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The Scene I Hate

2009-12-19T10:13:00.001-06:00

I saw Up in the Air last night, and by and large I really liked it. It's a movie about grownups, made for grownups. It’s smart and funny, and it reminds you of what a good actor George Clooney can be when he's not trying so hard.

But late in the movie comes The Scene I Hate. If you haven't seen the movie, you should stop now, because ahead thar be spoilers. If you have seen the movie, or don't plan to, or don't mind being spoiled, read on.

The Scene is a movie trope, like the slow clap, or the stalker – I mean romantic lead – showing up in time to stop the wedding. Here, we have a hero who has a Philosophy of Life, which is part of his character, and which he has related to other characters throughout the movie. Late in the plot, he has the opportunity to relate his Philosophy to his biggest and bestest audience yet -- in this case, at a star-studded seminar in Las Vegas. Throughout the course of the film, though, things have happened that make him unsure of him Philosophy of Life. He gets to the podium and sees packed house of expectant faces. He begins to speak... and then ... he has an Epiphany. He can't go on. He leaves the stage to gasps, and perhaps consternation from his hosts. He rushes to his car/plane/horse, newly enlightened, and speeds to the side of his One True Love, or The Child Who is Waiting, or perhaps His Destiny. Under the worst of circumstances, the music swells.

Here's the thing. I'm all for epiphanies, and recognize their value in dramatic structure. In fact, the word has its origin in the revelations of Greek drama. But this scene is inherently false. You never have your epiphany on stage in front of hundreds of people. Unless that epiphany is, "Holy crap, I hate being on stage in front of hundreds of people." In this movie, in particular, there is a scene right before the epiphany, where the character is considering the seminar to come. It is a perfect moment for him to have his reversal, and one that can still have dramatic value without being ridiculous. Worse, up to now, the movie hasn't been overly dramatic. There have been dramatic moments, but they have been natural progressions of the story. We don't need, or want, the Big Moment, especially when it is so obviously tacked-on.

Here's the other thing. One of the reasons we like the character, be it Clooney in this movie or a similar character in another movie, is that was can count on them to get through the speech at the seminar. Or at least to cancel in a timely fashion. We like them because they don't flake out and pursue their Destiny or One True Love without turning off the gas and locking the front door. I'm surrounded with people and their petty epiphanies, and I much prefer those who finish their work on deadline and pay on schedule.

There is a redeeming grace to this scene, as my viewing companion pointed out, and that is that we don't get the Big Speech. The one that begins, "I can't lie to you. I used to believe blah blah blah, but now my eyes are open." The one that ends with stunned silence. Followed by the inevitable Slow Clap.

There's a lot to like about Up in the Air, and fortunately the Epiphany doesn't kill it. But it does inject an unnecessary false note in a movie that, until then, has seemed pretty truthful. And if you're me, it makes you wince, because it's The Scene I Hate.

Too Bad

2005-11-24T09:52:00.000-06:00

As I do every year at this time, I'd like to offer my traditional Thanksgiving poem. I am not the author of this ditty, it pains me to say. It was written by a small child who none of you know.

The Pilgrims

When the Pilgrims came to America
They were full of hope and joy
But there was no food
So they starved to death
And that was too bad for them
Yes, that was too bad for them

Then people came from England to see
What happened to the Pilgrims
But all they found
Were the empty houses
And the things they left behind
And that was too bad for them
Yes, that was too bad for them

Granted, this poem seems to have more to do with the Roanoke Colony than the Plymouth Plantation founded some 37 years later. But the simple pleasure it takes in the cruel fate of the colonists runs so counter to the prevailing sentiment of the season that it fills my heart with joy.

*****

The Pilgrims were, of course, a little nuts, a combination of Christian fundamentalists and Jehovah's Witnesses. As I've written in these pages before, they were Puritans, religious conservatives who were upset about the excesses of the Anglican Church. Such as Christmas. And Easter. The Puritans who stayed in England were a driving force in the English Civil War, which led to the rise of (Puritan) Oliver Cromwell and the closing of the theaters (amongst other things). Remember the Restoration? That was the restoration of Charles II to the throne of England. And that's another story.

The Puritans who came to North America believed that Armageddon was at hand and hoped to establish the Kingdom of Heaven in the New World. They saw themselves as the Chosen Elect written about in Revelations, and everyone else – Anglicans, Catholics, and of course all non-Christians (such as Native Americans) – was damned to hell. In their holy war against Satan, you were either with them or you were with the enemy.

They would feel right at home in contemporary America.

*****

The First Thanksgiving was neither a Thanksgiving, nor the First. For the Puritans, "thanksgiving" was a religious observance, which would have been held in September and would have included neither feasting nor games. The Wampanoag, on the other hand, held six such festivals during the year, from the Maple Dance in early spring when the sap began to run to their version of a winter solstice festival. What we celebrate as "Thanksgiving" was a standard harvest festival, which would have been familiar to both the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag, and on the part of the Native Americans, would have been held for at least hundreds of years.

Still, it was the first documented harvest festival celebrated by white folks in the New World, and there was plenty to be thankful for (especially considering that the previous winter, nearly half of them had perished). And that's good enough for me.

Too Bad, II

2005-11-23T21:53:00.000-06:00

I'm doing something this Thanksgiving I've never done before. I'm observing it alone.

Now before you all get your knickers in a twist, let me assure you that this is not a tragedy. Nor is it a call for eleventh hour invitations. While the situation is not completely my choice, I am not unhappy with the results.

Let me explain.

For the past few years, I've celebrated Thanksgiving with a handful of friends, several of whom are part of my weekly Friday night Salon. You've all read the Tale of the Turducken. For a number of reasons, none of them good, said celebration has been cancelled this year. But for the same reasons, I didn't know it would be cancelled until a couple of weeks ago.

At first, this cancellation was not a cause for alarm. I had several other options.

There is a small family which has become part of my extended family. I spend time with them on a host of occasions throughout the year: holidays, birthdays, summer barbecues. Unfortunately, the father of one half of the couple is in poor health, and they have made plans to spend the holiday weekend with him.

I have another friend whose mother decided, once he got his own apartment, that she was done hosting Thanksgiving, and handed the reins to him. I've had Thanksgiving with them before and hoped to do so again this year. There are several attractive things about this option. The first is that it provides me with the opportunity to cook. When I join this group, I go to my friend's house the night before. Instead of just bringing a side dish, I get up in the morning and help out in the kitchen. Since I enjoy cooking – and since my turkey gravy is a wonder to behold – this is fun for me. The other benefit of visiting this friend is that I spend Thanksgiving night at his house as well, saving me the distinctly unpleasurable task of traveling on a full stomach. Or waking up from a food coma to do so.

Unfortunately, while this option is sort of available this year, it is not attractive. My friend is spending Thanksgiving with his extended family in Kankakee, a mere 70 miles from my house. If I had transportation. Since I don't, I would end up traveling the 45 miles to my friend's house by commuter rail, only to journey an additional 60 miles to Kankakee. Not gonna happen. Especially since I would not have the opportunity to help with the cooking, and I would have to travel on a full stomach, both of which obviate the very reason for wanting to spend the holiday with these people to begin with.

You see my predicament.

Thanksgiving with friends was "officially" cancelled 10 days ago. (I had a sense of its demise a week before that.) I got the news about Kankakee and my other friend's plans last Friday. This still gave me nearly a week to make other arrangements. I have family in the city and nearby suburbs, as well as other friends on whose good graces I could call. But here's the thing. For the past few years, I've been roasting a turkey this week anyway. Having Thanksgiving at a friend's house means you miss out on leftovers, arguably the best part about Thanksgiving dinner. Even if you go home with a packet of leavings, it's rarely anything substantial enough for a second meal, and sometimes not enough for a truly worthwhile sandwich. So I've taken to buying a small turkey I can roast for leftovers and stock. I make enough spiced cranberries to bring some for dinner and still have some at home. And that's a start.

This year, I'm making dinner for myself. Butternut squash soup to start. Then comes turkey, with sage stuffing (not traditional in my family) with sausage and apples, mashed sweet potatoes (a lower fat alternative) and Brussels sprouts (which only I like) roasted with shallots. I have the makings for a pumpkin pie, but I'm not a big dessert fan, so I may skip it. After dinner, I'll watch Miracle on 34th Street, which starts on Thanksgiving and ends on Christmas Eve, or maybe the original Yours, Mine and Ours, with Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball (and a young Tim Matheson) on Turner Classic Movies.

Mind you, this is not a new tradition. I'm not such a grinch that I'll want to spend every Thanksgiving alone. (Hmmm. Maybe I'll watch The Grinch on DVD.) But for this year, it's a not unpleasant notion.

The More Things Change

2005-11-23T09:50:00.000-06:00

In preparing this holiday article, I took a look back into the files. Here's some of what I found:

11.21.2001
Wild About Harry, part II
I've seen it. In fact, I was one of the millions who saw it on Saturday, rocketing it to the highest one-day gross in history.

[The original "Wild About Harry" article, the previous week, anticipated the release of the first Harry Potter film. I didn't expect to see it until after the initial buzz died down, so my attendance on that Saturday was a surprise to me.]

11.22.2002
King Harry
"Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets" opened at multiplexes across the land last Friday. There were special midnight screenings at 12:01 am on Friday morning, for those kids who needed their Harry fix. Since the movie is over 2 1/2 hours long, these kids didn't make it to bed until after 3 in the morning. Thanks, Mom! Now off to school!

[I didn't send a Thanksgiving Reader in 2003 (nor, in fact, from September 2003 until March 2004!), and "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" wasn't released until the summer of 2004. But last year's issue opened with a familiar theme:]

11.19.2004
This week's issue is mostly reruns. I had my teeth cleaned today and it's 7:30 and I'm just not up for anything new.

[And also:]

11.22.2002
As I write these words, I'm wearing the last of my Crest Whitestrips (TM). This Dental Whitening System is guaranteed to give you noticeably whiter teeth in just 14 days. Well, I've followed their regimen for the past two weeks and don't see any difference.

[It's hard to believe that just one short year ago, many of us were mourning the results of the presidential election. Here's a snippet:]

I can't write any more about politics without my head exploding, but I can't think of anything but politics. I'm like something out of Scanners. I need to take this break to wash that president right out of my hair. Come December, maybe I'll be funny again.

[Here are a few other appropriate blurbs from that prescient issue:]

If the message of the first four years was, "If you're a Democrat who disagrees with George Bush, you'd better watch out," the message of the next four years is already shaping up as, "If you're a Republican who disagrees with George Bush, you'd better watch out."

I was appalled to see Arlen Specter, a five term Senator and loyal foot soldier to the Republican Party, slapped down for suggesting anti-abortion judges might find confirmation a tough road. ... Oh, by the way, in the past four years, Democrats have blocked only 10 of Bush's judicial nominations, while passing 203. MORE THAN UNDER ANY PRESIDENT IN HISTORY. Yeah, Specter and the Dems are a real threat.

Meanwhile, House Republicans changed their rules so Tom DeLay could remain in place as House Majority Leader even if he is indicted for a felony and Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist plans to change Senate rules so that a judicial nomination could be brought to the floor for a vote by a simple majority rather than the three-fifths majority - 60 votes - now needed to end a filibuster. You are with us or you are with the terrorists.

[This all sounds very familiar to me. Back in 2001, we were a nation at war. In Afghanistan. Remember Afghanistan?]

Nothing like a little war to make the holidays special. It's an American tradition. Washington crossed the Delaware on Christmas night to take Trenton. The Battle of the Bulge took place during Christmas and New Year 1944/45. Remember the Tet offensive? Now that was holiday spirit!

American forces are going to have a tough time of it this Thanksgiving. With Bob Hope sinking fast, Wayne Newton, in his new position as USO chairman, is threatening to entertain the troops. He's already staged a Veterans Day benefit, "Las Vegas Salutes the Spirit of America," featuring Robert Goulet, Rick Springfield, Carrot Top and Rich Little. Nothing like rounding up a passel of has-beens and second stringers to raise both spirits and cash. Now he's on the road with Rob Schneider, country singer Neal McCoy, Bo Derek and The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. I guess Connie Stevens and Phyllis Diller are staying home.

So let's see ... a new Harry Potter movie, dental problems, controversy surrounding the War on Terror ... it must be Thanksgiving!

The Pusher Man

2005-11-22T21:33:00.000-06:00

As you know, this time last week I was in recovery from dental surgery. Okay, an extraction. The dentist sent me home with two prescriptions: one for Amoxicillin, an antibiotic to cure the infection on one side of my mouth, and another for Vicodin, to ease the pain on the other. In both cases, he checked the "may substitute" box on the prescription.

I filled the scrips at CVS. This is not my usual drugstore, not that I have one, but if I did it would be the Walgreens down the street. But there's a newish CVS in my neighborhood, and so they've been sending out coupons. One offered a $25 gift card with a new prescription. How could I say no?

I should have known something was up when the first response of the pharmacist was, "These are some good meds." She clarified her statement by saying they weren't very expensive, but the cat had stuck its head out of the bag. I dithered about the store while she filled the prescription.

When I returned, another pharmacist – the actual pharmacist? – gave me the prescription, but also a tip. Instead of Vicodin, she had substituted Hydrocodone, which is Vicodin without the sharkskin suit. The prescription was for 8 pills. Since the instructions specified a dose of one tablet every 4 to 6 hours, this was 2 or 3 days' worth of treatment. Sufficient. But the pharmacist informed me that, as with many kinds of drugs, the more you buy, the cheaper they are. 8 pills were $10.99. But my scrip allowed for one refill, and 16 pills were also $10.99. Did I want the double dose?

When I originally went to my periodontist, I had some extensive work done. At the time, he prescribed some Vicodin, but told me that Advil would probably do the job just as well. He was right. He told me the same thing this time, and said I could choose whether or not I wanted to spend the money on Vicodin. He could have skipped the second prescription altogether, but pain is unpredictable.

The druggist was not making any more money by selling me twice as much opiate. Unless she was getting a kickback from the drug company for pushing their product. But it's a generic drug; there is no brand name. As for the sale, it was the same price. For twice as much. I understand the concept of bulk discounts. But it's never the same price for twice as much.

I appreciate her informing me of the savings possibility from a perspective of customer service. But did I need twice as much hydrocodone? Did I need half as much?

Between 1988 and 1998, the number of prescriptions per year for first-time users of Vicodin and similar painkillers grew from 500,000 to 1.6 million.

In animal studies in the 1930s, researchers discovered that hydrocodone, in addition to being an effective painkiller, "induced euphoria, and therefore there was danger of addiction." The drug produced "excitation indistinguishable from that produced by morphine in morphine-tolerant rats." Finally, "Its repeated administration to dogs and monkeys leads to the development of tolerance but more slowly than that of morphine or Dilaudid [a relative of morphine] and to the occurrence of abstinence syndromes that are less severe than with the other drugs." In other words, not only is it addictive, but you don't know you're getting addicted until you're really addicted.

I will not become addicted to hydrocodone. I don't have a doctor that will keep writing me prescriptions for the stuff. But I do have a pharmacist who will sell me twice as much as necessary for the same price. And in a world in which patients are told to ask their doctors about drugs X, Y and Z, and doctors write three times as many prescriptions for the stuff as they did 20 years ago, I am in a growing minority.

The Downward Spiral

2005-11-16T21:35:00.000-06:00

When I woke up Tuesday morning, little did I know I would end the day one tooth lighter.

This story begins a couple of months ago. Actually, it begins in 1989.

That was the year I lost a filling and decided I should go to the dentist for the first time in a decade. If you are a Bliss, you know that we don't believe in all that new fangled medicine. If you are married to a Bliss, you know how set we are in our beliefs. Passing out on the front lawn is sometimes enough to get us to go to the doctor. Sometimes.

In fact, I think I lost that filling before 1989. But in 1989 I discovered I would not be teaching at Loyola in 1990, so I had better take advantage of my dental insurance and get that filling replaced. A friend recommended a dentist, and though I never actually saw that dentist, I did see his associate. Replacing the filling was no big deal. As it turned out, the associate told me he saw no sign of decay in that tooth, and the filling had probably not been necessary in the first place. He filled the hole with bonding compound (or some such thing; it's been 16 years), cleaned my teeth and took some X-rays, probably not in that order.

Then he told me a version of that old joke: "Your teeth are fine, but your gums have to come out."

This was not the first time I had been told I had periodontal problems. As a small child, I went to a dentist who told me I had gingivitis. On the other hand, he told everyone they had gingivitis. He "treated" me for it, and no dentist ever mentioned it again. But as I saw perilously few dentists in my adult life, I had little opportunity to receive another such diagnosis.

Anyway, my new dentist sent me to a periodontist, which led to a long and unpleasant procedure, the details of which I won't go into at this time. (Said procedure was also terribly expensive, at least for Loyola's insurance company.) In order to avoid going through such an experience again, I've continued going to this periodontist. Three times a year.

I had my last cleaning and checkup in July, so when my tooth starting bothering me, I didn't think much of it. At first it was just some sensitivity in the last molar on the upper right side of my mouth. Because of my periodontal problems, I will occasionally experience some discomfort in my gums. Generally, that means I need to pay some attention to that area when I brush and floss, and in a day or two it clears up. So I paid some attention to that area when I brushed and flossed. It didn't clear up.

It didn't get worse, but it didn't get better. It was very sensitive to cold. And increasingly sensitive to heat. I couldn't chew on that side, because pressure hurt. But I had not yet passed out on the lawn.

Then another tooth started acting up.

*****

Let me tell you something about my teeth. They're heroic. I can count the number of cavities I've had in my life on one hand. While crossing my fingers. And sucking my thumb. Despite my periodontal issues -- which, by the way, never caused me any pain, at least not until after I had them fixed -- I've never had any real trouble with my teeth. Then, a month or so before my appointment last July, I started having problems with the last molar on the lower left side of my jaw. (If you're keeping score, this is exactly opposite the tooth which just started bothering me.) It didn't hurt, but it felt odd. Out of alignment. At first I thought it was a result of how I had been sleeping. Or god knows what. But I cleaned it and flossed it (and marked it with a B), and after a few days it took care of itself.

However -- and this may be a cause of some surprise at this point in the narrative -- I mentioned it to the dentist on my last visit. (We don't like going in, but once we're there we take care of things.) The thing is, it wasn't bothering me any more. So he poked it and prodded it (and marked it with a B), and said there may have been some infection in the gum which had caused some swelling, and that had affected the tooth, but it looked okay now. If it bothered me again, he said I should call him and he'd prescribe some antibiotics.

As should be obvious by now, the other tooth that started acting up was that lower molar. So now I couldn't chew on my right side because of the painful tooth and couldn't chew on my left side because of the misaligned tooth. I finally called the dentist.

Okay, here's another thing. It's not easy to get in to see my dentist. He's only in his office on Tuesdays and Thursdays (periodontal work pays well), and is usually pretty booked up. I go in for cleanings and checkups every four months, and sometimes we're scrambling for an appointment. (The hygienist is only there on Thursdays -- for your convenience -- but she works elsewhere. Hygiene work doesn't pay as well.) And I have an appointment in two weeks. So at first I didn't call because I had just been to the dentist, and figured it couldn't be anything that serious, because someone would have spotted it. Then I didn't call because I figured I'd be going back in a few weeks anyway. So when I called on Tuesday, it was only to arrange to have him look at my tooth on December 1, when I had an appointment.

It didn't turn out that way.

As it turned out, the dentist had to be out of the office by 1 pm on Tuesday. Because of this, he hadn't scheduled any appointments after 11 am. So when I called at 9:30 and told his assistant what was going on, she said, "What are you doing right now?"

I wasn't doing anything I couldn't put off.

The dentist was in surgery, but would be done by 11. Could I come in by 11:30?

I was there at 10:50.

*****

My dentist works in a "professional building" on Sheffield Avenue. I generally end up in one of the little windowless examining rooms, where the cleaning takes place. This time I was shown into the big examining room, where the X-ray machine lives. The chair faces a row of windows which look out on Sheffield. Across the street is a condo building where yuppies live. (Are there still yuppies?) Location, location, location. These fools have paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for an apartment with a view of a dentist's office. Compete with X-ray, drill, the whole magilla. With the big ass chair looking right at 'em. Suckers.

Not that this affects them. As the dentist told me while he was prepping me for X-rays, one of his neighbors practices yoga with his blinds up. In his underwear. I'll let you figure that out.

It's been a while since I've had dental X-rays. The dentist hands me a piece of equipment the size and shape of canning tongs and says, "Can you bite down on this?" My first response is, "I don't think so." But I do. He shoots both teeth, the upper right and the lower left. Then goes to develop them.

Before he shoots the X-rays, he puts the lead apron over my chest and soft parts. I can't remember the last time I've felt so comforted. Really. You're in the big La-Z-Boy with the headrest to begin with, then he lays this shield on you that's not too heavy, but has just enough heft. It's padded and it's fitted and it covers you like a big lead security blanket. I want one for my couch.

Anyway, he comes back in a few minutes and says, "This doesn't look good." Which is something you never want to hear from a doctor. It has to do with impacted wisdom teeth -- are there any other kind? Apparently one is pressing against my upper tooth. It is, he tells me, "wrapped around it." Which I believe is an exaggeration. He shows me the X-ray, and sure enough ... oh, who the hell am I kidding. He does show me the X-ray, and he explains what's going on, which is why I like this dentist, but I don't have my reading glasses and it's a one- by two-inch piece of film, and all I see is teeth. Apparently the problem on the lower left is also due to an impacted wisdom tooth, so I'm two for two on that score. There is indeed a pocket between the teeth which has become infected, so he prescribes some antibiotics to take care of the problem "for now." When I ask him when we might have to actually deal with that problem, he says, I kid you not, "The crystal ball is fuzzy." As for the other tooth, the one on top, the best thing to do is pull it. "You want to do it right now?"

*****

Here's another thing about the Blisses. When you ask us, "You want to do it right now?" our immediate response is generally "No." If you ask us, "Do you want to ...?" our response is generally "No." Once we think about it, we come around. But we're not cliff jumpers.

I said yes. Hell, I'm in the office, the tooth has to come out, let's do it! Truth be told, I had a sense the tooth might be coming out. It was not feeling very secure, and neither was I. So I had already gotten past no on my own.

Fortunately for the neighbors, we relocated to another windowless room for the extraction. I'm sure you don't want to hear all about it. The highlights: He thinks he can pull it out with his bare (well, gloved) hands. I did too. The tooth did not. So he goes after it with the forceps. No dice. Finally... You remember Mary Poppins' umbrella? The one with the handle shaped like a parrot's head? He eventually resorts to some tool roughly the same size and shape to yank out this tooth which is already being pushed out of my head by an aggressive wisdom tooth. "You may feel some pressure," he understates. Victory.

*****

So now I am one tooth light. And you know what? It makes me feel old. The good thing is that it's the very last molar on the top, so it's not visible. And he checked my old X-rays, and the other upper wisdom tooth is far enough away from its molar that it shouldn't cause any problems. And for now, the tooth on the bottom seems to be under control.

But this is the first "permanent" tooth I've lost. There's a gaping hole in my mouth. And while its nice that the pain is gone, it's still going to be a while before I'm comfortable chewing on that side. And I'm already rinsing dinner out of the Gum Canyon.

This is the way the world ends, I suppose. Not with a bang but a whimper.

Boo!

2005-10-28T07:47:00.000-05:00

Monday is Halloween. This doesn’t mean as much to me as it did when I was a child. Back then, there were only three TV networks, plus a handful of local VHF and UHF outlets. But you could count on scary movies all through October. Now he have 500 cable channels and what have you got? Jeepers Creepers on SciFi. Even AMC's Monsterfest is reduced to a week this year.

I won’t be watching Jeepers Creepers, but I will tune in afterwards (9pm in Chicago) for the "Ghost Hunters Halloween Special." "Ghost Hunters" is one of my guilty pleasures. I've been meaning to write about it for weeks now, and suddenly the show is on hiatus until January. Damn you, unpredictable cable TV schedules! Since the show is on SciFi, it will probably continue to turn up somewhere on their schedule. And season one is available on DVD. (Season two just concluded, with a bang-up season finale.)

"Ghost Hunters" is an example of what has been recently dubbed a "docu-soap." It is essentially reality TV, in that we follow the adventures of real people which are documented by TV cameras. But it is not a game show, like "Survivor" or "The Amazing Race." (I just typed that as "Survivor of the Amazing Race," which I think would be a more interesting program.) The "soap" part has to do with the fact that there is a continuing story line, although unlike a show like "The Real World" (the original docu-soap), each episode is self-sustaining. It’s like "Road Rules" with ghosts.

Well, not always ghosts. The show follows a group of paranormal investigators called The Atlantic Paranormal Society, or TAPS. Get it? They are based in Rhode Island, of all place, and used to be known as Rhode Island Paranormal, or RIP. The show is not this jokey, but this gives you an idea of the level of the material.

What makes TAPS different is that they go into an investigation assuming that a location is not haunted, and attempt to debunk whatever experiences the homeowners – or whoever – have experienced. They come loaded for bear, with a slew of video cameras, microphones, EMF (electromagnetic frequency) detectors, and more. Plus, of course, the cameras which are following them for SciFi. Although they depend on their own experiences, the only evidence they hold as legitimate is what they can capture on tape (or DVD, as the case may be). Any evidence they cannot explain, they hold as possible proof of a haunt.

TAPS' founders, Jason Hawes and Grant Wilson (no relation to Joe), are especially suited for this debunking by their day jobs as Roto-Rooter men. This is what sucked me into the show to begin with, and is, I'm sure, what sold SciFi on the concept. Jay and Grant are ordinary, blue-collar kinda guys who just happen to chase ghosts in their spare time. And have been doing so for more than ten years, long before SciFi came along. Jay is a big bear of a guy, with a shaved head and a no-nonsense attitude. Grant is the sidekick, a bit more of an intellectual, but still a very practical problem solver. Their background as plumbers helps them recognize when mysterious noises are due to expanding pipes or drafts in the walls. In a recent episode, investigators linked a room which was unnaturally cold to a blocked heating duct. Let’s see your "Poltergeist" gang do that!

Part of the fun of "Ghost Hunters" is watching the interaction between the members of the TAPS crew. Bumbling tech director Brian Harnois, who ran out of a haunted prison because of a close encounter, left the crew after his personal life started affecting his work. (He was constantly on the phone with his unseen girlfriend.) His conflicts with Andy Andrews, whose unfortunate name only adds to the problems of his ferret-like visage and the voice of a young Woody Allen, led to Andy leaving the tech department and becoming an investigator. Brian's departure cleared the way for the ascendance of Steve Gonsalves, a heavily tattooed monobrowed techie who feels he don't get no respect. Dustin, the new guy, is scrawny and gawky with spiky, over-producted hair. He considers himself the sex symbol. Heather considers herself a "sensitive," and uses her dowsing rods to detect energy fields. Fortunately, Donna, the even-keeled case manager, is able to keep all these personalities in line. To give the show credit, it doesn't play up any of these characters as caricatures (despite my one-line descriptions), and after a few episodes, you view them as old, if somewhat erratic, friends.

Which is not to say that Jay, Grant and the gang don't occasionally uncover some truly spooky phenomenon. Most of this is in the realm of EVP, or electronic voice phenomena. Investigators carry tape recorders with them, and ask questions in "empty" rooms: "Why are you here?" "Are you the woman in the painting?" Sometimes voices turn up on the tape which were not audible to human ears. (Obviously, for this sort of evidence to be effective, the audience has to believe that everything TAPS is doing is above board, and that they are not screwing with the evidence. I'm down wit dat.) Generally, it takes some effort to decipher what these "voices" may be "saying," and that is dependent on the natural instinct to make sense out of chaos. But sometimes these voices are quite clear, and quite chilling.

At other times, evidence is caught on video. Generally, this consists of an object moving inexplicably, often over some period of time, during which such movement might not be visible (or at least obvious) to the naked eye. Sometimes the video evidence helps debunk a case, as with two cases involving children. In one, a little girl was being woken up in the middle of the night by a spirit which would poke her. Video revealed the "spirit" to be her older brother, who slept in the room with her and walked in his sleep, returning to bed before she was fully awake. Another boy was being taunted by a ghost who shook his bed and pulled off his covers. Video showed the boy was a restless sleeper, possibly due to playing video games before going to bed. When his mother viewed the video of him tossing in bed, she asked, "Is this over several hours?" "No, it's several minutes."

And sometimes evidence is captured by a thermal-imaging digital camera, which records heat fluctuations. You've seen these sorts of images before. Think Predator. The thermal cam stuff can be really creepy. This is what was captured on the season finale, and which is displayed on the "Ghost Hunters" page at SciFi under "Exclusive Case File Video." For more evidence from the show, check out the TAPS site. There are other samples of evidence under "Evidence," on the navigation bar at the left. Oooh, scary stuff.

I’m a sucker for this show because my philosophy is similar to the official TAPS line: I believe in everything and nothing. Even if you believe in nothing, it's a fun ride.

*****

The structure of the show is pretty predictable: the guys do two investigations; the first is a bust, the second has some payoff. This is especially true of the second season, which focuses more on "most haunted" places (the Winchester Mystery House, the Lizzie Borden House) than personal homes. There's a nice episode on the Queen Mary, in which someone tampers with their equipment to show a bed "unmaking" itself. The TAPS guys do a nice job of catching it.

****

One thing that I've just recently noticed about this show is that it's one of the few accurate presentations of straight guys in the media. Most characters on TV and film live lives which are, by necessity, much more wrought with drama than those of your average straight man. (As we know, "wrought" is an understatement for the amount of drama in the lives of women and gay men.) And these male characters are played by actors who are pseudo-straight at best. Straight men on other reality shows don’t count: they are so busy primping for the cameras they might as well be A&F boys. The producers of "Ghost Hunters" also produce "American Chopper," and while amusing, no one would mistake those guys for straight. The TAPS crew are just guys (and some women), and it's a nice change.

**********

Another Scary Thought

Speaking of life after death, the National Academy of Sciences and the National Science Teachers Association announced yesterday that they won’t grant the Kansas board of education permission to use their copyrighted materials in the state’s new science standards because of their approach to evolution. Copyrighted material appears on almost all of the document's 100 pages. A joint statement by the two organizations read, "Kansas students will not be well-prepared for the rigors of higher education or the demands of an increasingly complex and technologically-driven world if their science education is based on these standards. Instead, they will put the students of Kansas at a competitive disadvantage as they take their place in the world." A third organization, the American Association for the Advancement of Science, went even further, saying, "Students are ill-served by any effort in science classrooms to blur the distinction between science and other ways of knowing, including those concerned with the supernatural." I'm happy to see someone refer to creationism as "the supernatural."

An Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle

2005-10-27T14:33:00.000-05:00

Waiting for the results of the grand jury investigating the Valerie Plame case has me feeling like a kid on Christmas Eve. By the time you read this, you may know the results, but for me, they are still under wraps. All the pundits were abuzz Tuesday with the news that indictments could come down the next day. By the time I got home from class on Wednesday, the jury had adjourned for the day, with no results in sight. The term of the grand jury ends today (Friday), so prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald either goes public or goes with a new grand jury. Fitzgerald met with Judge Thomas Hogan on Wednesday, and while it seems unlikely he is seeking to extend the investigation, he may seek to have his indictments sealed. Which means what, I'm not exactly sure.

The unsettling thing about this case is that I realize I may get nothing but socks and underwear. Sure, I'd love to see Karl Rove take the perp walk and watch the White House collapse like a house of cards, but the odds of that happening are very slim. It seems likely that Scooter Libby will have his hat handed to him, but that doesn't have the same satisfaction as seeing his boss, Dick Cheney, spanked on the National Mall with a yardstick. I fear that in the end, the anxiety that this government has about the results of the investigation may prove groundless.

*****

First, a little background on the case, for those of you who have not been paying attention or who may have gotten lost along the way. It all starts back in 2001, when Italian intelligence agents obtain documents that indicate that Iraqi officials tried to buy yellowcake from Niger. This yellowcake is not a Sarah Lee product, but is essentially uranium ore. Eventually the documents turn out to be forgeries, and the agents turn out to be Roberto Benigni and Don Novello. But that comes later.

In 2002, Joseph Wilson, an ambassador under Bush I and Clinton, is sent to Niger to investigate these allegations. Wilson claims the order originated in Dick Cheney's office; Cheney says the order originated in the CIA. In any case, in March Wilson goes to Niger, decides the claims are bogus, and files a report with the CIA. The CIA summarizes his findings in a memo to the White House.

[Note: Cheney says he never asked for such a report and never received such a report. Note also, though, that Cheney receives daily briefings from the CIA, so if there was a memo that essentially said, "Nothing's happening," it could easily have been filed without being read.]

Nearly a year later, on January 28, 2003, George Bush delivers his State of the Union address with the now-famous "16 words:" "The British government has learned that Saddam Hussein recently sought significant quantities of uranium from Africa." A week later, Colin Powell addresses the United Nations, but doesn't mention African yellowcake because he doesn't think the evidence is valid. As it turns out, nearly four months earlier, a similar line was struck from a speech Bush delivered in Cincinnati, because of objections from the CIA, which did not consider the claim legitimate. So by that time, the National Security Council, if not the President, knew the assertion to be false.

In March 2003, we invade Iraq. Two weeks before we go, the head of the Atomic Energy Agency reports to the UN that the yellowcake papers are forgeries.

July 6, 2003, Joe Wilson writes an op-ed piece for the New York Times called, "What I Didn't Find in Africa." It is about his trip to Africa and what he didn't find there. Duh.

