For the past month and some days, the first thing I've done every morning after silencing the alarm clock on my phone is swyping into the waiting search bar these words: 'news', 'Oregon', and 'militia'.
My perspective on the standoff has been skewed. Any time I've tried to take the pulse of America's discontent, it's been through the thick, insulated sleeve of the camo field shirt that is my Facebook news feed. The number of "bring down the Government" comments I read on a daily basis had me half wondering if half of the nation was going to clear the ammunition from their panic rooms and head for the Northwest.
Yeah, well... they didn't. And that general response, the lack of hoo-rah, the hanging back, the reluctance to engage until maybe after the playoffs were done, has fostered within me a very specific sense of happiness -- one that doesn't come from a good place. Have you ever been secretly delighted when someone tries and fails to start a standing ovation? It's a lot like that.
I came along for this ride just for the comedy, but before long I knew a lot of names and backstories, and I'd have about a dozen tabs open at any one time on my browser to accompany whatever article I was reading. I self-identify as someone who doesn't like, or understand the appeal of, reality television, but if The Bachelor required that I do my own research and sift through raw audio in order to construct a narrative, there's a chance my limbic system would light up like a casino.
That dopamine hit is generously propelled by the occupiers' ceaseless compulsion to record and broadcast every little thing that has run through their minds and several things that haven't. Jon Ritzheimer, one of the more colorful participants, preferred to announce to his family via tearful self shot video that his dedication to the Constitution was greater than his dedication to his family. And then, off he went -- to stand around a campfire and quote John Adams.
The thing I didn't realize going into this is the staggering amount of internet media that is dedicated to exactly this cocktail of ideas. I'm now aware of a gaggle of YouTube channels and live feeds dedicated to, and seemingly rooting for, the idea that we are just moments away from slipping into martial law. A guy named Pete Santilli contributed to the cause with what can be classified as performance art, reading the Declaration of Independence through a bullhorn in front of an FBI branch, seemingly to limited effect. "You know who I am!" he shouted at his conclusion, in a video with his name in the header, on a YouTube channel called The Pete Santilli Show, with his picture as an avatar, so... yeah. Probably.
Santilli was among the first eight arrested. And I can't imagine his response being anything other than equal parts of outrage and delight. [1]
It's unclear what tactical purpose is served by randomly placed broadcasting devices.[2][3] Is it JUST for guys like me? It must be. As recruitment material, I don't think it's going to have its intended effect.
My perspective on the standoff has been skewed. Any time I've tried to take the pulse of America's discontent, it's been through the thick, insulated sleeve of the camo field shirt that is my Facebook news feed. The number of "bring down the Government" comments I read on a daily basis had me half wondering if half of the nation was going to clear the ammunition from their panic rooms and head for the Northwest.
Yeah, well... they didn't. And that general response, the lack of hoo-rah, the hanging back, the reluctance to engage until maybe after the playoffs were done, has fostered within me a very specific sense of happiness -- one that doesn't come from a good place. Have you ever been secretly delighted when someone tries and fails to start a standing ovation? It's a lot like that.
I came along for this ride just for the comedy, but before long I knew a lot of names and backstories, and I'd have about a dozen tabs open at any one time on my browser to accompany whatever article I was reading. I self-identify as someone who doesn't like, or understand the appeal of, reality television, but if The Bachelor required that I do my own research and sift through raw audio in order to construct a narrative, there's a chance my limbic system would light up like a casino.
That dopamine hit is generously propelled by the occupiers' ceaseless compulsion to record and broadcast every little thing that has run through their minds and several things that haven't. Jon Ritzheimer, one of the more colorful participants, preferred to announce to his family via tearful self shot video that his dedication to the Constitution was greater than his dedication to his family. And then, off he went -- to stand around a campfire and quote John Adams.
The thing I didn't realize going into this is the staggering amount of internet media that is dedicated to exactly this cocktail of ideas. I'm now aware of a gaggle of YouTube channels and live feeds dedicated to, and seemingly rooting for, the idea that we are just moments away from slipping into martial law. A guy named Pete Santilli contributed to the cause with what can be classified as performance art, reading the Declaration of Independence through a bullhorn in front of an FBI branch, seemingly to limited effect. "You know who I am!" he shouted at his conclusion, in a video with his name in the header, on a YouTube channel called The Pete Santilli Show, with his picture as an avatar, so... yeah. Probably.
Santilli was among the first eight arrested. And I can't imagine his response being anything other than equal parts of outrage and delight. [1]
It's unclear what tactical purpose is served by randomly placed broadcasting devices.[2][3] Is it JUST for guys like me? It must be. As recruitment material, I don't think it's going to have its intended effect.
Although, what it gave us was a lavish gift: the layered and satisfying irony of conspiracy theorists bent on identifying federal operatives within the movement. Among them, Mark McConnell whose sin was a less messianic description of the LaVoy Finicum shooting than that being offered by other witnesses, and yet matched the FBI footage that was released days later.
The Finicum shooting is the only thing approaching the martyrdom that would lend legitimacy to the stated fear of the occupiers. It's conceivable from the sheer number of times that the phrase "prepared to die" has been uttered into YouTube bound video streams that their patriotism, fierce as it may be, is cut with a deep need to validate their self-worth.
