The Fly

Two things about the 2020 vice-presidential debate will go down in history – the significance of Kamala Harris as the first woman-of-color contender, and a fly landing on Mike Pence’s head and staying there for two full minutes.

At first, you assume it’ll just fly away and it’ll be as unremarkable a moment as when a fly landed on Hilary‘s face in 2016 debates. But then it just stayed there, huge and prominent against Pence’s snow white hair, through his grandstanding on law and order and his steamrolling through the moderator’s six attempts to keep him within his own two-minutes. Combined with him looking generally unwell, including some kind of pink eye situation, it was the happiest I’ve ever been watching reality TV. In that moment life was imitating art, and I saw God.

People on the internet went nuts. Pretty fly on a white guy. One fly over the cuckoo’s nest. Pence the shithead. Lord of the lies. Just so many good ones. The Biden Campaign, doing everything right, immediately put flyswatters on their merch site and they sold out by morning. Then the jokes died, along with the last gasps of Pence’s soul once he realized what had been the most memorable part of his performance.

Of course what made this moment a lasting thing of beauty is the fact that Pence is the most prominent evangelical Christian in modern U.S. history. According to the reality that he is living in, the fly meant more to him than it did to us. We know the fly probably just got stuck in his hairspray, or is residing on a stationary object, but he and his base of fundamentalists have to reckon with the fact that the fly is considered the bearer of death in their religion, symbolizing rot, decay, and corruption to nobles. Satan himself, Bezelbub, is named “Lord of the Flies.” So as the head of the alleged Coronavirus Task Force (*gestures to the situation*) the symbolism is undeniable. Why the fly landed there, then, for that long, at such a crucial moment of his political career while his base ostensibly is praying for him, this cannot and will not be so easily dismissed by the people it matters to most.

“But if you will not let My people go, I will send swarms of flies upon you and your officials and your people and your houses. The houses of the Egyptians and even the ground where they stand will be full of flies. ” – Exodus 8:21

There no better symbol for the man that Mike Pence is, and no more meaningful time for it to present itself. He knows it, his base knows it. You don’t even have to be religious to see that Pence’s role these last four years has been very vulture-like, hovering somewhere behind or beside the cancer that is Trump, waiting…and now ushering.

Pence the Prince of Pestilence. Even the name fits.

Hegel, Traffic Signs, and Swiss Cheese: A Synthesis

File under whimsical expressions of philosophical thought.

Even though I was born in Switzerland and lived there until my teens, I have never driven much in Switzerland and after some twenty-seven years away, the rules of the road are somewhat unheimlich, both familiar and unfamiliar at once.

Case in point: Whilst driving on Swiss roads, you often see this sign:

‘You are required to carry a slice of cheese in your pocket at all times’

After about a week of encountering these signs on the road, a notion reluctantly forms in your mind that these signs are somehow important, even if you don’t quite know how. Presumably, official street signs exists to denote meaning of some sort related to the rules of the road and, if you are driving down roads that bear these signs, it might be necessary to know what they mean at some point.

Thesis: Minds like to find meaning where meaning seems to loom large, or so says the later Wittgenstein. A first stab at the nebulous purpose of these street signs yields the thesis that you are required to carry a slice of cheese in your pocket at all times. This is less absurd than it seems at first, because the signs at face value do indeed seem to contain a slice of cheese in the center and we are in Switzerland, a place where cows and dairy are so ubiquitous and ingrained in the national consciousness that you cannot imagine life without them. If you are diagnosed with lactose intolerance in Switzerland, for example, the official guidance you receive is to substitute the milk in your coffee with cream diluted in water, since cream contains less lactose. The thought of avoiding dairy altogether is foreign. In short, it’s not unthinkable that some token homage to cows and their tinkling cow bells is required at times.

Antithesis: Still, our original thesis seems lacking. For starters, no one in our car ever seems to carry a slice of cheese and we have yet to encounter any consequences as a result. By itself, this observation is not antithetical to our original idea, since there are other road signs that are of no consequence to us. For example, in the Bernese Highlands, we often encounter road signs indicating when mass takes place in the local churches, but we do not attend any of them, to no apparent ill effect. The antithesis is revealed when a local versed in the rules of the road enters the scene to explain: These signs indicate that you are on a Hauptstrasse or main road and that you have the right of way. The signs often go together with a shark tooth pattern painted onto the road that delineates the main road from a side road (Nebenstrasse). This new explanation immediately makes sense and actually solves a problem: Our interpretation of the right of way had been oscillating uneasily between hesitation and insistence. Knowing when you have the right of way is decidedly helpful.

Synthesis: As explanations go, there is a problem, though: The antithesis is exceedingly boring. Knowing that the sign means you have the right of way is important, but pragmatically anticlimactic. It just won’t do. Similarly, the sign is hardly intuitive outside the hurly-burly of its semiotic context, as it fails to indicate its meaning to foreigners. Its warm, yellow center diamond, contrasted against the simple clean shape of the black surround seems to promise … more.

So how can we combine our now defunct cheese slice thesis and the anticlimactic antithesis to form something new? Simple, when I am on a main road, I am the big cheese. Je suis le fromage grand, the right of way is mine.

We are satisfied. In the three senses of aufgehoben at play in Hegel’s dialectic, our original thesis was negated, as you are not required to keep a slice of cheese in your pocket whilst driving on certain roads in Switzerland; the cheese slice thesis was also preserved in the apparent contradiction that is part of the dialectic, since a part of the idea continues to live on in the notion of being the big cheese and having the right of way; and finally, our understanding was sublated, since we arrived at a new understanding of Swiss road signs that is not contained in either the thesis or the antithesis alone.