July 14, 2003. For most of us, this is when the story starts. Robert Novak writes an article about Wilson's trip to Africa. Now here's the thing. The Novak article? Doesn't say much. It's not much more than a half-assed overview of the events. Novak supports Bush, saying he never saw Wilson's report prior to the State of the Union. (Which is probably true. But it doesn't mean no one had seen it. Remember Cincinnati.) But he doesn't slam Wilson, beyond saying the CIA didn't consider his information as definitive.

What he does say, about midway through, is this: "Wilson never worked for the CIA, but his wife, Valerie Plame, is an Agency operative on weapons of mass destruction. Two senior administration officials told me Wilson's wife suggested sending him to Niger to investigate the Italian report. The CIA says its counter-proliferation officials selected Wilson and asked his wife to contact him."

If you didn't know what you were looking for, you wouldn't find it. What we now know is that Valerie Plame worked for the CIA under "non-official cover." She was a NOC – one of the undercover agents on the list that Vanessa Redgrave is trying to buy in Mission: Impossible. NOCs are valuable because they operate in plain sight. To foreign governments and businesses, they are ordinary American citizens and businessmen; they treat them as civilians and don't pay attention to them. But if they are discovered, they have no diplomatic immunity. There's nothing the US government can do for them.

In September 2003, the Justice Department opens an investigation into the leak that resulted in Novak revealing Plame's identity.

*****

On one hand, this case truly is much ado about nothing. By the time Novak outed her, it appears that Plame was no longer working in the field, so she wasn't really in danger of assassination, as would be the case with an active NOC. Novak may or may not have known Plame was undercover; whoever told him about Plame may or may not have known she was undercover. (Hopefully the grand jury report, if there is one, will shed some light on this.) Novak's article has been interpreted as an effort to smear Wilson's credibility. It doesn't really do that. I'm not sure how it's supposed to do that. I assume by portraying Wilson as someone who needed the influence of his wife in order to get work. Or perhaps as showing that Wilson's trip was politically motivated. This may have been the intention of the "Two senior administration officials," but Novak sure doesn't carry it off.

[Side note: I just recently read Novak's article, and saw how empty it was. Until I actually read the article, I assumed Novak had openly outed Plame, and that he had drawn a more distinct connection between her job and Wilson's trip. Instead, it is just so much blather. A Washington Post article says the leakers revealed Plame's name to six highly placed reporters. If that's the case, it's unfortunate that Novak's the only one who ran with it. At the same time, since Novak is the one who actually outed Plame, it's suspicious that he got off so easily, especially when reporters from Time and The New York Times faced prison sentences. I assume Novak cooperated with authorities.]

It is the intention of the leakers that ticks me off, and why I want to see trouble come down. This desire to win at all costs is the most destructive element in modern politics. It is no coincidence that Novak's article appeared within a week of Wilson's. Wilson revealed his experiences and information about the Nigerian uranium, and accused the Administration of going to war in Iraq under false pretenses (something we now know to be true). Rather than responding to his points, the choice of the Administration (officially or not) was to challenge Wilson's integrity. Not only is that underhanded, it is clearly "un-American."

The Administration is on as shaky moral ground in this dispute as the Clinton administration ever was. After saying he would fire anyone who leaked Plame's name, the President now says he will fire anyone who is guilty of a crime. The argument which has been made is that the leakers – Libby, Rove or whoever – didn't know that Plame was undercover, so they're not guilty of a crime. That may be true. But why bring her up at all? Contrary to statements by Fox News, she did not "send" Joe Wilson to Niger – she didn't have that authority. She may have recommended him for the job, but Wilson served as head of African affairs on the National Security Council: no one disputes he had the credentials. Plame was not part of the story. Until someone told Novak, and Novak told everyone.

Perhaps no "crime" was committed in revealing Plame's name. Perhaps, since she no longer seems to work undercover – she sure can't any more – no "harm" was done. But who gets to make that decision? Who decides that it is okay to reveal the identity of this undercover agent, but not that one? Certainly not an unelected official such as Libby or Rove. And if the order came from Cheney, does that make it okay? And if it's okay for this administration, is it okay for the next? When is it not okay?

Here's one case where it should not be okay: when we're fighting a War on Terror, and the agent is "an Agency operative on weapons of mass destruction." Plame's work was directly related to what, in 2003, was the most important objective to the United States. Surely that was no time to reveal her identity because of a petty turf war. George H.W. Bush said that revealing an agent's identity was treason. If these incidents occurred under a Democratic administration, you can bet that word would be bandied about. If you doubt me, take a quick glance at which popular books of political opinion have the word "treason" in the title.

Finally, the point that never seems to be made: Wilson was right. There is no credible evidence that Saddam's government bought any yellowcake. What Wilson said was true. What Bush said in the State of the Union was not true. Even if Plame was responsible for Wilson going to Africa, what he reported was the truth. Trying to undermine his report was done in service of a lie. It may not be illegal, but certainly is morally reprehensible.

*****

Rumor has it that Karl Rove may face perjury charges in relation to his testimony to the grand jury. For someone like Rove, who is constitutionally incapable of telling the truth, such an accusation is meaningless.

*****

Whoever goes down for this – if anyone does – they don't have much to worry about. Failure is the road to the top in this administration. Remember Michael Brown, the former head of FEMA? Know what he's doing now? Working for FEMA. As a consultant. At his same salary of $3,000 per week. White House insiders say that back before she was a Supreme Court nominee, Harriet Miers was promoted from Deputy Chief of Staff to the Counsel's Office because she took so long to get anything done that she drove Chief of Staff Andy Card crazy. And Stephen Hadley, the guy who approved the yellowcake reference in the State of the Union over the objections of the CIA, know what he's doing now? That's right, he's the National Security Advisor!

*****

I'm glad that Harriet Miers withdrew herself from consideration for the Supreme Court. I'm sure she's a lovely lady, but answering questions about previous cases by saying "I'm going to have to bone up on that" does not bode well for a future on the Court. Remember her name for future editions of Trivial Pursuit. Maybe it will take your mind off the fresh hell which George Bush is bound to visit upon us with his next nominee.

Shut Out

2005-10-27T08:31:00.000-05:00

As you probably know, I don't have a lot of truck with the myth of the liberal press. But I do believe in the anti-Chicago press. Last year at this time, we were deluged with stories about the Boston Red Sox. This morning, if you didn't live in Chicago or hadn't seen the game the night before, you wouldn't know the White Sox had won the World Series. Perhaps Boston's "curse" was more romantic, being tied in with Babe Ruth and all. But not only had the White Sox not won a World Series in 88 years (trumping Boston's drought by two years), they hadn't played in a Series since 1959. During that time, Boston went to three (in 1967, '75 and '86, if you're keeping count).

Granted, the story was swept from the online sources (the ones I track, anyway) by Harriet Miers withdrawing her name from nomination for the Supreme Court. That, and the news that there's no news from Patrick Fitzgerald, and the $2 billion in bribes and kickbacks in the oil-for-food program. But the third story in the New York Times online was about reduced holiday fares on the MTA, while Yahoo focused on long lines for gas in Florida. Top sports story in the Washington Post? The NFL is considering relocating the New Orleans Saints to Los Angeles.

On another front, a news story about Chicago's main contribution to the War on Terror, "dirty bomber" Jose Padilla, referred to him as "New York born Jose Padilla." Come on!

The news outlets may just be following the trend of the viewing public. The TV ratings for this year's broadcast of the World Series were down 30% from last year. Although last year's ratings were unusually high, analysts are saying that this Series could hit a record low, besting the previous low ratings record held by the 2002 Series between the Anaheim Angels and San Francisco Giants.

The Final Word on Bill Bennett

2005-10-13T21:22:00.000-05:00

This is not the final word on Bill Bennett because what I have to say is so profound that it will put and end to all other discussion. It is the final word on Bill Bennett because I have taken so long to comment on it.

Bill Bennett, as I assume you know, served as the Secretary of Education under Ronald Reagan. He later served as the first “drug czar” under George H.W. Bush. Is it just me, or is it odd that the Director of the Office of National Drug Control Policy is called the drug czar? Shouldn’t a drug czar head up an international narcotics cartel? Is there something we should know? Bennett is also the author of “The Book of Virtues,” which is ironic from someone who has lost a reported $8 million gambling. Bennett now hosts talk radio program called “Morning in America.” It might as well be called “I Kissed Reagan’s Ass.”

[For those of you too young or out of touch to remember, “It’s Morning in America” was a catchphrase of the Reagan campaign. During that time, many of us felt that we were mourning in America. We had no idea how bad things would get 20 years later. Bennett calling his show “Morning in America” is the same as Rod Paige launching a radio show called “Compassionate Conservative.” Look it up.]

[By the way, yet another of my gripes against our current president is that he’s ruined the word “compassion” for me. It is now a synonym for “political bullshit.” In the wake of Hurricane Katrina, a number of ads have used “compassion” in their copy. I always respond badly. Thanks, George.]

Anyway. Set the Wayback Machine Sept. 28, 2005. I know, it’s not that way back. A caller to Bennett’s program linked the problems with Social Security to abortion. According to the caller, the number of babies aborted since the Roe v. Wade decision would be enough to fund Social Security. Bennett pointed out one of the fallacies in his argument, which is the assumption that these people would all be “productive citizens” (i.e. wage earners). [Another point, which Bennett did not point out, is that not many more than a third of those people would be old enough to be paying into the Social Security fund.] Bennett then made the point that it’s dangerous to use such arguments to oppose abortion because “it cuts both ways.” “It” being, in this case, a scalpel, I imagine. To support his point, he mentioned the book “Freakonomics,” whose authors draw a connection between the decline in crime and the rise in abortion. Bennett said he didn’t think their statistics were necessarily accurate, but then went on: “But I do know that it's true that if you wanted to reduce crime, you could -- if that were your sole purpose, you could abort every black baby in this country, and your crime rate would go down. That would be an impossible, ridiculous, and morally reprehensible thing to do, but your crime rate would go down.”

Oh, the hue and cry.

Needless to say, condemnation was quick and furious. Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi and representatives from countless civil rights groups demanded an apology. By the next day, even the White House had joined the fray, saying the comments were “not appropriate.”

Bennett refused to apologize. The next day, he characterized his statement as a “thought experiment about public policy,” and went on to say “I entertained what law school professors call ‘the Socratic method’ … I suggested a hypothetical analogy while at the same time saying the proposition I was using about blacks and abortion was ‘impossible, ridiculous, and morally reprehensible,’ just to ensure those who would have any doubt about what they were hearing, or for those who tuned in to the middle of the conversation.” This is the short form of the Socratic Method. In the true Socratic Method, Bennett would have made the argument and led his listeners to recognize that it was “impossible, ridiculous, and morally reprehensible.” But who has time for that on talk radio?

The following week, Bennett issued his own battle cry when he addressed the Bakersfield Business Conference. He began, “I have been slandered, defamed, misrepresented and libeled.” Them is the definition of fighting words. He went on, “So today, although I cannot apologize for what I said and meant, which when understood in context ought not be objectionable, I regret that people have misrepresented my views so that they have been the cause of hurt, controversy, and confusion.”

I understand Bennett’s anger at being characterized as a racist. He does not believe himself to be a racist, and no one likes to be accused of something of which they believe themselves innocent. (Most people don’t like to be accused of things of which they know full well they are completely guilty, but that’s another matter.) And while I don’t believe his words were mischaracterized, I do believe they were misunderstood. And in the case of folks like Reid and Pelosi, willfully so. It should be obvious to even the leftest leftist that Bennett did not call for aborting black babies.

Which doesn’t mean he is not a racist. His comments most certainly are.

Bennett’s statement is racist because it equates blacks with crime. This becomes even more apparent when you look at the conversation in its entirely. Bennett says, “one of the arguments in this book “Freakonomics” that they make is that the declining crime rate, you know, they deal with this hypothesis, that one of the reasons crime is down is that abortion is up.” His caller interjects, “Well, I don't think that statistic is accurate.” Bennett continues, “Well, I don't think it is either, I don't think it is either, because first of all, there is just too much that you don't know.” Bennett clearly says that he does not agree with the premise in “Freakonomics.” He then goes on to say, “But I do know that it's true that if you wanted to reduce crime, you could -- if that were your sole purpose, you could abort every black baby in this country, and your crime rate would go down.” I don’t see any way to read this other than, “Abortion is not responsible for a drop in crime, but aborting black babies does result in a drop in crime.”

Granted, this was an off-the-cuff comment. Bennett broadcasts every weekday morning for three hours, and much of what he says is off the top of his head. But that is part of what makes it telling. Bennett doesn’t have to qualify his statement, because to him it is so obviously true. Blacks ate the overwhelming cause of crime: he knows it and so does his audience. When called on to apologize, he points to his statement that, “That would be an impossible, ridiculous, and morally reprehensible thing to do.” He completely misses the point – as do most of his opponents – that what is objectionable is not a call for black abortions, but the unquestioned assumption that black abortions – versus all abortions – would reduce crime.

A subtle distinction? Perhaps. Apparently too subtle for both Bennett and his foes.

I Love New York

2005-09-22T19:48:00.000-05:00

If you know me at all, you know that’s not true. But I got am email this week from a friend who truly does love New York. He was pursuing a job in Milwaukee, of all places, which he did not get. Disappointed as he was to not get the job, he was happy – one might say thrilled (“I am sooooooooo glad”) – to not have to leave the city he loves.

I know a number of people who live in New York, and they talk every now and then about leaving it, but I know they’re lying. And not just because, as my friend Jim observed, that when you live in New York you feel like you’re in line, and you don’t want to get out of line. It’s because they’re addicted to it. Not “Bright Lights, Big City” addicted, more “Sex and the City” addicted. Their relationship with New York is their primary relationship, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

And they’re not the only ones. A lot of us feel that way about the places we live. We’ve gotten to know each other over the years, and we’ve developed an emotional connection. Truth be told, the city doesn’t care: he would drop us in a minute and not even notice we were gone. If ships and cars and maybe even computers are girlfriends, cities are boyfriends. Cold hearted assholes, but sexy as hell.

I like Chicago because he's smart and serious, but even after all these years, he can still make me laugh. His moods run hot and cold, but it’s nothing personal. Sometimes, he’ll surprise you by how beautiful he is. He gives you your space, and doesn't always need to know what you're doing. Above all, he's reliable and sensible, and knows the value of a buck.

New York always has something new up his sleeve, even though there are parts of him you know you can always count on. He's terribly vain, which can make you feel neglected, but when he shows you he loves you, you're on top of the world. He has a lot of money, and he can make you feel like you do too, even when you don't.

I don't know LA that well, but I recognize that glamorous people can be intoxicating. He can be very charming, and he has really interesting friends. He has a lot of crazy ideas, but he has enough enthusiasm to make you believe in them, and sometimes he actually follows through. He's like a kid, always on to the next new toy, but he’s happy to let you play.

New Orleans is the boyfriend your parents don’t approve of. He indulges all your worst habits, and doesn't make you feel bad about it. He’s trouble, but he doesn’t hurt anyone but himself. He’s into the harmless Deadly Sins -- lust, gluttony, sloth, maybe pride -- rather than the harmful ones -- greed, anger, envy. I don’t trust him, but I hope he gets well soon.

By the way, my prediction? Mardi Gras 2006 – huge. Yuge. It seems impossible that the city will be ready in 5 months, and I’m sure much of it will still be uninhabitable. But somehow or other, people are going to party. Sodom will rise again!

Sowanyway. I’m sure plenty of you are in dysfunctional relationships with your own city. Let me know what that’s all about. Feel free to add to or correct statements I’ve made about your town. Let me hear about your love/hate relationship with San Francisco or Santa Fe or Las Vegas. Or Oil City or Coralville. I’ll publish the results in an upcoming edition.

The Buck Stops. Briefly.

2005-09-15T22:58:00.000-05:00

President George W. Bush shocked the nation on Tuesday by accepting a spoonful of responsibility for the role the federal government played in the devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina. It is the first time the president has accepted responsibility for anything negative that has happened anywhere in the past 5 years. Maybe longer.

“Katrina exposed serious problems in our response capability at all levels of government,” Bush said at a White House news conference. “And to the extent that the federal government didn't fully do its job right, I take responsibility. I want to know what went right and what went wrong.”

A partial list of what went wrong might include allowing a complete amateur to run FEMA, having a Director of Homeland Security who considered the hurricane and its aftermath unpredictable (despite repeated warnings, even in the popular press), and cutting the budgets of the agencies responsible for maintaining the levees and providing disaster relief.

But I quibble.

I’m sure supporters of the president will take this acceptance of blame as a sign of leadership. For me, it’s too little too late. And I don’t mean Hurricane Katrina too late. I mean 5 years too late.

Some of the Republican Apologists I know – people who admit to being put off by a number of Mr. Bush’s policies and opinions, but who voted for him nonetheless in the last election – have explained that they felt he would do a better job than his opponent of “protecting them.” From what, I don’t know. Terrorists I suppose, though homosexuals or non-Christians could just as easily have been on their minds. Let’s put that fairy tale to bed once and for all, shall we? I don’t know that the government response would have been any better under John Kerry, but it certainly could not have been worse. In any case, a Democratic president might have taken a glimpse at the disaster mitigation plans that were in operation under the Clinton administration, and possibly even resurrected some of them.

George Bush and his government blew it in 2001. That attack was also considered “unpredictable,” despite a bipartisan report that suggested just such an attack was imminent, and which lay untouched on the Vice President’s desk for four months prior to the attack. (The report was delivered to the President, since the previous occupant of his office had commissioned it, but he didn’t consider it worth his time.) He it in 2001, he blew it in 2005. The only thing he’s done successfully is removing from power the leader of the one nation which didn’t have the capacity to attack us. When is he going to start “protecting us”?

Certainly not while he’s on vacation.

There are people out there who dislike (one might say “hate”) George Bush a lot more than I do. To me, he is the Wizard of Oz. Not just in that once you get past the smoke and mirrors, there’s nothing more than a little man behind a curtain. After all, Karl Rove has to have something to do. But when Dorothy discovers his identity, she accuses of him of being a very bad man. The Wizard replies, “Oh no, my dear, I’m a very good man. I’m just a very bad wizard.” Even if you believe George Bush is a very good man, by now you must admit he’s a very bad president.

*****

I’m writing this before the President makes his prime time address announcing his recovery plan for areas affected by Katrina. I imagine he’ll tie it to the War on Terror. I’ll skip the address. I’ve seen enough advertising in my life to know that “New and Improved” is rarely anything more than old and crappy in a new box.

*****

Meanwhile, the loveable lefties over at MoveOn.org are pushing for an independent Katrina Commission to – in the words of Hillary Clinton, who is sponsoring legislation to support such a commission – “provide a comprehensive and unbiased evaluation of what could and should have been done to avoid the extraordinary damage, the loss of life, the evacuation problems and the inadequate relief efforts that have exacerbated the dislocation and suffering of thousands of Americans affected by Hurricane Katrina.”

I feel about MoveOn the way I imagine a number of my counterparts on the Right feel about the NRA: their enemies are my enemies, and God bless ‘em if they accomplish anything worthwhile, but most of the time they just make people on my side look crazy.

MoveOn has sent out two email blasts in support of this Commission. The first one, sent last Friday, is the one that bugged me. The subject was “We need a Katrina Commission. Tell the media.” The gist was that any investigation led by the White House will be more concerned with making the President look good than uncovering real problems (given), and that the White House fought against the 9/11 Commission until the families of the victims made that a politically untenable position (granted). This email called for supporters to write letters to the editors of their local media outlets, urging the formation of an independent commission to investigate causes and suggest solutions for the problems which led to the bungling of the response to Katrina.

I have two problems with this approach. First, I’m not a big supporter of government commissions, independent or otherwise. I’ve never known them to accomplish much. Consider, if you will, the Whitewater Commission, which wasted millions of dollars and untold hours to eventually decide that, well, the Clintons did nothing wrong in their dealings with the Whitewater Development Corporation after all. Granted, through this investigation, the Independent Counsel discovered that the president had an affair and lied about it on an affidavit, thus leading to an eventual impeachment that – guess what! – wasted millions of dollars and untold hours. Perhaps if you hated Bill Clinton enough, this incredible waste of time and money was worth it to you. To which I can offer only two words: Tax and Spend. Or perhaps, Big Government.

Meanwhile, the investigation into the Valerie Plame outing? Not much happening there. Even the trumpeted 9/11 Commission, which published a best-selling report which nobody really read, hasn’t led to any real reforms in government or homeland security, the establishment of an office by that name notwithstanding. As former New Jersey Governor Thomas Kean, the moderate Republican who led the Commission, said of Katrina: “The same mistakes made on 9/11 were made over again, in some cases worse. Those are system-wide failures that can be fixed and should have been fixed right away.” Obviously, they have not been fixed. And as I noted earlier, we saw what happened to the 2001 report prepared by a bipartisan commission that determined a terrorist attack on US soil was likely to occur in the near future.

What I do believe in – or used to, before they became shills for corporations and the White House – is the Press. And indeed, if MoveOn was encouraging us to lean on the media to conduct their own investigations into the layer upon layer of problems that led to our governments’ – local, state and federal – inabilities to cope with this disaster, I’d be right there with them. But MoveOn is something of a mad dog, scratching and biting at every new thing that crosses its path. This is the organization that put its effort into a movement to censure Bush, mere months before the election. And for all their sniping, MoveOn believes in the efficacy of government, a policy with which I cannot agree. Depending on a government commission, independent, bipartisan or otherwise, to solve a problem is lazy. The approach says, “Someone’s investigating this; I can ignore it now.” Which, history tells us, is the furthest thing from the truth. It was the Washington Post, after all, which did the legwork for the commission that eventually investigated Watergate, and not vice versa.

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Brian Williams, who succeeded Tom Brokaw as the anchor of NBC Nightly News last year, offered a ray of hope when he predicted that the Katrina story might bring “a healthy amount of cynicism back to a news media known for it.” We can only hope.

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Not that I didn’t sign MoveOn’s damn petition to Congress. You can do so too.

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Anything you ever wanted to know about government commissions* was answered this week by the John Roberts hearings. I didn’t watch much of the hearings myself (is 15 minutes much?), but from what I’ve read and heard, they were pretty much content free. One analyst said that by his count, for every 15 words the senators said, Roberts said 5. That sounds about right. There’s nothing a politician likes more than the sound of his or her own voice. The point of most of the questions seemed to be to demonstrate how smart the questioners were, rather than to evoke any meaningful answers from the candidate. Politicians are people who are too ugly or too lazy to get into show business.

Roberts, meanwhile, proved that however he turns out to be as a Justice, he is the ultimate lawyer. Given a choice between straight answers and sophistry, he chose the latter every time. Time and again he invoked the “Ginsburg rule,” which allows a judicial nominee to not answer questions that suggest how he or she would rule on a future case. The rule refers to Canon 5 of the American Bar Association's Model Code of Judicial Conduct – yes, the Bar Association has a code of conduct: who knew? – which “prohibits a candidate for judicial office from making statements that commit the candidate regarding cases, controversies or issues likely to come before the court. As a corollary, a candidate should emphasize in any public statement the candidate’s duty to uphold the law regardless of his or her personal views.” [This is a disappointment to those of us who wish it referred instead to Alan Ginsberg: “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by the Senate Judiciary Committee, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the Washington streets at dawn looking for an angry decaf latté…” Oh, that’s the Bork rule.] The nickname for the Canon refers to Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who chose not to answer 30 questions during her confirmation hearings in 1993. Though Roberts claimed to be “more forthcoming than any of the other [Supreme Court] nominees,” he relied on Canon 5 more that twice as often as Ginsburg. He all but quoted the last line of the Canon directly, asserting time and again that he “not an ideologue.”

In fact, though they may be loath to admit it at this time, John Roberts is exactly the sort of lawyer Americans say they hate. All along he has all but claimed to have no beliefs of his own, but to have spent his career essentially following the money. When Dick Durbin questioned him about a case he argued before the Supreme Court which would allow an HMO to refuse to pay for surgery deemed medically necessary by an independent arbiter – a case he lost – Roberts said he did not take the case based on whether he thought it was right, but because it had legal merits. “In representing clients, in serving as a lawyer, it's not my job to decide whether that's a good idea or a bad idea. The job of the lawyer is to articulate the legal arguments on behalf of the client.” That’s true enough, but there’s something very “path to hell” about it. [On the other hand, there’s also something very old-fashioned conservative – with both a capital and small “c” – about it which I find reassuring.] The irony of all this is that Roberts is the very lawyer who Bush excoriates when he rails against tort reform: someone to whom winning is more important than right or wrong.

In the long run, the Roberts hearings are nothing but show anyway – “Kabuki,” according to Joe Biden. Roberts will be confirmed under any circumstances. The question facing Democrats is whether to vote for him, in order to not seem partisan, or to vote against him, in order to demonstrate that they have the votes to filibuster the next nominee. Whether to stretch and stretch and stretch their legs, or whether to hold their breath indefinitely.

*But were afraid to ask. It’s lame, but once I wrote that first line I had no choice.

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Roberts’ age, which was initially of some concern to me, is becoming a comfort. John and his wife Jane have two small children, Josie and Jack. Yeah, I know. Someone’s been playing with the Play-Doh White Christian America Fun Factory. Anyway, there’s plenty of time for Josie to face that unwanted pregnancy and for Jack to come out of the closet (Did you see him dancing when his dad’s nomination was announced?), and dad’s smart enough to have that idea somewhere in the back of his mind.

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News Flash!

Jack Roberts (and doesn’t Mom look swell) is actually Batboy!

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Andrew Sullivan is a conservative who hates Bush, and for all the right reasons. From Thursday’s blog: “Fiscal conservatism as we have known it is over. No liberal Democrat would ever have managed to spend as much and as incompetently as this administration. Even in opposition, the GOP would have mounted a defense of the country's fiscal standing against such reckless big government liberalism. But in power, the only difference between the GOP and, say, a Ted Kennedy administration is that the Republican free spending goes to different interest groups, has no restraint or domestic opposition, and rests on borrowing rather than taxing. Yes, Katrina reconstruction is inevitable and important. But $200 billion doesn't grow on trees. Where is it going to come from? Part of the point of fiscal responsibility, after all, is that disasters do happen and the government should have fiscal lee-way to respond to them. But we have no lee-way at all, thanks to this president and his party. Tonight, the president will try and rescue himself politically by spending money he doesn't have. As Margaret Thatcher once remarked, the only thing socialists are good at is spending other people's money. That's the one thing this president has known how to do – whether it was daddy's money or yours.”

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On the Docket …

As you may have heard, the Pledge of Allegiance is unconstitutional again.

Michael Newdow, the atheist who brought the suit against the California public schools in 2002, is at it again. Newdow’s suit doesn’t actually claim that the Pledge is unconstitutional, but that the phrase “under God” is. A federal judge has agreed, ruling that the reference to one nation under God violates school children's right to be “free from a coercive requirement to affirm God.”

The Supreme Court dismissed Newdow’s case last year, saying he “lacked standing” because he did not have legal custody of the daughter on whose behalf he sued. He got around that problem this time by filing an identical case on behalf of three other children and their parents. The case is likely to find its way to Chief Justice Roberts’ desk in no time.

I’ve written about this case twice before: once when the 9th Circuit Court first found on Newdow’s behalf, and again last year, when the Supreme Court skirted the issue.

I wonder what Arnold’s take is on this. After all, just last week he said the Court, rather than the Legislature, should determine the issue of gay marriage. Is he still such a staunch supporter of the Court?

Personally, I don’t care what Pledge they say, as long as they don’t sing that horrid musical version.

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In Entertainment News

I meant to plug the return of “House,” my favorite network TV show (Tuesdays at 8pm Central on Fox) last week, but then I got all swamped with hurricane news and ran out of time and space. Well here we are again. Dag, yo! I’ll try to get to it next week, along with why “Rome” is no “Deadwood” (or “Sopranos”) and the weirdness that is “Ghost Hunters.”

Meanwhile, if you’re free this weekend, you may be able to catch one (or both!) of the final two performances of David Kodeski’s one man show, “And Some Can Remember Something of Some Such Thing,” at Live Bait Theater, 3914 N Clark. Tickets are only 10 bucks, and are available at 773.871.1212. I’ll be there on Saturday. I’d send you to Live Bait’s website for more information, but it sucks.

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Bushemantics: The agency of the Department of Agriculture that used to be called Animal Damage Control is now known as Wildlife Services. What services do they offer wildlife? In 2004 the agency killed 2.7 million animals, including bears, coyotes, wolves, and wild turkeys and chickens. Such service!

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Here Comes the Flood

2005-09-08T22:29:00.000-05:00

“When the flood calls,
You have no home, you have no walls”
– Peter Gabriel

I’m glad I had a chance to visit New Orleans – albeit briefly – before it was swept away in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. When I wrote about the city last October, I was forced to mock it – me being me and this being the Reader and all – but if you’re looking for excessive drinking and acts of public lewdity – and you know I am – there’s no better place for it.

I am amused by the Religiati who have declared the Hurricane to be a sign of God’s wrath against a wicked city – a sort of Sodom and Gomorrah with andouille sausage. Michael Marcavage of Repent America issued a statement saying, "Although the loss of lives is deeply saddening, this act of God destroyed a wicked city. … May this act of God cause us all to think about what we tolerate in our city limits, and bring us trembling before the throne of Almighty God." If this is the case, God must really hate Florida, considering what a battering He put it through last summer. Not that I can blame him.

Granted, Katrina struck New Orleans a mere two days before the annual “Southern Decadence” festival – an event that makes Mardi Gras look like a Quaker picnic – was to begin. Unfortunately for Marcavage and his ilk, Bourbon Street was one of the areas of the city least affected by the storm and floods. While the tony homes and churches of the Garden District are under feet of water and the poor neighborhoods are devastated, much of the French Quarter has remained relatively high and dry. In fact, a couple of bars on Bourbon Street have already reopened for business, and handful of hardy homos and fairy princesses celebrated Southern Decadence with a “Life Goes On?” parade.

The lesson of which is, when it comes to destruction, fags seem to be the only ones God doesn’t hate.

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Not to be left out, some Jewish religious leaders are also attributing the destruction in Katrina’s wake to God’s wrath. But they’re not blaming the faigelah. Rabbi Avraham Shmuel Lewin, executive director of the Rabbinic Congress for Peace, says "Katrina is a consequence of the destruction of Gush Katif [the Jewish settlements in the Gaza Strip] with America's urging and encouragement. The US should have discouraged Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon from implementing the Gaza evacuation rather than pushing for it and pressuring Israel into concessions."

Rabbi Joseph Garlitzky, of Chabad Lubavitch, has unearthed the sort of parallels that make conspiracy theorists tremble with glee. Among them:

* 10,000 Jews were expelled from the Gaza Strip. Katrina's death toll is expected to reach at least 10,000.

* The ratio of the population of the US to that of Israel is about 50:1. 10,000 Jews who lost their homes in Gaza is the equivalent of about 500,000 Americans who are now reported to be displaced as result of Katrina.

* Katrina, written in Hebrew, has a biblical numerical equivalent of 374. Two relevant passages in the Torah share the same numerical equivalent: "They have done you evil" (Genesis 50:17) and "The sea upon land" (Exodus 14:15).

* George Bush is from Texas and Condoleezza Rice is from Alabama. They are the Americans held most responsible for the Gaza evacuation. Hurricane Katrina hit the states in between Texas and Alabama – Louisiana and Mississippi. (One would think it would have hit Texas and Alabama, but God works in mysterious ways.)

* The day Katrina hit, Israel began disinterring bodies from the area's Jewish cemetery. Now corpses are floating in flooded areas of New Orleans.

One renowned conspiracy theorist, Israeli Barry Chamish, has been reading his Bible Code. Early this week, he sent a mass email in which he noted: "GUsh is like GUlf, and KATif is like KATrina. If you take 'KAT' from KATif and KATrina, you are left with 'IF' and 'RAIN.' If you support Gush Katif evacuation, it will rain."

That’s the kind of crazy talk even Pat Robertson would be forced to admire.

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Speaking of crazy, there are an estimated 10,000 citizens who are still unwilling to leave New Orleans. Hard to believe, when the government is offering each household 2,000 bucks to start over. Woo hoo! Some of these folks are actively hiding from the police who are seeking to evacuate them. You thought New Orleans was great before, just check it out now, the streets running with raw sewage and floating corpses!

As it turns out, leaving town is no guarantee of safety. A smattering of refugees have died due to vibrio vulnificus, a bacterium associated with cholera. Though uncommon under normal circumstances, the floodwaters of Louisiana are rich with the stuff. If the vulnificus doesn’t get you, the E. coli surely will. Levels in the water are at least 10 times higher than acceptable limits set by the CDC, and have been measured at a million times higher than what the EPA allows for recreational waters. Which is fine, as long as you don’t get any on your skin, especially if you have cuts or open wounds. Which never happens during a disaster.

By the way, more than 1000 sources of drinking water in Mississippi, Louisiana and Alabama are affected by the poisoned waters. But a quarter teaspoon of bleach will clear that right up. Skol!

Nasty as the raw sewage may be, it’s the bobbing corpses that would keep me out of the streets. (No surprise that a number of the holdouts are in the French Quarter, where the streets are free of corpses, though they still run with the traditional junkies.) News stories have focused on the newly dead, found in hospitals, nursing homes and by the side of the road. But I’m wondering how many bodies came bobbing out of those shallow graves or washed, half decayed, out of above-ground vaults. By this time, the place must look like the end of Poltergeist.

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Other victims of the storm include some of the 1400 animals from the city’s Audubon Zoo. The dead include two sea otters that died from stress. That would have been me.