Finicum's (on camera) pronouncements of preferring death to imprisonment, of saying he'd only draw on someone who drew on him were so prescient of the circumstances surrounding his death that it's as if he said those things just before blowing out the candles on a cake. And yet, the survivors see it as evidence of the government really just wanting to kill them all, of setting up a roadblock knowing with Kasparov-like precision that events would unfold just as they did. [4]
It's hard not to notice that the occupiers view the United States Government the same way that Muslim radicals do, as an all-reaching entity which is nearly supernatural in its swiftness and efficiency. And this would seem to stand in contrast to the bureaucracy-mired, slow-moving ruling body that presents itself through word and deed as being barely worth our attention. Although, they criticize the Government along those lines as well. There are a lot of ways to hate the Government. They seem to have plenty of time.
As happens any time I stare long enough at maddness, it breaks my heart. As I type this, I'm listening to a playback of the last four holdouts on the last evening of the occupation. The movement was desperate and ever-hopeful for the groundswell of sympathetic militias (which you'd presume to be any group who bothered to refer to themselves as a militia) who might yet arrive and challenge the federal agents. Among the last of the occupiers, Sandra Lynn Anderson described over a glitchy cell connection that she was certain the had done what God wanted because the Lord had moved her son to break all connections with she and her husband, giving them the freedom to do this. That was her evidence. This whole thing, for her, might just be about validating that tragedy.
All of them are at once laughable, heroic, pathetic, terrified, steadfast and delusional. They are a rattling kaleidoscope of human circumstance that will show you exactly the form you want, but the full spectacle of which can only be seen if you can take in every faint and shrinking shape.
[1] I'm reluctant to admit any kindred-spiritedness with Santilli, but my conscience dictates that I tell you that I once got an 'F' in high school English for an assignment that required the student to rewrite Benjamin Franklin's 13 Virtues in the voice of some other notable figure, and that the figure I chose was Larry Flynt, and that my paper went in some directions that suggested that I was really just looking for trouble -- and that my response to the grade was precisely the one I described above.
[2] My favorite moment in the considerable bulk of footage I've watched is Blaine Cooper discussing his exit strategy within audio range of a live feed camera that Dan Fry set up for no obvious reason and without announcement. The conversation concluded with the realization of what had happened and the statement, "Nothin' like given the whole f@#$in' plan away..." (Turns off camera).
[3] Check that. My new favorite moment is when someone said that they were waiting to hear from Tom Arnold. Later, it became obvious that they meant Mike Arnold, Ammon Bundy's attorney, but there was a very surreal moment there.
The Finicum shooting is the only thing approaching the martyrdom that would lend legitimacy to the stated fear of the occupiers. It's conceivable from the sheer number of times that the phrase "prepared to die" has been uttered into YouTube bound video streams that their patriotism, fierce as it may be, is cut with a deep need to validate their self-worth.
Finicum's (on camera) pronouncements of preferring death to imprisonment, of saying he'd only draw on someone who drew on him were so prescient of the circumstances surrounding his death that it's as if he said those things just before blowing out the candles on a cake. And yet, the survivors see it as evidence of the government really just wanting to kill them all, of setting up a roadblock knowing with Kasparov-like precision that events would unfold just as they did. [4]
It's hard not to notice that the occupiers view the United States Government the same way that Muslim radicals do, as an all-reaching entity which is nearly supernatural in its swiftness and efficiency. And this would seem to stand in contrast to the bureaucracy-mired, slow-moving ruling body that presents itself through word and deed as being barely worth our attention. Although, they criticize the Government along those lines as well. There are a lot of ways to hate the Government. They seem to have plenty of time.
As happens any time I stare long enough at maddness, it breaks my heart. As I type this, I'm listening to a playback of the last four holdouts on the last evening of the occupation. The movement was desperate and ever-hopeful for the groundswell of sympathetic militias (which you'd presume to be any group who bothered to refer to themselves as a militia) who might yet arrive and challenge the federal agents. Among the last of the occupiers, Sandra Lynn Anderson described over a glitchy cell connection that she was certain the had done what God wanted because the Lord had moved her son to break all connections with she and her husband, giving them the freedom to do this. That was her evidence. This whole thing, for her, might just be about validating that tragedy.
All of them are at once laughable, heroic, pathetic, terrified, steadfast and delusional. They are a rattling kaleidoscope of human circumstance that will show you exactly the form you want, but the full spectacle of which can only be seen if you can take in every faint and shrinking shape.
[1] I'm reluctant to admit any kindred-spiritedness with Santilli, but my conscience dictates that I tell you that I once got an 'F' in high school English for an assignment that required the student to rewrite Benjamin Franklin's 13 Virtues in the voice of some other notable figure, and that the figure I chose was Larry Flynt, and that my paper went in some directions that suggested that I was really just looking for trouble -- and that my response to the grade was precisely the one I described above.
[2] My favorite moment in the considerable bulk of footage I've watched is Blaine Cooper discussing his exit strategy within audio range of a live feed camera that Dan Fry set up for no obvious reason and without announcement. The conversation concluded with the realization of what had happened and the statement, "Nothin' like given the whole f@#$in' plan away..." (Turns off camera).
[3] Check that. My new favorite moment is when someone said that they were waiting to hear from Tom Arnold. Later, it became obvious that they meant Mike Arnold, Ammon Bundy's attorney, but there was a very surreal moment there.
[4] I'm not convinced that the convention of chessmasters looking X number of moves ahead can have any validity in the real, sloppy, gross world outside of chess for any value of X>2. For most of us, that value also applies within chess.
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