Dwain Northey (Gen X)

There is something profoundly strange about human beings and our relationship with isolation.

Throughout history, people have voluntarily removed themselves from society in the pursuit of peace. Monks retreat into monasteries. Buddhist practitioners may take vows of silence. Hermits disappear into mountains, deserts, forests, or caves because they believe the noise of the world is an obstacle to understanding themselves. For some people, solitude isn’t punishment at all. It is the destination.

And then we have another form of isolation: solitary confinement.

Human-rights organizations and prison-reform advocates have long argued that prolonged solitary confinement can constitute cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment. That can initially seem almost absurdly counterintuitive to someone who genuinely enjoys being alone.

If I can spend an entire Saturday perfectly happy without speaking to another human being, why would putting somebody alone in a room be considered psychologically harmful?

Because, as it turns out, being alone and being isolated are two very different psychological experiences.

The monk chose the mountain.

The prisoner was sent to the cell.

That distinction may be enormous.

When you choose solitude, being alone can feel like freedom. When solitude is imposed upon you, it can feel like abandonment, punishment and helplessness. One says, I am choosing to be here. The other says, Someone has decided that I deserve to be here.

And perhaps that loss of agency is one of the most important pieces of the puzzle.

Imagine that I decide tomorrow that I want to spend three days alone in my house. I have books. I have television. I have music. I have a refrigerator full of food. I can open the door and walk outside whenever I want. I can call somebody. I can take a shower. I can sit in a chair and stare at the ceiling for six hours if that’s what I feel like doing.

That’s solitude.

Now take away my ability to leave.

Take away meaningful human interaction.

Take away normal sensory stimulation.

Give me a small room with almost nothing to do, tell me that I will remain there for an indefinite period and make somebody else the person who decides when I am allowed to return to society.

That’s not simply being alone.

That’s deprivation of autonomy.

And human beings apparently need autonomy almost as much as they need companionship.

This is where the apparent contradiction begins to make sense.

A monk taking a vow of silence isn’t necessarily experiencing the absence of human contact as deprivation. The silence itself is the practice. The monk has chosen it, understands its purpose and presumably has a framework for interpreting the experience.

The prisoner in solitary confinement doesn’t have that luxury.

The silence isn’t enlightenment.

It’s punishment.

And the difference between those two experiences may be enormous.

There is another psychological component that fascinates me: stimulation.

Our brains aren’t designed to sit inside an empty sensory environment indefinitely. We need things to process. Conversation provides stimulation. Reading provides stimulation. Movement provides stimulation. Nature provides stimulation. Music provides stimulation. Even the irritating guy in the next cubicle provides stimulation.

Take enough of that away and the brain doesn’t necessarily just become peaceful.

Sometimes it starts creating its own stimulation.

That’s where reports of hallucinations, distorted perceptions, anxiety, paranoia, obsessive thinking and other psychological symptoms associated with prolonged isolation become particularly disturbing.

And suddenly the old idea that “if you enjoy being alone, solitary confinement shouldn’t bother you” falls apart.

Because enjoying solitude generally means having the ability to end the solitude.

That’s the part I think is easy to overlook.

I can enjoy being alone because somewhere in the back of my mind is the knowledge that I don’t have to be alone.

I can call someone.

I can walk outside.

I can go get coffee.

I can turn on the television.

I can get in my car.

I can walk into a crowded room and immediately regret it.

That last option matters too.

Freedom includes the freedom to choose solitude and the freedom to choose company.

Solitary confinement removes the second choice.

And perhaps that’s why it can be psychologically devastating even to people who ordinarily prefer their own company.

There’s a profound difference between saying, I don’t need anybody right now, and being told, Nobody is available to you.

The first is independence.

The second is deprivation.

Maybe that’s the real paradox of isolation.

We don’t necessarily need constant human contact. Some of us would go completely insane if that were the requirement. There are people who genuinely need substantial amounts of solitude to recharge, think, create or simply escape the exhausting theater of everyday human interaction.

But that doesn’t mean human connection is optional.

Perhaps what the human brain really needs isn’t a certain number of people around it at all times.

Perhaps it needs choice.

The choice to be alone.

The choice not to be alone.

The knowledge that another human being is available if you need one.

And maybe that’s why someone can spend an entire day happily alone while another person can psychologically unravel in a cell.

The difference isn’t necessarily how much they like people.

It’s whether the solitude belongs to them.

That’s a surprisingly profound distinction.

Because the moment solitude becomes something you cannot escape, it stops being solitude in the psychological sense.

It becomes confinement.

And perhaps that’s why the phrase “cruel and unusual punishment” begins to make considerably more sense.