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The one ray of hope in this event is that people are staying pissed off. And not just because of the political implications. Granted, the government screwed the pooch on this puppy – more about that in a minute – but I’m not enough of an idealist to believe that if the other side had been in power, they would have done much better.

No, I’m glad people are pissed off because we’ve become such a country of pantywaists who are so afraid to be angry about anything, that it pleases me that a small group have been able to hold on to their anger. Granted, they’re a bunch of Looziana hotheads, so what would you expect.

Aaron Broussard, the president of Jefferson Parish, blew his top on The Early Show on CBS, saying, “Bureaucracy has murdered people in the greater New Orleans area. … Take whatever idiot they have at the top of whatever agency and give me a better idiot. Give me a caring idiot. Give me a sensitive idiot. Just don't give me the same idiot.” Love him. This is like my dad proposing voting against whoever was in office, on the grounds that he was bound to have done something illegal by now. The Fire Chief of St. Bernard, noting that a task force of police and firefighters from Canada arrived before the Feds had sent any help, said, "If you can get a Canadian team here in four days, US teams should be here faster than that. When they're paying $5 to $6 a gallon for gas, they're going to realize what this place means to America." More on that later. And an Air Force captain told the AP, "I've been in a lot of Third World countries where people were better off than the people here are right now. We've got 28 miles of coastline here that's absolutely destroyed, and the federal government, they're not here."

Norlins Mayor Ray Nagin has kept his head a bit better than those surrounding him. Early on, he was even a tad optimistic about how quickly the city could recover. Even then, though, he was predicting a death toll of 10,000. And Tuesday, when the levee was repaired enough to start pumping out the city, he warned reporters that there were untold horrors just waiting to be uncovered.

In these days when even war is sanitized for our protection, a little unvarnished truth is bracing.

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Don’t expect such truth from energy analysts. While a number of folks are understandably worked up about the effects the damage to Gulf energy production and processing will have on the economy, the official word is that the next storm is the one we have to worry about. I thought that was what they said about this one.

Tom Bentz, vice president of BNP Paribas Commodity Futures, says, "We certainly can't stand another storm." Tim Evans, senior oil market analyst for IFR Energy Services, adds, "If we were to see another major storm, we could have damage on damage." Peter Beutel, president of Cameron Hanover, an energy risk management company, warns that "Having one beneath Texas would be an unmitigated disaster."

This is like the impotent parent who says, “The next time you sass back at me, you’re gonna be sorry.” It’s Chicken Little in reverse. The sky is not falling, but it could fall at any minute, and the next piece of sky that falls will be really bad.

If you want to get a little paranoid about where we’re heading, perform a Google search for “peak oil.” Or check out this article. But don’t call me in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep.

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Of course, there’s no way we could have predicted this, right? I mean, the combination of the storm and its aftermath. Or even if we could, there’s nothing we could have done about it. Certainly, that was the take of Homeland Security Director Michael Chertoff. "That 'perfect storm' of a combination of catastrophes [a powerful hurricane and a breach of levees] exceeded the foresight of the planners, and maybe anybody's foresight," Chertoff told reporters early this week.

Except that FEMA, during the Clinton administration, had developed a program called Project Impact, which was designed specifically to mitigate the aftermath of such disasters. The scenario that played out in New Orleans was at the top of their list. Unfortunately, this program was cancelled at the end of February 2001.

Last year, FEMA conducted a drill to prepare for a massive hurricane hitting New Orleans. Scenarios included a helicopter evacuation of the Superdome. This year, the agency planned to fix unresolved problems as such evacuating sick and injured people from the Superdome and housing tens of thousands of stranded citizens. Unfortunately, funding for that planning was cut.

Don’t get me started on the funding cuts to the Army Corps of Engineers, the group responsible for maintaining the levees. ‘Cause I could go on for an entire article. Ands nobody needs that. But as a result of these cuts, the Corps essentially stopped work on the levee system in 2004. For the first time in 37 years. Federal money for flood control in southeastern Louisiana has been cut in half since 2001, and funding for hurricane protection is about one-third of what it was is 2002.

Of course, Chertoff’s got a lot on his plate. Maybe he missed all that.

Well, in July of this year, US News & World Report ran an article about the danger of a Category 3 storm hitting New Orleans. Katrina was Category 4. The article quoted Ivor van Heerden, the director of Louisiana State University's Center for the Study of Public Health Impacts of Hurricanes, who said, "If a hurricane comes next month, New Orleans could no longer exist." The author, Dan Gilgoff, explains: “New Orleans sits below sea level and is locked in by an extensive levee network, like a giant flood-prone bowl; a modest Category 3 storm could deposit up to 27 feet of water in some neighborhoods. A few years ago, the American Red Cross ranked the prospect of a hurricane's hitting New Orleans as the country's deadliest natural disaster threat, with up to 100,000 dead.”

So US News & World Report – in addition to a number of experts Gilgoff interviewed for his article – had imagined the storm which Chertoff called "breathtaking in its surprise."

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Bear with me, if you will, for an extensive description of the disaster:

“It was a broiling August afternoon in New Orleans, Louisiana, the Big Easy, the City That Care Forgot. Those who ventured outside moved as if they were swimming in tupelo honey. Those inside paid silent homage to the man who invented air-conditioning as they watched TV "storm teams" warn of a hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico. Nothing surprising there: Hurricanes in August are as much a part of life in this town as hangovers on Ash Wednesday. “But the next day the storm gathered steam and drew a bead on the city. As the whirling maelstrom approached the coast, more than a million people evacuated to higher ground. Some 200,000 remained, however – the car-less, the homeless, the aged and infirm, and those die-hard New Orleanians who look for any excuse to throw a party. “The storm hit Breton Sound with the fury of a nuclear warhead, pushing a deadly storm surge into Lake Pontchartrain. The water crept to the top of the massive berm that holds back the lake and then spilled over. Nearly 80 percent of New Orleans lies below sea level – more than eight feet below in places – so the water poured in. A liquid brown wall washed over the brick ranch homes of Gentilly, over the clapboard houses of the Ninth Ward, over the white-columned porches of the Garden District, until it raced through the bars and strip joints on Bourbon Street like the pale rider of the Apocalypse. As it reached 25 feet (eight meters) over parts of the city, people climbed onto roofs to escape it. “Thousands drowned in the murky brew that was soon contaminated by sewage and industrial waste. Thousands more who survived the flood later perished from dehydration and disease as they waited to be rescued. It took two months to pump the city dry, and by then the Big Easy was buried under a blanket of putrid sediment, a million people were homeless, and 50,000 were dead. It was the worst natural disaster in the history of the United States.”

Pretty accurate, eh? This was published in National Geographic in October 2004. 11 months ago. Enough people knew enough of what was at risk nearly a year ago that an author (Joel K. Bourne, Jr.) could write a chillingly prescient account of what we’ve just seen.

It’s reason enough to be pissed off.

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I assume you know by now that the current head of FEMA, Michael Brown, not only has no background in disaster relief, he was fired from his last job, overseeing judges for horse shows, after a series of lawsuits which alleged failures of supervision on his part. That sentence makes at least four incredible assertions. It would tax the White Queen’s ability to believe six impossible things before breakfast. Brown got his current job because his college roommate was the former head of FEMA. When the roomie left FEMA to work for the president's re-election campaign, Brown took over.

Not to worry, though. Last March, Brown testified to the Senate Appropriations Subcommittee on Homeland Security that, "Our nation is prepared, as never before, to deal quickly and capably with the consequences of disasters and other domestic incidents." So we got that goin’ for us. Which is nice.

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Some people can always see the silver lining. And one of them, I’m happy to say, is former First Lady Barbara Bush. On touring the Astrodome complex last Monday, Bar noted that "So many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this is working very well for them."

Bar’s husband has teamed up with Bill Clinton to raise money for the victims of Hurricane Katrina. As you may recall, the boys teamed up earlier this year to raise money for the victims of the tsunami that devastated portions of Asia. Apparently they’re all fine now. You’d think George Bush, of all people, would know a few other guys with some connections he could call on. This seems right up Jimmy Carter’s alley. Rumor has it the slogan for the new fund is, “Fuck You Slopes, We’ve Got Trouble At Home.”

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In Related News …

You may not know this – I certainly didn’t – but Oregon has 4 of the 18 most active volcanoes in the nation: Mount Hood, Crater Lake, Newberry and South Sister. Well it seems there is a “bulge” which covers about 100 square miles near South Sister. That makes it about the size of Portland. The bulge is just that – a bulge in the Earth which has been rising for nearly 10 years at the rate of 1.4 inches a year. 14 inches in 10 years may not seem like much. But the cause of the bulge seems to be a pool of magma the size of a lake 1 mile across and 65 feet deep. This magma lake is rising 10 feet each year, but it’s under tremendous pressure, so it only deforms the surface 1.4 inches.

That sounds less good.

Oh, by the way, the magma is moving. Geologists know this because there was a swarm of 350 small earthquakes in the area a year and half ago. 350. The bulge could be a new volcano in the making, or it may result in nothing more than a small cinder cone that spews ash and lava.

Based on our experience in Louisiana, I say we ignore it.

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In Other News …

The California legislature has passed a bill which would allow gay marriage in that state. Governuhr Arnold Schwarzenegger said on Wednesday that although he "believes that gay couples are entitled to full protection under the law and should not be discriminated against based upon their relationship," he will veto the bill. He went on to say that the issue should be decided by the courts or by voters directly but not by the legislature.

Sigh.

When the courts allow gay marriage, they’re run by activist judges. When the legislature allows gay marriage, it should be left to the courts. Even Clarence Thomas, when he dissented against overturning sodomy laws in Texas, said that although he thought the law was foolish, it was up to the legislature to change the law.

You can’t win for losin’ around here.

Arnold’s complaint is that California voters approved a ballot measure five years ago defining marriage as between a man and a woman. According to his mouthpiece, Margarita Thompson, the issue of gay marriage should be put to voters in a referendum. "We cannot have a system where the people vote and the legislature derails that vote," Thompson said.

Well in fact we can. And we do. It’s called Representative Democracy. You may have heard of it. In this form of government, people elect representatives to do the day to day work of governing, rather than voting on everything themselves. If the people don’t like the decisions their representatives make, they don’t vote them back into office. I think we’re trying to set one up in Iraq.

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My favorite headline of the past week: “Workers Disappearing From Hay Fields.” Unfortunately, the article turned out to be about mechanization on farms.

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Won't You Come Home, John Roberts

2005-09-05T12:48:00.000-05:00

As you must know by now, Chief Justice William Rehnquist shuffled off this mortal coil, complete with gold chevrons on the sleeve, Saturday night. And as I’m sure you’ve heard, President Bush has chosen to elevate John Roberts, his current nominee for the bench, to the nominee for the open slot.

This is a fine thing for liberals. At least for now.

Roberts is likely to be confirmed. He was likely to be confirmed before this, and despite any statements by Senate Democrats, he is just as likely to be confirmed this week as last. Roberts is a conservative, but does not seem to be as conservative as Rehnquist was.

In addition, Sandra Day O’Connor has agreed to stay on the Court until a replacement can be named and confirmed. So for now, the Court is no more conservative than it was before O’Connor’s retirement was announced.

Despite the title, the Chief Justice does not have significantly more power than the other Justices. He has a variety of administrative duties, many of which are nominal at best. In practice, most of the real work of the Court is carried out by several or all of the Justices, in consultation. The real power of the Chief lies in his ability to build consensus, which is what will make Roberts a more effective Chief than, say, Scalia would be.

I expected the White House would use the death of Rehnquist to try to draw attention from the hubbub surrounding the mismanagement of the situation in New Orleans. This is its usual tactic. But apparently they realized that Katrina and her aftermath were too big for this sort of distraction. Human suffering trumps judicial nominees any day. And with his political capital at its nadir, Bush wisely chose to avoid confrontation.

For now.

It will be interesting to see who he eventually nominates to fill the renewed O’Connor opening. The choice will likely be tied to the ebb and flow of his political fortunes over the next weeks to months. Let’s hope things stay bad.

What The Sims Has Taught Me

2005-08-25T14:21:00.000-05:00

Several years back, when I first started this little mailing (October 2001), I wrote about how members of the online community were dealing with our inability to bring Osama bin Laden to justice; to wit, by destroying him digitally. Here’s a snippet:

“Thus, the proliferation of fantasy bin Laden destruction sites. As John Ashcroft announces that we may never find him, how best to vent our frustration at the terrorist bagman then to blow him up on the Net. In flash movies, he gets into fart wars with George Bush, shot up by Kumbaya-singing GIs, and decapitated by the Power Puff Girls. Games like “Yo Mamma Osama” give players a chance to shoot, bomb and bazooka the little devil into oblivion. CyberExtruder provides “skins” for Osama so you can import him into such games as Unreal Tournament and Quake3 and “frag that miserable excuse of a mongrel dog” or “nuke the flea bitten dung-eater.” Vicious rhetoric courtesy of the good folks at CyberExtruder.com.

“While there is a certain impotent joy to blowing up our current personification of evil, I prefer simpler means. Import Osama into The Sims, EA’s human-simulation game that allows you to manipulate the little lives of your own pet people. Instead of sending him to death and glory, move him into a suburban tract development where all his neighbors hate him. Give him a pot belly, dress him in tacky clothes, and stick him into a dead-end job. You can make him pee on himself (probably an unusual experience) or prevent him from bathing (probably not). When you tire of his antics, you can always starve him to death or drown him in the pool. I’ll take quiet desperation over total annihilation any day.”

Remember John Ashcroft? Remember when we were trying to capture bin Laden? Remember fighting terrorists instead of insurgents? Good times, good times.

[Speaking of Ashcroft, you may be interested in learning – if you haven’t heard – that this June, Alberto Gonzales removed the blue drapes that Ashcroft had installed – at a cost of some $8500 – to cover the naked breast of the statue of Justice in the Department of that name. First stem cells, now naked titties! Actually, in politics as in life, naked titties preceded stem cells. The world is going to the dogs!]

But this isn’t about Osama, or Iraq, or even John Ashcroft. It’s about The Sims 2.

*****

First, a little about The Sims. Once upon a time there was a little game called SimCity. In playing SimCity, you are a combination city planner and mayor as you build roads, zone for construction, and tend to the daily details of your own city, trying to raise money, encourage growth, and keep your people happy. Along the way, you deal with such natural disasters as fire, flood and attacks by Godzilla. Really. Whodathunkit, but the game was a huge success, leading to such follow-ups as Sim Farm, Sim Tower, Sim Earth, and yes, Sim Ant. While SimCity and its offspring inspired the “Tycoon”-style games (Railroad, Rollercoaster, Theme Park, et al), SimAnt led to The Sims.

You do realize this is a greatly simplified history, don’t you?

In The Sims, rather than controlling a city, you control the people who live in it. Or at least, in something resembling a suburb of it. Your little world is called a Neighborhood, and within the Neighborhood you can build, decorate, and yes, destroy houses. You people these houses with families of characters you build from scratch (or pull from the Family bin), determining not only their appearance, but their personality (Simology) in terms of Neat vs. Sloppy, Active vs. Lazy, and so on. You the pilot them through their little lives as they meet, socialize, build skills (cooking, charisma) and go off to work, with the goal of achieving greater success and buying more and nicer things.

Welcome to America.

The Sims was a huge hit. There are a lot of obsessive compulsives out there. Among whom I must number myself, because I found the game addictive. This game is to adventure games what Big Brother is to Survivor. Nothing really happens. You don’t even see your Sims at work. So what you’re dealing with is a lot of eating, reading, sleeping and pooping, with some TV watching and pinball playing thrown in for good measure.

It’s a lot like life.

Maxis – the company which created SimCity and was later acquired by Electronic Arts Games – released a series of expansion packs that built on the basic Sims game. Some of these featured new objects, characters and careers (based, in many cases, on things game players had developed on their own and posted online). Later expansion packs got your Sims out of the house, going downtown or on vacation. Eventually, EA created The Sims Online, which allowed your Sims to interact with those created by other players. (In a word: disastrous.) But through it all, the Sims remained terribly stagnant. It was a case of SSDD: Same Sim, Different Day.

Not any more.

In early 2003, EA/Maxis announced the release of The Sims 2. Though look and game play would remain substantially the same, the Sims would age, growing from a baby to an Elder. In addition, while players could create Sims of any age, when Sims had sex (a later development in the original game, wherein you could direct two Sims to “have fun” in bed), they could create an offspring which would combine the genetics (Simetics?) of the parent Sims. (This only happens if you choose “Try for baby.” In Simland, birth control is strong. And everyone is on it unless they choose not to be. The Sims are not Catholic.)

The Sims 2 was not released in early 2003. Nor in late 2003. And certainly not in March 2004, which is when online sites such as Amazon said it would be shipped. Or maybe July. But come late September 2004 – or most certainly some time in October – The Sims 2 was on the shelves.

*****

In my house, The Sims 2 was not on the shelf until January 2005. Which is when I got a new computer. My old computer was a workhorse which had served me well since November of 1999. When I retired it, the old girl still had plenty of life in her. But she was showing the strain of advancing technology. Since Moore’s Law suggests that computing power doubles every 18 months, my girl was more than 3 cycles old. And since developers design programs to run on the best systems, there were precious few upgrades left for her. Even the Net was starting to slow her down.

So I bought a new computer. Pentium 4 chip, 3 GHz processor, 512 megs RAM (upgradeable to 2 gigs), big fat hard drive, the works. And I bought Sims 2, ‘cause I had had such a good time with Sims 1. And I installed Sims 2, and my shiny new computer immediately crashed. Because the top of the line Intel graphics card wasn’t nearly top of the line enough for the needs of this fat new game which is a graphics whore. Now, I am not a total fool. I went into this computer purchase knowing I was not buying a “gaming machine.” But it’s the freaking Sims. It’s not some fast paced action game in which monsters are constantly leaping out at you or you’re racing through LA in a stolen car. It’s making dinner and playing darts. It’s the tortoise, not the hare.

Blah blah blah, new drivers, I won’t bore you with the details. Eventually it worked well enough, though it still has a nasty tendency to crash, just when you haven’t saved your game. Or you’ve saved too often. Or it gets cranky. In any case, I didn’t really get into the game until this summer, when I was unemployed enough to have some free time.

*****

As you play the game, you learn how to deal with the vagaries of Simish behavior. Most of which is a slight exaggeration of human behavior. Often very slight. Sometimes, just like me.

As in the original Sims, your Sims have needs. They are simple needs: hunger, hygiene, bladder, fun, comfort, social, energy and environment. Among your tasks, you need to keep them fed and keep them empty, keep their homes and bodies clean, give them things to do and people to do them with, sit them down and send them to bed. You monitor these needs through progress bars which proceed from green to yellow to orange to red red red. When their needs aren’t being met, Sims will let you know. Unfortunately, they don’t speak English. They do have language, though, a sort of English cadenced version of something from the Baltic States. And it’s not completely random. For example, if they can’t do something because an obstacle (chair, wall, other Sim) is in their way, they say something like “No dish.” At the same time, a thought balloon above their head displays the object (person, abstract concept) which is thwarting them. After a while, when you hear “no dish,” you think, like the mother of an impossible child, “What can be problem this time?”

The thought balloon – or speech balloon, if they’re in conversation – is your key to your Sims’ concerns. Sometimes it is obvious – another Sim, a ghost, a downhill skier. Other times, less so. Scratchy lines? A misshapen head? A burnt scone? I recognized the symbol for “bad environment” long before I was able to translate it into a broom and dustpan.

The Sims of S2 are much better at taking care of their needs: they are more autonomous than S1 Sims. In general, they will eat before they starve and pee before they explode. But such is not always the case. If a need is pressing, it will appear in a blue thought balloon. If it is extreme, it will appear in a jagged red thought balloon, and the Sim will scream at you, in a voice which suggests it is saying, “Mom! Don’t you know anything!” This is when you want to drown your Sim in the pool.

Sims are easily distracted. When you take your Sim out shopping – by the way, you can take your Sim out shopping – the first thing he or she is likely to do is go into the public restroom and look at the sinks, with a thought balloon which translates as “What’s this?” If they are at home, they can be in a room with toilets every three feet, and when they have to pee they will scream at you instead of using one. Frequently, they will fall asleep standing up rather than going to bed. Or they will scream at you to send them bed – even when they’re not doing anything else. This behavior is not as pronounced as it was in S1, when you had to micromanage every aspect of their lives. But it’s still maddening. Although the Sims in S2 grow up and age, in many aspects of their lives they remain 10 year old children. Just like your spouse.

Though Sims tend to suffer from ADD, at times they have a one-track mind. If they are playing chess, they will continue to do so until it is time to scream at you to feed them or send them to bed. If you have an espresso machine, they will drink coffee all night long instead of going to bed. This gives them the jitters, so its kind of funny, but it also makes them have to pee, so here comes the screaming. And if you have a hot tub, forget about it. Visitors will make a beeline for that tub. On one lot, I was forced to put the tub in a place that was inaccessible in order to get my Sims to do anything else. And I still hear complaints of “Heet way. No dish!” from visiting Sims.

Despite this, Sims will often satisfy their needs on their own. They will rarely satisfy them in an appropriate manner. When a Sim is dirty, it emits a cloud of green gas which they and others react to. (The same stink cloud appears above dirty dishes and when they fart. Yes, they fart. And think it’s funny.) Instead of screaming at you, sometimes they will wash up. I prefer my Sims to shower. It’s efficient, it takes less time, and gets them on with their day. Given their druthers, Sims will take bubble baths. They like bubble baths because they satisfy both hygiene and comfort. Unfortunately, they take forever, and the little suckers have a limited lifespan.

Sims will generally eat when they are hungry, assuming there is food in the fridge. In fact, if a Sim is both hungry and a little crazy – it happens; their emotional states are precarious – he or she will stand in front of an open fridge and binge. Even if a Sim is emotionally stable, it will not always make a wise choice. Sims can both “have” a meal – prepare a single serving – or “serve” a meal – prepare enough for six. Since Sims have families, and since even the most confirmed bachelor has to develop a shitload of friends in order to advance in his career, and thus must have frequent visitors, the “serve” function comes in handy. But a Sim can have a houseful of people, and he they gets hungry, he thinks of no one but himself. Unless you catch them in time, they will inevitably “have” dinner instead of “serving” dinner. I feel like a grade school teacher, asking if they brought enough for the entire class. On the other hand, I had an elderly grandmother – now sadly passed on – who, whenever she felt the slight bit peckish, would always prepare Lobster Thermidor for six. Even if everyone else was in bed or at work or school. It was a nice gesture, but I don’t need to waste all that cash.

*****

As a new addition to Sims 2, Sims now complement their Needs with Wants. Sims have an overarching Aspiration – Friends, Money, Romance – that affects all of their wants. So a Family Sim wants to get married and have children, while a Fortune Sim wants to earn more money and buy more things.

Sims are slaves to their wants. And they are compulsive. A Romance Sim wants to be in love. Then he wants to be in love with 3 Sims. Then 5. Then he wants to Woo-Hoo – Simish for sex. Then to Woo-Hoo with 3 Sims at once. (Not simultaneously, which is impossible (in the game), but concurrently.) Then to Woo-Hoo in a public place. And on and on and on.

Sims will not satisfy their Wants on their own, except accidentally. And their Needs and Wants frequently conflict. A Sim may Want a promotion at work, and the only way to get that promotion may be to Study. But if he Needs to have Fun, there’s no dragging him away from the television. Some objects can satisfy both Wants and Needs. The piano, for example, increases Creativity while it satisfies Fun. But if your Sim is cranky, you cannot convince it that playing the piano is Fun.

In part, this problem arises because Sims are victims of their personalities. A Popularity Sim craves becoming friends, and then best friends, with as many Sims as possible. Very similar to the Romance Sim, but without all the Woo-Hoo. But if they’re cranky, they may choose such interactions as Brag or Tease or Insult. Despite the fact that these choices are in direct contradiction to their greater Aspiration. Doesn’t matter to the Sim. They are creatures of the moment. They will play computers games rather than prepare for class.

Oh, no. That’s me.

[Sims will play computer games. Their favorites include such EA hits as SSX 3 and Sim City 4: Rush Hour. Need I say these games provide more Fun than anything else around?]

Nothing Sacred

2005-08-24T15:01:00.000-05:00

Lots of folks have gotten their knickers in a twist – and rightly so – about Pat Robertson’s personal fatwa against Hugo Chavez, the president of Venezuela. I’m skipping that one, for much the same reason I skipped the Cindy Sheehan affair: it all seems like business as usual. Every day there’s a new cause célèbre, and I can’t keep them all straight.

[For an in depth view of the cluttered closet Pat Robertson calls his mind, have a look at what my friend Todd has to say about Robertson's hit list.]

I am pissed off, however, about the desecration of Arlington National Cemetery by the government.

Arlington is, of course, the nation’s second largest and most prestigious national cemetery. Established during the Civil War, Arlington serves as a resting place for veterans of all our nation’s wars, from the American Revolution through current actions in Afghanistan and Iraq. (Dead from before the Civil War were reinterred in the 20th century.) The cemetery also houses the remains of John and Robert Kennedy, as well as memorials to the crew of the Space Shuttle Challenger and those killed in The Pentagon on September 11.

Even if you’ve never been to Arlington, you’ve no doubt been moved by photos of the rows and rows of white headstones. Traditionally, these marble markers are inscribed simply, with the name, rank, military branch, dates of birth and death, and the war or country in which the person served.

Not any more.

For the first time in history, most of the gravestones for troops killed in Iraq or Afghanistan have been inscribed with the advertising slogans – "Operation Enduring Freedom," "Operation Iraqi Freedom" – the Pentagon dreamed up to promote the wars. Not only that, but families who have received headstones from the government for burials outside of Arlington have found these slogans inscribed as well.

In theory, families are being told they have the right to have the motto engraved. But it seems to be like the phone company – you have to request not have the engraving, just as you have to request an unlisted number. As a result, a number of families have experienced a nasty surprise. According to an AP account, Nadia and Robert McCaffrey, whose son Patrick was killed in Iraq, discovered "Operation Iraqi Freedom" inscribed upon his government-supplied headstone without their approval. "In one way, I feel it's taking advantage to a small degree," McCaffrey said. "Patrick did not want to be there, that is a definite fact." Even the stoneworker who supplies markers to Arlington and other national cemeteries is uncomfortable with the practice, saying "It just seems a little brazen that that's put on stones. It seems like it might be connected to politics." Ya think?

Why, you may ask, does it matter? Why get into a huff about this?

It’s about respect.

Once upon a time – prior to the 1980s – the Pentagon devoted its efforts to fighting wars, rather than selling them. Okay, that’s an oversimplification: the military has always put some effort into public relations. After all, they hired Frank Capra to make the “Why We Fight” series of films during World War II. But they didn’t come up with the name World War II. Or the Great War. Or the War of 1812 – a moniker which would certainly not fly today. Not until the late 80s did the Pentagon start creating operation names designed to generate public support. The 1989 invasion of Panama represented their first big hit, with “Operation Just Cause.” (Rather than “Operation Overthrow Noriega,” a discarded effort.) According to a publication of the Army War College, this initiated the practice of naming operations "with an eye toward shaping domestic and international perceptions about the activities they describe." Since then, every military effort has had a public “Operation” name, from “Desert Shield” (the precursor to “Desert Storm”) to “Power Geyser” (the largely unknown and possibly unconstitutional protection of George Bush by armed commandos). (Possibly unconstitutional because the Posse Comitatus Act of 1878 prohibits using the armed forces for law enforcement within the United States. Possibly not unconstitutional because the President can waive this law in an emergency, and I’m sure George Bush considers his well-being an emergency.)

I appreciate the need of the Pentagon to sell their largely distasteful product. And I understand the belief that the best way to capture the support of the public is through a catchy and largely untrue slogan. But I believe that at death, all advertising should stop. Just as I would hope that my loved ones would balk at installing a convenience store-style television monitor in my tombstone, the Administration should combat their unseemly desire to promote their war through soldiers who have given their last full measure of devotion.

This, after all, is Arlington. If any place in the country should remain apolitical, it is the home of our war dead. The rows of identical markers are a reminder that death, like war, is egalitarian. (Unless you’re gay, or until the latter half of the 20th century, female or black.) A simple “2005” and “Iraq” would tell enough of the story for any visitor.

To quote Abraham Lincoln once again, “The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract.” It is ironic that to this Administration, which traces its roots back to the Lincoln presidency and which revels in its Christianity, nothing is sacred.

Slow News Week

2005-08-04T23:25:00.000-05:00

Talk about irony. No, really, talk about irony.

Today's issue is called "Slow News Week." My intention was to write about how there's not much to write about. Then I intended to launch into a discussion of stories that haven't gone away -- such as Karl Rove and Valerie Plame and recent Supreme Court rulings and upcoming Supreme Court rulings -- to make the point that because they aren't breaking news, we tend to forget they exist. Until they are breaking news again, by which time it's too late to do anything about them.

There was some discussion early this summer about Mark Felt's motives for becoming Deep Throat. (Was he Deep Throat? Was he the only Deep Throat? Am I Deep Throat?) The point was made that DT helped keep the Watergate break-in on the front page of the Washington Post, for a long time the only paper covering the story. One reason the current Administration gets away with as much as it does is that US journalists are complicit with US audiences in their short attention span. They and we are easily distracted from tales of corruption in the White House by the next shiny thing that comes along. And during slow news weeks, it's important to bring those stories back to the forefront, because they haven't really gone away. People are still dying in Iraq because we were told Saddam Hussein bought uranium from Niger.

So I planned to breeze over recent stories, and then delve into older ones that are still on my mind. Next thing I knew, I was at 3500 words, and I hadn't touched Karl or Valerie or The Supremes. Slow news week indeed.

*****

It had to happen. After a summer of high profile stories, from Cruisapalooza to Robertsmania, August has entered, not with a bang but a whimper. There's a heat wave sweeping the country, but it's at least the third one this summer, and people are tired. The killer sharks have played themselves out. Here in Chicago, there's an investigation into corruption at City Hall. I could write that line any time.

The only Roberts in the news is Julia, who's getting ready to make her Broadway debut. Woo hoo. It's not even a new play, nor a classic, but a 12 week run of Richard ("Take Me Out") Greenberg's 1997 family dramady "Three Days of Rain." It's directed by Joe Mantello, who used to do legitimate work but is now directing a revival of "The Odd Couple" starring Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick. Both of whom should be playing Felix.

Lauren Bacall is the latest celeb to diss Tom Cruise, telling Time that "When you talk about a great actor, you're not talking about Tom Cruise," and "It's inappropriate and vulgar and absolutely unacceptable to use your private life to sell anything commercially." Apparently Bacall has forgotten that much of her early career was fueled by stories about her relationship with Humphrey Bogart. But that selling was done primarily by studio publicists. No one jumped on Hedda Hopper's couch.

Time magazine has given in to this late summer ennui. Last week's cover story, "Eyewitness to Hiroshima," at least featured John Roberts in an insert ("How He Could Change The Supreme Court"). This week? "Special Report: Being 13."

Meanwhile, South Korean scientists have cloned a dog, an Afghan puppy named Snuppy. Officials say the animal appears to be "delicious."

Despite the faux-frantic coverage, there is little doubt that space shuttle Discovery will return home safely. Discovery's crew took time Thursday to remember the astronauts killed in the 2003 Columbia disaster. Then they read excerpts from Richard Greenberg's 1997 family dramady "Three Days of Rain."

*****

I can't even get my knickers in a twist about the recess appointment of John Bolton as US ambassador to the UN. Yeah, that was just this week. First, we all knew it was coming. Second, there is little the US can do to ruin its reputation any further in the international community. Sure, Bolton's a hothead who called for losing the top ten floors of the United Nations building and a petty tyrant who takes revenge on those who disagree with him. But while his predecessor, John Danforth, is fairly moderate (he recently wrote two pieces for the New York Times criticizing the blurred distinction between church and state brought about by some Christian conservatives), he served less than seven months. Danforth replaced John Negroponte, whose prior claim to fame was the part he played in the Iran-Contra Affair while serving as Ambassador to Honduras. (For other activities, Negroponte was later accused of human rights violations by the Honduras Commission on Human Rights.) Negroponte was rewarded by bring named Director of National Intelligence this past February. The worst you can say about Bolton is that he will be ineffective. And since he sees the UN as an ineffective organization, it should be a perfect fit.

Nor do I care much about Bush making a recess appointment. It's nothing new. Bush used this option 105 times before appointing Bolton, primarily in order to appoint judges. One appointment went to Eugene Scalia, son of Fat Tony Scalia, who Bush named Labor Department Solicitor in 2002. Clinton made 140 recess appointments during his two terms, and Ronald Reagan made 243. President Eisenhower made three recess appointments to the Supreme Court: Chief Justice Earl Warren and Associate Justices William Brennan and Potter Stewart. The first recess appointment was made by George Washington, who appointed John Rutledge Chief Justice in 1795. Heck, even "The West Wing" did a show about recess appointments. In any case, Bolton's appointment will only last until the end of 2006, when this two-year session of Congress comes to an end. Then he has to be reconfirmed.

Think of it as a reason to vote in 2006.

*****

The Bolton appointment highlights the growing strain between George Bush and his party. Even that old party regular, Trent Lott, gives it a bad review. Last week, he said he suspected Bush would appoint Bolton, but that, "it's a little bit of a thumbing of the nose at the Senate, which will cause you more problems down the road. We are a coequal branch; he doesn't get to make his choices in a vacuum." For those of you whose teeth itch at the use of "coequal" to mean "equal," Lott's usage goes back to the Federalist Papers, written when he was a mere boy. In that case, though -- and in most "approved" cases -- "coequal" refers to more than two ("The Senate ... will derive its powers from the States, as political and coequal societies" -- James Madison). Lott went on to say that Bolton would be "weakened and temporary" and "could serve what, 17 months, unless he was subsequently confirmed, which I don't see any chance of."

