Please stop telling me not to amplify Donald Trump. You know who you are. Every time I tweet about the latest inane or dangerous remark issued by the former guy, a slew of people on Twitter chastise me. Cut it out. You are wrong.

The argument of the anti-Trump censors is that Trump has been booted off Twitter and Facebook for good reason: pushing lies that are designed to subvert American democracy. And the detractors are right about that. As private companies, these social media giants reserve the right not to transmit disinformation. Hey, that’s capitalism—though we should be concerned about Big Tech abusing its power to shape or control political debate. But my critics point out that if I tweet about a statement Trump released through his website or via an email blast and include that remark in a tweet, then I am essentially helping Trump elude the ban imposed on him.

I see the logic in that. But it’s not my job to reinforce the deplatforming of Trump. My job—at least part of it—is to report on threats to the United States. And despite the election results of last November, Trump remains a profound threat to the nation. He is still the titular head (or cult leader) of the Republican Party, and as such he continues to push the Big Lie to overturn an election and whitewash the violent seditious attack on the Capitol and the US Constitution that he incited. A recent poll found that nearly half of all Republicans believe Trump should exert “a lot” of influence over the future of the GOP. A third said he should maintain “a little influence.” Only 18 percent of the Rs want him to leave the party alone.

This week’s infrastructure vote in the Senate showed the limit of Trump’s hold on the Republican Party. Trump had urged his party to oppose the measure and called the GOPers in favor of the measure RINOs. Yet 19 Republican senators backed the $1 trillion package. Nevertheless, Trump remains a leading—if not the lead—contender for the 2024 GOP presidential nomination.

At the Conservative Political Action Conference held in February, 55 percent of the attendees in an unscientific straw poll chose Trump as their preferred pick for the 2024 Republican presidential nominee. (Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis snagged 21 percent, and South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem won 4 percent.) And it may be an absurd notion, but some Trump-uber-alles conservatives have even suggested that if the Republicans win control of the House in 2022—a distinct possibility, thanks to GOP gerrymandering—they ought to elect Trump speaker of the House. (A speaker does not have to be an elected House member. Thanks a lot, framers.) This narcissistic, bigoted, corrupt autocrat—who leaned on federal and state officials to nullify the last election—could end up yet again with power. Consequently, he is a clear-and-present danger. Just look at the recent dire UN report on climate change—we are out of time!—and ponder the consequences of another four-year round of Trump.

So with Trump still in the game—Mar-a-Lago is not Elba—he continues to deserve attention and scrutiny. In recent days, Trump has released a host of troubling statements. He praised Ashli Babbitt, the January 6 rioter who was shot and killed during the insurrectionist raid on the Capitol, and said she and the people she “represented...truly loved America.” He assailed the Senate Democrats’ budget plan, which included provisions to counter climate change and to expand education programs and social welfare protections, as the “Communist Plan to Destroy America.” And he keeps pushing those baseless claims that the 2020 election was rigged. All of this—his ceaseless subversion of American democracy, his tacit support of violence, his reactionary policies that imperil the country and the world—warrant notice. Placing hands over our eyes and ears—or over his mouth—will not make Trump disappear. Ignoring an ongoing risk will not remove it. Constant vigilance is required.

Think we should ignore Trump and his statements? Email me at thisland@motherjones.com.

Dumbass Comment of the Week

Perhaps this feature should be rebranded: “What Did Rep. Madison Cawthorn (R-N.C.) Say or Tweet This Week?” A message he sent to his tweeps a few days ago was a beaut: “1984 is a great fiction novel to read but it seems like it is becoming the reality we are currently living under more and more each day.”

Folks on Twitter had fun with his reference to a “fiction novel.” Is there any other kind? But more to the point, what “reality” was Cawthorn referring to? The Senate passing that $1 trillion infrastructure bill that will create hundreds of thousands of decent-paying jobs? Or the nearly 200 million Americans who have received at least one dose of a COVID-19 vaccine? The addition of 943,000 jobs to the economy last month? What present-day Orwellian nightmare so concerns Cawthorn? Is he referring to mask wearing? Perhaps. “Don’t be fooled—every COVID mandate is about POWER, not public safety,” he also tweeted this week. That statement could cause disease and deaths, if his 293,000 Twitter followers accept his notion that they should never abide public health rules related to the pandemic.

