Hispanic Fanatic

Look, this impeachment trial has transfixed all of us.

This is not because there’s any real suspense over Trump’s eventual acquittal. The sycophantic fealty of the Republican Party preordains it. 

No, the spectacle is more about how the GOP is twisting Gordian knots into the very ideas of logic, common sense, patriotism, consistency, legality, principle, and basic decency. Conservatives have overruled all those concepts in favor of hypocrisy, self-righteousness, and fear, supplemented by a lust for power and a flair for Orwellian tactics.

It’s all very fascinating.

However, let’s step back from this constitutional calamity to look at the other major political event occurring soon: the Iowa caucuses.

Yes, next week, thousands of wholesome, downhome, gosh-darn, god-fearin’ Iowans will pull on their overalls, adjust their truckers caps, and mosey on down to wherever it is that one caucuses. Once there, they will take the chewing tobacco out of their mouths long enough to argue for their preferred presidential candidates. And then we’ll have a winner, a frontrunner guaranteed to rocket unimpeded toward their party’s nomination.

Except that’s all pretty much bullshit — and not just the stuff about overalls and chewing tobacco.

You see, only about half of the winners of the Iowa caucus have gone on to win their party’s nomination for president. And that accuracy is likely to decline further in the future, due to demographic changes. After all, Iowa is more than 90% white, while the rest of the country — especially the metro areas where most voters actually live — clearly is not.

Still, we fawn over Iowa because our society continues to devote more attention, give more importance, and provide more resources to the rural areas of our nation, despite the fact that rural America is rapidly declining in population, cultural influence, and economic output.

Basically, we just care a lot more about what old white guys think. 

For example, how many articles have you seen that consist solely of a reporter walking into some small-town diner and asking the locals for their opinions? 

And I’m not just talking about this election season. It is year after year, in diner after diner, that we hear from the supposed average America about the issues that matter to him.

Never do these reporters walk into a pupuseria in Los Angeles, or an Indian restaurant in Queens, or a Thai place in Chicago to ask the locals for their insights.

Apparently, that would be elitist, or politically correct, or electorally suspect, or some such nonsense. 

The truth, of course, is that the opinion of a Latina in California is simply not viewed as an authentic representation of the “real America.” That status is reserved solely for rural American baby boomers.

You can also see this in the idea that Trump’s tariffs — which affect places like Iowa more directly — are a fabled “bread and butter issue” that genuine Americans talk about around their kitchen tables. However, immigration reform is a “wedge issue” that appeals only to racial agitators and hippies.

Aren’t you happy to have that cleared up?

Still, given enough time, places like Iowa will eventually become so sparsely populated that even the most old-school journalist will ask, “Why are we still coming here?”

That is, of course, unless immigrants and young multiethnic families start moving in to reshape the area. At that point, you may see a reporter walk into a Des Moines carniceria and ask the owner — a Gen Z woman of Mexican and Korean ancestry — what she thinks about the candidates.

I can’t wait to hear her answer.

I’ve been called arrogant a few times in my life.

And it’s not just angry readers or the stray co-worker who have said that I’m bossy. I’ve had friends tell me that I was arrogant (whatever — they’re just jealous because I’m so much better than they are).

In any case, the dangers of arrogance are well-established. Pride goeth before the fall, hubris got us into Iraq, etc.

That’s all true of course. But it’s also true that genuine arrogance does not originate in confidence. Its root cause is its theoretical opposite, which is insecurity. 

Honestly, does anyone believe that our easily agitated president — lashing out over every perceived slight and spewing all-caps threats over Twitter — acts like a confident, secure individual who knows what he is doing? It’s textbook bullying that masks his insecurity.

By the way, if you think Trump actually does know what he’s doing, you are highly delusional.

Now, if we mix the hazards of insecurity with one of our culture’s favorite demons — toxic masculinity — we get a new, 21^st-century problem that absolutely no one was clamoring for. I’m talking about fragile masculinity.

What the hell is that?

Well, fragile masculinity refers to the fact that “many men feel pressure to look and behave in stereotypically masculine ways — or risk losing their status as ‘real men.’” American machismo is a bastard, and this “unforgiving standard of maleness makes some men worry that they’re falling short.” These men are said to experience “fragile masculinity.”

OK, that all makes sense. But what can this disturbing phenomenon tell us about the times that we are living in?

You might be interested to know that politics “provides a way that fragile men can reaffirm their masculinity.” They do this “by supporting tough politicians and policies” that reassure others (and themselves) of “their own manliness.” 

And yes, a recent study has shown that “Trump appeals to men with fragile masculinity.”