Not what you want to hear from your own party.

Meanwhile, Bill Frist, Trent Lott's replacement as Senate Majority Leader, has broken with the President on stem cell research. In a speech on the Senate floor last Friday, Frist called for an expansion of federal funding for embryonic stem cell research, beyond the 22 lines which are now officially approved. In particular, Frist is in favor of opening up to research the hundreds of thousands of embryos currently in storage in fertility clinics, left over from in vitro fertility treatment. Frist's statement represents a return to the stance he held in 2001, before George Bush's decision to limit federal funding to existing stem cell lines.

Frist's announcement puts him in the odd position of receiving praise from Democrats and rebuke from Republicans. Some Republicans have offered their support, such as Arlen Specter and Nancy Reagan. Specter, as you probably know, is undergoing treatment for cancer, and Reagan, of course, was widowed by Alzheimer's disease. It is easy to support a cure once you have become a victim of the disease. In a similar vein, those on the far right call for harsh jail terms for all drug abusers, yet see Rush Limbaugh's OxyContin addiction as a personal tragedy. The President has not evidenced any ill will toward Frist, reportedly telling him "You've got to vote your conscience," and seeming jocular during an appearance by the two men at a bill-signing ceremony later in the day. At the same time, Bush is expected to veto any bill which opens up new stem cell research. The majority of the responses fell along party lines, with Democrats such as Harry Reid ("a large step has been taken by the majority leader today ... and I admire the majority leader for doing it"), Ted Kennedy ("I applaud his courage in putting patients over politics.") and Dianne Feinstein ("My heart jumped a beat when I heard Senator Frist's speech this morning.") speaking in favor of Frist, while Republicans offered criticism ranging from mild (Tom Delay: "Senator Frist is a good man, he's simply advocating a bad policy.") to severe ("He cannot be pro-life and pro-embryonic stem cell funding. Nor can he turn around and expect widespread endorsement from the pro-life community if he should decide to run for president in 2008." --Patrick Mahoney, Christian Defense Coalition).

Bill Kristol and Eric Cohen take the "slippery slope" approach in a slightly mad, and somewhat maddening editorial in The Weekly Standard titled "Frist's Stem Cell Capitulation." According to Cohen and Kristol, allowing federal funding of research on embryonic "spares" opens the door to "the mass creation of genetically tailored embryonic stem cells, produced by creating and destroying cloned human embryos" and "harvesting human fetuses in animal wombs." They go so far as to invoke "Brave New World." This approach is particularly odd because the men open their article by saying that federal funds for stem cell research are unnecessary because there is plenty of state and private money available. If you're afraid of the brave new world ("no limits on human cloning, no limits on fetal farming, no limits on the creation of man-animal hybrids"), banning, not limiting funding, should be your concern.

*****

So why has Frist chosen to take this controversial stand? Hard to say, though I'm sure the pundits have. Frist wants to be president, and despite warnings by the Christian Defense Coalition and others ("Treating living human embryos as mere fodder for experimentation crosses a vital ethical line and contravenes the sanctity of human life." -- David Stevens, Executive Director of the Christian Medical Association), he apparently sees this as the best way to go about it. As great as the fear of the Christian theocracy is on the left, I believe it's even greater on the right. For every pragmatist like Karl Rove, who believes in winning at any cost, or true believers like Representative Mike Pence of Indiana ("This will result in millions of Americans realizing we have a Republican majority in Congress but we don't have a pro-life majority in Congress."), there are a hundred rational Republicans who feel squeamish about having to support the crazy party. I'm not saying the bubble is about to burst on the Religious Right, much as I wish it would. But it's a mere three months since Frist participated in "Stopping the Filibuster Against People of Faith," and now he's taking a stand which has former supporters in a tizzy. He knows something I don't.

At the same time, he has to salvage some credibility. If you know anything about Bill Frist, you know that he's a doctor -- a transplant surgeon, to be exact. (His family is also involved in a host of insurance scams, which I've mentioned before.) George Bush likes to introduce him as Doctor Bill Frist. It's more respectable than Senator, I suppose. Yet increasingly, Frist has been forced by his party affiliation to be on the wrong side of medical issues. He said last March that Terri Schiavo was "not somebody in a persistent vegetative state," based on what he had seen and read. After her autopsy was released, he made a round of all the morning news shows, saying his statement was not meant as a diagnosis. As it turns out, his opinion was based on the edited video footage we all saw, plus a conversation with one neurologist. But that was enough for him to lead a Senate fight over one person's future. (I should be so lucky.) (Or not.) At least he admitted he was wrong about Schiavo, saying after the autopsy, "She had devastating brain damage, and with that, the chapter's closed." This is better than his record on AIDS. Last December, during an appearance on "This Week with George Stephanopoulos," he was questioned about federally funded abstinence programs which were teaching false information. When asked if HIV could be transmitted through sweat and tears, as these federally funded educational materials stated, Frist's first response was "I don't know." Granted, this is not his field of specialty, but even I know the answer to that one. When asked again ("you believe that tears and sweat might be able to transmit AIDS?"), his response was "Yeah, no, I can tell you that HIV is not very transmissible as an element like, compared to smallpox, compared to the flu." Later in the segment, Stephanopoulos returned to the question ("Do you or do you not believe that tears and sweat can transmit HIV?"). Frist's reply was an unqualified "It would be very hard for tears and sweat, I mean, you can get virus in tears and sweat but in terms of the degree of infecting somebody, it would be very hard." By the way, according to the Centers for Disease Control, "Contact with saliva, tears, or sweat has never been shown to result in transmission of HIV." All Frist had to say was "No." "No, I'm sorry, those materials are incorrect, tears and sweat do not transmit HIV." As a doctor, that was his responsibility. As a politician, his duty was to support the party. He chose poorly.

(I do not suggest that a Democrat politician would necessarily have chosen wisely. But Frist is our subject here.)

All this talk of stem cell research makes me nostalgic for August 2001, when this was supposed to be the defining issue of the Bush presidency. Rather than fear. Which is different than terror.

*****

So how long before Frist comes out in favor of Intelligent Design?

For those of you who have not been paying attention, intelligent design is the new name for creationism. It's all the rage. It sounds scientific -- it even has "design" in the name! Plus "intelligent," so it can't be as stupid as it sounds. Intelligent Design. It's like something Lexus would push.

But instead it's just God, in new clothes. Like Carrie Donovan in those Old Navy ads.

George Bush, who is proof positive that men and monkeys have a common ancestor (No, not Barbara. Even older.), has come out in favor of teaching schoolchildren intelligent design along with evolution. And, though unsaid, eventually in place of it. "Both sides ought to be properly taught," according to Bush, "so people can understand what the debate is about." To my knowledge, this is the first time Bush has ever acknowledged that an issue might have more than one side.

The main problem with intelligent design -- beyond the fact that if you don't believe in Judeo-Christian mythology, you're screwed -- is that it's not scientific. The basis of the scientific method is observation, followed by hypothesis, or an idea of what you think is going on. Hypotheses are then tested through experimentation. Hypotheses which predict results which can be verified through further experimentation become theories. Given this description, I have no problem with people who refer to evolution as an hypothesis rather than a theory, because it hasn't necessarily been proved. Intelligent design isn't even an hypothesis, because it can't be tested. It is, as one professor noted, "creationism in a cheap tuxedo."

The other problem with intelligent design is that in order to make it make sense, you have to take everything we know and twist it in order to fit the program. Here's an example. Let's say God created humankind (we'll skip Adam and Eve for now) in its modern, Homo sapiens form. We have not undergone evolution. That means God also created the fossilized remains of a whole slew of protohumans, and buried them in the earth. Like the tripods in "War of the Worlds." In His tricksy, Godlike way, He created the earth in layers which suggest various eons in time, and not only buried remains, but infused certain carbon atoms with a varying number of neutrons, corresponding to how deep they were buried, so that we could test them through carbon-14 dating and get a false sense of how old they were. To take it a step further, He did the same thing with literally billions of other fossilized remains, in order to create a fairly complete but completely false fossil record of life on Earth. Cool! And this isn't even getting into the distinction between "young Earth" and "old Earth" followers of intelligent design: "young Earthers" believing that everything in Genesis is literally true, and that a day is a day, and the Earth is a little more than 6,000 years old, and "old Earthers" believing that a "day" in Genesis might cover millions of years.

In the words of Anna Russell, I'm not making this up.

I've done some reading on intelligent design, and once you get past the simple creation myth of Genesis (make that myths -- there are two, and they conflict), it gets incredibly complex. Perhaps George Bush believes school children can follow this. I'm not so sure. Evolution is easier, and it makes more sense.

*****

There's a simple example which compares evolution and intelligent design. And it has the added advantage of being true.

Once upon a time, people believed that the Earth was the center of the universe. The Sun and Moon and planets revolved around the Earth, and far away was the sphere of fixed stars, which revolved as a whole. And everybody was happy. Then people -- let's call them scientists -- started observing the movement of the planets. And they saw strange things. For example, sometimes some of the planets seemed to move backwards. And none of the planets moved at a completely steady rate. And so they changed their view of the universe. They didn't come to the belief that the Earth and planets revolved around the Sun -- that was hundreds of years away. Instead, they invented things called epicycles. These were little orbits on top of the regular orbits of the planets, which reconciled their movement with observation. The more observation, the more epicycles were required, until models of the universe requires wheels within wheels within wheels.

Then Copernicus came along, and said, "Duh. If you put the Sun at the center and have the Earth and the planets revolve around that (while having the Moon revolve around the Earth), it simplifies the whole magilla." Well, Copernicus probably didn't come up with this completely on his own, and certainly didn't say "magilla," but it's close enough.

Intelligent design advocates will tell you that theirs is the simpler system. What could be more simple than an Intelligent Designer? To my mind, a designer who creates a universe and then plants myriad clues intended to give His creations mistaken ideas about their universe -- not just in evolution, but in physics, astronomy, chemistry, cosmology and nearly every field you can imagine -- not only that, but clues they won't be able to understand for thousands of years -- to me, such a designer is not intelligent, but obsessive compulsive. You can have Him.

*****

One person who has come out against teaching intelligent design is ... are you sitting down? ... Rick Santorum. That's right, Crazy Rick Santorum.

Crazy Rick is the senator from Pennsylvania who said "If the Supreme Court says that you have a right to consensual sex within your home, then you have the right to bigamy, you have the right to polygamy, you have the right to incest, you have the right to adultery. You have the right to anything." Most newspapers inserted the word (gay) between "consensual" and "sex," but Santorum didn't say it. Maybe he meant it. But Santorum seems to think all privacy is a bad thing. "If you make the case that if you can do whatever you want to do, as long as it's in the privacy of your own home, this 'right to privacy,' then why be surprised that people are doing things that are deviant within their own home? If you say, there is no deviant as long as it's private, as long as it's consensual, then don't be surprised what you get. ... And that leads to a culture that is not one that is nurturing and necessarily healthy." Remember, for Crazy Rick, "deviant" includes voting Democrat.

In recent months, Santorum has blamed liberals for sexual abuse within the Catholics church and feminists for ruining the American family.

Crazy Rick was a bit more even tempered on the issue of intelligent design, but did tell NPR, "I think I would probably tailor that a little more than what the president has suggested. I'm not comfortable with intelligent design being taught in the science classroom."

You just can't count on Republicans to be crazy these days!

*****

On a lighter note, Robert Novak, the columnist who outed Valerie Plame as a covert agent, has been suspended indefinitely from CNN after he swore and walked off the set of "Inside Politics" during a discussion with James Carville. Granted, the curse was "bullshit," which is nothing compared to what Carville generally deserves. And surely Novak's nerves are frayed, what with not being investigated in the Plame probe, having "Crossfire" cancelled from underneath him, and not getting the sweet deal his panelmate Tucker Carlson is getting at MSNBC. Carlson's got a new show called "The Situation with Tucker Carlson," which is short for "What the Hell is the Situation with Tucker Carlson?" In terms of hard news, the show ranks somewhere between "Countdown" and "The Daily Show."

A CNN spokesperson simply said, "We've asked Mr. Novak to take some time off."

Supreme Choice

2005-07-22T06:38:00.000-05:00

I did not watch the President's announcement of his Supreme Court nominee on Tuesday night. I just couldn't do it. On one hand, I felt I owed it to my readers to offer my perception of the event. On the other, I feel I've given this guy too many hours of my life already. I expected a long, drawn-out dog and pony show, with George praising his appointment, and the nominee gushing like a schoolgirl, followed by statements by the right and left about why this person represents the second coming or the devil incarnate. Since I, like most liberals, expected to be annoyed by his choice, the whole thing seemed like a really long infomercial for something I wasn't interested in buying. I could, I reasoned, read the story online at 8:30 and avoid the pain.

Thus, you can imagine my delight when the whole spectacle was over by 8:15. Allowing me to catch a rerun of House on Fox.

So now I'm expected to give my opinion of the guy, and you know what, I can't. Like most Americans, I don't know anything about him. Which seems to be the strategy here. Unlike many on the left, I can't simply oppose him for being conservative. George Bush is king of the conservatives: what did you expect? His stance on Roe -- which, being a man who is not likely to ever have to deal with a pregnancy, is quite frankly not terribly important to me -- seems uncertain at best. On one hand, he has argued against it; on the other, he said in a previous confirmation hearing that he considered it "the settled law of the land." On a third hand, that is because Roe had been affirmed and reaffirmed by the Supreme Court. Once a member of that court, he could do anything.

Which seems to be the point. No one knows what this guy will do. He's only been a federal judge for two years, and has adjudicated a limited number of cases, few of which were controversial. Liberal watchdog groups are seizing on whatever they can find to discredit him, because that's their duty as liberal watchdog groups. I can't imagine that Bush could have nominated a candidate they would find acceptable. There's a good chance John Kerry, had he been elected, would have had a difficult time finding a candidate they would find acceptable who would also have been confirmable.

As a lawyer, John Roberts -- I suppose I should call him by name -- has argued against abortion rights. But he has also made it clear that as a lawyer, he argued his cases, not his opinions. He has worked for two administrations -- Reagan and Bush I -- and Senate Democrats are seeking access to documents from those periods, trying to suss out where the man stands. That is as should be expected. This is less a fight against Roberts than a fight against Bush. But should they gain access -- which is doubtful -- I don't suppose there will be much there for them. The word on Roberts is that he is an excellent attorney, which is to say, essentially soulless. At least as far as his work goes. His job has been to win, not to fight for what's right. He represented NBC in fighting media regulation, but also argued the antitrust suit against Microsoft. Above all, he does not seem to be the rampant social conservative Bush's most extreme supporters might prefer.

"Seem" is the operative word.

Having seen a bit of the man over the past few days, Bush's decision to schedule his debut for prime time -- and then get the hell out of there -- makes sense. Roberts is the kind of guy who, as my friend Harry Ross would put it, "doesn't smell crazy." Which doesn't mean that he isn't crazy, mind you. But he's not a Robert Bork or Fat Tony Scalia, who immediately put you off your lunch. He's youngish and affable with two small (and adopted) children and a seriously washed-out looking wife -- someone who doesn't set off alarm bells. My immediate response to him is not necessarily one of trust, but a measured sigh of relief, considering some of the other candidates under discussion. The question liberals need to ask themselves about Roberts is not, "How bad is he?" but "If he is not approved, how much worse will the next candidate be?" Because like it or not, sooner or later Congress will approve someone Bush sends them. And he ain't sending them Shirley Chisholm. (And not only because she's dead.)

*****

My greatest concern about Roberts -- considering that I know so little about him -- is his age. He's 50. And from what I can see, in pretty good health.

This doesn't make him the youngest candidate to the bench in recent years. That would be Clarence Thomas, who was a stripling of 43 when he ascended. And it shows. Almost immediately, Thomas became a lapdog for Antonin "Fat Tony" Scalia, and has never fully emerged from his shadow. Only in the past few years has he started show signs of independent judgment.

In general, 50 is about par for the court. Three of the eight remaining judges were 50 or 51 when they were appointed, and O'Connor was 51. Rehnquist was 47 when Nixon sent him to the bench. John Paul Stevens was 55 when Gerald Ford appointed him 30 years ago. Clinton's choices, Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Stephen Breyer, were 60 and 55, respectively.

In general, I prefer a 60 year old appointment to a 50 year old. And anything below 50 is criminal. Unless you are me, there's a good chance that by 50 you should have been able to rack up a substantial body of work, and perhaps deserve elevation to a high court. But appointments to the Supreme Court are for life. To my mind, an appointment for life presupposes that you should be dying pretty soon. In recent times, as we have seen, this is not the case. Much has been made of the fact that the current lot of judges have served together since 1994. As long as we keep appointing younguns to the bench, that trend will continue. And I'm not so sure that's a good thing. I like a little conflict in the court -- on the whole, I think it's best for all of us.

And quite frankly, no matter what your opinions, there's a good chance that in 10 years I'm going to find them obsolete. I much prefer you dead.

*****

There's always a chance, of course, that Justice Roberts will surprise us all. Sandra Day O'Conner famously told Ronald Reagan that she found abortion "personally abhorrent." Now abortion rights advocates are keening over her retirement. Arlen Specter, the chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, has said that you can't predict what a nominee will do once they're confirmed. This seems especially true in the case of John Roberts.

Not that Roberts isn't a dyed in the wool conservative. He is. But you can never predict exactly what that means. Of the nine justices on the Court (before O'Conner's retirement), seven were appointed by Republican presidents. Three were appointed by Reagan (Scalia and Anthony Kennedy, in addition to O'Connor) and two by Bush senior (David Souter and Clarence Thomas). Of those, only Scalia and Thomas have proved reliably conservative. Even Thomas is starting to show a drift to the left, miniscule though it may be. When the Court recently overturned sodomy laws in 13 states, Thomas dissented. But he wrote in his dissent that though he didn't believe the Supremes had the right to overturn those laws, the laws were foolish and should have been done away with. This is in opposition to Fat Tony, who wrote "Many Americans do not want persons who openly engage in homosexual conduct as partners in their business, as scoutmasters for their children, as teachers in their children's schools, or as boarders in their home. They view this as protecting themselves and their families from a lifestyle that they believe to be immoral and destructive." Roberts seems more likely to side with Thomas than Scalia on this one.

Souter has proved a big disappointment to the right. GBI said he would be "committed to interpreting, not making the law." Sounds familiar. Since then, he has proved to be one of those activist judges GBII hates, backing gay rights, abortion rights and affirmative action and voting against the death penalty for juvenile offenders. Kennedy, while not as liberal as Souter, has become increasingly moderate, voting in favor of abortion rights (with O'Connor and Souter) and against prayer at public school graduations. Kennedy even wrote the decision that struck down sodomy laws. In doing so, he rejected Scalia's "originalist" school of constitutional interpretation, which focuses on the intent of the framers. In his opinion, Kennedy wrote that "later generations can see that laws once thought necessary and proper in fact serve only to oppress."

It is too early to predict how Roberts' decisions may turn out should he be confirmed. But for now he seems more reasonable than most of Bush's cronies, and that will have to do.

Was It Good For You?

2005-07-08T08:32:00.000-05:00

Bad sex has been on my mind of late. I'm not exactly sure why. It's not because I've been having a lot of bad sex, because frankly, I haven't been having that much sex. Perhaps it's because I have friends who have been having even less sex than me, and I want to set their minds at ease. Or perhaps it's because so much of the media revolves around sex, and that, as you'd suspect, is part of the problem.

In my experience, most sex is bad for three reasons. I'm even willing to say that most sex is bad. This is where everyone gets on their high horse and wants to take me to task. Not realizing that I've been taken to task so often that everything about it is familiar to me. "Just because you have bad sex they cry," underscoring the "you," as if I am some freak of nature who doesn't deserve better sex, "that doesn't mean everybody has bad sex." I'll grant you that. I will also grant you that much bad sex starts off as good sex, and sometimes it declines so slowly that you don't notice it. The brakes on your car don't usually go out all at once, but if you avoid proper maintenance, they may eventually fail. And after a few years, mechanical repetitive humping may suit your needs more than an all out flashdance. But that doesn't make it good.

And this takes us to the first category: the Person.

I am enough of a romantic to recognize that the most important element in Good Sex is your partner. In order to have an enjoyable sexual experience, you need to be attracted to the other person. Which doesn't mean they need to be attractive. This is the first place where people go astray. All too often, our choice of a mate is influenced not just by what we want, but by what our friends (family, social group) will think. Granted, if you're considering matrimony, that Albanian dwarf may raise a few eyebrows. But if you're just in the market for some hardcore wrestling, go for it.

Movies misrepresent this choice. In the movies, the suspect lover is a young, beautiful movie star who is from the wrong side of the tracks (poor-but-honest, overcoming-his-demons). In real life, it's the programmer from HR with the killer smile that no one seems to appreciate except you. But rather than thinking your friends must be crazy, you assume that you are. So instead you date the MBA consultant who hammers you like a tackling dummy.

In other cases, singles find that necessity is the mother of attraction. It's last call, the bar is closing, and rather than pick up an Entenmann's Raspberry Twist at the White Hen, you go home with the guy with too much cologne and the sweaty palms. If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with. Except that no one would call this love, and the coffee cake is much better in bed.

For those people lucky enough to find someone who turns them on consistently, marriage seems to be the solution. But that doesn't always guarantee success. After a few years, a few fights, or even a few loads of laundry, attraction can fade. Even under the best of circumstances, the spark isn't there all the time. And there's always the possibility that your partner is more attracted to you than you are to them. That's the reason you snatched 'em up to begin with! Self-esteem trumped lust, and now you're living with a stalker.

The flip side of this problem – and one more daunting for men than women – is that of being too attracted to your partner. They say that the brain is the biggest sex organ – though having seen Body Worlds down at the Museum of Science and Industry, I have my doubts – but the body is a trickster. And there are circumstances under which the body decides to fire the cannon when the mind has barely finished loading. Need I say more?

Which brings us to the second element of bad sex: Time.

As Einstein told us, time is relative. What seems like forever to you is a mere twinkling of an eye to your partner. And what a difference that twinkle makes.

Good sex takes time. How much time depends on everyone involved. Sure, there are days when all you want is a quick ride on the Wild Mouse. But in general, a satisfying sexual experience requires setup, delivery, and cool down with more than a passing nod to each stage.

And there, as they say, is the rub. Because when I'm halfway through stage one, you may be ready and anxious to proceed to stage two. Most men see stage two as the main event, but if women don't get enough stage one, stage two is like the Batman ride: a lot of jostling around without much in the way of thrills. And stage three is generally overlooked in favor of s shower or nap.

When love is new, it's easy to give a lot of attention to your partner. You're still exploring every nook and cranny, and seeing what makes them squeal. Do you like this? Do you not like this? Do you need a cookie? But after a few times through the fun house, you know when the skeletons are going to jump out. You develop adult ADD. You're in the middle of a half nelson with another naked human being, and all you can think about is who's on Conan. It's even worse when you find yourself locked in sweaty embrace with a partner who, for whatever reasons, simply doesn't hump your camel. Who has the time for that sort of thing? All you can this is, "Finish already so I can fall asleep and/or go home."

Especially in the absence of the third leg of our triumvirate: Technique

The sad truth is, most people aren't very good at it. And by "it," I mean, of course, it.

On one hand, you can't completely blame them. They're functioning on a lot of misinformation and improper training. The only practice they get outside of the actual arena is masturbation. And while that's fine for figuring out what they like, it does their partner little good. On the other hand, a lot of bad technique is due to sheer laziness. A man who spends years working on his backhand often completely ignores his foreplay.

The other culprit here is – as ever – the media. I won't say that people expect too much out of sex, but ... yes. Yes I will. People expect too much out of sex. And by too much, what I mean is: 1) that it happens automatically, 2) that it is immediately fulfilling, and 3) that it is the salve to all their woes.

Third things first: sex cannot solve your problems. Sex can only cause more problems. The only problem sex can solve is not having enough sex. We often hear and/or say that the only thing Person A needs is a good hard fuck. Nothing could be more untrue. If Person A has a good hard fuck, they will still be crazy, they will just have one more thing to be crazy about. And nobody needs that.

Second things second: don't expect so much from biology. Sex can be fun, but no one promised fulfillment. If you are lucky enough to find someone who fulfills all your sexual needs, god bless. Snatch them up and hold on tight, even at the risk of seeming a stalker (see "Person," above). But even then, don't expect them to fulfill all your needs. Just because someone is good in the sack, it doesn't mean they're any good at child care. Or child support, if you get my drift. But in most cases, the first time through is not necessarily the best time through. Everyone has their own schedule of events. See "Time," above.

Finally, good sex is not automatic. No matter what you see on TV, people do not fall into bed and immediately find a rhythm. It takes work. And for this, people turn to the worst source of information. Pornography.

Pornography is entertainment. It is not a manual. Repeat after me. Those letters to Penthouse? Never happened.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against pornography. It is a lovely substitute for sex. Almost as good as Entenmann's Raspberry Twist. But don't use it as a guide to what works in real life. Most porn suffers from both a failure of imagination and too much imagination.

Sex in pornography is formula driven. A sucks B. B sucks A. Maybe a 69. Then comes penetration. Missionary with legs in the air and/or on shoulders. Doggy style. Squat. Ah, ah, ah. DS al Fin. Back to missionary for ejaculation. On stomach, chest/breast or face. Or doggy for ass. Fin.

Don't try this at home. Not unless you want to feel like you're working for Vivid Video. Try to be a little more creative. Or at least improvisational. Much like the Pirate's Code, these are more a set of guidelines.

At the same time, don't assume all your friends and neighbors have slings and dungeons and you have to keep up. Or handcuffs. Or French maid's outfits. Feel free to engage in fantasy, but make sure it's your fantasy, not the editor of Man's Hand's.

Next, don't compare yourself to porn actors. You don't have the equipment. These men and women are professionals – they got the work because of what they're packin'. There's a very small skill set that leads to success in this field, and it's not much use in many others. You can have fun on the links without being Tiger Woods. You don't need to be Jenna Jameson or Tommy Gunn to have fun in the bedroom.

Finally, a word about positions. If you have any experience working in film, you know that the camera has needs of its own. There's a big difference between doing something for the camera and doing it for fun. In order to suit the requirements of picture and lighting, porn actors need to be a combination of gymnast, acrobat and contortionist. That pretzel position is not for pleasure, but for visibility. When you're humpin' some household trim, your main concern is comfort, not camera.

So how does one develop technique, if not learning from professionals? Part of it is instinct. We've continued to propagate the species for millions of years, so we must be doing something right. Clear your mind, grasshopper, and follow your nose. Focus on what you want to do, rather than what you think you should do. Many of us in this country find that very difficult. We are led by the majority and the media. Unless you're sleeping with them, forget it. And many of us are unwilling and/or ashamed to do what we want sexually, for fear of reprimand or ridicule. But unless you try, how will you learn?

Next, pay attention. Learn from your partner(s). They will tell you what works by their response. But that requires you to be aware of their response. It is easy to get lost in our own pleasure, and lose track of the people around us, even when they are right under our nose. Pay attention! As in the traffic safety trope, Stop, Look and Listen.

And if you have questions, ask. If there is one thing that everyone could do to improve their technique, it is to communicate more. If your partner does something you like, praise them. It works for your dog, why not in bed. If they do something you don't like, let them know. A rolled up newspaper is not called for, but a gentle reprimand is not out of order. No one knows what you want unless you tell them, in one way or another. And in the heat of the moment, a grunt can be taken as either encouragement or disparagement. So be specific. The most common complaint couples make is that "s/he should know what I'm feeling." Well s/he doesn't, so tell them. For the betterment of the universe, we all have a responsibility to train our partners.

Finally, the best way to improve your technique is the same as the best way to get to Carnegie Hall. Practice, practice, practice. It may not make perfect, but it makes better.

And better is better than bad.

Moo

2005-07-01T01:17:00.000-05:00

A little mad cow disease is not enough to dampen the appetite of the American consumer. Unlike the first case of mad cow reported in the US – a dairy cow in Washington that had been born in Canada – the latest bovine encephalopath was a beef cow born and raised in Texas. Where it lived for the past 12 years. In a herd of other cattle. And where it gave birth. Several times.

This cow was brought, near death, to a Champion Pet Foods plant in Waco, Texas. It died before it could be slaughtered – last November! The president of Champion was quick to assure the public that, "No part of the cow entered the pet food chain." As for other cows from the same farm which have been butchered over the past 7 months ... well, here's hopin'. This cow ended up at the pet food plant because it was too sick to walk. Seemingly healthy cows from the ranch would be sold for human consumption.

Not that anyone cares. Although Taiwan has imposed a ban on American beef, domestic beef sales and futures prices have remained relatively steady. And Rick Perry, the Governor of Texas, issued a statement assuring citizens that they could trust his beef. "I, for one," he said, "will continue to eat red meat, and intend to do so later tonight with complete confidence." He later issued a revised statement that dropped the reference to his dinner plans.

Happy 4th of July. Enjoy your burgers!

Not Every Woman

2005-06-29T00:18:00.000-05:00

Having run out of white women in peril, the media has now turned its attention to its favorite black woman. I refer, of course, to l'affaire d'Oprah.

For those of you who missed this story, the trouble begins, as is so often the case, in France. Rushing to a dinner engagement with her close personal friend Tina Turner, la Winfrey decided to stop in at Hermès and purchase a watch for the Buddhist chanteuse. In early recounts, the store had just closed; a revised version places the event at 15 minutes past closing. In any case, Oprah was denied entry. Conflict ensued. Once again, accounts differ. The New York Post, that bastion of journalistic rectitude, reported sales personnel didn't recognize Oprah and refused to let her in because the store had been "having a problem with North Africans." Both Harpo and Hermès have refuted that story, with a Winfrey mouthpiece declaring that the staff identified Oprah, and that other shoppers were in the store at the time. Hermès says the megastar was barred because the store was setting up for a media event at the time, and the "shoppers" were actually staff.

Whatever the truth is, Oprah was humiliated. Gayle King, Oprah best sycophant, told Entertainment Tonight that Oprah considers it "one of the most humiliating moments of her life." Michelle McIntyre of Harpo Productions called the event as Oprah's "Crash moment," referencing the recent film about racism in LA. Oprah intends to devote an episode of her show to the incident when it returns from its summer hiatus.

Don't get me started.

I spent many years working in the service sector. In those years, I had many experiences with would-be customers who came by after we closed, begging to be let in. Sometimes, if we were still busy, we would let them in. Other times, we would not. On occasion, a manager would make the call and seat a diner after we closed. In all cases, we hated the latecomer.

Here's an unpleasant but simple truth: If you show up 15 minutes before we close, we hate you. If you show up 15 minutes after we close, we wish you would die. On the spot.

Unknown to shoppers and diners, service personnel have lives outside of work. They have not dedicated their life to service, like some upstairs maid of the 19th century. I have been forced to remind customers, "I'm your server, not your servant." How much do you hate it when your boss drops a new project on your desk at 4:30? That's how much we hate you when you show up 15 minutes before we close. Imagine how much we hate you when you show up 15 minutes afterwards.

Oprah is not the only one playing this incident as an example of racism. Across the Web, Oprah supporters are shocked -- shocked! -- by how badly she was treated. Bruce Haynes, a sociologist from UC, Davis, says, "The presumption in America is that if you have the wealth, you'll get equality -- but where's Oprah's equality?" The flaw in this thinking is that Oprah was not expecting equality. Equal treatment supposes that when a place of business is closed, customers are no longer allowed in. I am not allowed in, you are not allowed in, Oprah is not allowed in. Oprah does not want to be treated equally; she wants to be treated specially. As a celebrity, she feels that is her right. Dr. King, I fear, would disagree. He might agree that a black celebrity should be treated the same as a white celebrity, but in general, I think he would prefer that white and black celebrities be treated no better than the common man. And, conversely, that ordinary people be given the same courtesy and respect that are granted to celebrities.

Granted, Hermès doesn't have a lot of experience in dealing with the common man. This century old Paris boutique is known for its $300 scarves and $6000 purses. Its staff is used to dealing with the well known, if not necessarily well-bred, since they are the few who can afford its wares. Oprah is a regular shopper, and has plugged the stores products in the past, such as the $135 teacup and saucer featured on her web site. Most of the people rushing to Oprah's defense couldn't afford to use the restroom there.

Which makes the racism that much more appalling. Harriette Cole, the author of a book on black etiquette, says the incident "proves how deeply ingrained in global culture racism is. There is the assumption that a black person will do you harm, and/or the assumption that a black person has no place in a luxury establishment, cannot afford to buy the luxury item." Except that, according to Oprah herself, the staff recognized her. In other words, they knew that she could afford to shop there and still refused to let her in. Which implies that they didn't let her in, not because she was black, but because she was Oprah. They don't like her. The nouveau riche Américain.

Now that's humiliating.

Indeed, "Oprah describes it herself as one of the most humiliating moments of her life."

This is astonishing. More humiliating than her childhood rape and abuse? More humiliating than a teen pregnancy that ended in stillbirth? Worse than the endless litany of humiliations that must have been heaped upon an overweight, unattractive black girl from the south, trying to carve out a career in broadcast journalism? Someone has forgotten her roots.

Which is, indeed, at the root of this story. The character which Oprah has created for herself should be siding with the Hermès salesperson, whether she's confronting the self-righteous celebrity who feels she should be allowed in after hours, or the officious manager who steadfastly sticks to store policy. Instead, Oprah has chosen to paint herself as the wronged party. And that's just ... wrong.

