On Pissing Contests and Distractions

and why history is a reliable friend

If I drove about 45 minutes towards the north from where I live (which in reality I wouldn't because I don't drive, but that's besides the point here), I would reach a waterway that is equally renowned for its dramatic cliffs and notorious for the hundreds of refugees who die yearly attempting to cross it.

And if I was telling you a story about it in English, unless I was unnecessarily delving into poetic metaphor I would likely refer to it as the English Channel, because that's how Anglophones refer to it by default.

And yet, if I was telling you a story about it in French, I would refer to it as "La Manche", because that's what the French call it. They don't refer to it as the “channel of the English”, which makes perfect sense given the history between the two nations. Instead, they refer to it as "the sleeve", after its shape.

But if I was telling you a story about it in Breton (which in reality I also wouldn't because just as I don't drive I don't speak much Breton, but again, making a theoretical point here), I would neither refer to it as the English Channel nor La Manche, but "Mor Breizh" or the Sea of Brittany.

Meanwhile, the Welsh call it "Môr Udd", or the Lord/Chief's Sea, while the Irish call it "Muir nIocht", or the Merciful Sea. Given its reputation as anything but, I can only assume this last one follows the same logic as how/why the Irish refer to the Fae as the "Good Neighbors". And the Dutch, typical in their practicality, simply call it "het Kanaal" or The Channel, forgoing any indulgence into either geopolitics or evocation.

I should also point out that none of these terms has been static, each having gone through a degree of evolutions over millennia. Nor is this breakdown that I just detailed at all unique to the body of water 45 minutes north from my home. Such variations on the name of any given place are actually very common if not always well-known. One of my favorite examples of this, which I've wrote about in more detail in the past, is the various exonyms for Germany and the histories and reasonings behind them. Disagreement on what any given place is called is likely as old as the history of claiming geological features in the first place.

Why does this all come to mind to me this morning, you ask? Because we are now officially in the third week of pearl-clutching around Trump's decision to rename the Gulf of Mexico as the Gulf of America. Now to be clear (which I feel like I shouldn't have to be, but I know how the internet works so here we are), I'm not in the least bit defending Trump here. But pompous asses are gonna pompous ass and given what an utterly pompous ass he is, he's gonna pompous ass it to the max. And so yes, enter Executive Order #14172. But personally, given how much what we call any given place has historically been an exercise of geopolitical muscle-flexing, my first thought upon hearing about the renaming was to reflect on the fact that in retrospect, it was rather remarkable that the US referred to it as the Gulf of Mexico for so long in the first place, given the history. My second thought was that as I said above, given who Trump is, it was quite logical and predictable as an exercise in metaphorically pissing to mark one's territory. And my third thought, which is why I'm still reflecting on this three weeks later, is that this would serve as the perfect unnecessary distraction, something that far too many folks would get up in arms about when in the larger context it's a pretty ordinary action as far as the history of geopolitical pissing contests go.

And *of course* Google is going to comply. History 101: corporations almost always comply in advance when fascism comes to town. Didn't we collectively learn that last October when everyone boycotted the Washington Post? Corporations are scum, remember? They're acting in their true nature and they don't answer to us. Again, not defending Google's actions any more than Trump's, but my point when it comes to both of them is that we have entered an era where literally every fucking day there will be something horrible that will potentially provoke your outrage. And it's probably a needed reminder in times like these that outrage isn't an unlimited resource, those who treat it as such learn the hard way what such an assumption can do to the body and mind. If you're going to aim outrage at Google, this should be way way down on the list of reasons why, I promise you that.

Consider that this is an era where more than ever, we have to pick our battles. Which is where history can be our friend. I can't stress enough that we will collectively be both more effective and more psychologically sound if we reserve our outrage for which truly harms us, for which is truly unprecedented. Because to have us freaking out about everything this administration does is their goal. It's a primary feature, not a bug. Trump's pissing contest regarding the body of water once known as the Cathayan Sea or the Gulf of Yucatán is many things: immature, insulting, hubristic, obnoxious, but also quite historically fitting. And arguably more than anything else it's just embarrassing, but embarrassed as a default state is something that we're going to have to get used to and fast. But with respect, for those of you still unironically going on about it after three weeks, it's also evident that it's fulfilling its intended role as a distraction meant to drain you.

So really, fuck it. It's just a map, and maps have been geopolitically contentious for as long as they've existed. Don't like it? Draw a new one. Or use an old one, old maps are awesome. I just spent a moment consulting with my nemesis Google and found one that made me smile: it's from the 1500s and the body of water at issue was then referred to as the Gulf of St. Michael.

And remember that your outrage is a powerful weapon, but one that will turn against you if you let it run wild. Pick your battles wisely, my friends. And personally, I recommend against this one.