Yikes.

Of course, you may be skeptical that researchers could measure something as ambiguous as fragile masculinity. Well, these scientists are way ahead of you.

The researchers didn’t just ask guys, “Hey, are you feeling fragile these days?” Although the responses to such a question would have been a hilarious YouTube video.

Instead, the study analyzed Google searches that indicated “a high level of concern about masculinity.” Specifically, the researchers identified phrases such as “how to get girls,” “penis enlargement,” and “testosterone,” among others. The scientists then looked at this sad grab-bag of phrases and, after accounting for demographic attributes such as education levels and racial composition, they discovered that Republican candidates “drew more support in areas with higher levels of fragile masculinity.”

Or as the researchers put it, support for Trump was higher “in areas that had more searches for topics such as ‘erectile dysfunction.’” 

So now we’re back to this being a fucking hilarious study.

In essence, there are a lot of very insecure guys out there who are motivated to support Trump because his unrepentant bullying and tough-guy talk makes them feel manly. These omega males appreciate a chief executive who boasts about the size of his penis on national television, because they fantasize about doing the same thing themselves (although if the study is accurate, they may not have any real reason to boast… ahem).

By the way, the researchers found that, like so many aspects of American culture, this all snowballed with Trump. The study found that there was no significant relationship between fragile masculinity and voting in previous elections, which suggests that “fragile masculinity has now become a stronger predictor of voting behavior.”

Furthermore, the researchers theorize that Trump’s “re-engineering of the GOP as a party inextricably tied to many Americans’ identity concerns — whether based on race, religion or gender — will ensure that fragile masculinity remains a force in politics.”

So how do we stop this scourge? How do we keep insecure, fragile guys from wrecking the nation as part of a pathetic, futile quest to feel manly?

Well, regardless of the course of action we choose, one thing is certain.

It’s time to man up.

We have heard from disgraced presidents and esteemed journalists, from nervous demographers and right-wing bigots, from talk show hosts and the oversampled, oversimplified residents of mythical Middle America.

Any they all agree.

Today’s immigrants — primarily Latinos — are just not assimilating. In fact, they seem determined to sequester themselves in ethnic enclaves and keep jabbering away in Spanish. They certainly are not merging into mainstream American culture the way previous immigrants (of good and pure European stock) once did.

Harrumph.

Well, there’s just one problem with that analysis. Actually, there several problems with it, ranging from petty ignorance to overt racism, but we’ll focus on one flaw in the argument: 

It’s not true.

You see, numerous studies have found that Latino immigrants “assimilate very well,” when looking at such factors as educational attainment, labor market integration, and yes, English proficiency. The assertion that Hispanics refuse to join American society is a well-known conservative talking point that has the unfortunate trait of being a pathetic lie.

Now, one can argue over what we mean by “assimilation,” and even whether the term itself is prejudicial. But there is no debate that Latino immigrants and their children are adapting to America very well.

Still, what about those sainted immigrants of yesteryear? We have all heard myriad variations of “My grandfather came here from Norway and never spoke Norwegian again!” Or perhaps it was “My grandmother arrived from Italy and banished everything remotely Italian from her house forever!”

At the risk of busting two myths in one article, I have to point out that this trope — the European immigrant who became “American” overnight — is ludicrous.

Hey, I’ve written before about my home state of Wisconsin, which had a thriving German-immigrant community well into the 20^thcentury.

But since we’re on the topics of Germans — and how perfectly they assimilated into America — this might be a good place to point out that as late as 1938, the German-language Staats Zeitung newspaper was selling 80,000 copies a day in New York City.

This was right around the time when 20,000 Nazis held a rally at Madison Square Garden, an event sponsored by “the German American Bund, an organization with headquarters in Manhattan and thousands of members across the United States.” 

Yes, I said 20,000 Nazis in Madison Square Garden.

The German American Bund “had parades, bookstores and summer camps for youth,” offering a vision that “was a cocktail of white supremacy and fascist ideology.” 

Also, there was that whole Nazi spy ring, made up primarily of German ex-pats, who tried to steal American military secrets and pass them to the Fuhrer.

So I’m pretty sure that rallying thousands in support of your homeland’s murderous ideology, and actively working to defeat your adopted country in a war, isn’t quite assimilating perfectly.

My intention is not to demonize European immigrants. Just to be clear, the vast majority of Germans who moved to America displayed great patriotism. Also, that Nazi spy ring was broken up by a German immigrant who hated fascists.

Plus, I married a fine Wisconsin girl of German ancestry, so there’s that as well.