War Torn

2005-06-24T09:00:00.000-05:00

The Steven Spielberg version of War of the Worlds opens next Wednesday, and I, unlike millions of Americans, have no interest in seeing it. How can that be? Conventional wisdom asserts that it will be a blockbuster. Steven Spielberg. Tom Cruise. Science fiction. What's not to love?

Steven Spielberg. Tom Cruise. Science fiction. If you recall, the last time these three elements joined forces, they produced Minority Report, one of the most ludicrous science fiction epics in recent memory. After A.I., that is. But I get ahead of myself.

First things first. My disinterest in this movie has nothing to do with the George Pal version of 1953. Granted, Hollywood is once again showing its lack of imagination by providing a summer of reruns (Willy Wonka, Dukes of Hazzard, The Longest Yard). And I have a soft spot in my heart for the original film version. But that has more to do with who I was when I saw it than its inherent merits. It's been years since I've seen the film, and imagine it may be the worse for wear. (Though I must say that even today, the George Pal Time Machine is far superior to the 2002 Guy Pearce/Jeremy "Anything for a Buck" Irons version.)

An adaptation is an adaptation. At the heart of adaptation is re-imagining a piece for your own time. Welles (Orson, that is) adapted the novel in 1938, there was a TV series in 1988, and two other films versions (one British, one straight to video starring C. Thomas Howell – yikes) are on the horizon. Graphic novel fans may be interested to learn that Dark Horse comics has just started a serialized adaptation on their online site. Though one version may be superior to another, being first doesn't necessarily mean you're best. (Heck, The Wizard of Oz was adapted for the screen four times before the 1939 version.) While the George Pal version is a "classic" in its own right, it isn't untouchable in the way such films as Casablanca or Gone With the Wind (also adaptations) seem to be.

Nor am I avoiding the movie because of Tom Cruise. Although that's certainly a good reason to do so. Cruise's recent exploits prove the maxim that actors are like children (not cattle, Hitch): they should be see in their movies and neither seen nor heard in real life. You either know what Tom Cruise has been up to lately or you don't care. I don't care – I don't watch Oprah or Access Hollywood, I don't read the tabloids or celebrity weeklies – but I still know. There's his latest Scientology rant, saying people should fight depression with vitamins instead of therapy and medication, there's the whole Katie Holmes debacle, there are the lawsuits – the latest against a British comic who squirted water in his face and who Tom had arrested for assault. In a way, his WotW role is perfectly suited to Cruise: he plays a divorced father who thinks of no one but himself. But whereas his onscreen alter ego has an alien invasion to teach him the meaning of life, Cruise remains unharnessed.

That little bit of synopsis may give you a hint of why this movie gives me the willies. Yep, it's Spielberg! Here's a guy who, in making a movie about aliens attacking the planet, decides the interesting story is about a guy learning to become a good father. The sci-fi flicks of the 1950s always featured a damsel in distress. Spielberg sticks with the tradition, but makes her 10 years old. I can understand the philosophy that says that an alien invasion is too large a story to tell, and that in order to have a human connection, you should focus on one man and his endangered family. I saw that movie. It's called Signs.

Not so fast, Grasshopper. In an interview at the WotW site, Spielberg tells us that the movie is really about the refugee experience. In making this film, he tells us, he looked to the Eastern European experience. Because although after 9/11, Americans know what it's liked to be attacked (Pearl Harbor taught us nothing!), they've never been refugees. In this film, the characters have that experience. So it's Schindler's List. With aliens instead of Nazis. And no list. I am put in mind of what Jon Stewart recently said of those who compare others to Hitler: "It demeans them. It demeans you. And it demeans Hitler."

In truth, it matters little what this movie is "really" about. A movie can be about anything. My personal prejudice is against a giant bug movie that's really about fathers and children, but I enjoyed Signs. My concern about this flick is that it will be "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Which makes Steven Spielberg the idiot telling the tale.

*****

Yes, I'm the guy who doesn't like Steven Spielberg. You knew I was out there. Most of my friends already know this about me. The truth is, I believe most of you don't like Steven Spielberg either. At least not his movies.

It's hard to have your dislike for Spielberg taken seriously. Especially if you're me, a known anti-populist. (Odd, for someone so into popular culture.) Folks assume you're taking this opinion just because he's popular. And successful.

Not the case. Nor have I always felt this contempt for Steven Spielberg. Jaws? Terrific. Funny, suspenseful, scary. "You're gonna need a bigger boat." Raiders of the Lost Ark? As perfect a movie as you get. Close Encounters of the Third Kind? Wonderful. Smart, well-paced, nicely structured, good payoff. Until the Special Edition came along, and tossed the ending down the toilet. Also, nearly 30 years old.

Since Duel brought him popular attention in 1971, Steven Spielberg has directed 23 major films (not including War of the Worlds). I've liked 7. I doubt you've liked many more. The first four – Duel and the other three mentioned above – came within a 10 year period. Very encouraging. The other films of that period are The Sugarland Express, which I haven't seen and will believe is good if you convince me, and 1941, which I have and won't.

1982 saw the release of the movie that brought about my split with the American public: E.T. Lord, I hated that movie. I know you loved it, especially if you saw it when you were a kid, but I was bored and just a wee bit nauseous. There are a handful of decent laughs (Drew Barrymore finds E.T. in the closet, everybody screams), but I found the basic premise of "Alien scientist becomes family pet" a little humiliating. You demean yourself and you demean the dog.

Even if you liked E.T. (I know, it's your favorite move ever), 1983 ushered in a ten year run of irredeemable trash:

Twilight Zone: The Movie. Spielberg directs the segment where the old folks become kids. Sentimental, nothing happens.

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Kate Capshaw + Short Round = Crap.

The Color Purple. Also known as The Colored People. Walt Disney presents rape and incest. All you need to know about this movie is its advertising tagline: "It's about life. It's about love. It's about us." Are ya feeling nauseous yet? Everyone bitches about how this movie was overlooked at the Oscars (11 nominations, no wins). All I will concede is that the movie that won Best Picture that year, Out of Africa, is just as horrible.

Empire of the Sun. Didn't see this, but heard it was good. If nothing else, it introduced us to Christian Bale.

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. One good line: "He chose poorly." Not as bad as the Kate Capshaw movie, for what it's worth. Sean Connery is wasted. I recently watched all three movies again on DVD, and the last two are as bad as you remember.

Always. You didn't even see this movie, did you? I did. In a movie theater. Horrible. This is a remake of a 1940's war film, and Brad Johnson, who plays the love interest, makes Van Johnson, in the original, look good. It's that bad.

Hook. This movie makes you hate Peter Pan.

Jurassic Park, 1993. It's 10 years since E.T. and people are wondering if Spielberg is ever going to make a good movie again. That is, if they're honest with themselves and admit to being bored and/or offended by The Color Purple (I bet you didn't even see that movie, and yet you defend it) and HATING the Indiana Jones sequels. So here comes Jurassic Park, and you know what it shows us? Spielberg loves special effects and doesn't give a squat about telling a decent story. The book is a potboiler, bit fascinating in that Michael Crichton Popular Science way. Spielberg turns the villain into a cuddly grandfather, tosses in a couple of suspenseful scenes, and mostly hangs out with the special effects guys. (Frankly, this is what I'm expecting from War of the Worlds.) Wasted opportunity. Sure, the dinos looked great and the raptors were cool and the scene in the kitchen is scary. Anything else? My secret shame is that I actually kind of liked the sequel, The Lost World. (#5 if you're counting.) Sure, it's basically the same movie, but with a T-Rex running around in Los Angeles and eating dogs. Much better.

And this brings us to Schindler's List, the movie that worked. Why? Hard to say. I mean, Spielberg isn't a complete hack – he's no George Lucas – and he has made good movies in the (distant) past. Here, he's blessed with great source material (Thomas Keneally's book), a linear plot, a great cast and a natural hate of Nazis. It probably helps that he's got a new cinematographer who actually cares about story. Sure, he still has to throw in the little girl in the red coat (what is this, Don't Look Now?), but by and large it's straightforward. It's too serious to be sentimental, and that's a huge help. The sixth Spielberg film I enjoy.

Then comes Amistad. You didn't see this movie. When Hotel Rwanda came out last year, I was a little afraid to see it. I thought it would be "good for me," providing some much needed historical perspective on series of events with which I should be more familiar. I was not expecting it to be enjoyable. I was astonished by the life in the movie, the wonderful performances, the emotional depth. Amistad is the movie I was afraid Hotel Rwanda would be. It's a movie only a liberal could love.

Saving Private Ryan. This is the other movie that everyone but me likes. Tell me: do you remember anything after the first 20 minutes? The movie opens with the invasion of Normandy, and it's a stunner. Things are blowing up, people are running around and dying, no one – including the audience – knows what's going on. Very effective, very chilling. This seems to be what the rest of War of the Worlds is going to be – hand held camera, mass confusion, alien invasion is no fun. Apparently, two of the Ryan boys are killed during the invasion – I didn't remember that from the movie, but read it on IMDb – so off Tom Hanks and his cannon fodder go to rescue Matt Damon. And then … ? I remember nothing. One scene about Tom Hanks' hands shaking. A really sappy ending. (Par for the Spielberg.) This movie made no impression on me.

Then come Spielberg's most recent forays into science fiction, and if these don't scare you off War of the Worlds, nothing will. AI: Artificial Intelligence and Minority Report. AI is like 1941: the less said the better. This movie didn't have to be as horrible as it was. Inside its bloated 145 minutes is a 90 minute movie struggling to come out. But in order to work, it needed a director who had a greater contempt for people. Someone like Stanley Kubrick, who originally developed the material. Spielberg tries to find someone to root for, and you know what? There isn't anyone.

Minority Report is a mess from beginning to end. Full of plot holes, laughable ending (I literally laughed. Out loud. In the movie theater.), two good scenes. The first is the scene with Lois Smith, the scientist who tells Tom Cruise about the minority report. She knows she's in a stinker, and she plays the scene completely over the top. The other is the scene with Samantha Morton, when they're on the run and she uses her precog abilities to tell him what to do ("grab an umbrella") to avoid detection. The rest of the movie is just The Fugitive dressed in some fancy sci-fi duds. Or dowdy, since it's all shot through some blue filter that's supposed to make it seem … I don't know what. The only bright spot is seeing the death of Mike Binder, the guy responsible for HBO's The Mind of the Married Man.

After Ryan, Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks had a little romance and made two more movies together. One of them I liked. Not The Terminal. In every interview about The Terminal, you know what Spielberg talked about? The set. It shows. No, I kind of liked Catch Me If You Can. It's a complete trifle, and Tom Hanks does an accent that's based on no human language ever spoken, but that's okay. This is the last of the Steven Spielberg movies I like.

So that's my 7. Even if I give you E.T. and Saving Private Ryan, we're still only up to 9 out of 23. Just over 1 out of 3. 4 in the past 20 years. And that includes Catch Me If You Can and The Lost World, which I will bet are not on your list of favorite Spielberg films. If you struggle, maybe you can up your list to an even dozen. Half of his output. I guess that's acceptable. But not enough to earn my trust.

2005-06-24T08:30:00.000-05:00

The Brits disagree with me, of course.

A recent poll in Empire magazine ranked Spielberg as the greatest director of all time. The runners-up in the top ten include (in order) Alfred Hitchcock, Martin Scorsese, Stanley Kubrick, Ridley Scott, Akira Kurosawa, Peter Jackson, Quentin Tarantino, Orson Welles and Woody Allen. I find it difficult to believe that voters who would list Peter Jackson and Quentin Tarantino as the 7th and 8th greatest directors ever had even seen a film by Akira Kurosawa. I assume Empire's readership skews fairly young. I find the inclusion of Tarantino particularly amusing, considering that he’s directed a total of four films (five if you count Kill Bill as two). By the by, of the 20 major films Martin Scorsese since 1972's Boxcar Bertha, I’ve liked 11. There are also more (5) that I haven't seen (compared to only 2 for Spielberg), which leaves only 4 that I haven't liked. Probably not coincidentally, on my list of stinkers is his one Tom Cruise flick: The Color of Money.

Shut Up!

2005-06-24T08:10:00.000-05:00

Now that she's appeared with Katie Couric, can we please be done with Jennifer "Runaway Bride" Wilbanks? Are people really interested in this story? And if so, who are they? Why are we giving all this attention to someone who gained notoriety simply by acting irresponsibly? The story is over; the only story now is the story of her becoming a celebrity by acting like a foolish child. Enough! The news media is fixated on tales of white women in peril. Jennifer Wilbanks, Natalee Holloway. Hell, you might as well add Michael Jackson. And now Tom Cruise. I'm glad Boy Scout Brennan Hawkins is home safe, but I hope we don't have to keep hearing about it for the next six months. If he was 18 and female, he'd be on the cover of People.

*****

Oh Jeez

I don't have time or space to write about this, but in checking on Brennan Hawkins' name, I read an article about the Supreme Court expanding the power of "eminent domain." Once invoked to claim land necessary to build roads and military bases, and later expanded to include urban renewal, the latest ruling allows local governments to seize your property to put up a shopping mall. This is what we don't hear about because we're reading about Jennifer Wilbanks.

615 Grams

2005-06-16T09:16:00.000-05:00

The Jackson trial ended just in time for Terry Schiavo's triumphant return to the news.

The results of Schiavo's autopsy were revealed on Wednesday. For those of you that missed the story – and how could you? – the report found that Schiavo had severe and irreversible brain damage. By the time she died, her brain had shrunk to half its normal size. In fact, the fluid in her skull weighed more than her brain. Remember Karen Ann Quinlan? For you younguns out there, Karen Ann was the original poster child for the right to death. When she finally died in 1985 – nearly 10 years after they "pulled the plug" – her brain weighed 35% more than Schiavo's. The St. Petersburg Times summed it up with the line, "She would never have recovered."

Not that the Schindler's – Terri's birth family – are buying that bullshit. They have lived too long in the limelight to be swayed by simple scientific evidence. Her parents maintain that Terri recognized them and tried to speak with them. Presented with the evidence that she was most likely blind by the time she died – and indeed for some years before – they took it as proof that Terri was not only conscious, but somehow super-conscious, because she knew when they came into the room even without sight. They are threatening some unspecified legal action, but since that has become their reflex reaction to every bit of news that has ever been presented to them, the response is no surprise.

The Schindler's are even more upset that there's no evidence that Michael Schiavo, Terri's husband, tried to kill her, either before or after she went into the hospital. The medical examiner – who reviewed reports dating back to her initial collapse in 1990 in addition to performing the autopsy – could find no evidence that Schiavo strangled his wife, as her parents have asserted. Nor was there any evidence that she was doped up in the hospital in order to speed her end. The toxicology report found nothing in her system but acetaminophen; i.e. Tylenol. The report also found conclusively that she could not swallow, and that any attempts to feed her by mouth would have been harmful. So much for the guy who tried to bust into the hospital with a glass of water during her final days.

Terri's family has taken a cue from the war on Iraq, and is now revising their rationale for having wanted to keep Terri alive. Back in March, the family was saying that with proper therapy, Terri could recover. Now her brother Bobby is telling the media, "We knew all along that Terri was profoundly brain damaged." As a side note, this is the first time that anyone in the family has called her brain damaged. Their lawyer still refers to her as "brain injured." Bobby goes on, "We simply wanted to bring her home and care for her. It all goes back to this quality of life." Quality of life, eh. The most optimistic reports on Terri's condition say that she had the brain function of a six to ten week old infant. If I am ever reduced to the brain function of a six to ten week old infant, please put the pillow over my face.

David Gibbs, the lawyer for the Schindler family, made a point of Schiavo's overall health, as revealed by the autopsy. The M.E. said she could have lived another decade had her feeding tube not been removed. "It demonstrated she had a strong will to live," Gibbs said. Near the end of her life, my mother, who died of Alzheimer's disease, recovered from a bout of pneumonia that was expected to finish her off. Just because the body survives doesn't mean it has anything to live for.

The autopsy sheds some doubt on Terri's initial collapse being due to an eating disorder. Actually, if you read it, the report specifically says she was probably not bulimic; there's no evidence that she "purged." Indeed, the M.E. said she had "lovely teeth," which counters a claim by the Schindlers that she was not given proper dental care in the hospital, but we'll let that pass, as they have. Although her potassium levels were extremely low at the time of her collapse, the M.E. says that could have been due to the drugs she was given in the attempt to revive her. Because the M.E. could not find a definite underlying cause that led to her collapse in 1990, he listed the "manner" of her death (though not the cause) as "undetermined." (Mind you, he rules out strangling, drug overdose, and nearly everything but Jedi mind trick.) Because of this, the Schindlers are now calling for an investigation into Terri's collapse, blindly seeking one last thing to blame Michael Schiavo for.

I don't completely blame the Schindlers for their madness. If my sister, who seems to be in otherwise good health, were to have a sudden collapse, I would think there was foul play afoot. On the other hand, if I had a bad drug experience when I was in my early 20s and ended up in the hospital, my parents would be looking for someone other than me to blame. And they would be wrong. The more I see of the Schindlers, the more I understand Terri's desire to be free of them. Seeing them in action convinces me that Michael Schiavo knew things about their daughter that they could never imagine, and it's easy for me to believe that her end of life desires would be among them. This case is difficult, because while I doubt Terri Schiavo ever formally announced her will (here I tend to believe the Schiavo friend who quoted Michael as saying, "We were only 25! We weren't thinking about death!"), I do believe that when visiting an aged relation, she did say something like, "If I ever end up like that, kill me." That she lost 100 pounds between the time she graduated from high school and met Michael Schiavo in college makes me think she may have had "food issues."

Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist, in a rare moment of lucidity, has admitted that Schiavo had "devastating brain damage" when she died. This is a reversal of his opinion back in March, but although he offered his opinion at that time as a doctor, he now says it was not a diagnosis. Frist, like many others, depended on a ten minute video clip which appeared to show Schiavo as responsive. That the clip was edited down from a four hour videotape did not influence his belief. Frist can diagnose popular opinion, however, and now calls the case closed.

Not everyone in Washington is responding as sensibly. Representative Dave Weldon, another doctor politician, who sponsored the bill aimed at keeping Terri alive, questioned parts of the autopsy. "I stand by what we did," Weldon said. "You had the mother and father, brother and sister, screaming that she be kept alive, and the husband, I thought, was not credible." Despite the fact that the husband was, you know, right. So screaming trumps truth. This is all you need to know about our political system.

That Terri was in relatively good physical health, outside of a having a brain the size and consistency of a walnut, has brought back the popular analogy, "It's illegal to starve a dog to death." The autopsy revealed that Schiavo died of dehydration, not starvation, but we'll let that pass. It is illegal to starve a dog to death. But dogs are put to sleep every day. It is unfortunate that the humane procedures we use to put animals out of their misery are not available to human beings. Given the choice, I'm sure Michael Schiavo would have preferred to allow his wife to die with greater dignity. Unfortunately, in this country, the only legal way to kill someone is to starve them to death. As Bugs Bunny would say, "Ironic, ain't it?"

Not My Love

2005-06-15T09:00:00.000-05:00

Because I am cranky and opinionated, people naturally want to hear my response to the Michael Jackson verdict. (Cranky and Opinionated were two of the dwarves Snow White was lucky enough not to meet. They worked white collar jobs and lived in a condo at the nicer end of the forest. They had a Polish cleaning lady who came in once a week, so they didn't need Snow's help anyway.)

Of course, I was disappointed when he was found not guilty.

I am not a justice hound. I don't think Michael Jackson was guilty of such heinous acts that he deserved to be put away. I wanted him to be found guilty for the same reason I wanted O.J. to be found not guilty: I find it more amusing. I can't devote more than a tiny sliver of my day or brain to Michael Jackson. Anything that was once human in him has been long since swept away by years of abuse, celebrity, and self love/loathing. He is a tragic figure only in that his destruction has been all self-inflicted. I was curious to see what would happen to him after a few years in the joint. Heck, months. Days. Now, he'll live out his time in ever growing diminution, eventually dying alone like Michael Corleone at the end of Godfather III. That scene, with Michael dying in that chair in the middle of the plaza, is almost exactly how I expect Michael Jackson's life to end. That, or shrunken in his bed, piled high with comforters, deep in the recesses of Neverland, like Charles Foster Kane. But I'll be long dead by then, and it will be private. I like my humiliation public.

I was not surprised by the verdict. Clearly, Jackson was guilty on some counts. Not necessarily conspiracy, though Jackson is clearly surrounded by henchmen who do his dirty work for him. But that doesn't make him different from any other celebrity. And it explains why Donald Trump finds him a kindred spirit. The conspiracy charge reminded me of filmmakers who put sexy or violent scenes in their movies because they know the MPAA will object to their film no matter what, and this may allow them to cut those scenes and keep the scenes they want. Prosecutors knew the jury wouldn't buy conspiracy, but it would allow them to find him not guilty of something. Instead they found him not guilty of everything.

Including giving alcohol to a child. Even if you don't believe he gave liquor to these kids for purposes of seduction, it's pretty likely that he gave liquor to these kids. Did the defense even refute it? [All I know of the case is what I saw in Countdown's Puppet Theater (hilarious) and the E! reenactments (even funnier).] Jackson should be found guilty of giving liquor to a minor for purposes of making him think you're cool. He's like the teenager who breaks into his parent's liquor cabinet and steals the crème de menthe so all his friends can get hammered and then puke green. Which is pathetic if you're 45 years old, and even worse if you're a superstar.

This case was the perfect storm of reasonable doubt. Believing Michael Jackson has molested children, yet not completely believing he molested this kid, is the definition of reasonable doubt. On the other hand, not believing the mother because she snaps her fingers at you when she talks is insane.

But as I said, I was not surprised by the outcome. Californians don't like to convict their celebrities. That and sunny weather is all they've got. I recall an article in the New Yorker following the O.J. verdict in which Marcia Clark was quoted as saying her superior told her not to take the case, because O.J. was "unconvictable." Heck, Robert Blake went into court wearing a shirt that said "I murdered my wife and all I got was this lousy jumpsuit," and they let him walk. Martha Stewart is kicking herself that her trial was in New York.

My primary reason for wanting Michael Jackson to be found guilty – once you get past the entertainment value – was to have someone tell him "No." In my eyes, much of Jackson's behavior around children falls on the scale between "creepy" and "objectionable." "Abuse" is difficult to categorize, because much of it depends on response rather than actions. The law is unwilling to go much past outright sexual activity, and I think that's fine. The law has to draw the line somewhere, and in general I prefer it to err on the side of liberty. But what Macaulay Culkin does not find abuse, your child or grandchild or niece or nephew might. In some ways, Michael Jackson's crime is worse than O.J.'s, because unlike O.J., he will do it again.

At least the public dismay over Jackson's admission that he likes to sleep with young boys – in a completely non-sexual way, of course – has put the kibosh on that activity. For now, at least.

Tom Mesereau, Jackson's legal eagle, told the press that Jackson will no longer let children sleep in his room, "because it makes him vulnerable to false charges." How about, "because it's a creepy thing for a middle aged man to do"? During this interview, the contract Mr. Mesereau has signed with the devil was clearly visible in his back pocket. It's one thing to defend Michael Jackson. It's one thing to believe he is innocent (quite different from not guilty) of these particular charges. It's one thing to convince yourself, in order to properly defend your client, that he is an okay guy. It's quite another thing to imply that the children who sleep in his bed are somehow to blame. I'm Michael Jackson's age, and I never find children in my bed. Especially not ones I'm not related to. How about you? How about you, Mr. Mesereau?

Crazy Tom took it a step further, as lawyers are wont to do (some people need to learn when to shut up), calling Jackson a "kind-hearted, child-like person" who could be taken advantage of, because he was too nice to people. Really? Would one of those people be his one time BFF Paul McCartney, who he outbid for publishing rights to the library of Beatles songs? Not that I have any problem with this on a purely business level. But the notion that a decision is "business, not personal," puts us in mind of a certain capo di tutti capi from paragraph 3. And since MJ's decision to screw his best friend happened 20 years ago, when the argument could be made that he truly was too young to know what he was doing, the mind reels at what he's capable of today.

Sweet Home? Alabama!

2005-06-10T08:48:00.000-05:00

As of this writing, Natalee Holloway remains missing. Holloway, you will recall, is the Alabama teen who visited Aruba with 130 of her closest friends during a class trip over Memorial Day weekend. The 124 students, along with 7 adult chaperones, were celebrating their graduation from Mountain Brook High School, in an affluent suburb of Birmingham. How affluent? 99% of the student body is white. In Alabama. The other 1% is Asian. The Teacher:Student ratio is 1 to 11. The median household income is $100,000, and the median value of a "housing unit" is $300,000. This in a state where the median income is $40,000.

When the students' plane left on Monday, Holloway was the one child left behind.

Local police and a host of FBI agents have been following up a series of weak leads. This has not stopped Aruban authorities from making 5 arrests in the case. The first two arrests were local men who had recently worked as security guards at the Hotel Allegro, located about 2 blocks from the Holiday Inn where Natalee and her friends stayed. Jeez, if your family is making more than 100 grand, stay at the Allegro! The two men have not officially been charged with anything, but this is no reason to let them go. In Aruba, you see, authorities can hold suspects for nearly four months without filing formal charges. You might as well be at Gitmo. According to police, the two suspects were not seen in Natalee's company, none of her possessions were found among the items police seized after taking them into custody, and suspicious bloodstains found on a mattress were determined to be from a dog.

On Thursday, police arrested the three young men with whom Natalee left a bar at 1:30 Monday morning. They say they dropped her off at her hotel at 2 am. One of them told authorities that as Holloway was getting out of their car, she stumbled and one of them helped her up. Walking to the hotel, she stumbled a second time, and a "dark-colored" man wearing a black T-shirt and carrying a radio helped her. Aruba, if you don't know, is a Dutch protectorate, much as Rwanda used to be. As such, the natives understand the cardinal rule: blame it on the blacks.

But this article is not about the criminal process in Aruba. I know as much about this case as you do, which is to say, nothing. My concern about this case has not been addressed in any of the stories I've read about it.

And that is this:

What kind of parents let their child go on her own to a country whose chief products are drinking and sexual activity?

The first news stories I heard referred to this expedition as a "class trip." While this is true to some degree – the students were all graduating from the same high school – the purpose of the trip was clearly recreational. This is better than pretending that there is some educational value in a trip to Aruba, but not by much. I don't know if the school had anything to do with organizing this expedition, but I sincerely hope not. Mountain Brook High School is a public school – though obviously one with benefits much greater than many private schools – and I don't believe public schools should be involved in the whoring out of our children.

[Note: A story in the Birmingham Post-Herald says graduating seniors "have traveled to the sunny Caribbean paradise of Aruba on senior trips for many years," but that, "the trip, though traditional, is not an official school event." So apparently while Mountain Brook High School is not directly involved in the whoring out of our children, it supports such whoring. This story also refers to "142 recent graduates," but the number I've seen most often is 124 (an easy transposition), so I'm sticking with it. Either number is a significant portion of the 270 total senior class.]

One might consider the vacation as something of a graduation present. Even then, I shudder. I have no problem with commemorating your child's passage from high school with some sort of a celebration. A nice party, perhaps. In my family, even the increasingly traditional gift of a car is considered excessive. But a trip – on your own – to the freaking Caribbean? Come on! The ability to graduate from high school is a base level accomplishment. It means you were able to not screw up enough that you made it through public school. I understand that there are plenty of families at risk in our nation, and that there are plenty of children for whom graduation is a major accomplishment. Not in Mountain Brook, Alabama, where 60% of the teachers have Masters degrees, where average daily class attendance is 97%, and where the dropout rate is 0.37% (vs. 13% for the state.)

Readers might object to my characterizing Natalee as being "on her own." After all, there were adult chaperones on the tour. Yes, there were. 7. For 124 students. Some quick division reveals that to be a ratio of nearly 18 students per chaperone. This is more than one and a half times the ratio of students to teachers at Mountain Brook High School, which, you'll recall, is 11 to 1. In other words, it is more important to provide supervision in the classroom than in a foreign country 1800 miles away.

And not just any country. An island nation devoted to spending most of the say mostly undressed mostly drinking. Oh, there may have been some scuba diving, but even with their endurance, few teens can send as much time diving as drinking. Nor would they want to. Natalee has been described as a naïve girl who hasn't dated a lot and doesn't party a lot. By her family. Even if this is true, sending her off to the Caribbean with a hundred randy teens and a fistful of chaperones seems the equivalent of throwing a baby into the deep end of the pool to teach it to swim.

Are parents held hostage to such a degree by their own children that they are forced to lavish such gifts upon them? Or even worse, do parents feel so bad about themselves that they feel this sort of need to buy affection from their own offspring? It boggles the mind.

And if you are such a parent who feels a) bound, or b) guilty enough to provide such pleasures, is it that much of an effort to research your child's travel plans?

Aruba is a small island in the Caribbean. Good start. This conjures up such images of the Bahamas, Jamaica, maybe the Cayman or Virgin Islands, perhaps St. Barts or Antigua. Aruba is nowhere near all that. Aruba is 25 miles from Venezuela. South America is clearly visible from the island. And when we think of Venezuela, what do we think about? Failing economy, domestic instability, drug trafficking. To quote the CIA World Factbook: "large quantities of cocaine, heroin, and marijuana transit the country from Colombia bound for US and Europe; significant narcotics-related money-laundering activity; increasing signs of drug-related activities by Colombian insurgents."

Which doesn't mean that Aruba is not safe. The rate of crime against tourists is relatively low, and violent crime against tourists is very uncommon. But it does mean that you should think twice – and then twice more – and then just STOP – before leaving a club at closing time with three strangers. Being in a foreign country, especially in these heady times, is like being in a horror movie. Don't leave the group!

Would that her loving parents had given her that message two weeks ago.

*****

Note: Natalee Holloway's senior quote in the Mountain Brook yearbook comes from the Lynyrd Skynyrd song "Freebird:" "If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me? For I must be traveling on now, there's too many places I haven't seen." Take that as you will.

*****

This entire tragedy could have been avoided if Natalee had been wearing her forget-me-not panties.

These panties use an embedded microchip and the cutting edge technology of the sensatech system to monitor the wearer's position (globally, not physically), as well as such biometric measurements as her heart rate and body temperature. They're sold individually or in packs of 7, for daily protection.

If Natalee had worn forget-me-not panties, we'd know where she was today. Or at least where her panties were.

[Warning: forget-me-not panties are marketed through contagiousmedia.org.]

The Edge of Doom

2004-11-12T11:05:00.000-06:00

The Gays are killing the Democratic Party. Or so you'd believe if you read a paper some time during the past week. This past election was all about moral values, and in this country, moral values comes down to one thing: steamy man on man sex. For years, the charge against The Gays has been that all they want to do is have cheap, meaningless sex; that their lives are all about promiscuity, at least when they're not dressing up as women and parading across town in their annual membership drives. This year, things changed. Now that The Gays want to cast off their wanton pasts and settle into committed, monogamous relationships, they are guilty of trying to destroy marriage. The President proposed an amendment banning gay marriage and the Republican Party Platform opposed both gay marriage and civil unions. In the 11th hour, The President said he was just kidding, that marriage was out, but that states could offer civil unions if they wanted. Now that 11 states - including two that should have known better, Oregon and Michigan; and I see you snickering over there, Ohio, you're no better - have passed laws banning gay marriage, and in some cases, civil unions, He is banging the drum again. The Party faithful are thrilled. To display his moral values, one protester has taught his 8 year old daughter the meaning of sodomy, so she can hold a placard declaring, SODOMY IS NOT A CIVIL RIGHT." Actually, honey, according to the Supreme Court, it is. Even for you, when you are old enough. Visiting your loved one in the hospital when they're dying is not a civil right.

Although this is the year gay marriage had her coming out ball, she's been kicking around since the mid-90s, when Congress passed the Defense of Marriage Act, or DOMA. DOMA was passed in a frenzy of fear that Hawaii was about to legalize gay marriage, and basically said that no other states had to legally recognize such a marriage. In regards to straight marriage, states operate under the Full Faith and Credit Clause, which essentially says that if you're married in one state, you're married in all states. Under DOMA, "No State, territory, or possession of the United States, or Indian tribe" is required to recognize "a relationship between persons of the same sex that is treated as a marriage under the laws of such other State, territory, possession, or tribe, or a right or claim arising from such relationship." So even if The Gays get married legally in Boston, Pennsylvania has no legal obligations. DOMA also defined marriage under Federal law as "only a legal union between one man and one woman as husband and wife, and the word 'spouse' refers only to a person of the opposite sex who is a husband or a wife."

Apparently, this is not enough to protect poor, helpless old Marriage. Now she needs additional defense against those who are encroaching on her borders. I agree. So I am campaigning to protect Marriage against the greatest threat to the institution. I am referring, of course, to divorce.

We've all seen the shocking statistics: that there is one divorce for every two marriages in the United States. People are marrying like crazy, but divorce is turning these new marriages into a sham. How can marriage possibly survive in this country if half the people who try it give it up before it has a chance to truly infest them? That's why I'm petitioning for new legislation to truly strengthen marriage.

My bill is the Defense of Original Marriage act, or DOOM. When a couple enters into matrimony, they do so before God, and obviously God's laws hold sway over those of man. So how can we continue to fool ourselves into thinking that a court - an activist judge, if you will - should have the power to put asunder what God has joined together? Christ was clear on this one. Not only is divorce against God's will, but remarriage to a divorced man or woman is adultery. We'll have none of that in Christian America! Some try to get around God's law by saying Christ allowed divorce in cases of fornication, or infidelity. As if two wrongs make a right! Divorce on top of fornication, and even worse, remarriage on top of divorce, is just piling sin on sin. DOOM makes it clear that once you're married, you're married.

