Bully Pulpit
And the mighty meek
The launch of the final season of Stranger Things after a multi-year delay (and the marriage of its former child star Eleven to the son of Jon Bon Jovi) was a hugely anticipated event in my extended household on the eve of Thanksgiving. This series, in each massively action+bon mot+80s tunes-packed iteration, offers darkly lit nerd empowerment not seen since Elliot and pals fly their bikes in ET.
We freaks and geeks wince in pained solidarity when Eddie was tormented by the jocks for being a culty murderer, which he wasn’t, or when poor pudgy Dusty Buns gets his face pulverized by the same dumb thugs in a cemetery; we cheer for the girl skater power of Max, dead and then risen from coma, sharp and sharpshooting Nancy, and the nutty but sweet ramblings of lesbian Robin.
Wait, what’s that sound interrupting this teen dream team reverie?
Quiet, Piggy.
Oh no, Trump is on an all-night bully-bender again and we’re right back on the ground getting kicked in the gut by the numbnuts. The President of the United States is calling a female reporter Piggy. Really? I guess it could be worse. He could have said, “Shut up, Piggy.” That would have been even more triggering, if it’s possible to scale this shit.
The effect of this is that Piggy has become a Trump meme (now more than ever) because surely what he names others is only ever what he is. A big pig who projects his darkest parts outwards. Sleepy Joe? While we watch his eyelids shutter for minutes on end in public naps displayed all over the world. Crooked Hillary? Says the convicted felon grifter.
The “Piggy” tossed out so flippantly with no response from anyone (a handful of male reporters alongside the woman silent) pissed me off more for the lack of reaction it was met with in real time than the act itself. Where are the heroes who are brave enough to respond in the moment needed rather than just safely rage later online? The teens who take on Vecna and all the versions of his toothy flower-faced monsters would do better than this.
“Piggy” seeped into my head and had me suddenly—urgently—wanting to read Charlotte’s Web to upend this taunt, which I’ve started, and will report more on later since it’s lovelier than I even remembered, also spurring another required read of the moment in George Orwell’s Animal Farm. Enter quintessential middle America farmland (Trump’s base?) where pigs are slated for slaughter. It’s a given. Normal part of everyday life, so deal with it. But then Charlotte, fiercely principled hairy grey barn spider, decides to defend the very existence of this runty pig Wilbur in this extraordinarily magical way. First the kind human girl Fern fights for him, and gets him saved from immediate murder when he is too small to bother with. Then when bigger and slated to be eaten like any normal pig, Charlotte steps in to do the work of enthroning this pig for life in the sacred category of the sort immortalized and ribboned at a state fair.
Charlotte fights for Wilbur’s dignity and right to thrive (more than just survive) with her incredible words, which are spoken in a very articulate way that seems to only be heard by sensitive children and animals. But for the rest of us: she spends the night weaving just a few simple ones into her web like a miracle, careful and intentional.
First, she slowly weaves, Some Pig.
Then, wanting just one great word to seal the deal, Terrific.
Wilbur stands blushing and beaming underneath. What a word, what a world. He becomes a star. The incredible power of language. Carloads of folks line up to behold. The underpig saved by the smart girl. (Personally I think they should be lining up to praise Charlotte and not Wilbur exactly, but isn’t that always the way with the secret self-sacrificing invisible work of women.)
If Charlotte were President, what would the United States look like? Imagine a woman in power like this spider—deliberate, peaceful, generous. Rather, we have ignorance and violence.
Are you stupid? Are you a stupid person? You’re just asking questions because you’re a stupid person.
Another slew of assaults come in like rat-a-tat slaps. “Piggy” came to Bloomberg White House correspondent Catherine Lucey, which is funny I guess when I saw some defender online claim he actually said “Peggy,” as if that’s her name, which it is decidedly not. (Not that the President is good with names either.)
This time, the “stupid” slap comes to Nancy Cordes, CBS’s White House correspondent. These poor talented career reporters who should feel like they are at the height of their lives. Look at them now, on Air Force One or at the White House (partially demolished), meeting with the Leader of the Free World (showing signs of dementia or drug addiction or depravity at best). And none of that matters. Belittled. Infantilized.
Cue the obvious: he is the stupid one. The one with the cognitive tests identifying elephants. All these women he insults, they really pile up. All the binders of women he’s demeaned. Like the thousand or so survivors who he is claims are part of the Epstein “hoax.” At what point can we anticipate an angry stampede?
But no, here we go, he’s going after the Somalis now.
Garbage.
Did he really just say that? Indeed he did. Louder now, on repeat. About Somali-Americans (as their Mayor noted, they are Americans) in Minnesota in general: “Garbage,” he called them. “We don’t want them.” And Congresswoman Ilhan Omar and her pals in particular: “Omar is garbage. Her friends are garbage. They do nothing but complain…nothing but bitch.”
Hmmm. Where’s that list of words that a man should never use against a woman. Oh here it is. Slut. Bitch. Shut up. Calm down. And many more here. We are venting, complaining, having a fit, having our period, hormonal, hysterical.
Remember the grace of Barack Obama? How he sang “Amazing Grace.” The dignity of his words in moments when the nation needed quiet, gentle wisdom to heal. The tears in his eyes for the children of Sandy Hook and so many others. The way he tried to bring people together rather than apart from this Bully Pulpit of his office. Now the Bully Pulpit is a whole different gilded shade of ugly.
What is this term, and its origin, and why the heck is Trump taking the Bully part so literally?
“Bully Pulpit” is more positive than this President makes it sound. An article in the Political Dictionary defines it:
A bully pulpit is a public office or position of authority that provides the holder with an opportunity to speak out and be listened to on any matter.
In theory, the expression could refer to any position of authority. In practice, it is usually used to describe the presidency.
