Today’s column was going to be about the photo above and this nation’s emergent Cognitive Immune System. Instead, it’s going to be about people who are active participants in the real world.
My sister Caroline turned me onto this goldmine of FactSlaps. So this edition is dedicated to her and the singularity of the universe. It comes from 100people.org, and sourced to several serious fact-finders, including the UN, UNICEF and, of all things, the CIA’s “World Fact Book.”
The following is a detailed version of our 100 People statistics, updated in 2016 to reflect the world population having reached almost 7.5 billion people. Source information for each of the categories is available at the bottom of the page.
If the World were 100 PEOPLE:
Gender
50 would be female
50 would be male
Age
25 would be 0-14
66 would be 15-64
9 would be 65 and older
Geography
60 would be from Asia
16 would be from Africa
10 would be from Europe
9 would be from Latin America & the Caribbean
5 would be from North America
Religion
31 would be Christian
23 would be Muslim
16 would not be religious or identify themselves
as being aligned with a particular faith
15 would be Hindu
7 would be Buddhist
8 would believe in other religions
First Language
12 would speak Chinese
6 would speak Spanish
5 would speak English
4 would speak Hindi
3 would speak Arabic
3 would speak Bengali
3 would speak Portuguese
2 would speak Russian
2 would speak Japanese
60 would speak other languages
Overall Literacy
86 would be able to read and write
14 would not
Literacy by Gender
90% of males would be able to read and write
10% of males would not be able to read and write
82% of females would be able to read and write
18% of females would not be able to read and write
Education
78% of eligible males would have a
primary school education
76% of eligible females would have a
primary school education66% of eligible males would have a
secondary school education
63% of eligible females would have a
secondary school education
7 would have a college degree
Shelter
78 people would have a place to shelter them
from the wind and the rain, but 22 would not
Urban/Rural
54 would be urban dwellers
46 would be rural dwellers
Drinking Water
91 would have access to safe drinking water
9 would use unimproved water
Food
11 would be undernourished
Infectious Disease
1 would have HIV/AIDS
1 would have tuberculosis
Poverty
11 would live on less than $1.90 USD per day
Electricity
82 would have electricity
18 would not
Technology
65 would be cell phone users
47 would be active internet users
95 live in an area with a mobile- cellular network
Sanitation
68 would have improved sanitation
14 would have no toilets
18 would have unimproved toilets
And then we took our eyes off the ball. Or rather, we became hypnotized and paralyzed by the spinning ball atop Curly Neal’s finger as he juked by for an easy layup.
After all, what are we in the news media if not a reiteration of the Washington Generals, the hapless team that squares off against The Harlem Globetrotters? And while Donald Trump has no certifiable skills yet discovered by science, we still went for his head fake last week — the claim that he’s been taking Hydroxychloroquine for a couple weeks now.
Before that tumble, we had been near-noble against a high tide of proud oblivion. The 24/7s (at least those not named Fox von Foxington) had managed to feature real scientists in a pandemic. We looked to Johns Hopkins for death tolls, hot spots and steps to protect ourselves.
Sure, Trumptards proudly donned bacterial suicide vests, threw away their own masks and demanded that the public be gathered for target practice. Some drank aquarium cleaner on the advice of Dr. Bone Spurs. But that’s Darwin and America: Ignorance is not only deadly bliss, it’s guaranteed in our Bill of Rights.
Then May 18 happened. What’s most puzzling about the media reaction to Trump’s allegation is that it broke the only two Commandments of News:
It must be true. Minutes after the hydroxy stunt, the 24/7s nearly trampled each other to get doctors on-air, urging people to not take the Tide Pod Challenge to fight coronavirus.
It’s one thing to warn the public about the president’s quack recommendations. But Donnie simply claimed it as a personal practice. If he’d said he uses peanut butter to treat hemorrhoids, would we have doctors urging people to not salve their anuses with Extra Crunchy Skippy?
When people die from overdosing on a malaria drug (does anyone doubt they will?), the deaths will be at the feet of those who reported Trump’s unproven claim as true.
Imagine, for a second, that president Kool-Aid said he’d paid $45 in taxes in 2015 — a figure that’s probably $45 more than he did. Would we scurry to get financial experts on TV to talk about the broken tax system? Or serve up lectures on the dangers of income gaps?
Of course not. We’d demand to see the W-2s, as we know we can trust the dimwit as far as we can spit. We should admit we went for the easy story, one that simply complained about what a dumbass Trump is. THAT may be true. But can we say the same for any of the words that spew from his oddly-pursed lips?
To abridge Tom Waits, we went for the free cheddar in the mousetrap, and got snapped.
2. It must be news. This one is trickier, and we often confuse “Fake” with “Non.” Even the word “news” is subjective. One man’s trash, and all that.
But this we can say, unequivocally: The man has tried to peddle at least 13 major products onto Americans, nearly all with some degree of failure. From steaks to board games to universities to vodka, the man doesn’t endorse anything in which he doesn’t have an investment. How much has Trump staked in hydroxy?
Now that’s a news story.
And consider the timing of the “admission.” His Secretary of State, Mike Pompeo, is the president’s un-indicted dealer in arms sales to the Saudis, the flying wedge against allegations of Russian meddling, and the index finger of Trump’s conspiracy claim that China weaponized the virus in a lab.
But Mike Pompeo doesn’t sell. Panic porn does.
It’s not too late to get out of the dog house. A presidential election may be arriving in November. We should have enough time to prove we’ve learned to go poo-poo outside.
I used to be embarrassed to have been born in the South.
Surely, a taproot was the teasing I got from friends and classmates I grew up with in Detroit, and later in Grosse Pointe Park across the street. They’d heard my parents’ drawl, learned I was born in South Carolina, and smelled blood in the water.