Speaking of fornication, DOOM will also make it illegal for unmarried men and women to live together. All this cohabitation is clearly weakening marriage. Think of cows. Think of milk. Under DOOM, any unmarried couple living together will face strict fines. Unless they're gay, of course. The government will encourage parents and other family members to turn in their sinful relations, perhaps by rewarding them with a tax credit. Some sort of a fornication finder's fee. Florida has already passed a measure limiting the rights to privacy granted girls under the age of 18. Once voters see the sanctity of marriage is at stake, I'm sure they'll get behind similar measures in other states. The Census Bureau tracks individuals living at every address, so it should be easy enough to use that information to start cracking down on these criminal pleasurnauts.

DOOM is not completely unbending, though, and will dissolve marriages under special circumstances. The marriage vow makes it plain: "As long as you both shall live." DOOM does not advocate murder. But the death of a spouse is sufficient to dissolve a marriage. So if one partner should willingly allow him- or herself to be put to death in order to free the remaining partner, DOOM will gladly provide the structure to carry out his or her wishes. In addition, the penalty for divorce will be execution. DOOM does not condone the murder of innocents, but once one has turned away from God, all bets are off.

*****

I'm also working on legislation to appease both those who are against abortion and those who oppose stem cell research. Obviously, if life begins at conception, anyone who opposes abortion should also oppose in vitro fertilization. Since only 10 to 20 percent of eggs fertilized in this process ever result in a normal pregnancy, tens of thousands - perhaps hundreds of thousands - of human lives are destroyed every year through this barbaric procedure. Children are not a civil right.

The Fat Lady Sings

2004-11-11T11:11:00.000-06:00

I'm not going to write about election irregularities. I just don't have it in me. For the past week, MSNBC's Keith Olbermann has been the only mainstream reporter to have anything to say about it. Now candidates are starting to descend on Ohio and New Hampshire, asking for recounts in precincts using the "scantron" type optical ballot scanners. All I will say about this is what I've ever said: the only people who believe that electronic voting would be more reliable than any other sort are those who have never used a computer. If you're looking for details, truthout.org and commondreams.org are good places to start.

*****

By now, I assume you've seen the slew of red and blue maps of the United States, from the standard "red state / blue state" map to the vote by county map in USA Today and other sources. By November 3, at least one blog had gone in a new direction, posting a map on which states were colored in shades of purple, to indicate the percentage of Democratic or Republican vote. Only Utah remains completely red.

If these are insufficient for your needs, a handful of wonks from the University of Michigan have posted a slew of maps and cartograms stretching the nation this way and that in order to make sense of the vote. In a cartogram, the areas of specific locations, such as states, are resized according to their population. In these maps, the Northeast bulges grossly, while such states as Montana and the Dakotas all but disappear. As you might expect, the area covered by red and blue are roughly equivalent. There's another purple map, this one demonstrating voting patterns county by county, originally posted by a Princeton mathematician. His site also has a photograph of the US as seen from space at night, with cities clearly visible, marked by their lights. The correspondence between population centers and blue votes is striking.

Then there's this map.

*****

By the way, if you're not sure if you live in a red state or blue state, Mrs. Betty Bowers can help.

*****

I am not the writer of fuckthesouth.com, but I cannot disagree with anything he or she has to say. I was asked earlier this week if I thought the South had gone off the deep end. I replied that I thought much of the South had always been off the deep end. This writer takes it one (giant) step further. As you can tell by the title, the language is pretty harsh. But the anger is righteous. One (highly edited) point: "The next @#%& who says, 'It's your money, not the government's money" is gonna get their @#%& kicked. Nine of the ten states that get the most federal dollars and pay the least? That's right, they're red states. And eight of the ten states that receive the least and pay the most? They're blue states. It's not your money, @#%&, it's our money. What was that Real American Value you were spouting a minute ago? Self reliance? Try this for self reliance: buy your own @#%& stop signs, @#%&." Go there. You'll feel better. Or (depending on your point of view) perhaps chastened.

*****

Woody Allen once said that 90 percent of success is just showing up. (Or 80%. Or maybe 95. Source?) Steve Rocco is unwilling to go that far.

Rocco was just elected to the school board of the Orange County Unified School District. His opponent, Phil Martinez, is a park ranger who has three children in the district, is president of the PTA at his kids' school and is active with the Boy Scouts. Rocco, 53, lives with his parents. Martinez. raised contributions, attended forums, sent mailings to voters in the district and was endorsed by the teachers' union. Rocco ignored mail from district officials and the teachers' union during the campaign. He didn't respond to media requests for interviews and didn't bother with a ballot statement outlining his platform. When the PTA sent him an invitation to a candidate forum, the letter came back unopened.

Rocco won the election with 54 percent of the vote. One scenario suggests that voters chose the non-Hispanic name over Martinez. Another says Rocco won because he identified himself on the ballot as an "educator/writer" (he has no quantifiable experience in either) and uninformed voters chose the educator over the park ranger. One local politician said, "This is just one of the rough edges in our electoral system, where the voters can elect someone they know nothing about."

Yeah. We've seen that.

*****

If you live in a red state, there's a good chance you won't see Saving Private Ryan tonight. ABC is showing the World War II epic as part of its Veterans Day observance, but a number of affiliates, concerned about the FCC's stance on language and violence, are unwilling to risk possible fines. Citadel Communications, which owns stations in Iowa and Nebraska, sought assurances from the Federal Communications Commission that the film was acceptable. The agency was unable to provide such assurance in advance. In addition, they've made it clear that virtually any use of foul language - which is used repeatedly, but appropriately, in Ryan - is unacceptable for broadcast radio and television.

Stations in Atlanta, Dallas, New Orleans, Cincinnati, Charlotte and Louisville, amongst others, will not air the movie. Sinclair Broadcast Group, which chose not to air the Nightline episode honoring the soldiers who have died in Iraq and chose to air the anti-Kerry film Stolen Honor, passed on saving Ryan.

*****

If you're looking for a ray of light in our troubled times, here's an excerpt from a letter Thomas Jefferson write in 1798, after enactment of the Sedition Act.

"A little patience, and we shall see the reign of witches pass over, their spells dissolve, and the people, recovering their true sight, restore their government to its true principles. It is true that in the meantime we are suffering deeply in spirit, and incurring the horrors of a war and long oppressions of enormous public debt . . . If the game runs sometimes against us at home we must have patience till luck turns, and then we shall have an opportunity of winning back the principles we have lost, for this is a game where principles are at stake."

Blue State

2004-11-05T11:44:00.000-06:00

The first call came at 8:20 Wednesday morning. "What the hell happened?" It was my brother, the Kerry Republican, trying to sort out how the electorate could have gotten it so wrong. One of the stats I relayed to him, one I found inconceivable (in the word of Vizzini) at the time, but which apparently proved as true as the other things that dwarf doubted, was that 97% of Republicans had voted for Bush. The 3% comprised my brother, the editors of The Economist, and some Knights of Columbus in Michigan. We bartered theories, felt each others' pain, and then went on with our day.

I was surprised at the equanimity I felt. Shouldn't I be tearing my hair (what little there is of it) and beating my (expansive) breast? I mean, it was bad enough that my candidate had lost. But the winner was a man I consider a plague on both our houses. A man who has defiled the values I hold most dear as an American. I had expected at this moment to feel a rage that could not be quelled. The previous Friday I had spoken of starting an underground revolt. I had anticipated rioting in Detroit, King's County, Chicago. Why wasn't Selma burning?

I made coffee.

To some degree, this is chronic loser syndrome. Having lived most of my life in Chicago, I've gotten used to losing. In my nearly 30 years of voting, the only victorious presidential candidate I've supported is Bill Clinton. And yet this time, I thought we had a chance. It would be tight, but the tide was turning. Polls said we could win Florida, but I never believed that. But I knew we had Pennsylvania. And Ohio. Surely Ohio. The previous night, the networks had taunted me, built up my confidence because of their wariness after 2000. Virginia, too close to call. Missouri, too close to call. Arkansas, too close to call. Had the cobwebs fallen away? Had America rubbed their collective eyes and said, "My God! What have I done!"

No. State by state, Dixie fell. But it was still okay. Red states were staying red, but blue states were staying blue. New Hampshire took her time to get her dress on, for a tiny state of 1.2 million souls, but finally fell for Kerry. Florida turned, but that was no surprise to me. Come on, Ohio. No Republican has ever won the White House without Ohio. And yet, when Ohio fell, I didn't go nuts. I didn't rant. I didn't curse. Which is shocking, because it takes so little to make me curse these days. I just turned off the TV. Once the first shudder of disgust and loss had passed, I turned it back on. Just in time to see John Edwards declare they would count every vote. Then off to bed.

Earlier this week - it seems so long, long ago - I wrote of my Pre-Election Anxiety Disorder. All I can imagine is that my pre-election jitters were so intense, that once the worst happened, I had no feelings left.

Side note: I had a conversation Wednesday evening with a friend of mine in which I ran through some of the Senate contests, who had won and why, and what I thought it meant. She was surprised at the information I had at my fingertips. What I told her is what I'll tell you: my PEAD was not limited to the presidency. I was obsessed. I had my nose in every race. I know why Lisa Murkowski was expected to lose and why she won. Is it any surprise that once I was freed of that tension, the actual results felt less crushing?

Then the emails started. Such an outpouring of grief! I do not mock it; I understand it. I especially feel the need to reach out to others of a similar mind when you feel that the rest of the country has tuned against you. Which is, quite frankly, what we feel. This election turned into "Deliverance:" a boatload of northern intellectuals got raped and shot at by southern conservatives. George Bush made us all squeal like a pig. We are suffering from our own little post traumatic stress disorder. A correspondent on one list summoned it up thus: "I'm glad we have this forum in which we can be together in spirit if not in person." (Another took it a step further: "I take solace in the knowledge that when the Civil War begins, I have a platoon to join.") At noon came the plea, "Will you offer a salve for our wounds any time soon?"

This is that salve.

I'm trying to remain positive about it all, contrary though it is to my nature. On one hand, we're no worse off than we were six months ago. Sure, we lost a few seats in Congress. Zell Miller was a Republican in everything but name, so it's really a total of three seats in the Senate. Florida was a tough loss, and hard fought, but it's hard to fight two Bushes at once. Trading Fritz Hollings for Jim DeMint in South Carolina is unfortunate, but as with Bob Graham in Florida and John Breaux in Louisiana, it's more the man than the seat that will be missed. The big news is the loss of Minority Leader Tom Daschle, but as Jon Stewart said on the Daily Show (I'm paraphrasing): It's uncertain what Tom Daschle will do next, but he's sure to be ineffective. Daschle has bent over backwards for the Bush agenda over the past four years. His "leadership" will surely not be missed.

On the other hand, of course, now that GB2 has nothing holding him back, we can expect him to run rampant over the Constitution. The most frightening prospect is what he might do to the Supreme Court. It has become apparent to me that the only people who hold Bush in higher disregard than the Dems are the Supremes. Sure, they put him in office four years ago. And yes, Fat Tony Scalia and Uncle Clarence Thomas are his lapdogs. But William Rehnquist and Sandra Day O'Connor - conservatives both - have been aching to retire for the past two years, and have held off just waiting for Bush to be voted out of office. At least that's what it looks like from here. Rehnquist isn't going to be able to wait much longer. So Bush is expected to have at least two, and possibly as many as four, opportunities to add justices to the Court, including a Chief Justice. (The Chief Justice has to be nominated and approved just like any other, even if he or she is already on the bench.) But moderate Republicans have already made it clear that they won't just roll over. Arlen Specter is expected to be the new chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, and he has warned the White House against trying to fill any upcoming Supreme Court vacancies with judges who would oppose abortion rights. The moderate senators of the Republican Main Street Partnership have issued a similar statement. Both of Ohio's Republican senators came out against that state's gay marriage initiative (which passed anyway, of course.) And Lincoln Chaffee, the Republican senator from Rhode Island, threatened to switch parties if Bush was re-elected. So we're not completely on our own.

Here are some other thoughts, in no particular order.

1) Stunning as the election results may be, on examination, they're not surprising. Red states went red, blue states went blue. Iowa's trend into the red is distressing (Come back into the light!) but not a huge shocker. For years it has been a state divided between the Democratic intelligentsia and the Republican "traditional values" folks. The same is true in Ohio, where the liberals of the cities are balanced by the conservatives of the suburbs and rural areas. The same, for many years, was true of Illinois, which has only recently become blue. Look at each seat the Republicans took, and you won't be surprised. Hell, it's more surprising that Tom Daschle ever got elected from South Dakota to begin with than it is that he lost this year.

2) We didn't do anything wrong. On reflection, the only way we could have won was with a more dynamic candidate. But where is that candidate? It's why the Dems are Obama-happy. He stands out. In this year's crop, Kerry was simply the least bland of the bland. Not including Sharpton, who is unelectable, and Dean, who I believe would have proven to be. We had the issues, we had the money, we had the get out the vote effort. We lost because the GOP matched us on get out the vote, and too many Americans are not well read, so they can't (won't?) follow the issues. People vote with their gut. But, as Shakespeare reminds us, "A man may smile and smile and be a villain."

3) We must stop running from ourselves. Kerry's biggest problem was that he was too (small "c") conservative. Q: "Is the war in Iraq a mistake?" Kerry: "No." Q: "Are you the biggest liberal in Congress?" Kerry: "No." Yes! Yes, we are liberals. Look it up. Liberal means generous. Liberal means forward-looking. According to the American Heritage Dictionary, liberal means: 1. Not limited to or by established, traditional, orthodox, or authoritarian attitudes, views, or dogmas; free from bigotry. 2. Favoring proposals for reform, open to new ideas for progress, and tolerant of the ideas and behavior of others; broad-minded. 3. Tending to give freely; generous. Free from bigotry. Favoring reform. Tolerant of the ideas and behavior of others. Generous. That's what liberal means to me. And to most people who consider themselves liberal. We need to present ourselves in that way. We must stop letting those on the right define us. We must be active, not reactive. (And please, please, not "proactive.") Yes, I'm a liberal, because I believe in progress and reform and tolerance. These are the moral values which are the basis of the Democratic Party. Why are we afraid of having values? Why are we so afraid, period? "Yes, the war in Iraq is a mistake. It is morally insupportable. It is a horrible tragedy but at this time, the men and women who have died there have died in vain. We owe it to them to make sure that as few Americans continue to die there as possible." If you're going to lose anyway, you might as well take a stand.

4) The only people more upset about George Bush's re-election than us are traditional Republicans. Face it, in most of the red states (and blue states, for that matter), people are voting for the party, not the person. We can't win that game. But when The Economist supports Kerry, when American Conservative supports Kerry, when Pat Buchanan says Bush should be re-elected because the neo-cons need to be held responsible for the war in Iraq and its ultimate failure, there's trouble a brewin'. Right now, we are out of power. But we need to be able to reach out to those traditional Republicans - the McCains, the Lugars, the Chaffees - in order to survive the onslaught of the radical / religious right over the next four years. It's in the best interest of both parties to do so.

5) We need to figure out who we are. And we need to let people know. The old bromide holds now more than ever: All politics is local politics. There are plenty of Dems in those blue states. They know how their Republican friends and neighbors think more than we do. The Party needs to organize both from the bottom up and the top down. Why do the red states hate us? How can we change that? Most hate is based on fear and distrust. If they hate us because, once again from Jon Stewart, "dudes kissing trumps everything" - well, then there's nothing we can do. If they don't trust our economic policies, or our social policies, or because they believe that abortion is murder, then there's no reason to try to change their mind. We differ in opinion, and that's why there's more than one party. If they hate us because they think we're all a bunch of city slickers who have sex hanging from the chandeliers, well, we can lie about that. But seriously. If they hate us because we've been demonized by the other side, we can change that. But that requires personal contact. And a recognition that this is an effort that needs to happen constantly, not just every four years. And it needs to start now. In places like Iowa and Ohio, where we're not that far apart. And Nevada and New Mexico and Colorado, where we have a chance. And in Michigan and Wisconsin and Minnesota, which you'd better believe Republican strategists are targeting even as we speak.

6) After its long winter nap, the media seems to be starting to shake off some of the slumber that affected it even before 9/11. We can and should encourage that. And by "we," I mean we, individuals, groups of individuals, not counting on our elected officials to do that for us. No we cannot fight the media giants (although we can petition our representative in government to do that), but we can nudge and harass individual outlets into doing their job.

7) The best thing to come out of this election is increased involvement by the electorate. We can't let that drop. As long as we become politically active only every four years, we will never make any progress. One third of the Senate and the entire House of Representatives will be up for election again in two years. Think how many atrocities this Administration can commit in that time. We (and by we I mean us and the Party) need to look ahead now to those races, and start organizing today to defeat who we can. Joe Hoeffel did very well against Arlen Specter in Pennsylvania, even taking the lead in the vote tally at times during the evening. This run was seen as a "warm-up" for his race against Rick Santorum, a less popular and truly egregious senator, in 2006. What can we do to bring about a Hoeffel win? Who else do we want to target? This is how the other side thinks; we need to get in on their game.

Despite the way we may feel, none of our losses in the election were insurmountable. We keep hearing that George Bush got more votes than anyone who was ever elected president. You know who got the second most votes of anyone who ever ran for president? John Kerry. You know who got the third most votes of anyone who ever ran for president? Al Gore. Turnout was at a near-record high of almost 60%. Only 4 out of 10 eligible voters couldn't be bothered to show up for "the most important election of our lives." (TM everybody) Who didn't show up? As usual, the kids. For all the hoo-hah, the breakdown of voters across age ranges was about the same as in 2000. Even with the turnout, Murkowski beat Knowles in Alaska by 10,000 votes, in a state which hasn't sent a Democrat to the Senate in 30 years. Thune beat Daschle - the only incumbent of either party to lose - by 4600 votes. Castor lost to Martinez in Florida by 78,000, but that's out of more than 7 million votes cast, or little more than 1%. In Illinois, Alan Keyes received nearly 1.4 million votes, leading MSNBC's Keith Olbermann to observe, "These are the voters who wear tinfoil hats."

As you surely know, 22% of those who voted for Bush said their top issue was "moral values." Such as an unprovoked invasion of a sovereign nation which led to more than 10,000 civilian deaths, based on a fabric of lies and deception. Oh, I kid. Actually, these voters are opposed to homosexuality and favor school prayer and leaders with strong religious faith. Let's see, who else has those values? Oh that's right, Islamic Fundamentalists. Democratic leaders are now trying to figure out how they can extend their appeal to voters outside the cities and to those involved with religion. The sight of politicians kissing babies will soon be replaced by images of them kissing icons.

Ballot initiatives banning gay marriage passed in 11 states; in Mississippi, it received 92% of the vote. Initiatives banning interracial marriage would probably have passed in many of those states as well. One quarter of the voters in swing states are white evangelicals who voted for Bush by almost 3 to1. The only way to bring these voters to the Democratic Party is to ditch everything we believe in. But 30% of swing state voters are from cities over 50,000, and they went for Kerry by 2 to 1. Suburban voters supported Bush 54/45, and rural voters went for him by 57 to 42. We can reach out to these voters without pretending to be something we're not.

Endorsement

2004-11-01T11:09:00.000-06:00

If you've made it this far - not only in today's issue, but in the year - it should come as no surprise that I'm supporting John Kerry for President. Our relationship is strained at best. I fell in love with him a little bit at the convention, but that was pretty much because I had to. I feel like this is an arranged marriage. I don't love my fiancee, but I don't have much to say in the matter. He's the best my parents could find. At least with their limited resources. He drove me crazy for weeks on the campaign trail, but there were times during the debates when he made me remember why I fell in love with him to begin with.

Kerry has the potential to be a bad candidate who turns out to be a good president. If nothing else, we know he'll be able to read the intelligence presented to him and make decisions on it based on his own understanding and judgment, rather than on what his advisors and his idea of Jesus tells him. I don't begrudge George Bush his faith, though I wish he would stop shaking it in my face and giving it primacy over facts. Especially since, from what I've read, his faith is based on such a limited understanding of the Bible that if he actually makes it to heaven, Jesus will shake him like a baby for his ideas. I pity anyone who has to clean up the mess George Bush has made, and I don't believe Kerry has the balls to piss off enough people by doing what needs to be done. But anything that stanches the flow of money, bad will, American lives and ecological disaster wrought by this Administration is a blessing. There is a good chance that Kerry would be another Jimmy Carter, a president so paralyzed by choices that he's unable to make any, but even that is comparable to the bad choices that define the past four years.

I feel bad for any Republicans out there who feel that have to have the same relationship with George Bush that I have with John Kerry. I understand people feeling enough of a distrust for the Democratic Party or for Kerry himself that they feel a need to stay the course. But unlike my husband, who I don't love but have to marry, your husband is abusive. I don't know how my marriage will turn out, but you're staying in a bad marriage. If I was a Republican, I'd be appalled at the effect this guy was having on my Party. This is the point my brother makes, when he points out that he should be (and is) more angry with Bush than any of us, because he voted for him. To my mind, Bush is destroying the Republican Party. Not weakening it: the Party is stronger than ever. But what does it stand for? We have gone from a record surplus to a record deficit. The government has grown to the largest size ever. (The business which created the most new jobs over the past four years is the federal government.) Programs such as No Child Left Behind (not to mention the proposed Federal Marriage Amendment) take power away from the states and grant it to the federal government. George Bush runs the United States the way Ken Lay ran Enron. He is the CEO-in-Chief: he brokers no dissent from below, and fiscal responsibility is important only to the degree that it does not keep him from getting what he wants.

I don't just want this president out; I want them all out. It's hard to come up with a name in this Administration which does not cause me to shudder in disgust. Dick Cheney. Lying, self-centered, power mad plutocrat. Donald Rumsfeld. Single-minded, arrogant, buck-passing mob boss. John Ashcroft. Did I use lying already? Underhanded, secretive, entitled hatchet man. Condoleezza Rice. Did I use power mad already? Shrill, misleading, aggressive academic. The only one I like is poor Colin Powell, who has tried to exert a rational influence on this group of commandos and has been rewarded with a swift kick to the curb. He announced some time back that he would not be back for a second term, and if Bush is victorious, I hope for the sake of what's left of his reputation that he acts on that statement.

If they weren't so arrogant and smug, I might not hate them quite so much.

My view of the Bush Administration has been influenced, to no small degree, by The New Yorker. Long before re-election was even an issue, the magazine has been reporting on the actions of this White House, from lying about the environment to quashing unfavorable statistics coming out of the Departments of Labor and Commerce. It was here that I first read about the abuses of the Help America Vote Act that are currently in the news. (Abuses prompted, I might add, by John Ashcroft.) It was here that I read what's really in the Republican Party platform, and the degree to which it clashes with the moderate stance put forth by people like McCain and Giuliani. Long before the PEAD set in, the New Yorker described what the Bush tax code is really all about. So it came as no surprise when the magazine endorsed John Kerry for president. Unless, of course, you consider that this is the first time in its 80 year history that the magazine has endorsed any candidate. In a similar vein, a number of conservative magazines and newspapers - including his home town newspaper - have refused to endorse Bush, supporting either Kerry or no candidate at all. Would the American people read more. I recommend you read the New Yorker endorsement - its 4500 words of political insight will make you gnash your teeth.

I've heard a number of people say that they follow politics the way some people follow sports. This is just part of what's wrong with politics. When it becomes a question of rooting for your team over the opposing team, you've given up all responsibility for personal judgment. Not only that - the comparison is not particularly apt. I think that people who follow sports probably know more about sports than most people who follow politics know about politics. When it comes to voting for the All-Star Team, only a stupid fan would vote for everyone from their home team instead of the best players from their league. And only the most simple-minded fan would vote for the best players in their league and the worst players in the other league, hoping for an uneven match. I believe most baseball fans vote for the players they consider the best from both leagues, hoping for the most exciting game possible. People need to choose their candidates the same way they would put together their team in a fantasy sports league. Select the best players you can get, no matter what team they come from, in order to create the greatest benefit to yourself.

Isn't that the point?

PEAD Off

2004-10-31T11:12:00.000-06:00

I wanted to post on Friday, but I got home from school late on Thursday, after another 5 am day following another sleepless night. Next thing you know, I was taking an unscheduled nap, which started with falling asleep in front on the computer. By the time I woke up, the cable news shows had started, and I had to see how they were spinning the day's events. One show led into another, including a double dose of Hardball and the second airing of The Daily Show, and by the time that wrapped up it was too late to start writing about politics. So now I sit eating Halloween candy and spilling my guts.

There's a word for what I have, according to the Washington Post. It's PEAD, and it stands for Pre-Election Anxiety Disorder. Millions of Americans are suffering from it, fueled by the media overdrive, the multiplying polls, the growing lawsuits and gathering lawyers in states from Florida to Oregon. This, on top of the emotional stress many of us on both sides feel about whatever handbag the world will go to hell in should the other candidate be elected. The specter of terrorists running wild in the streets has been fueled in our imaginations, but the true terror has been sown by political operatives on both sides who seek to control the electorate as much as possible, and to the degree that is not possible, remove them from the picture altogether. The mere fact that I speak of "operatives on both sides" is bound to result in volleys of email from readers ranting about how much worse the other side is then their own. I can't even mock them for their obsession, because I am in the throes of it myself.

Meanwhile, the page at washingtonpost.com which runs the story on Pre-Election Anxiety Disorder displays a huge ad for CNN's America Votes 2004 coverage, featuring the grim visages of the two combatants. Links lead to "The Pundits Pick," the Post's electoral college map, and the results of their latest tracking poll. This is not what I need. I need pictures of puppies and bunnies and stories of Halloween and Indian Summer. I need a trip to Disney World. Except that it's in Florida, which is a swing state, and which has already had voting problems, and where the final vote is bound to be contested again this year, no matter who wins.

I can't wait until Wednesday. Like the majority of Americans (according to the polls), I don't expect the election to be resolved by then. I expect there to be court challenges in several states. I believe there's a good chance that victory will eventually be granted to the side which wins the most cases, rather than the one which wins the most votes. But at least by Wednesday I'll know which states are in contention, and I won't be constantly checking the news to see the latest poll results in Nevada or New Mexico or now, Hawaii, for god's sake. Recounts will allow me to focus just on Florida and Ohio and whatever other states come into question. I'll still be obsessed, and burning with a white hot anger, but at last the issues will be clear.

This Is My Day

2004-10-27T11:14:00.000-05:00

It begins with a stop at electoral-vote.com, and thanks to whatever well-meaning friend brought that site to my attention. (This is where the punctuation for "sarcastic" that my friend Brian wants would come in handy.) It has since become a focal point of my obsession. The Votemaster (as he calls himself) of the site is an avowed Democrat, but he is scrupulously ethical in his attempt to keep the site's results legitimate. Unlike most pollsters and pundits, he explains his methodology in detail on his Welcome page. He has even tinkered with his method (averaging recent polls rather than using the "latest" one - and describing how hard it is to determine which is the "latest") in his desire to provide the clearest and most accurate picture possible. Every day he updates the map, reflecting the latest poll results which have come in. States are colored deep red or blue, indicating strong support for Bush or Kerry (poll results in the double digits); pale red or blue, indicating weak support for Bush or Kerry ("leaning" in other polls); or outlined in pale red or blue, indicating negligible support for Bush or Kerry (results within the margin of error). The map currently shows Kerry ahead when all states which are not exact ties (Nevada and New Hampshire) are factored in. But he also indicates Kerry has only 95 "strong" electoral votes to Bush's 147, figures which are fairly conservative compared to most media outlets. The map has swung wildly back and forth over the past few months. As recently as yesterday, Bush was ahead.

The Votemaster is not only a pusher but a junkie, so while he provides me with my morning fix, he also links to sites and articles where he gets his own junk. His opening commentary is clear and cogent, so if I've somehow missed a few days, I'll go to "Previous Reports" to see what's he's had to say. I've learned more about polling through this site than I knew I didn't know. It's been useful during this season of constant poll results. It's through this site that I read the article (long lost now in the depths of the Web) in which a Gallup rep said their results tend to stray from those of other pollsters because they think wider swings are more exciting. Another article clarified the notion of "margin of error, explaining that the MoA (as they like to call it) refers to both numbers in the poll. So if a poll shows Bush ahead of Kerry 49% to 46%, with a 4 point MoA (not unusual), it actually means that Bush's percentage could be anywhere from 53 to 45, and Kerry 50 to 42, so a 4 point margin of error actually allows for an 11 point spread. John Zogby - who seems to be one of the more legitimate pollsters - was on The Daily Show this week, and spoke of how polls have changed over the past 50 years - a topic I read about on electoral-vote.com. With the advent of answering machines and caller ID, on top of busy schedules, only about 40% of the people who are called answer their phone. Of that, 2 out of 3 refuse to finish the survey, versus the 2 out of 3 people who regularly agreed to finish the poll 40 years ago. So in order to poll 1300 people you need to call 10,000. Hard to say you're getting a representative sampling. Then, of course, there are the formulas various organizations use to determine who is a "likely voter." Don't ask - it will drive you mad.

Eventually work forces me off the Net. If it's a school day, the half dozen or so of my students who have any interest in politics want to ask me questions. Especially since I used the Conventions and Debates as teaching aids in my public speaking class. My students know where I stand politically, but I maintain as non-partisan a stance as possible. For example, I was very open about expecting John Kerry to tank in the debates. On one hand, I felt that I should keep all politics out of the classroom, but on the other, I recognized that would be dishonest, and would do them a greater disservice than a balanced discussion of events. I have a couple of admitted Republicans in the class, and since a classroom is a weighted environment (I must grade them, after all) I've fought to remain open. I've never said, for example, that George Bush is a madman who is going to kill us all. And since my support for John Kerry is tentative at best, this hasn't been hard to do.

My students who support Bush are not outwardly insane. One is a suburban youth who is interested in law enforcement, and who may (as many people his age) still be echoing the opinions of his parents. I don't mean this as condescending. Because I limit political discussion, I don't really know what most of my students' beliefs are based on. But I do know he's against gun control, which seems an odd stance for someone who works with the police. (Maybe not.) The other is a 50ish woman who lost her job in publishing due to budget cuts and outsourcing, and who has returned to school to get a degree in nursing, in order to find work which, while it will pay significantly less than her previous job, will at least be more dependable. Her support for the Administration is a bit tougher to comprehend.

If I'm working from home, odds are good that I'll be 1) working on the computer, and 2) using the Net for research. This is bad. The problem with having the vast resources of the Internet at your command is that you are bound to use them. And when one has become a political junkie, the news is never good. The political news is especially gut churning. I've heard pundits comment that this election is particularly partisan, or dirty, or both. I won't counter those statements, though I find most elections particularly partisan and dirty. What makes this election stand out in my mind is the sense that the Parties believe Vince Lombardi was right: Winning isn't everything; it's the only thing. There is nothing they won't do to win this election. The dirty tricks of Nixon are childhood pranks compared with those of Karl Rove. This is a guy who once held up the results of an election for a year until he could strong-arm his guy into office. This is the guy who painted John McCain as irrational and Max Cleland as unpatriotic, simply to win. People ask why Democrats can't forget Florida in 2000. It's because we believe (and I'll include myself in this category) that Florida 2000 was not an anomaly; it is now standard operating procedure. We see a Republican operative behind every hedge because the evidence suggests they're there.

Let me digress. I am not one who finds Republicans inherently demonic. As I've written before, I was chased out of the Republican Party when it got into bed with the Religious Right in the 80s. Ronald Reagan re-energized the Party, but most of what he stood for was anathema to me. Still, on the local level I have supported Republican candidates, and will again. It is the national Republican Party that has become the haven of thugs. Under George Bush and Tom DeLay, it has taken its cues from the Texas Republican Party, a party which has won seats in Congress by gerrymandering strong Democratic representatives out of their districts. In one case, it did so by redrawing the congressional map so that the border of a mostly Republican district extended down the middle of a street and encased one single house in a Democratic district: the home of its representative. I am no fan of Tom Daschle, but in the past, when politics still has some sense of decency (say, four years ago), the leadership of one party did not specifically target the leadership of the other. Those rules are no more. This year, the national Republican Party has spent a record amount of money trying to unseat Daschle, the Senate minority leader. For this Party, whose leader once said he wanted to be a uniter, not a divider, having power is more important than the good of the people.

Which is why I need The Daily Show. To cool off.

It has come down to this: the two political programs I can watch without suffering an aneurysm are The Daily Show and Countdown, with Keith Olbermann. It is no surprise that both shows take a less than serious look at events of the day.

This is the first year I've really committed to The Daily Show. I've loved Jon Stewart for years, though I don't remember how I first came to know him. I remember him from The Larry Sanders Show, lo these ten years ago now, but by the time he was on that show I was already familiar with him. In any case, I loathe Craig Kilborn, the prior host of The Daily Show, which is why I never watched it under his tenure. But the show's Indecision 2000 coverage, under new host Stewart, got great press, so this year I started checking it out.

One charge I've heard in the past is that Republicans are much funnier than Democrats. I've always found that difficult to fathom. I suppose it comes from the notion that Dems can be so dour, with their constant grousing about the environment and health care and the underprivileged, while GOPs, whose major concerns are how to make and keep more money, are singing "Happy Days Are Here Again." The difference I find is that the left are willing to mock their own, while the right are not. Rush Limbaugh or Bill O'Reilly may disagree with something George Bush says, but rarely, if ever, do they take him to task for it. Jon Stewart mocks those on the right and left equally. Well, not equally. He mocks Kerry for being foolish, and George Bush for being... Oh. Maybe it is equal. In any case, I am hard pressed to come up with a satirist on the right who is willing to take shots at members of their own party, whereas for those on the left, it is de rigeur.