The cruelty isn’t simply that you’re alone.

It’s that someone else controls your aloneness.

Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Well, folks, I believe we have finally arrived.

The Golden Age has officially begun, just as promised by our geriatric Commander in Chief and his increasingly elaborate traveling entourage of sycophants, billionaires, foreign dignitaries, and people apparently carrying very expensive gift bags.

Forget economic indicators. Forget wages. Forget whether the average American can afford groceries, rent, healthcare, or the increasingly ambitious concept of owning a home.

We have jets.

Apparently, nothing says America First quite like other countries handing the American president aircraft worth untold fortunes. And because apparently airplanes weren’t sufficiently ostentatious, we can add diamond-encrusted jewelry and other spectacular gifts to the growing collection of things being bestowed upon the man who promised to restore American greatness.

And honestly, what could possibly be more American than a president being showered with luxury while millions of Americans are being told to tighten their belts?

That is, after all, the fundamental philosophy of the modern Republican economic miracle: the rich get richer, the poor get poorer, and everyone is encouraged to applaud the falling champagne bottle.

Welcome back to Reagan-era trickle-down economics, folks.

Except somebody forgot to mention that when you stand underneath the top of the economic pyramid waiting for the wealth to trickle down, you may want to bring an umbrella.

Or perhaps a hazmat suit.

Because the wealth isn’t exactly trickling.

It appears to be pooling at the top.

Meanwhile, the White House itself looks like it’s been through a particularly aggressive episode of Extreme Makeover: Presidential Edition. Everything is rumbling, construction is everywhere, and somewhere in the middle of all this imperial remodeling sits a reflecting pool that looks less like a symbol of American grandeur and more like the swimming pool behind a Motel 6 that has recently lost a fight with chlorine.

But don’t worry.

It’s the Golden Age.

Look at the gold!

Never mind that the infrastructure is crumbling.

Never mind that healthcare costs are climbing.

Never mind that ordinary people are watching their purchasing power evaporate while the wealthiest Americans continue accumulating fortunes large enough to require their own gravitational fields.

Never mind all that.

There is gold.

And apparently that’s the metric now.

Then we have the Oval Office itself.

There is so much gilded décor, gold trim, glitter, ornamentation and unapologetic opulence packed into that room that I genuinely suspect Marie Antoinette would walk through the doors, look around, and say, “Dude, this is a little much.”

And this is the woman historically associated with the whole “Let them eat cake” thing.

Imagine being so extravagantly ostentatious that Marie Antoinette would be embarrassed for you.

That’s not merely excessive.

That’s achieving a level of conspicuous consumption that would make the French aristocracy whisper, “Perhaps we should tone it down.”

The Oval Office increasingly looks less like the workplace of the President of the United States and more like the lobby of a casino owned by a man who just discovered gold leaf.

And somewhere in the middle of all this gilded magnificence, we’re supposed to believe this represents the greatness of America.

No.

It represents the greatness of wealth concentrated in the hands of people who have somehow convinced everyone else that their wealth is evidence of everybody else’s success.

It’s economic astrology.

“Your billionaire is entering a favorable tax position this quarter, so good news! You may experience a slight reduction in your standard of living.”

And naturally, we’re told this is capitalism at its finest.

The same people who spent years screaming about socialism somehow have no problem with government resources, political favors, tax advantages, tariffs, bailouts, and spectacular gifts flowing upward.

Because apparently socialism is when you get something.

Capitalism is when they get everything.

And if you’re particularly lucky, perhaps a tiny golden droplet will eventually trickle down your leg.

Which brings us to the most appropriate description of this entire magnificent economic renaissance:

If this is a Golden Age, then apparently we’re talking about golden showers.

The wealthy are getting showered with gold.

The powerful are getting showered with gifts.

The president is getting showered with luxury.

And the rest of us are standing underneath wondering why the trickle-down economics we’ve been promised for forty years still hasn’t reached the fucking ground.

But hey, at least the reflecting pool is there.

Well…

Technically it’s there.

It just looks like Motel 6 drained the pool, forgot to refill it, and then Washington decided to make it a metaphor.

So congratulations, America.

The Golden Age has arrived.

The rich are golden.

The gifts are golden.

The jets are golden.

The jewels are golden.

The Oval Office is so fucking gilded that Marie Antoinette herself might walk in and mutter, “Perhaps the peasants have a point.”

And if you’re an ordinary American wondering why none of that gold seems to be improving your life, don’t be so negative.

That’s just because you’re standing on the wrong end of the trickle.

Welcome to the Golden Age.

Bring a towel.

And maybe some cake.