All children have at least one exposed flank. The arch of my Achilles was the hick taunt. And the kids knew just when to launch the barrage; around summertime dusk, as light was calling an end to the day’s football/baseball/basketball/bike rides.
“Scawwwt!” they’d howl out in an outlandish (but piercing) southern accent. “Tahm fa suppah!”
So as I aged I was proud to tell people I was from Michigan. And, essentially, I am: I moved to Detroit in the middle of first grade, stayed in the area through high school, went to the University of Michigan and returned for a professional stint at the Detroit News.
I don’t know why, but I always thought of Michigan as a progressive, if not liberal-leaning, place. Perhaps I was too young to see my state through a political prism, but in retrospect I realize I was just in Michigan’s liberal pockets: the metro Detroit area; and Ann Arbor. At the News, my beat was cops, and that only further confirmed my blue bias. Black mayors ran the town and minority council members were the norm, not exception.
So when I became politically aware, I brought along my political blind spots. And when Trump took my state — and the nation — in 2016, the only thing that dropped faster than my jaw was my internal glass compass, which sharded into a million tiny little pieces.
My home voted Trump? My blue-collar state turned as red as the president’s jowls? There had to have been a glitch in the Matrix.
But now I every time I hear “Meanwhile, in Michigan…” I get queasy. I know what’s coming. Some dumbass is protesting not being able to carry his AK-47 into a nursery school. Or “protesters” are chanting “Lock her up” outside the state capital because the governor recommends masks.
Last week, Michigan closed its capitol in Lansing and canceled its legislative session rather than face the possibility of an armed protest and death threats against Democratic Governor Gretchen Whitmer.
The session, meant to advocate opening the state for business despite the coronavirus pandemic, followed one in which military-clad goons carrying rifles into the capitol confronted police and taunted lawmakers.
What the actual fuck? I used to go to the Detroit Science Center, now the Michigan Science Center. I remember the exhibits on space, motion, gravity. In the halcyon gauze of memory, I recall a place straight out of The Jetsons.
Apparently, Mitten dolts still do. I see a surprising number consider concepts like physics an exercise in ideology — one they take a frightening amount of pride in rejecting.
You see, it’s legal in Michigan to carry a firearm in public — including the grounds of the capitol — “as long as the person is carrying the firearm with lawful intent and the firearm is not concealed.” So how the hell do you determine lawful intent? Does the guy below look ‘lawful?’ You can’t bring 3.5 ounces of water on a plane, but you can bring your semis to assembly meetings?
Governor Whitmer is probably right: The protesters in Michigan are just political rally organizers hawking for Trump. But there’s no denying that the state is nearly about half red — tacitly endorsing an existentially dangerous brand of politics. One that has decided concepts like Flat Earth, Creationism and global warming are legitimate scientific controversies. They’re not. But giving the “theories” intellectual credence has muddied concepts once considered universal truths. like protective masks.
We once accepted as beneficial a filter mask in a pandemic. Now, masks (or lack of them) have become political honor badges, appropriately shaded blue: Masks have become the latest totem of virtue signalling, the hottest trend in national politics. Democrats wear masks. Republicans don’t.
Michigan, like so many other states, has entered into a Faustian political bargain with this thinking: endorsing the president of an organization (in this case government) who doesn’t believe in the organization (in this case the government). Who prefers a conspiracy theory to a pragmatic one. Whose one compass reading is unilateral.
Consider how profound the shift Trump brought to American politics. Our own administration does not trust its own intelligence branches. It does not trust its own medical authorities. It does not trust its own scientists. Are we expected to?
What an odd position for an American citizen. Say, for instance, you need a new car, so you head to the closest dealership.
During the test drive, the blunt salesman tells you how corrupt all dealerships are. That they take 20% of all car sales minimum, which consist of only $10,000 worth of equipment, maximum. That when a salesman tells you he’ll have to check with the manager about the price, most of them get coffee. Some even brag about going to the bathroom in a moneygasm jack off, just to have a sincerely relieved face and sincere smile when they tell you congratulations, “the manager somehow said yes!”
At the end of the drive, are you going to buy the car? Would you offer $10,000? Would you rethink the offer when the salesman says, “Lemme check with my manager?”
That’s where the administration has left us. The GOP has become so consumed with profits and polls it will consume any cult defector and honor any suicide bomber. Whistle blowers? They’re just disgruntled employees. Contradicting scientists and military leaders? Those poor Obama brainwashees. Global warming? Remember that cold night in February?
Meanwhile, Michael Flynn, who twice pleaded guilty for lying to the F.B.I. about his meetings with the Russian ambassador, was set up in an Obama-borne conspiracy on the president fully knows. Trump has ordered Bill Barr to dismantle that entire Russian unpleasantness.
And my state uses his rallies to shout his name in victory, to hoist banners adorned with swastikas and nooses. Because America.
I was ready to renounce the entire state as the dark crow’s nest of my early days on the wing. Then I read about this guy:
Meet Shalinder Singh. Before the pandemic, Shalinder Singh spent Sundays at his gurdwara, a Sikh place of worship, helping serve a community meal for about 300 people in suburban Detroit.
Now, he’s all about pizza.
Singh and his family have paid for and delivered hundreds of pies to Detroit hospitals, police stations and fire departments since the gurdwara suspended in-person services. Singh and his family wanted to carry on a tenet of their faith: helping others through langar, the communal meal shared by all who come.
That’s the Michigan I remember. So let’s clarify, now that I’m not so naive and embarrassed.
Detroit will always be my hometown. But I was born in Charleston, y’all.