Stewart has been taken to task for his appearance on Crossfire, where, worst of all, he was not funny. Let me say this about that. First, his charges were no surprise to anyone who had ever watched him, so for the hosts to be shocked was disingenuous, at best. (Disingenuousness: Lying for the New Millennium!) (Just as it was disingenuous for members of the Bush camp to "misunderstand" Kerry's use of the phrase "global test" in the debate.) (Jeez, I hate them!) (Oh, and I prefer "disingenuity," but the dictionary won't have it.) The best I can offer is that the hosts can't be blamed for supposing that Stewart's desire to sell his book would outweigh his desire to have his say. Against the second charge - Stewart's verbal inelegance ("You're hurting America") - I have no defense. He's a comic, not a pundit. As he said of his own show: his lead-in is puppets making prank phone calls. But if people who can't express themselves well don't deserve to be heard, someone needs to muzzle the president.

The remainder of my TV love is reserved for Keith Olbermann. Countdown, is another show I never watched until recently. It came across my radar through an article in the Atlantic (?) about the cable news networks, in which his show was given high marks. I second that emotion. Olbermann is smart and articulate, and recognizes that many of those in command are neither. Like Stewart, he leans to the left, but is more balanced than most of the pundits. He is willing, for example, to broadcast poll results which show both candidates in the lead (easy, these days), and regularly has on guests from across the political spectrum. Who he allows to have their say, by the way. Oh, sure, he spent a lot of time on the Bill O'Reilly sex scandal, but that's motivated less by politics than by his undisguised disregard for both O'Reilly and Fox, for whom he once worked.

Countdown got me into bed with MSNBC, which has become my network of choice this political season. In the past, MSNBC was little more to me than the network of Time & Again, a Biography-style program which draws on NBC's vast video records for its footage. Cheap and easy. Just like host Jane Pauley. Or that joke. It is also the network for Hardball, which used to be just another "let's yell at each other" show. Lately, host Chris Matthews has calmed down quite a bit. His show is one of the few news outlets which was critical of the invasion of Iraq from the beginning, which is what first drew me to it. On Iraq, Matthews is to the left of both Bush and Kerry. Which is not to say he's a leftie - he's in love with Dick Cheney. Matthews is an old-school Washington insider, and he has alliances and enmities on both sides of the fence. He is best in small quantities, like caviar or absinthe, but can be bracing. Unlike Joe Scarborough, whose political axe is so enormous he cannot hide it. Yeah, I watched these guys during the conventions (They found the Republican Convention more exciting and engaging, unlike me, who found them both little but hogwash.) and the debates (Their consensus that Kerry won the first debate shocked me. Need I say that was the only debate they thought he won?). Less dry than C-SPAN, less boring than CNN, less infuriating than Fox.

With all this input, it's no surprise I can't sleep at night.

Where's Osama?

2004-10-22T11:00:00.000-05:00

He's all the rage with the kids today, with his scraggly bread and turban, his big round glasses and trademark red and white striped shirt. Can you spot him in this crowded Pakistani bazaar or seemingly empty Afghan cave? Maybe he's in Tibet. Or India. Or even insurgent-happy Iraq! With eight months since his last video message, crazy Osama, now known by his street name of UBL, could be anywhere.

With fewer than a dozen days left until the election, more than a few folks are wondering if he's prepping for his role as the October Surprise. I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. Rove! It's quite possible the Bushies have him on ice somewhere. Maybe even literally on ice, having killed him in active engagement or stumbled across him, dead of failed kidneys, somewhere on the Sino-Indian border. The question for the GOPs is when to reveal the exquisite corpse. After all, Rove told Sean Hannity at the end of September to expect a surprise this month, and there are only 9 days left. Let's hope it's something more substantial than the foolishness over at Sinclair broadcasting.

The venerable history of the October Surprise goes back to those heady days of the fall of 1980. In this case, "fall" means both "Autumn" and "collapse." 52 Americans were held hostage in Iraq and Ronald Reagan and President Carter were battling it out for the White House. Although the release of the hostages was brokered in October of that year, they weren't released until January 20, 1981, the day of Ronald Reagan's inauguration. Some believe that members of the Reagan campaign worked with members of the CIA to delay the release of the hostages, since an immediate release would have helped Carter's reelection effort. Surprise! Though campaigns of both parties have used the Surprise over the years, Karl Rove is the current master of the dirty trick, as he has demonstrated in contests involving Ann Richards, Max Cleland and John McCain.

Obviously, there's no point in announcing the capture or killing of Osama too early. The last thing anyone wants is a bounce that dissipates before election day. Even worse, releasing the news early gives pundits and spin-meisters and journalists - if there are any left in this country - the opportunity to call the ploy a ploy. There's always the possibility of a backlash. As Ross Baker, a political science professor at Rutgers University, says, "Producing a high-level al Qaeda leader would immediately invite suspicion about whether this person has been cooling his heels in a safe house some place." The safest thing to do is to save the announcement until election eve, and hope the masses are great enough asses to overlook the timing and simply perceive you as the saviour you are. Some have gone as far as to say the Bushies don't actually need Osama, they just need a viable corpse. They can simply announce killing a "high ranking al Qaeda official" in Pakistan, and say they need to verify his identification before they can make a statement. By the time he is discovered not to be Osama, on Nov. 3, it's too late.

The other problem with hauling out Osasma's remains too early is that someone like Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the Iraqi beheader who recently announced his alliance with al Qaeda, will annoint himself as leader of the terrorist org. Zarqawi is a young and nimble capo, and just the guy to take over the reins when the old boss retires. On the other hand, Zarqawi is probably not enough of a celeb to the average American that his capture would provide the necessary oomph for a last minute push. There is, of course, the possibility that despite his radio silence, Osama is still on the loose. But as you can see from the above example, saying you've captured Osama and actually capturing Osama is not necessarily the same thing.

Bush is currently saying of Kerry, "he can run, but he can't hide," a bromide he previously applied to Osama bin Laden. Back when he was still thinking about him. John Stewart has observed that so far, bin Laden has been able to do both. We'll see what the next week brings.

*****

The China Daily Website refutes reports that Osama bin Laden is hiding in western China. Their coverage makes me think I'm reading the wrong news outlets. The paper calls a reporter's query about the report "such an outlandish question," and says of bin Laden, "stories about his hiding have been flying around." The article concludes with the proposition that "The report should be carried in the fiction section, which allows flights of fantasy rather than hard facts."

The home page of China Daily features, along with standard National, Business and Sports news, links to two special sections, US Elections and Glorious China. The former carries the same news feeds as Yahoo ("Kids pick Kerry to be the next president," "Bush receives endorsement from Iran"). The latter is 80% Deng Xiaoping. Glorious.

*****

In response to a Weekly Reader story about Christian Spam, one correspondent observed that "Christian One Low Bill sounds like a Chinese dish." I laughed and laughed.

*****

There You Go Again

Teresa Heinz Kerry shot off her mouth about Laura Bush this week, saying "I don't know that she's ever had a real job - I mean, since she's been grown up." After the Bush campaign - in the non-partisan reporting of the New York Times - "pounced on the remark," THK apologized, saying, "I had forgotten that Mrs. Bush had worked as a schoolteacher and librarian, and there couldn't be a more important job than teaching our children." Mrs. Bush graciously accepted, saying there was no need for an apology and that she understood how easy it is to misspeak on the campaign trail. This was not sufficient for Bush bulldog Karen Hughes, who said on CNN, "These kind of comments are an unfortunate way to try to drive a wedge between women who work at home and women who work outside the home. And I think it's just unfortunate to try to disparage women who have made the choice of making their families a priority." Apparently Ms. Hughes is also unaware that Mrs. Bush has worked outside the home. Told that THK had apologized, Hughes said, "the apology also made the comment worse, because she seems to have forgotten that being a mother is a real job." That argument might hold more water had Heinz Kerry not added, "As someone who has been both a full-time mom and full-time in work force, I know we all have valuable experiences that shape who we are."

My heart goes out to Laura Bush. Not for Teresa's comment. But as a former teacher and librarian, and as an advocate for literacy, it must be horrifying to live with three of the least literate people in the country. We all make our deals with the devil.

*****

In Other News ...

Members of George Bush's extended family have come out against his candidacy. A number of them have joined together to create the site, Bush Relatives for Kerry. They are descendants of the sister of Prescott Bush, the father of George H.W. Bush. In other words, their parents are all cousins to the first President Bush. And none of them are invited to the family Christmas party.

The family dynamic comes out most clearly in statement by Chris House, a teacher in Washington state. (Prescott's sister Mary Bush married Francis E. House, Jr.) "Being a son of George Herbert Walker Bush's first cousin, I've been witness to a family that bred itself for leadership. Bushes have made their political mark on a local, national and global level, with mixed success. The thing that troubles me most with this current president is a heightened sense of entitlement. Throughout the 2000 election process, George W. Bush seemed to view his ascendancy as something of a given, something he didn't feel he had to work for along the way, like many others before him. The reigning symptom of this attitude is this: there is a stubborn refusal to look at a given situation in other, possibly more constructive ways. 'I was made for this position - so I've got to be right.'" In other words, George W. Bush has always been a dick.

*****

On the Links page of Bush Relatives for Kerry, there's a link to Librarians Against Bush. It seems ironic that librarians have become the first line of defense for our civil liberties, but such is the case. They were the first ones to speak out against the Patriot Act, leading John Ashcroft to accuse them of "baseless hysteria." Records obtained by the ACLU through the Freedom of Information Act show that, within a month of stating that the sections of the Act that apply directly to libraries, Sections 215 and 216, had never been used, Section 215 was, in fact, used. Baseless hysteria! According to the ACLU, among the documents they obtained is "an internal FBI memo, dated October 29, 2003, acknowledging that Section 215 of the Patriot Act can be used to obtain information about innocent people. The memo contradicts the government's assertion, made repeatedly on the public record, that Section 215 can be used only against suspected terrorists and spies." Baseless!

Being librarians, the librarians cite the Benjamin Franklin quote, "Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both."

*****

Ancestry.com has turned up another relative who opposes George Bush's reelection: John Kerry. The genealogy site has traced the bloodlines of both men back, back, back to the turn of the 17th century, with the union of Edmund Reade (born 1563) and Elizabeth Cooke (born 1578). Among their children were Margaret, born 1598, and Elizabeth, born 1615. Nine generations later on Elizabeth's side, we find John Kerry. Eleven generations down from Margaret comes GWB. This makes them ninth cousins twice removed, or so I am told.

All that this means, of course, is what we already knew: neither of these guys has anything in common with you.

*****

Which is not the case with my family. Since none of us were born with silver spoons in our mouths, we pursue honest professions. We are teachers and mechanics, salesmen and firefighters. And every now and then, one of us ends up on a calendar.

Such is the case with my cousin Charlie, who is featured on the 2005 Chicago Firefighter Calendar. Money raised supports the Ignite the Spirit Fund, which helps firefighters care for their own by providing funds to them and their families in times of need. You can learn more about the Fund through their website. While you're there, pick up a calendar. Or hobnob with the firefighters in the flesh at the Calendar Release Party, next Tuesday, October 26 at Tilli's, 1952 N. Halsted, in Chicago.

*****

Halloween is right around the corner, which means Monsterfest begins this Sunday on AMC. Along with all the Omen, Halloween and Amityville Horror sequels you can choke down, there's the occasional classic (The Fly) or oddity (Prophecy, They Live). Universal must have reclaimed the rights to their original horror classics, but you can still see John Travolta melt in the Devil's Rain. And there's a whole day of Godzilla.

*****

Or a whole weekend. October 28 to 30 sees Godzillafest come to the University of Kansas. Organized by history professor Bill Tsutsui, the conference "In Godzilla's Footsteps: Japanese Pop Culture Icons on the Global Stage," celebrates the 50th anniversary of the release of the original Gojira, which will be screened. In addition to the film festival, the conference features exhibitions at the University's library and museums of natural history and art, as well as speakers from Harvard, Duke and Vanderbilt University. Hopefully no one will address one of the professors in a panel discussion by saying, "Doctah! Rook!"

According to the website, "All events are free, because that's how Godzilla would want it."

It's Drafty in Here

2004-10-15T11:33:00.000-05:00

George Bush and John Kerry cheerfully lied during the recent debates. When asked, both men took the opportunity to categorically deny they had plans to reinstate the draft. This stance is understandable for a candidate. It's hard to win a mother's vote by admitting you're planning to send her child off to war. Much less the child's. George Bush takes pride in his all volunteer army, despite the fact that many of his soldiers volunteered merely to play weekend warrior, rather than to be shipped off to fight a real (if undeclared) war. When he praises the professionalism of the actual recruits, I think, "These are guys who couldn't get another job." Odds are good these volunteers - both willing and un - will be joined in the not too distant future by bands of draftees. The reason is simple: we're running out of bodies.

One of the many, many (many many many) reasons I would never be elected to office, is that if asked if I would reinstate the draft, I would reply, "Hell, yeah." And not just because of our current commitment in Iraq. To echo our President, "Bring it on!"

This stance may come as a surprise to people who know me. I never served in the military, and was happy not to. I was one of those lucky American boys who fell through the cracks, born too late to register for Vietnam, yet too early to register with Selective Service when it was reinstated in 1980.

And yet, looking back from the safety of the present, I can't help but wonder if a stint in the service wouldn't have been good for me. At 18, I was a smart kid with some vague ideas about what he wanted to do with his life, but neither the discipline nor drive to make those things happen. Some years later, much of that description still applies. I'm currently teaching college classes, and many of my students would benefit from a couple of years of having their asses kicked.

So here it is. I believe in compulsory military service for every young man and woman in the US between the ages of 18 and 21.

Really.

Most military experts say the optimal size of US forces should be 2 million. Under our current system, and including the reserves, we are at just under 1.5 million. Things are so bad in Iraq right now that volunteers in the National Guard are being forced to reenlist when their tours are up, and discharged soldiers are being called back into duty.

According to the 2000 census, there are just over 12 million men and woman between the ages of 18 and 21 in the US. Even if half of those are unable to serve - because they are physically, mentally or emotionally "other abled," or because they are incarcerated - that still leaves a pool of 6 million. Assume they are fairly evenly distributed along the age range, and that gives you 2 million 18 year olds right off the bat. More than enough.

And yes, I said men and women. I'm not talking about a draft for young men. I'm talking everyone.

Not that I'm looking to ship these kids off to Iraq. I'd be happy if we could pull all our forces out of Iraq tomorrow. But that's not gonna happen. As we all know, we will always maintain a presence in Iraq. (We have always been at war with Eurasia.) Just as we maintain a presence in South Korea, Japan and Germany, not to mention throughout the Middle East and across the globe with NATO. It does give me pause that if tempers should suddenly flare in Iran or North Korea, or any of a dozen hot spots in the world, we are simply understaffed to respond. But my reasons for wanting to draft everybody have to do with national security in a greater sense than fighting wars overseas.

It's good for them and it's good for us.

The three greatest problems facing our nation today are education, jobs and security. I know this because I've had it shoved down my throat daily for the past year. Universal military service could go some way to addressing all these issues.

Most high school graduates (or dropouts) today face one of two options: go to college or take a low paying job. At the same time, most college freshmen are woefully unprepared for college. This may not be the case in some of the larger and more expensive universities, but I doubt it. (Nor do I believe that this is a new problem. I observed many of the same problems when I was in grad school in 1983.) First, they don't have the discipline for college. This is not unusual in an 18 year old, who rarely has the discipline for anything. And since they are products of our crumbling educational system, they have not been taught how to learn, either because nobody expected it of them, or because it was easy enough to circumvent the system.

Military service isn't going to create a race of Einsteins. But living in a world in which there are consequences for not carrying out tasks would surely have a positive effect on some of these slackers. In addition, the military could essentially be a place where kids who leave school early are literally forced to get their GEDs. Hey, it's better than facing active duty! One of the main reasons kids don't learn or leave school early is that there's nothing there that catches their attention. Trapped in the service for a few years, and surrounded by opportunities, there's at least a potential for growth. A kid may discover an interest in computers he never knew he had, because he was never exposed to it in a practical manner. Or electronics. Or language. Or cooking, for god's sake. They'll have to do something while they're serving, and an interest in anything is better than an interest in nothing. As the job market continues to change, here's an opportunity to teach our kids useful skills that they may actually be able to use once they're out of the service and on their own. If nothing else, they'll have the experience of going through some sort of job training, which will make the next experience that much easier to benefit from.

Our youth are not only alienated, they are isolated. Kids (and adults for that matter) spend their days surrounded by people who are just like them. Xenohobia and ethnocentrism are natural human conditions. We are wary of people who are not like us, and we believe that all right minded people think just like us. If you grow up on the plains of Wyoming, or a small town in Alabama, or the South Side of Chicago, that's understandable. So why not pluck kids out of their safe environments and toss them in with a bunch of strangers miles from home? Kids who leave home for college experience the benefit of meeting people who come from backgrounds different from theirs, sometimes radically. Let's offer that experience to kids who can't afford, or don't choose, to go off to school. I'm not suggesting that everyone comes out of the service as a multiculturalist. But I do suggest that most people in this country live in a very small world, and allowing them to meet people from other backgrounds, not to mention other nations, might actually open their eyes to the possibility that life is more complex than they think.

There's a practical sense to all this military training as well. Expanding the armed forces to this degree provides us with more than enough service personnel for our needs across the globe. What do we do with the rest? Hello, homeland security. The biggest problem with having the National Guard overseas is that we don't have them here. Rather than invading Iraq, I would have been much happier to see the Guard called up to handle security at airports. Right now, we still have Lakeisha going through our bags while trying not to chip her French manicure. Why not have real security at airports, with staff who have been professionally trained for this sort of work? Despite what George Bush believes, reports state that our borders are more porous than ever. Border patrol, here we come! Everyone but the President is concerned about the lack of security at our chemical and nuclear plants. Not to mention nucuclar facilities. Rather than depending on Rent-a-Cops, let's get some soldiers around those terror traps. We need to examine incoming cargo containers? Hell, we've got a couple million freshly trained recruits on the job!

Then there's the guns. Since we're such a gun crazy society to begin with, let's teach kids how to use their weapons. Maybe giving them some actual lessons, and making them responsible for the proper care and maintenance of their weapon, will instill some degree of respect for firearms, as well as actual knowledge to how they work. Gun rights activists point to the Second Amendment to support their right to bear arms. They skip the first part of the Amendment, which says the people are allowed to keep and bear arms because, "A well-regulated Militia [is] necessary to the security of a free State." I've long said that gun owners should, therefore, be trained as part of "a well-regulated Militia." They should have been the ones called up and sent overseas, since they are self admitted members of the Militia. By training our youth to properly use arms, we will have a Militia at the ready. And maybe a few less accidental shootings.

The final benefit is a bit less concrete. George Bush speaks of an "ownership society." By that, he means people who own stuff. Protecting your stuff being the root of Republican beliefs. When I think of an ownership society, I think of people believing they have a stake in the society, and a responsibility for it. It's no surprise to me that veterans' groups are so strong. These are men and women who made a commitment to their country. Forcing people to serve their nation may not seem to be the best way to invest them in their nation's future. Almost everyone will go in kicking and screaming. But once they're in, and actually doing something worthwhile, and working together as a group, some sense of pride is bound to develop. And after a couple of years, they may actually feel they've done something of value. Which, for most kids in this country, is a big deal.

There is, of course, only one way this works. No deferments. I would be willing to make exceptions for anyone who is a family's primary wage earner, and possibly for children of farmers whose presence at home was required. But that's it. College can wait. This being America, strings would still be pulled to get the scions of wealthy clans plum assignments. But no one gets out.

The idea is flawed. One need only point to George Bush, who served in the Air Guard. Despite this, whenever the opportunity has arisen, he has made a commitment to himself rather than to his country. But his service was one of convenience, which he carried out where and when he chose, and from which he resigned early, having had enough. (None of this is disputed by the White House.) I don't expect such cases to disappear overnight. But after some years of universal conscription, Americans will begin to take pride in their service. And at that time, even wealthy and powerful families will find it a matter of pride to have their children serve. As it has been in other nations at other times.

And the pigs will fly freely through the skies...

Debatable

2004-10-08T13:16:00.000-05:00

Tonight is the second Presidential debate. The one which nobody is going to watch, because it's scheduled for a Friday night. The one which George Bush is expected to win because it's a format he enjoys, at least if the guest list is limited, and the questions have been vetted ahead of time, and if anyone strays from the approved question, they're cut off. Which is pretty much what the rules dictate. Of course, he was supposed to win last week's debate as well, and we all saw how that turned out.

Tuesday of this week saw the Cheney/Edwards debate. Immediate response to who "won" seemed split, with most choosing Cheney. In general, I found it a tossup, with Cheney having the edge. He seemed more in command of the facts than Bush had been, which is not surprising, considering that he's more directly involved in making and carrying out policy than Bush is. Granted, his "facts" were fairly specious - as, indeed, were many of Edwards' - but he presented them with some conviction. Edwards came off as a bit of a simpering fool, suffering in his reaction shots nearly as much as Bush had, though in a different way. Whereas Bush seemed angry and annoyed, in trying to be gracious Edwards seemed absent, like a student listening to a teacher lecture, all the while thinking, "Get on with it, for god's sake, I gotta meet the gang over at the Brew 'n Chew."

Not that I can blame Edwards. Were I there, I would probably have had a similar expression on my face. The clear loser in this debate was the American people. News reports would have you believe that this debate was a slugfest, with both candidates scoring points off the other and coming back for more. To me, it was exactly what you would expect from a debate between a CEO and a lawyer: a giant snoozefest. Cheney is an articulate, but not particularly lively, speaker. He makes his points in serial, like an exec arguing why his division should upgrade their CRM system. There's not much passion there. I'm not surprised he has a gay daughter; Cheney is as close to being a lesbian as a straight man comes. Edwards, on the other hand, is usually a lot more animated. He must be somewhat aggressive, to have won a number of high payday lawsuits, but that's something we haven't seen much lately. Still, on the stump he's pretty high energy. Sitting behind the debating table, that energy was gone. After a while, he even began to take on Cheney's trademark head loll. At times, I feared both of them would disappear at opposite ends of the split screen. When my phone rang at 9:15, I did something I never do during political speeches: I took the call, grateful for the intrusion.

Part of Edwards' weakness was his role as Kerry point man. He rarely seemed to be speaking for himself, or even for the broader ticket of him and Kerry. In attacking the Administration's policies and failures (redundant?), he was perfectly articulate. But in putting forth the views of his ticket, he constantly spoke of what John Kerry would do. A few "we's" - and even an I now and then - would have gone miles to making him seem more independent. Things got so bad that when moderator Gwen Ifill asked the VP candidates to explain what makes them different without invoking their running mates' name, Edwards couldn't do it. This was just one instance of his pathological inability to answer the question asked, rather than reverting back to canned remarks. When asked how he and Kerry would unite the nation - a perfect opening for reassuring pablum or a scathing attack - he spoke about health care.

Not that Cheney was much better. Both candidates came prepped with stock responses which stuck close to what we've been hearing for months, and neither deviated much. At times it was difficult to remember what the question was. Both candidates resorted to what may charitably be called "untruths," though it is here that Cheney truly won on points. Immediately following the debate, the truth of his never having met Edwards came to light. What has received less play is that, not counting joint sessions for States of the Union and such, Cheney actually presided over the Senate only 3 times in 2003, each time as a result of his vote being needed to break a tie. As far as Tuesdays go, Cheney has presided over the Senate on a Tuesday twice in the past four years. (Ironically, Edwards has presided the same number of Tuesdays in that same period.) Cheney is indeed at the Senate every Tuesday: for the weekly Republican strategy lunches. Needless to say, Edwards is not invited.

Cheney accused Edwards - correctly - of poor attendance during this past campaign season. This is pretty much standard operating procedure during elections. How much time has Bush spent at the White House over the past few months? For the first time in years, Cheney's location is regularly disclosed. He overstepped the truth, however, by claiming Edwards' "hometown newspaper has taken to calling [him] 'Senator Gone.'" Edwards' hometown paper, The News & Observer, was hard pressed to find the remark. That's because it came from The Pilot, which is published three times a week in a town 20 miles away. And which refutes Cheney's remark. In one editorial in the summer of 2003, the paper suggested Edwards should spend more time in Washington and said, "John Edwards is becoming known as Senator Gone." The writer of the editorial remarked on the paper's website, "I don't think it was at all accurate to say we have 'taken to calling' the senator anything. This was a one-time reference in an editorial that appeared 15 months ago."

As I'm sure everyone knows by now, Cheney's suggestion that viewers check out the truth of Edwards' statements about him at "factcheck.com" sent a number of surfers to GeorgeSoros.com, which leads with the headline, "Why We Must Not Re-Elect President Bush." Contrary to popular belief, that site (factcheck.com) was not snatched up at the last minute, but has been registered since February 4. Nor was the site hacked. The owner chose to redirect traffic. Not that it makes much of a difference. Factcheck.org, the site Cheney was trying to reference, says on its site that Cheney "wrongly implied that we had rebutted allegations Edwards was making about what Cheney had done as chief executive officer of Halliburton." They go on to say that Edwards' facts were substantially correct, only misspeaking by saying Halliburton "paid millions of dollars in fines" while he was CEO. Halliburton did not pay those fines while Cheney was CEO, but instead paid fines for offenses it committed while Cheney was CEO. In fact, Halliburton settled charges with the SEC just this summer for an additional $7.5 million, to cover offenses dating back to Cheney's leadership.

Heads will roll at the Cheney camp. And Cheney is just the kinda guy to roll 'em.

Debatable, II

2004-10-08T11:19:00.000-05:00

I missed recapping last week's Bush/Kerry deathmatch because of my desire to get out of town. I'm not going to go into it now. At least not in detail.

I thought it was clear John Kerry won the first debate. At the same time, I was amazed to find most members of the media (with the notable absence of Fox News) agreeing with me. Even uber-con Joe Scarborough had to admit Bush blew it.

And that's what it really comes down. I was ready for Kerry to sink like a stone. I figured he would be stiff, his language and logic would be convoluted, and that he'd continually run over the time limit. Instead, I found him strong and clear. I've been impatient with Kerry in recent weeks, but at the debate I thought he was in good form. Granted, neither he nor Bush answered questions that didn't suit their needs, instead resorting to pre-screened responses they could shoehorn in, but that seems to be SOP this political season.

Bush, on the other hand, beat himself. I'm teaching a public speaking course this semester, and that Thursday we were discussing delivery. Bush fell into nearly every trap I warn my students against. His people tell us that he's not running for President of the Debating Team. But these weren't debating errors, they were common public speaking errors. Bush is no Great Communicator, but he's usually good in front of crowds. Better than John Kerry. Not last Thursday.

Rule One: Do not lean on the podium. Speakers like to do this, thinking it makes them look folksy and relaxed. And if you're Bill Clinton, maybe you can pull it off. But 9 times out of 10 it makes you look weak. Bush was not just leaning on the podium, he was leaning into it. His shoulders were hunched, and it looked like he needed the podium for support. Kerry, on the other hand, stood tall. Without saying a word, he looked more in control than Bush.

Rule Two: Watch the water. I didn't notice this as much as other commentators, who scored it, Kerry: one sip, Bush: four glasses. Be sure you're properly hydrated before you start. Constantly reaching for the water makes you look nervous and unsure of yourself. This plagued John Edwards on Tuesday. (That and the camel tongue that lolled out following every sip.) Drinking water is the corollary to flop sweat. You look guilty.

Rule Three: Don't apologize. Saying "It's hard work" once is recognition of the daunting task ahead of us. Saying it 11 times (by Joe Scarborough's count on MSNBC) makes you seem like you're not up for the job. This is similar to telling your audience, "I'm really nervous." We would be nervous, but we don't want you to be.

Rule Four: Say what you have to say. Then stop. One of the reasons Cheney was successful was that he didn't feel a need to fill the entire two minutes or ninety seconds. Better to be clear and finished than long-winded and muddy. Or worse, to run out of time because your second, unrelated point, takes too long. Or even worse, to jump in and then have nothing to say. Let the moderator decide - according to the rules you devised - when to allow the additional 30 seconds. Otherwise you look desperate.

All Purpose Rule Five: Nonverbal communication trumps verbal communication every time. According to research, listeners derive anywhere from 55 to 90 percent of meaning from delivery. People believe nonverbal cues over verbal ones. Remember that next time you tell your spouse you love them or they look good in that dress or you're listening when you're really watching The Apprentice. Types of nonverbal cues? Facial expressions. There's nothing more I need to say here. Makeup. For all the jibes about Kerry's "tan," on Thursday, W was the one who looked orange. P-a-u-s-e-s. Pauses can be used for effect. They will have an effect whether you choose or not. Eye contact. In particular, excessive blinking. Okay, maybe this one is a bit unfair. It's hard to control. But like it or not, it has an effect, particularly on camera. This tip comes from Michael Caine's "Acting on Film." He instructs actors that keeping strong, solid eye contact with the camera makes you look strong, while blinking makes you look weak. When you see him demonstrate this, it's very clear. Bush blinked constantly during some of his answers. Watch your tape or TiVo. It's not something you'd notice consciously (unless, like me, you've recently had it pointed out), but you do notice it unconsciously, and it makes the speaker look weak and shifty.

One final thing killed Bush, and it's something that was decided as part of the rules. (By the by, if you haven't heard, the rules for these debates are longer than the Salt II treaty.) No applause. At the beginning of the evening - as on Tuesday - Jim Lehrer announced the audience was instructed not to respond. Feedback is important for all public speakers. It allows you to judge what effect you're having on your audience. For someone like Bush, who is desperate for approval, it's key. As the night wore on and he continued to get no response, you saw him sink deeper and deeper into depression. No matter that Kerry wasn't getting any response either. Bush has been training at these staged "town halls" where he's fed off the applause. This is one reason why he should do much better tonight.

Until the first "boo." If Kerry gets a big response, watch for Bush's reaction. And if Bush receives the slightest heckle (something Kerry is used to by now, since his public appearances are truly public), watch him go nuts.

Now I'm getting excited.

Reality Bites

2004-10-07T13:22:00.000-05:00

Bush and Cheney have both kind of admitted that Saddam Hussein had no weapons of mass destruction, and found a new reason for the war - Saddam's abuse of the UN oil-for-food program. Cheney went so far as to say, "The headlines all say 'no weapons of mass destruction stockpiled in Baghdad.' We already knew that." Really? When? This follows on the heels of Donald Rumsfeld inadvertently telling the truth when he said of the connection between Saddam Hussein and al-Qaida, "To my knowledge, I have not seen any strong, hard evidence that links the two." After a quick bitch-slapping, he rescinded his statement.

Sound Bites

2004-10-07T13:20:00.000-05:00

Kerry and Edwards both drive me crazy through their inability to come up with the appropriate sound bite. When Edwards' inexperience is brought up, as it was by Cheney during the debate, all he needs to do is remind people that he has spent as much time in public service - six years - as George Bush had when he was elected President. If people counter that Bush served in an executive position, Edwards need merely counter that he has served in national government. When Kerry is accused of voting for the war - actually the resolution which led to the war - he needs to say, "I voted to give the President the authority because I trusted him to do the right thing. He proved himself unworthy of that trust."

Jeez, guys, you're the politicians!

Rodney Dangerfield's on the roof and we can't get him down

2004-10-06T13:28:00.000-05:00

The comic died this week from complications following heart surgery. Or complications following 82 years of living life as Rodney Dangerfield. We should all be so lucky.

Or so prepared. As my title suggests, this train was a long time comin'. His recent heart surgery was the latest in a series of health problems. He had a heart attack on his 80th birthday nearly three years ago. Last year, he went in for brain surgery in order to prep for the valve replacement surgery he entered the hospital for this August. Going back into the hospital, he said something like, "If all goes well, I'll be there for a couple of weeks. If things go badly, I'll be there for an hour and a half."

Things went badly.

First came the news that Dangerfield had suffered a stroke. Then that he had slipped into a coma. Much as he used to slip into a robe at his nightclub, I suppose. A few weeks ago, his wife released a statement that the coma was "light," and that he was expected to fully emerge. Yesterday, they rang down the curtain.

Dangerfield joins Janet "Psycho" Leigh and Gordo "Right Stuff" Cooper as the latest entries in the Celebrity Dead Pool. There may have been stranger trios approaching the Pearly Gates, but not in recent memory.

Here's hoping you're doing well.

Roullez les Bonne Temps

2004-10-04T13:24:00.000-05:00

As you may or may not know, I was in New Orleans this past weekend. As you may be shocked to discover, this was my first visit.

I ended up in Nawlins as part of a group celebrating my sister's 50th birthday. The whole shindig was arranged by my sister-in-law as a surprise. She was in the Big Easy on business, and convinced Sis Bliss to join her for the weekend. Little did Sis expect that when she reached O'Hare, she would be met by me and two couples from Indiana - where she used to live - all flying down with her. Or that another couple would be there when we landed. My sister is the gullible sort, so it was not difficult for her spouse to convince her that flying through Chicago would be the best way to go to Nawlins.

Having written it that way twice, let me assure you that I am not someone who really calls Nawlins Nawlins, except in jest. The closest I'll come is Norlins, and that's just to keep purists off my back. But "House of the Rising Sun" (or "House of the Rising Son," as our tour guide called it) clearly pronounces it with three syllables, even in the Leadbelly version. And rhymes New Orleans with blue jeans, for godsake. But folk who would never dream of calling the state in which the city is located Looziana or its neighbor Missourah insist that New Orleans is really pronounced Nawlins. 'Cause that's how the locals say it. Yeah, they also say gah-rone-tee. And people in Bridgeport call my city Chicahgo. And residents of the Big Apple call it The City. But that's not changing my mind.