Dwain Northey (Gen X)

The Fox News Spin: The Great Air Force One Disappearing Act

And so, ladies and gentlemen, we arrive at yet another episode of “The Fox News Spin.”

Because apparently the latest chapter in the ongoing saga of Donald Trump has all the ingredients of a Hollywood political thriller: a credible threat, Air Force One, a secret exit, a smaller military aircraft, a decoy presidential plane, and a president being quietly spirited away like a mob boss leaving through the kitchen.

Here’s the part that makes this story absolutely fucking fascinating.

Donald Trump did board the regular Air Force One. He entered the aircraft like everybody expected him to. The plane was then treated as though the president was aboard.

Except he wasn’t.

At some point, Trump exited Air Force One and was secretly transferred to a smaller military aircraft, while the regular Air Force One continued on with the staff and press corps.

And apparently, the people on Air Force One didn’t know he wasn’t there.

Think about that for a minute.

The president’s own staff and members of the press corps were flying around on the presidential aircraft believing the president was aboard, while the actual president was somewhere else entirely.

That’s not exactly “Hello, everyone, the president is safely aboard.”

That’s a decoy operation.

And then comes the really fucking cinematic part.

When they reached London, Trump apparently re-entered the regular Air Force One so that he could disembark with everyone else.

So the people aboard Air Force One could spend the entire trip believing Donald Trump was somewhere on that aircraft, only to have him magically reappear when they landed.

Now you see him.

Now you don’t.

Now you see him again.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the world’s most expensive game of presidential hide-and-seek.

And this is where I would absolutely love to be sitting inside the Fox News editorial meeting.

Because how exactly do you spin this?

I’m guessing it starts something like this:

“President Trump demonstrates once again his extraordinary commitment to national security by employing sophisticated military deception against credible threats to his life.”

Notice how the word “fled” never appears.

He didn’t flee.

He strategically relocated.

He wasn’t secretly whisked away.

He was tactically repositioned.

He didn’t abandon Air Force One.

Air Force One was merely being utilized as a presidential security decoy.

And the fact that his own staff and members of the press didn’t know he wasn’t aboard?

That’s probably going to become evidence of how incredibly brilliant the operation was.

Because apparently the best security operation is one where the people you’re supposedly protecting don’t know what’s happening.

Again, let’s be perfectly clear:

If there was a credible threat against the president, protecting him is exactly what the Secret Service and military are supposed to do.

Using deception to prevent an attacker from knowing the president’s actual location is perfectly understandable.

That’s not the scandal.

The fascinating part is the sheer theatricality of it.

Donald Trump boards Air Force One.

Donald Trump gets off Air Force One.

Donald Trump gets into another aircraft.

Air Force One continues flying as the apparent presidential aircraft.

Everybody aboard apparently believes the president is there.

Trump eventually rejoins Air Force One in London.

Then he gets off the plane with everybody else.

Nobody knows the president wasn’t there.

That’s not a presidential motorcade.

That’s a fucking magic trick.

And naturally, the Trump propaganda machine will have to make sure nobody uses words like “hiding,” “escape,” “decoy,” “fleeing,” or—God forbid—“fear.”

Because Donald Trump apparently cannot experience fear.

He can only experience strategic tactical repositioning.

He can never retreat.

He can only redeploy.

He can never hide.

He can only operate covertly.

He can never be scared.

He can only be demonstrating extraordinary courage while secretly leaving the aircraft everyone thinks he’s on.

And then, of course, Trump himself will probably declare the entire story Fake News!

He’ll tell us that the reports are lies.

He’ll tell us nobody has ever been braver.

He’ll tell us he wasn’t hiding from anybody.

He’ll probably remind us that presidents do this all the time.

And maybe that’s the final Fox News spin:

“This is what presidents do.”

Really?

Because I’m pretty sure most presidents don’t board Air Force One, secretly get off, disappear onto another aircraft, allow their own staff and press corps to unknowingly fly around on a decoy plane, and then sneak back aboard in London just in time to walk down the stairs with everybody else.

That’s not exactly the presidential equivalent of waving to the passengers as you leave the plane.

That’s The Great Donald Trump Air Force One Disappearing Act.

And somewhere inside Fox News headquarters, I can already hear the chyron:

TRUMP: BRAVELY VANISHES FROM PLANE TO PROTECT AMERICA

And beneath it, probably:

EXPERTS SAY THIS IS WHAT REAL LEADERSHIP LOOKS LIKE.

Because in the Fox News universe, apparently Donald Trump can’t simply be a president who was protected from a credible threat.

No.

He has to be the bravest human being in recorded antiquity while simultaneously being invisible to the people sitting on his own airplane.

It’s an impressive trick.

David Copperfield would be taking notes.