I mean we knew that already, but as usual the Trump administration is about as subtle as a firing squad:
President Trump on Thursday announced several measures aimed at promoting what he called “patriotic education” while blasting progressive efforts at re-examining American history through a race-critical lens as “toxic propaganda.”
At the White House Conference on American History, Trump took aim at the 1619 Project, a series of essays in the New York Times re-examining America’s legacy of slavery which has become a common foil for right-wing politicians, calling it “ideological poison” that will “dissolve the civic bonds” of America.
Trump also called out what he said is “left-wing indoctrination” in schools and curriculum, which he claimed “views every issue through the lens of race” in an effort to impose “tyranny” and “a new segregation.”
Trump instead proposed “patriotic education,” applauding a grant awarded by the National Endowment for the Humanities to develop, in his words, a” pro-American curriculum that celebrates the truth about our nation’s great history.”
Trump also announced that he will sign an executive order establishing a commission to “promote patriotic education,” which will be called the “1776 Commission,” in contrast with the 1619 Project.
I have another year in mind:
Winston drew in his breath. He opened his mouth to
speak and then did not speak. He could not take his eyes
away from the dial.
‘The truth, please, Winston. YOUR truth. Tell me what
you think you remember.’
‘I remember that until only a week before I was arrested,
we were not at war with Eastasia at all. We were in alliance
with them. The war was against Eurasia. That had lasted for
four years. Before that——’
O’Brien stopped him with a movement of the hand.
‘Another example,’ he said. ‘Some years ago you had a
very serious delusion indeed. You believed that three men,
three one-time Party members named Jones, Aaronson,
and Rutherford—men who were executed for treachery
and sabotage after making the fullest possible confession—
were not guilty of the crimes they were charged with. You
believed that you had seen unmistakable documentary evidence proving that their confessions were false. There was
a certain photograph about which you had a hallucination.
You believed that you had actually held it in your hands. It
was a photograph something like this.’
An oblong slip of newspaper had appeared between
O’Brien’s fingers. For perhaps five seconds it was within the
angle of Winston’s vision. It was a photograph, and there
was no question of its identity. It was THE photograph. It
was another copy of the photograph of Jones, Aaronson, and Rutherford at the party function in New York, which he had chanced upon eleven years ago and promptly destroyed. For only an instant it was before his eyes, then itwas out of sight again. But he had seen it, unquestionably he
had seen it! He made a desperate, agonizing effort to wrench
the top half of his body free. It was impossible to move so
much as a centimetre in any direction. For the moment he
had even forgotten the dial. All he wanted was to hold the
photograph in his fingers again, or at least to see it.
‘It exists!’ he cried.
‘No,’ said O’Brien.
He stepped across the room. There was a memory hole
in the opposite wall. O’Brien lifted the grating. Unseen, the
frail slip of paper was whirling away on the current of warm
air; it was vanishing in a flash of flame. O’Brien turned away
from the wall.
‘Ashes,’ he said. ‘Not even identifiable ashes. Dust. It does
not exist. It never existed.’
‘But it did exist! It does exist! It exists in memory. I remember it. You remember it.’
‘I do not remember it,’ said O’Brien.