Its origin:
The phrase bully pulpit is attributed to President Theodore Roosevelt, who exclaimed the words in response to critics of his leadership style.
Roosevelt said: “I suppose my critics will call that preaching, but I have got such a bully pulpit” as he wrote an address to Congress.
Roosevelt often used the adjective “bully” to describe an event or action that was good or entertaining. The noun pulpit refers to a raised stand used for readings during religious ceremonies.
The bully pulpit in Roosevelt’s mind wasn’t about pummeling legislators with presidential authority; rather, he believed the president could encourage the public to push their legislators on behalf of his agenda.
Roosevelt, who was by the way, an “avid reader and prolific writer.” And rather than Bully Pulpit-ing his nomination for a Nobel Peace Prize, did actually win one for “negotiating an end to the Russo-Japanese War.”
The bully pulpit power has enlarged as communication means increase through the generations. While Franklin D. Roosevelt used a fireside chat, now we have Donald on Twitter and Truth Social.
Modern presidents have extended the concept of the bully pulpit into the digital realm, using social media platforms to directly address the electorate and push their policy agendas.
But actually bully? That wasn’t the plan.
SEDITIOUS BEHAVIOR FROM TRAITORS…punishable by DEATH!
Wait, what? Who are we targeting now? Well more service-oriented congressmembers of course. Who dared share a video with troops urging them to follow only lawful orders. As if law and order is suddenly the enemy. Not to mention free speech.
Nothing this President says is ok, and nothing his Press Secretary (or anyone else) says to defend him is ok. Why do people just stand there and take it when this happens. None of this should get a pass. Bite back. Dear Reporters and anyone else in the room, please interrupt Karoline Leavitt when she claims her boss is just “frank and open and honest to your faces rather than hiding behind your backs…the most transparent President in history.” Say no when Trump says these slurs. Thank you, Senator/retired astronaut Mark Kelly for saying, “I’ve given too much to this country to be silenced by bullies who care more about their own power than protecting the Constitution.” Thank you Congresswoman Omar, calling his obsession with her and her people “creepy, “political theater,” and “disgraceful.” Thank you former VP contender and Minnesota Governor, Tim Walz, calling him a “weak, cruel man.” Thank you to all the hilarious mock-trolling from California Governor Gavin Newsom.
And thank you, cast of Stranger Things, back when Trump was just getting started in Presidency 1.0, who were busy winning the 23rd Annual SAG Award for “Outstanding Performance by an Ensemble in a Drama Series,” accepting the award in 2017 over other royal nominees The Crown and Game of Thrones. A bunch of regular randos—pay no mind to Winona’s face—flanking hero Hopper as he issues a momentous speech, worth every passionate word below:
And I would just like to say that in light of all that is going on in the world today it’s difficult to celebrate the already celebrated Stranger Things,
But this award from you, who take your craft seriously
and earnestly believe like me that great acting can change the world
is a call to arms from our fellow craftsmen and women to go deeper.
And through our art to battle against fear, self-centeredness,
and exclusivity of our predominantly narcissistic culture.
And through our craft to cultivate a more empathetic and understanding society
by revealing intimate truths that serve as a forceful reminder to folks
that when they feel broken and afraid and tired they are not alone.
We are united in that we are all human beings
And we are all together on this horrible, painful, joyous,
exciting and mysterious ride that is being alive.
Now as we act in the continuing narrative of Stranger Things,
We 1983 mid-Westerners will repel bullies,
we will shelter freaks and outcasts, those who have no home.
We will get past the lies, we will hunt monsters.
And when we are lost amid the hypocrisy
and the casual violence of certain individuals and institutions,
we will, as per Chief Jim Hopper, punch some people in the face
when they seek to destroy the meek and the disenfranchised and the marginalized.
And we will do it all with soul, with heart and with joy.
We thank you for this responsibility. Thank you.
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
So it says in Matthew 5:5 from the Sermon on the Mount if we’re going to consider ourselves Christian. I’m not one to quote Bible phrases but it’s worth nothing that “meek” in the biblical way is way better than meekness in the common vernacular. While meek may seem passive, weak, the Bible hails it as literally Something Jesus Would Do. Humble and nonreactive, but not in a wimpy wallflower way. BibleStudyTools unpacks this:
The opposite of meekness is defined by Merriam-Webster as egotistic, pompous, haughty, and aggressive. Through this, we see a different picture of meekness. It isn’t a doormat mentality or silence in the face of injustice. Instead, it doesn’t retaliate when wronged and doesn’t exude pride and narcissism. The type of person most people would think would rule the earth likely exhibits some of the traits listed above. At least, it fits the bill for the Roman emperors during the time of Jesus.
There is a time to hunt monsters, repel bullies (Roman emperors in the time of Jesus or a certain President right now) and shelter freaks like our lives depend on it, because they do. And sometimes, this might mean, if not exactly “an eye for an eye” (because the world would go blind), at least punching some knuckleheads in the face, even if only with our one smart wonderful word. A terrific retort. Because—spoiler alert—the kids will get their Vecna in the end. They have to.
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Won't surprise me if the Bully in Chief starts shitting his pants in public soon. He's really losing control. (And note: I did not spell it "loosing." So many people do that and it drives me nuts.)
P.S. I'm sure you've noticed the extreme Republican women are starting to turn on him.
There is a lot here to unpack as always, my wonderfully wordy talented friend, and I caught up with Stranger Things last night and it’s so good for all the reasons you say. I am not a fan of Hopper any longer after Lily Allen dropped her divorce truth album about their marriage, but I put aside my real life qualms to enjoy some fiction. Because as you say real life is a fucking mess right now and we all need stories especially good ones like these, where kids are the ones leading us out of chaos.