Of course, with his 1984 tweet, Cawthorn was just acting as an ignorant troll striving for intellectual gravitas by citing a “fiction novel.” But a core theme of George Orwell’s 1984 was the manipulation—and denial—of truth in service of authoritarianism. And who has of late been the biggest source of disinformation in the US political system, pushing the Big Lie and whitewashing the January 6 insurrection? But let’s give Orwell the last word here. In an essay titled “Why I Write” that was published in 1946, he explained, “Every line of serious work that I have written since 1936 has been written, directly or indirectly, against totalitarianism and for democratic socialism.”

Got a suggestion for Dumbass Comment of the Week from someone other than Rep. Madison Cawthorn? Email me at thisland@motherjones.com.

Rock ’n’ Roll Flashback: Police Abuse at a Police Concert

I was sitting on a bench outside the men’s locker room for the gym at Rhode Island College. I could hear angry shouting coming from within. The members of the Police were yelling at one another. This was the evening of September 30, 1979, and the three-man punkish new wave band was on its first American tour. The group’s initial album, Outlandos d’Amour—now considered one of the killer debut records in rock history—had come out the previous year, and the single “Roxanne,” capturing the ethereal and spacious sound of the band, had been a hit. But scoring a hit record had not yet led to a life of glamour and celebrity. The band was on a grueling North American tour, driving themselves and their equipment from gig to gig in a Ford Econoline van. The next month they would release their second album featuring the future hits “Message in a Bottle” and “Walking on the Moon” and be more definitively on the way to rock stardom and all the perks that come with that. But for the time being, they were stuck on a low-rent tour, appearing at less-than-prestigious venues and spending down-time in grimy locker rooms.

And possibly it was getting to them. As I waited on that bench to interview the Police for a local alternative weekly, Sting, the bass player and vocalist, and guitarist Andy Summers were screaming at drummer Stewart Copeland. “You couldn’t keep the beat at sound check,” someone yelled. They accused him of committing mis-hits and miscues at the previous concert. Copeland shot back (loudly) that the other two didn’t know what they were talking about and had forgotten the arrangements. He pounced on Summers for allegedly muffing a lead. Then it seemed that Copeland and Summers ganged up on Sting, claiming he had been singing on the stage without listening to their playing. It was all rather vituperative. Tempers were exploding. There was some back-and-forth about a lousy sound system. I recall that at one point it sounded as if Sting and Summers delivered an ultimatum to Copeland: If you can’t play it right, you’re out.

In my memory, this scream-fest went on for about 15 nerve-wracking minutes, as I sat there anxiously by myself. Then the road manager appeared and said, “They’re ready for you.” I told him, “I can wait a little while longer if that would help.” “Not at all,” he said. He opened the door to the locker room, and there sat three scowling British rockers.

The interview was not a grand success. Sting, Summers, and Copeland answered most of my questions with terse responses. Occasionally, just a “yes” or a “no.” But I eked out enough material about their origins and their unique sound for a write-up. At the end, I needed to take a photograph and pulled out my 35mm camera. Sting moved fast and snatched it from my hands. He started snapping photos of me. In those days, cameras didn’t have nearly unlimited capacity. There was a roll of film, and that was the number of shots you could take before going through the cumbersome act of reloading. I feared a trigger-happy Sting would use up the entire roll in the camera. I kindly asked for the camera back. He kept snapping. “Please,” I begged. After taunting me a bit—pretending he would toss the camera to a bandmate—Sting handed it over, and the three men posed. I don’t remember any smiles.

I left the locker room thinking that these guys might not make it much further as a band. It seemed they could even blow apart that night. Yet the performance they soon delivered on stage in a college gym was magnificent. They played “Message in a Bottle” and “Walking on the Moon,” and these songs were a clear sign they had expanded their musical reach into a pop sound infused by world music that could go quite far. After the show, I saw all three helping to pack up their equipment so it could be loaded into the van. Well, maybe, I thought, these guys will make it to the next level.