The point is that we have allowed Latino immigrants to be slandered, slurred, and denigrated, insisting that they can never truly be part of America. And we have done this while shouting that the European immigrants of a century ago became instant patriots about nine seconds after they set foot on U.S. soil.

Neither assertion is true, and to perpetuate them goes beyond simple disservice to the truth. It advances the goals of racists and xenophobes. It harms America.

One final point about Nazis. Recently, students at a Georgia university burned the books of Latina author “following a lecture in which she argued with participants about white privilege and diversity.”

Burning books, of course, is a straight-up fascist move. And this begs the question:

When are those students going to assimilate to American values?

The downside of having 10,000 books that you want to read before you die is that, inevitably, some pretty good titles wind up languishing on your shelves for years. That’s why I only recently got around to reading a bestseller from years ago: The Devil in the White House… Sorry, I meant The Devil in the White City. Ha — I’m sure there’s nothing Freudian about that, nope.

Anyway, The Devil in the White City is a nonfiction book about two overlapping narratives.

First, we have the story of Daniel Burnham, the chief planner of the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893, which was an urban marvel of such grandiosity that its influence is still felt today in the fields of architecture, pop culture, and urban planning. 

Second, we have the tale of H. H. Holmes, notorious for being America’s first serial killer (or at least the first to achieve nationwide infamy).

Both Burnham and Holmes reached the pinnacles of their careers in Chicago at the same time, which is what gives The Devil in the White City its thematic structure. The fact that one designed buildings and the other strangled women is a dissonance that it’s best not to dwell on. 

In any case, one fact about the dual subjects of the book stood out to me.

You see, Burnham’s early life was one of mediocrity, if not outright failure. He sucked at school, bounced around from job to job, and only became successful in architecture after wiping out in other fields.

But he was a white guy who was good looking and charming, and society gave him numerous chances to fulfill his potential.

Holmes was a bald-faced liar who cheated people out of their money and displayed overt sociopathic tendencies.

But he was a white guy who was good looking and charming, and society gave him numerous chances to fulfill his potential.

White City, indeed.

Both architect and murderer benefitted from white privilege, which at that time was so ingrained that it didn’t even have its own name (it was just called “America”). And even though white privilege has been a powerful force in our society for centuries, many people still refuse to believe that it even exists.

Many of these people also refuse to believe that glaciers are melting and that guns are a problem, but I digress.

The point is that Burnham, for all his brilliance, simply never would have had a chance to thrive if he had been black. And he certainly wouldn’t have had the luxury of messing up repeatedly with little consequence. The guy knew that he would be ok, regardless of what he did, and eventually, he created something great.

Holmes was able to con and swindle people all over Chicago, kidnap women and children, and quite literally get away with murder because no one ever considered that this respectable white dude in a suit was anything other than a dignified member of the elite. The guy knew that he would be ok, regardless of what he did, and eventually, he created hell on earth.

Of course, Burnham and Holmes lived in a bygone era, and we have (hopefully) progressed just a little. But we have to wonder how many Latinos and African Americans of towering potential never get even half a chance to make an impact. 

Furthermore, we have to ponder if there are any well-connected white men who drip with incompetence but nevertheless achieve positions of great influence, ultimately doing nothing more than enriching themselves and unleashing misery upon the planet.

No — nobody like that springs to mind…

Yes, 2020 is an election year. Also, an impeachment year.  And possibly the end of civilization as we know it if we don’t finally get serious about climate change and the surging menace of neo-fascist racism.

But you know the really big development of the year thus far? That’s right — I have a new book out.

My latest novel is a sequel to my first book, and you can grab a copy here.

What’s it about? 

Well, The Bridge to Pandemonium furthers the adventures of Abraxas Hernandez, reluctant detective, and it will inevitably be the greatest Latino-themed murder-mystery black comedy that you will read this year. Here’s summary:

It was supposed to be an easy assignment. But when Abraxas Hernandez gets hired to follow a cheating spouse, somehow the whole situation devolves into a grisly murder. Hey, it happens. So Abraxas and his partner (and ex-girlfriend) Vic start investigating, only to encounter a freaky hodgepodge of suspects — including a band of religious zealots, a Marxist stripper, and a pair of secret government operatives who communicate mostly via veiled threats. Oh, and there’s also that frazzled tech millionaire who just can’t stop kidnapping people. In their quest to solve the murder, Abraxas and Vic shatter alibis, dodge bullets, and slam the occasional tequila shot. But when they discover the secret behind the gruesome crime, they learn the full scope of the terrifying scheme that has ensnared them. Plus, some other people start getting killed, and that is not cool at all.

Pick up a copy today. And thanks.