognitive dissonance: if as Democrats claim, inflation is abating, why are we always broke? There's evidence of this kind of doubletalk and deception everywhere. If the US is the "good guy" in foreign policy issues, why are we contributing to the genocide of millions of Palestinians? Or why has Biden been ignoring the mess at our Southern border? Or the disruptions provoked by masses of immigrants streaming into our cities unsupervised, unfunded, unvetted? These people are draining our resources and making our streets more dangerous, while Biden just lets the problem build up and Progressive Democrats advocate for leniency at the border. None of this represents our opinions or serves our needs as USA Latino voters: We don't want our lives overrun by these strangers, we need border control and financial aid to our cities, but nobody is listening to us. Because Biden wants to ignore the true nature of his base: it is largely composed of brown people-- Latinos, Arabs-- and educated white kids. And let's not forget the black voters who revived his anemic bid for the Democratic primary in 2020. Unfortunately, Biden craves voters who are white old men like him, but those are already taken. Trump has got them, and they ain't going nowhere, as far as anyone can tell, though this doesn't seem to discourage Biden. It will take more than that bit of reality to dent his determination to remain on the throne. Biden, you see, is a guy who feels outdone by the young black upstart who managed to get to the presidency before he did, a geezer who just wants to be President once more before he drops dead, and fuck everything else. Despite his folksy charm, his famous gift for compassion born from personal suffering, he strikes me as an arrogant old coot. Efforts to make him look warm and cuddly fall flat, licking ice cream during photo ops won't make him a nicer person; his nasty nature slips out when he interacts with rank-and-file journalists. Biden has managed to squelch all divergence of opinion within his party to make himself the only choice for the presidency in 2024. Additionally, it's not customary or easy to primary an incumbent, and a progressive third party candidate might split the vote in favor of the GOP. What to do? Biden is IT and he plays on this, because he knows that Trump shouldn't even be an option with non-crazy voters. So I guess we will have to vote in Uncle Joe, the lesser evil, while refusing to believe his bullshit and working to force a more righteous conscience onto his second term.

My Date with a Girl: A Valentine’s Day Tale

I divorced twice, back in the days when nice little Latinas didn't move out on their parents unless they were safely married. To do otherwise was disreputable, so I married both times to get away from my parents--specifically, my mother, a creature straight out of Joan Crawford's meanest maternal exploits (Read "Mami, dearest", April 2021). So, I never really enjoyed one of those idyllic, Hallmark relationships of mutual adoration so celebrated in song and poetry. I've had the dubious privilege of having my heart broken, of feeling that sort of temporaty insanity that typically washes over the lovestruck, and that has to be enough for me. Because mostly, I've loved men who didn't love me back and vice versa. I suspect that many other women are in the same boat though they would never confess it, because all these years after "spinster" became an outdated term to describe a single lady, it's still shameful for a woman not to be someone's object of desire. Like it or not, a woman's value is still largely measured by whether some man wants her, so we tend to choose loveless liaisons rather than being alone. I've seen gorgeous, accomplished women marry wretches just so they can be married. It's been said that if you can't get what you like, you better like what you can get, but I say it's more dignified to be alone than to hook up with some freak. Yes, it's always possible for just about anyone to scrape the bottom of the barrel and come up with some reject to marry. (And if calling undesirable men "wretches", "rejects" and "freaks" seems cruel, remember how cruel men can be when discussing females among themselves). I'm reminded of the stories about women sitting outside prison gates, waiting to take home newly-freed strangers. Likewise, if I wanted a partner badly enough, I could head over to Manhattan's Roosevelt Hotel and pick out a new arrival from the stream of indigents crossing the border. Or I could pair off with my adoring roommate, a dwarf with a yarmulka and a leer. Or with one of the psychos who board at the local hospital (I once had a suitor like that). Or I could try to steal my ugly neighbor's handsome artist boyfriend (he's willing)--and support him, like she gladly does. But I'd rather hold out for someone who doesn't look like Quasimodo, is in reasonable mental and physical health, unattached, straight, respectful and solvent. Age is no problem--I don't mind younger guys and they don't seem to mind me (the love of my life is 18 years younger). And anyway, I'm approaching the time when men my age or older start dropping like flies. My requirements may seem like a low bar for older single women, but they're really a tall order in today's seller's market of mature dudes, also pursued by younger women looking for sugar daddies. So I'm still waiting for my prince. Point being, anyone can get a guy if she's willing to pay any

price. Even knowing this, Valentine's Day is still my most hated holiday besides New Year's Eve (which I call "Compulsory Be Happy Night"). Valentine's still depresses me, making me feel like a loser, as though I'm missing out on something vital, as though I've been excluded from some important club. On this note, I have to wonder why merchants never bothered to expand the concept of Valentine's Day beyond sexual love into all kinds of affection, say, love for your siblings, or your favorite old teacher, or the unfortunates you help when you do volunteer work. That would be more lucrative for the economy and more pallatable for people who are not coupled off. But back to me. I have found a way around my anemic romantic history, I may not have the memory of a great forever love to my credit, but I do have the memory of some single, magical evenings with wonderful people I never saw again. By "people", I mean men, of course. A friend once said that becoming a lesbian is like "giving up". Anyway, I'm not attracted to women and have never been with one, which is what makes this next Valentine's Day Tale so weird. It was a Friday or Saturday evening, and I was drinking alone in a semi-seedy bar accross from the Roosevelt Island Tramway station on 2nd Avenue. Two stools away from me was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen, with straight, shoulder length black hair and a navy blue business suit. Her voice was low and smooth, her demeanor poised and intense-- I don't remember her smiling once during the whole evening. And I don't remember what we talked about, but at some point, she said something along the lines of "let's get out of here", and I accepted. We drove to Greenwich Village, to a little blues club much in vogue at the time. We sat at the bar and she slid her arm accross the back of my seat, without touching me. She was paying for everything and I let her. I realized that she had adopted the role of the man, though there was nothing masculine about her. It was more like like play-acting; I don't think she was gay, and there were no sexual overtones to her attitude. She was just being a gentleman and I felt strangely comfortable with that. Eventually, my mystery woman drove us back to the place where we had first met; our goodbyes were brief and curt, no mention was made of ever meeting again. But if she had proposed it, to this day I really don't know what I would have said.