I haven’t been able to find a copy of the article I wrote afterward. I don’t know if I ended up referring to the contretemps in the locker room. But somewhere I just might have a box that contains film negatives of Sting’s photos of me.

Ever have a notable encounter with a soon-to-be-famous musician, artist, or celebrity? Email me at thisland@motherjones.com.

Read Previous Issues of This Land

August 10, 2021: Look who’s organizing a pro-January 6 rally at the Capitol; an inspiring tale from the Myanmar jungle; the best album of the year so far; and more.

August 7, 2021: Are non-vaxxers and anti-maskers just too damn selfish?; Dumbass Comment of the Week; Mailbag (can you still watch your favorite old movies if they now make you cringe?); MoxieCam™; and more.

August 3, 2021: When “worse than Watergate” is really worse than Watergate; Apple TV+’s “comedy” Physical is no comedy, but it’s worth watching; This Land in Photos (West Virginia); and more.

July 31, 2021: Can you still watch your favorite movies?; Dumbass Comment of the Week; Mailbag (more on Lennon versus McCartney); MoxieCam™; and more.

July 29, 2021: Is a country music star encouraging more January 6-like violence?; a civil rights hero more people should know; and more.

July 27, 2021: Are Republicans going to sabotage police reform that doesn’t even go far enough?; how to put a senseless murder to good use; how sober is Liz Phair?; and more.

July 24, 2021: Has Paul McCartney finally won me over?; Dumbass Comment of the Week; Mailbag; MoxieCam™; and more.

July 22, 2021: My bizarre encounter with Rep. Jim Jordan—and why Speaker Pelosi was right to bounce him from the 1/6 committee; celebrating and grieving with musician Steve Earle; and more.

July 20, 2021: The time a Republican president did the right thing to stop an epidemic; Trump’s big narcissism fail; Nelson Algren and Norman Podhoretz; a new psychedelic Beatles-esque tune; and more.

July 17, 2021: Why the Guardian’s Trump-Russia bombshell—dud or not—doesn’t fully matter; Dumbass Comment of the Week; why Bosch works in spite of Bosch; MoxieCam™; and more.

July 15, 2021: Does President Joe Biden really stand with the Cuban people?; the time I really pissed off the Cuban regime; J. Edgar Hoover vs. MLK; one of the best movie reviews of all time; and more.

July 13, 2021: A coming referendum on Donald Trump; a suggestion for Hunter Biden; a new book on how the super-rich screw us all; and more.

July 10, 2021: Why the Republicans are right to be terrified of the new House committee investigating the 1/6 attack; Dumbass Comment of the Week; Joni Mitchell’s Blue 50; and more.

July 7, 2021: How The Summer of Soul counters the GOP’s season of hate; a debate on the recent UFO report; Garry Trudeau, American Dostoyevsky; MoxieCam™; and more.

July 3, 2021: Donald Rumsfeld, Christopher Hitchens, the Iraq War, and me; the perils of taking a home DNA test; Dumbass Comment of the Week; a Springsteen story; and more.

July 1, 2021: Ivanka Trump, Donald Trump Jr., and perjury; Adam Serwer’s new book; Cézanne’s crime scene; and more.

June 29, 2021: How the new UFO report is bad news for UFO believers; my own UFO tale; HBO Max’s Hacks; an anti-racist anthem; and more.

June 26, 2021: Is Josh Hawley dumb or evil? (The answer is not both); Dumbassery that encourages mass “executions” in the United States; renowned guitarist and songwriter Richard Thompson’s new tour and new book (and his claim regarding the best strings arrangement ever on a popular song); MoxieCam™ (before and after photos!); and more.

June 24, 2021: How an alleged 1/6 conspirator who called for executing Trump’s foes hooked up with a prominent Republican Party official; new Los Lobos; and more.

June 22, 2021: Why the GOP is pushing “political apartheid”; Ted Cruz wins Dumbass Comment of the Week; recommendations for an Apple TV+ series and a book on the curious origins of the universe; the first Clash tour of the United States (and being trapped in a van driven by a punk on acid); MoxieCam™; and more.

Got suggestions, comments, complaints, tips related to any of the above, or anything else? Email me at thisland@motherjones.com.