I digress.

We flew down on United's new "no frills" carrier, Ted. I don't remember the last time I saw a frill on an airplane. The best thing I can say about Ted is that it's better than ATA. The seats are wide enough to wedge my oversized derriere into without a shoehorn, and I didn't need a seatbelt extender. Yes, I'm that big. Food, of course, is non-existent - a bag of minipretzels'll have to do ya. But if you can't manage a two hour flight without a snack, I don't know how you make it through the morning. "Entertainment" consists of NBC snippets on a flip down video monitor, but if you can't manage two hours without TV, I don't know how you make it through life. On the way down, we had the delight of a running commentary by a bored crew member trying to keep us and himself amused. I do not hold him directly responsible for the death of Rodney Dangerfield, but comedy is on thin ground. Or air, as the case may be. Apparently this in-flight shtick is something United has stolen from Southwest, whose slogan should be, "You are free to roam about the country … and kill yourself." The guy didn't end his routine by telling us to tip our waitress, but I'm sure that was an oversight.

Wow. "Shtick" is in Word's dictionary.

Our first night in le Grand Facile, one of the couples and I headed over to Bourbon Street. Not wishing to appear excessively touristy, I got some recommendations of places to go from the woman working the front desk. (Behind the desk. Get your mind out of the gutter.) When our cab came, the woman with me asked the driver to take us to Bourbon Street, but I, ever the sophisticate, said, "The Famous Door sounds like a good place to start."

"I'll take you to Canal and Bourbon," was his rejoinder.

In my naiveté, I imagined Bourbon Street was like Halsted Street or Fifth Avenue or the Rue Morgue. You don't just go there; you go somewhere, and from there, find your way to the rest of it. Little did I realize - especially on that first night - that it is more like Main Street USA at Disneyland/World. There are no cars on Bourbon Street; it is all but a pedestrian mall. Streets cross Bourbon, but driving them after 6 pm in an exercise in futility. Our cabbie essentially dropped us off at the beginning of it and left us to find our way to rack and ruin.

Which was easy.

Getting to Bourbon Street was the adventure. Our hotel - the lovely Marriott SpringHill Suites - is located in the warehouse/ gallery/theater district, not far from the southish end of the Riverwalk. The best way to get to Bourbon Street, apparently, is through a series of perilously narrow streets and alleys never made for this sort of traffic. New Orleans is one of those cities which has grown too big for its britches. There are a handful of what one would consider two lane streets, and even the occasional four lane superhighway, but most of the city is meant to accommodate knife grinders, mules and hearses. If they park at all, people park on the sidewalk, which is the only safe place. So off we went, tearing down access roads between warehouses intended to make Yankees quake.

On entering New Orleans, I was warned of the smell. Cedar Rapids, Iowa, is called the City of Five Smells, because of the various food processing plants there. They have New Orleans beat by two. Much of the time, you don't notice anything. Then an incredible stench of urine or vomit or excrement (generally, but not always, animal) will overtake you. Bourbon Street is a panoply of them all.

This part of the city has two main products, which are inherently linked: Booze and Sex. Booze is everywhere. Not just bars, though those of course, but traveling booze. If in some cities it is against the law to carry open liquor, on Bourbon Street it is against the law not to. Everyone has their Hurricane or Hand Grenade or at least 40 ouncer. I saw one guy with a bottle of Lite beer that was a gallon if it was a day. Pat O'Brian's seems to be the only bar which serves liquor in glass. More on that later. Saloons have minibars which face the street, just to serve drinks to pedestrians. Some wily entrepreneurs have set up in what seem to be hallways, just large enough for them and a stock a hooch. It is a street of conspicuous consumption.

We eventually made it to the Famous Door, where the first thing which greeted us was a barmaid in a short top and shorter shorts selling shots in test tubes. Only 2 bucks, so I had to buy three. "Sweet or strong?" It was early, so I chose sweet. She asked me if I was alone - catching on that my companions were together, but not doubting that we might have been a threesome - and when I said I was, she put the rounded end of the test tube in her own mouth, so that she could feed me the shot. In theory, I didn't have to grabs her ass as I was squatting down to take the liquor, but when in Rome. After I downed the shot she popped the test tube into the air, caught it and returned in to its holder. She then handed a shot to my female companion, who she instructed to take the shot into her mouth, but not swallow, so that she could feed it to her husband. The final shot she tucked into the waist of his pants, whence his wife was instructed to drink it.

This was our first drink on Bourbon Street. And a sign of how intricately linked Booze and Sex are on that thoroughfare.

Everyone on Bourbon Street is looking to get laid. Or looking to convince others they can get laid. No - they will get laid. And yet, for all that sexual energy, it is a place of great camaraderie. Oh sure, women are objectified in every square inch of the place, but women there revel in their objectification in a way they wouldn't be willing to do in a more "sophisticated" setting. Out on the street, they're baring their breasts for fifty cents in cheap beads, and inside they're shaking what their mommas gave them. They have the power, should they choose to recognize and exploit it. Some of them wear brides' veils with their bustiers and 3 inch spikes, mocking patrimony and their own desires. Not that they're all in on the joke. There's plenty of desperate living going on. But they can be as sexual as they want to be, safe in the knowledge that there's a bigger whore in the next bar down.

At the same time, I've never seen so many feminized men in all my life. Not fags and drag queens - straight men. Granted, the booze has a lot to do with it. But a lot of the fronts are down. I'm sure there's plenty of aggression out there somewhere, but I didn't see it. Everyone's just looking to have a good time. Some of that good time involves making out with strangers. And crouching on its left shoulder is sexual desperation. But in the meantime they're happy to be with other men and women and groups and girlfriends and yes, even spouses, just laughing and singing and throwing beads for titties. Carousing. In the way men of purpose rarely do.

But then, New Orleans isn't about men of purpose. It's about white - and black - trash. And mulattos and quadroons and octoroons and I don't know what all. New Orleans has such a history of people acting shamefully, that now that's the only way they know how to act. Or care to. In touring the French Quarter the next day, we saw beautifully maintained historic properties next to ramshackle dwellings ready to collapse. Work ethic is not in its blood. And out on Bourbon Street, folks are acting the way they wouldn't in front of their mother. That's what they came for. We ended up at the Cat's Meow, a sort of sing-along karaoke bar, where I learned first hand why girls shouldn't try to sing Madonna songs. And outside the window, the girls weren't the only ones showing their business for beads. By this time it was after 2, and it seemed like barely midnight. We left, not because we were so drunk (we weren't), but because we had to be up for the aforementioned French Quarter tour scheduled for 10 the next morning.

On the way back to the hotel, I asked the cab driver when the bars close. "When everyone goes home," he replied.

The Passion of the SPAM

2004-09-10T11:18:00.000-05:00

Anyone who has been on the Internet for more than, say, five minutes is familiar with the wonders of spam. Unbidden, it comes to you, offering a world of free TVs, instant cash, and sexual activities that would make Larry Flynt blanch. I have one email address which is dedicated to nothing but spam. Whenever I need to provide an eddress at a site that I imagine is bound to loose the floodgates of junk mail, I use this Yahoo address. There's a lot I hate about Yahoo, but since they now provide 100mb of storage, and don't count your Bulk Mail (i.e. crap) against your limit, their webmail service is perfect for this use.

Now that all my junk mail - 40 or more messages a day - is gathered in one place, I've become somewhat fascinated by it. The obvious question is, "Who is falling for this crap?" As P.T. Barnum told us, there's a sucker born every minute (or maybe it was a competitor, David Hannum, or perhaps yet another con man of the era, "Paper Collar" Joe Bessimer), and as W.C. Fields elaborated, "Never give a sucker an even break or smarten up a chump." The theory is that if you send out enough messages, and even a tiny fraction of your marks bite, you'll turn a profit. And if someone's offering you free money or sexy singles in your area or even NFL pilsner glasses, the desire to bite may seem insurmountable.

Unless you've already seen the exact same message 50 times!

My interest is not in the economic theory behind spam, but in its ebb and flow. New messages appear as old messages drift away, perhaps simply on hiatus, perhaps gone for good. Sure, there are the classics: "Increase the size and girth of your penis;" "Young Teen Virgins;" "Find your Dream Date today." There are the electronic versions of direct mail offers from music clubs and credit card companies. There are the scams from "CitiBank" that ask you to confirm your password and PIN. There's anything labeled "SEXUALLY EXPLICIT," as if you wouldn't notice the message were it not in ALL CAPS. But new pitches arise daily. For example, Christy Cream (no relation to the pastry) is apparently the new porn star du jour, as I've seen her name appearing frequently in my spam. I've been getting a lot of offers for "free" wine lately. Is this a result of my online activities or just a new marketer in the mix? It's hard to tell. Viagra has dropped way down, no pun intended. With very little effort, it seems I could be swimming in free iPods, laptops and flat screen TVs, not to mention all the barbecue and ice cream I can eat.

And the big one, Christian Debt Relief.

For the past two to three months, my mailbox has been awash in offers to eliminate my bills the Christian way. Some of these money changers, such as the Christian Debt Advisor and the Christian Lending Network, turn up in my box anywhere from once a week to every day. Some, such as Christian Debt Removers, appear not under their own name but such pseudonyms as Spectacular Planet and WideOpenDream. But they're all selling the same thing: freedom from want, with a Gospel swing.

What makes Christian financial advisors different from their heathen counterparts? For one, their advertising. When you click on a message from Christian Debt Advisor, for example, there's an image of a man in field with his arms outstretched, in a pose that could imply financial freedom or Christ on the cross. They underscore their motto - "Debt management services based on Christian values" - with a quote from Matthew 6:12 (the Lord's Prayer): "And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors." This is not Catholic debt management, or the quote would be, "And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us." Perhaps that's reserved for Christian legal advice. In a telling moment, the link you click to be removed from the list begins, "TailWaggingOffer," implying that these Christians are not so removed from other spam artists as they might wish us to believe.

When you click on the ad - in a journey that includes 38.moosq.com (their marketing mask) and login.tracking101.com - you are taken to the sign in page for christiandebtadvisor.com. You can tell you are among Christians by 1) the color scheme of Virgin Mary blue and white, 2) the three robin's egg blue crosses in the upper left corner, 3) the line drawing in the upper right corner of two figures, one kneeling and one standing, possibly Jesus and Mary or maybe Ebenezer Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, and 4) the smiling young Christian family of Mommy, Daddy, Baby and Two Dogs. Hey, if you're so far in debt, you might want to cut back on the pets. You can't get any information about Christian debt relief unless you provide your contact information, including email address and home phone number, and have a minimum of $5000 unsecured debt. At this site, proselytizing comes at a price.

Several of these organizations represent the same business. Christian Lending Network (Christian Lenders - Christian Principles), Christian One Low Bill (Eliminate financial payments the Christian way) and Christian Debt Removers (Remove your bills the Christian way) all link to dci-services.com and all list an operating address of 11787 Bayou Lane, Boca Raton, Florida. CLN quotes from Psalms (112:5 "God will come to him who is generous and lends freely"), CDR from Proverbs (22:7 "the borrower is a slave to the lender") and Romans (13:8 "Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another"). No one cites my favorite Proverb (26:27), which has more to do with Wile E. Coyote than debt relief: "He who digs a pit will fall into it, / And he who rolls a stone, it will come back on him." The pit certainly applies. COLB offers to "eliminate one of Satan's best weapons ... your debt." Christian One Low Bill does the best job of bringing Christ into Christian debt relief. Their site is decidedly low-tech, but it prominently features a stained glass Jesus, the C in Christian wears a halo raked at a jaunty angle, and in addition to the Satan line they promise to help you "Travel a path to better choices," "Lead a simpler, happier life" and "Destroy temptations due to your current debt situation." How can you say no?

Unlike Christian Debt Advisor, Christian One Low Bill and Christian Debt Removers offer some information up front, in their (identical) About Us, FAQ and Facts About Debt pages. These pages are the standard boilerplate you'd read on any debt relief site, with some exceptions in Facts About Debt. Here you'll learn that "A majority of churches in the US are struggling financially because their members are struggling financially." Thus, at last, the rationale behind Christian debt consolidation! God, we are told, knows what you need, and will provide the things you need but can't afford. Unfortunately, this does not include that new TiVo. Visitors are told to "make all financial decisions based on the principles of God's Word, not the 'wisdom' of the world." For many, I suspect this would lead to commitments to poverty and charity they're not quite ready to undertake.

The Christian Lending Network is not about debt consolidation, but home loans, from 2nd mortgages and refinancing to home equity loans. They require a minimum purchase of $200,000, proposing a closer link between God and mammon than I think either would appreciate. Their biggest competitor is ChristianMortgageUSA.com, which takes the extra step of invoking both God and Country, with a crucifix on an American flag. CMU's debt relief arm (these two services always seem to go arm in arm) is Christian Debt Helpers, which adds a Bible to the mix of cross and flag. None of these sites offer much information before you make a commitment, and while CLN seems to offer a free quote on their home page, they require all your contact information before you can proceed.

There's no reason why organizations and businesses that identify themselves as Christian owned and operated should not offer debt consolidation and other forms of loans. I'm not sure exactly how I ended up on their lists, outside of the fact that they are marketing their products as aggressively as your average smut peddler. And after looking through their site, I'm still not sure which Christian principles apply to debt reduction. We can be pretty certain, under these circumstances, that "Christian" means "Evangelical," and we all know that that arm of the faith is particularly good at amassing wealth. So it's fairly natural that they should decide to go into this sort of work.

I'm just not sure it's God's work.

*****

Once I'm finished refinancing my mortgage and consolidating my debt, it's time to kick back and relax. And where better than the Christian Café? (All Christian. All Single.) This "premiere Christian singles site" tells us that "250,000 Christian Singles Can't be wrong." Wait a minute! Didn't that line refer to Brigitte Bardot? And before that, some burlesque star? I can't place the reference, but the copywriter for the Christian Café doesn't even know there is a reference. Unless this is an example of Evangelical Christianity's well known sense of irony. Uh, no. The Christian Café is like any other dating site, except that in addition to posting your photo and profile, you can also post a prayer. Whatever humps your camel. Their main competitor, which is also sending me emails, is a site called Where Christians Meet, with the "t" presented as a cross. Of course. This site requires not only a minimum age of 25, but a minimum income of $25,000. In case you want to consolidate your debt or refinance your home as your relationship progresses, I suppose.

*****

Most of the Christian spam is sent out under names which relate to the product: Christian Dating, Church Love, Where Christians Meet. Christian Bill Removers, Christian Debt Advisor, Christian Lending Network. Such is not the case, of course, with standard spam. Some of the names are nonsense (abscetl@bigpond.com), some could be anything (americanoffergroup), some are fake names (Craig Kerr, Haley Fritz). Recently, some spammers have taken to utilizing a name generator of which I am particularly fond. It is the Li'l Abner, or perhaps Pogo, name generator.

How this program works is that it takes multisyllabic English words, sometimes less-than-common ones, though not always, and separates them with an initial. Generally the names are both nouns, but adjectives have been known to make an appearance. Thus, you end up with such names as Industrial F. Noncombatant (that's Mister Industrial F. Noncombatant to you) or Clandestine L. Amoeba (a lovely girl). Every now and then, the million monkeys at the million typewriters come up with a truly inspired moniker, like Inversion C. Backup (a post-Apocalyptic preacher?) or Villainous D. Peace (the richest man in town). Some, such as McAdam C. Gambling and Catullus V. Camphor, I expect to see on the next season of Deadwood. And then there are those who stick in the mind while trying to find their final from, like Possum B. Codicil and Treads B. Oblivious.

God bless 'em all.

Republican National Convention, Day 4

2004-09-02T23:19:00.000-05:00

It's the last night of the Republican National Convention, and the only surpise is that I haven't killed myself yet. I can't even make it through the 7 o'clock hour, choosing instead to watch an episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, if only to see some people who are happy and nice. Even if I hadn't struggled through the Democratic Convention just a few weeks ago, this would be taking its toll on me. By now, the entire event is reduced to three interweaving components: militant speeches, sappy musical sequences, and interminable video segments. Who knew Dick Cheney would be the bright spot? Right now, Donnie McClurkin (who?) is performing some ersatz gospel number about standing backed by a row of cute little black kids. The GOPs have snatched up every unaccompanied black child in New York City and put them on TV. Then it's time for another RNC Video featuring George and Laura. George isn't showing up in person until the last minute - which was the case with Kerry last month as well - but his absence has been masked by literally hours of video. Following the video, it's pumped in music and more dead time until the next speaker shows up. The concern at the Democratic Convention was that the event might run behind schedule, because so many speakers ran long. At this event, easily 20% of the time consists of nothing happening. Which is nice, 'cause it gives me time to catch up on my typing, but annoying, because it emphasizes how much this is wasting my time.

Earlier tonight, Tommy Franks spoke. I missed most of it, because I was watching Queer Eye, but what I saw looked like much of what I've seen for the past three nights. With few exceptions, nearly all the speeches have focused on doom and gloom, war and terror. This is understandable, considering that this is W's claim to power, but a little of it goes a long way. By now it's so oppressive I can hardly take it. The Dems hauled out their share of Guns & Ammo, but most of that was limited to the final night. With the angry speeches (Zell Miller), the terror speeches (Giuliani), and the war speeches (almost everyone) on one hand, and the cheesy musical interludes and videos on the other, this Convention is like The Thin Red Line as produced by Lifetime television.

Of course, there are minorities aplenty. 17% of the delegates are minorities, compared to 39% of those at the Democratic Convention, and we've seen every single one. Every Latino or Hispanic has to give part of their speech in Spanish, not so much for the Spanish speakers at home, but so everyone can feel better about the "big tent" the GOPs keep talking about erecting.

Oh, and taxes. It wouldn't be a Republican Convention without taxes. There are three things I know from this convention: George Bush is a strong and resolute leader, John Kerry flip-flops, and Kerry will raise taxes. Granted, he probably won't raise taxes on most of the people in this hall, but that doesn't matter: it's all sound and fury, signifying nothing. I've actually heard more about John Kerry at this convention than I have about George Bush. In fact, according to the New York Times, that bastion of the liberal left, in the first three day of the Convention, John Kerry's name has been mentioned 39 times. In the Democratic Convention, George Bush was mentioned by name 5 times. Right or wrong, the Dems chose to stay "positive," and avoid direct attacks against the President. Here, attacks have been the special of the day. Kerry is a flip-flopper (the crowd has now taken to holding up flip flops as they chant "flip flop, flip flop'), Kerry will ask France for permission to go to war, Kerry hates the intelligence community. (Unlike Dick Cheney, who loves the intelligence community so much that he has set up his own intelligence analysts, who supported going to war with Iraq over the objections of the CIA.) Kerry, like all Democrats, is a tax-and-spend Democrat. Bush is a cut-taxes-and-spend Republican. I have a good idea of which is more fiscally responsible.

Have I mentioned the inappropriate "USA"s? This crowd breaks into chants of USA at the drop of hat. At times I want to tell them, "You're in the USA, you don't need to chant USA." Chanting is what this crowd does best. It's why Dick Cheney's 16 minute speech ran more than 30 minutes last night. God bless their enthusiasm, I suppose, but it's kinda creepy seeing all these conventioneers hopped up on nationalism. I want to up their Ritalin. Just a minute ago, some pop singer finished some poppy song, and the crowd burst into cheers of USA, USA, USA. I guess the song was about the USA.

Hey, George Pataki is lying right now. According to him, George Bush said he'd turn the economy around and create new jobs, and he did it. Well, he certainly turned the economy around, but the only new jobs he created are in India. Video segments have focused on the Healthy Forest Initiative, which increases their health by opening up previously protected forests to the logging industry. This initiative protects against forest fires, since trees that are cut down can't burn down. We've heard time and again about the success of the No Child Left Behind Act, without any mention of the fact that 1) the Act is fundamentally flawed to begin with, and 2) George gutted the funding for it before it even had a chance to go into effect. And on and on. Time and again, the point is made that President Bush is running on his record, and it's fortunate for him that so few people have been paying attention to his record.

George Pataki just came up with a new reason why we were right to go to war against Iraq: whether or not he had weapons of mass destruction, "Saddam was a walking, talking weapon of mass destruction. Other than that - and a few nice tips of his cap to the swing states that came to New York's aid in 2001 - the speech is mostly rote. In fact, his jabs at John Kerry, particularly those regarding "statements" he made at his Convention, sound like they're directly lifted from speeches I've already heard. These guys are worse about repeating themselves than the Dems, and that's saying something.

Oops, Pataki's speech ended early, so although he concluded by introducing "my friend, President George Bush," and the crowd followed his cue by chanting "four more years," it will be three more minutes before the Prez takes the stage.

Someone's introducing the George Bush video, and it sounds like something out of Song of the South. "How do you tell the story of a presidency? How do you tell the story of a man?" My, my. I expect to hear the strains of Zip-a-dee-do-dah. Oh, it's Fred (Dalton) Thompson, lately of the Senate and Law & Order. The video is, need I say, all 9-11. ("What do a bullhorn and a baseball have in common? What truths do they tell?") It ends with Bush throwing out the first pitch at the World Series, telling us all to get back in the game. Or something.

Then The Man himself takes the stage, and it's a smackdown between "Four More Years" and "USA." He doesn't take the stage so much as appear from behind two sliding light up flags, like a Las Vegas magician. For this night, the stage has been reconfigured to a theater in the round, so George is the center of all adulation. He is very pleased. Think pig. Think shit.

George is doing his best to look presidential tonight. It shouldn't be that difficult, since he is president, but in these events he tends to come across as an overgrown frat boy. Which, in truth, he is. He tries to keep his trademark smirk under control, but it's an uphill battle. Even when he praises Dick Cheney, he looks like he's lying through his teeth.

The speech is inspirational ("Americans have been given hills to climb and found the strength to climb them. Now, because we have made the hard journey, we can see the valley below."), and if this was my first view of George Bush, I might feel inspired. His first obvious lie comes with the line, "I'm a fortunate father of two spirited, intelligent and lovely young women," but I suppose a father's pride can be overlooked. He invokes the ghost of Ronald Reagan, and since the man is dead he cannot protest. He focuses on his domestic achievements - education reform, Medicare, tax relief - and when you consider the problems with No Child Left Behind and the fact that even Republican legislators have had problems with his health care reforms, you realize that this guy is all about war and tax cuts.

As he gets into the substantive portion of his speech, he talks up domestic policies first. He revives the trope of compassionate conservatism, and I've finally figured out what this means. It's talking like a Democrat and acting like a totalitarian ruler. He says, "To create jobs, we will make our country less dependent on foreign sources of energy," which I suppose means conquering more countries with oil. He speaks against the tax code, which he notes is "filled with special interest loopholes." Yes, for big business. Or are you referring to those for faith based organizations? He speaks of increasing funding for our community colleges. This will be good news for the Chicago City Colleges, who last year saw their federal funding cut by one third. Of course, he comes out for medical liability reform. Considering that tort reform has been languishing in Washington for the past four years, one wonders if this issue would be so important if a trail attorney was not on the opposing ticket. And he brings up my favorite Republican refrain, "we will make sure that health decisions are made by doctors and patients, not by bureaucrats in Washington, DC." To my understanding, the bureaucrats who are most guilty of crippling proper health care are those at the insurance companies, who decide which patients should get which procedures and what those procedures are worth.

George speaks next of an ownership society. This phrase means something different for him than it does for me. To me, an ownership society is one which takes responsibility for its actions. One is which, say, the people feel vested in what the government does. For George, such a thought is anathema. To him, ownership means, well, owning things. Your own home, for one, a trend which began under the Clinton administration and is due primarily to Alan Greenspan keeping interest rates artificially low, but for which the Bush White House is happy to claim credit. Unlike the recession, which of course they inherited from the previous administration. He also wants people to "own their health care plans and have the confidence of owning a piece of their retirement."

I'm all in favor of health savings accounts, which allow you to put pre-tax earnings aside for medical expenses. But to even suggest they are an alternative to health insurance is sleight of hand at best. A health savings account is an insurance plan which is all copayment. The money you put in, plus any interest you earn, is the money you take out. A medical savings account is to health insurance what a trust fund is to life insurance. It's your own money which you dip into when you get sick, rather than when you die. If you don't have the money to invest to begin with, which is the case with most people who don't have health insurance, then you're SOL. One of the benefits which Bush trumpets is that you can take your account with you whenever you change jobs. Sure. Just like the money you put into your credit union remains yours when you leave your job. So now it's considered a benefit that your employer is not stealing your money?

Although he doesn't go into details, George also mentions his desire to privatize - okay, now it's down to partially privatizing - Social Security. The idea here is also attractive - workers are given some control over the funds the government would take for Social Security, allowing them to invest it at better rates than the Feds would. So you take your Social Security funds an invest them in a high growth corporation, let's say a big and aggressive energy company whose strength is demonstrated by its ties to the government. Oh no, you chose Enron! You sank my retirement plan! Hope your IRA is doing well, 'cause your Social Security money is gone.

After a few jabs at Kerry, Bush is off to Iraq. Before he goes, though, he tips his hat to welfare reform ("responsibility and character and family commitment"), pro-lifers ("we must make a place for the unborn child") and gay marriage ("protection of marriage against activist judges"). Bush - and his Party - are great at these catch-phrases. When speaking of unemployment, he talks about creating "American opportunity zones." God knows what those are, but they sound cool. He doesn't go into details, though, not mentioning that the official Republican Party platform chosen at the convention opposes not only gay marriage but civil unions, or explaining that "family commitment" means it would be more difficult for a single mother to receive welfare than one with a husband. Nor does he ask anyone at the Convention to specifically make a place in their home for the unwanted unborn children that would be a result of tightening abortion laws. He does, however, give me one more reason to vote for John Kerry. He accuses Kerry of "calling the Reagan presidency eight years of 'moral darkness'." Hey, me too!

The last half of the speech, nearly 30 minutes, is all terror, Afghanistan and Iraq. Bush does his best to crazy glue the two countries together. If you can't write this part of the speech yourself, you've spent the last few years in the proverbial "spider hole." While he's at it, he takes a poke at the pinkos over at the New York Times. I'm sure some people got into it. Come 10 o'clock, I switched over to The Daily Show. I mean, there's only so much a thinking man can take. Along with Jon Stewart's coverage of the convention ("The message from each speaker was the same: This is what happens to your hair when you won't let gay people touch it."), I got to see John McCain, who pretty much threw his hands up in despair over the whole affair.

I did manage to click back following the speech, to see fireworks. Not verbal fireworks, and God help us, not actual fireworks, but computer generated fireworks on the jumbotron behind George and Laura. Hooray for CGI patriotism! And balloons! And "Put a Little Love in Your Heart" (I kid you not) over the sound system. And then, in place of the fireworks, CGI confetti. Much easier to clean up. In the spirit of full disclosure, by the end of the night, real confetti was released.

So that's it for the commercial portion of our program. Needless to say, the liberal media praised the Republican Convention far and above the Democratic one, and fell all over themselves looking for superlatives to laud upon George Bush. For me, the star of the event was Dick Cheney, who gave the clearest and, while aggressive, least mean spirited speech of the event. Shocking. The populist speakers, Arnold and Rudy, were, for me, both washouts: Rudy went on forever with no visible organization, Arnold delivered a feel good speech that was 50% pap. Obviously the party regulars ate it up. The undecided voters actually increased to 9% during the Convention, so who knows where they're headed. If they feel like they hate both candidates, I can't completely blame them.

Great Balls of Polypropylene!

2004-08-20T11:24:00.000-05:00

It's a wide, wild world out there, and I'm constantly surprised by how little I know about it. We live in the information age, and information collects, so the desire to keep up with it all is a constant, losing struggle. Something always falls through the cracks.

Like Neuticles.

I've been doing some reading on dog rescue - no, I'm not getting a dog; at least not yet - and on a border collie site I read a question about Neuticles. Capitalized because Neuticles is the brand name, and the Neuticles people don't want to be in the same boat as Band-Aid and Kleenex.

I can't stop saying Neuticles.

Neuticles, as you may have guessed, are testicular implants for pets (US Patent #58-68140). According to the manufacturer, when Spot or Puff have their gonads axed, they suffer from post neutering trauma. Dr. Nicholas B. Carter, of the Border Collie Rescue site, makes the point that all surgery results in physical and emotional post-surgery trauma, for both animals and humans. You get cut open, you don't feel your freshest. The Neuticles folks say it's worse for pets who get neutered. They miss what they are missing, and as a result experience depression and, yes, lower self esteem. When you replace your pet's testicles with Neuticles, he is unaware he has been neutered because he "retains his natural look."

Neuticles are essentially, how do you say, rubber balls. Well not quite. They're actually a polypropylene homopolymer (or homopolymere, according to the website), which makes them plastic balls. It should come as no surprise that the company now offer eye implants for your pets as well. And the new Neuticles Ultra, or Neuticles Natural (they need to get their branding straight), are made of solid silicone, to "replicate pets' testes in firmness," adding a natural feel to that natural look, no doubt. The balls come in a range of sizes to fit your furry friend, from less than half an inch (XSmall in the Feline line, Petite in the Canine) to more than 2 inches (XLarge Canine), with prices ranging from $53 a pair to $179. Neuticles are available by the piece as well as by the pair, in case your pet has a mismatched set of luggage, I suppose. The Naturals are significantly more expensive - 129 bucks versus 53 for the Canine Petite Pair, $169 versus $67 for the Canine Large. I say screw Poochie and go with the plastic. If you're really close to your pet, you can have replacements custom sized, at $399 (Feline) and $499 (Canine), for a pair or (oddly) for each. And just to keep everybody happy, Neuticles are available for your horse or bull.

Note: Neuticles offers a 10% discount "To Licensed Veterinarians," which implies that a certain number of purchases are made by the end user - well, their master, at least - rather than doctors. I shudder. Especially since the site offers charts illustrating the procedure. Don't cut off your dog's balls at home. Save that for your husband.

Replacement testicles have been available for humans for some time now (Steve even flirted with getting one on Sex and the City), so I guess it was just a matter of time before someone made them for pets. According to the Neuticles site (I can't stop saying Neuticles), it's "common sense" that a dog would know he was neutered. "A dog knows when he's hungry, when he has a flea, when he misses his owner - why wouldn't he miss a familiar body part?" Granted, this common sense flies in the face of what most experts say, but what do experts know? The general opinion seems to be that Neuticles are more for the pet owners than for the pets. As more than one doctor says in the "What Veterinarians Are Saying" page of the official site, "If it convinces people to neuter their pet then I'm all for it." Considering that, according to the American Humane Association, nearly 10 million pets are put to sleep each year in the US, it's no wonder that vets are in favor of neutering. Pet owners, on the other hand, have a different approach to Neuticles. As Lane Hinderman of Metairie, LA says, "He's a guy and I wanted him to remain looking like one." Echoes Glenda Nelson of Spring, TX, "Neuticles were the absolute least I could do."

Whatever you or I may think, Gregg Miller, the inventor of Neuticles, is not your ordinary crackpot. Over the past eight years, more than 100,000 animals have been "Neuticled" (his word) around the world. Now Miller has written a book about his experience. Called "Going Nuts," the book chronicles two stories: the development of the first canine testicular implant and the death of his father due to Alzheimer's disease.

Now that takes balls.

Judge Not

2004-08-18T11:23:00.000-05:00

The world can sleep easier, now that the O is dispensing justice.

As I'm sure you know, Oprah Winfrey received some press this week - like she needs it - not for renewing her contract through the next millennium, but for sitting on a jury. Word came out last week that the Giant Head had been called for jury duty. Well, despite her best efforts, she got into the box, where she and 11 cohorts found defendant Dion Coleman guilty of first degree murder in a trial that spanned all of three days.

Oprah called the experience "an eye-opener" and "a huge reality check." It was life changing - as what is not for Oprah - to discover that "there's a whole other world going on out there."

What was the big surprise? That people are gunned down every day in Chicago, especially over drugs and money, which were at the root of this case? That trial lawyers are by and large working stiffs whose cases look nothing like those on "Law & Order"? That juror meals are so tiny?

As is her wont, Oprah is now planning a "jury reunion" show for next week. I expect all questions will be answered then.

Meanwhile, Lorraine Coleman, the mother of the defendant, had the final word: "I don't watch her show, anyway. I watch Montel. And Maury."

*****

A concerned looking Greta von Susteren - have you noticed that she always looks concerned? Is this a result of her cosmetic surgery? - was distressed that a first degree murder trial took only three days. Of course, Greta and her brood have been following the Scott Peterson case, which is not exactly the model by which all criminal cases should be judged. Granted, I know almost nothing about the Scott Peterson case. The only Scott Peterson I'm familiar with is the lunch meat and sausage company. On the other hand, I'm one of a handful of Americans who never followed the O.J. case. Once again, to me an O.J. case is something that comes from the folks at Tropicana.

I am not surprised that a murder case should be resolved in three days. The vast majority of trials in our criminal courts are not high profile ratings grabbers. Most crimes are committed by stupid people acting as befits their nature. The perpetrators are shuffled through the system as quickly as possible by courts seeking to catch up on their caseload. I once sat in a courtroom as a witness to an assault that was resolved in less than an hour. As I waited for the case to be called, I watched a fistful of drug offenders pass through and have justice meted out to them, in varying degrees. The speed with which most capital crimes are decided is one reason that death penalty opponents are so adamant in their cause.

At the same time, Oprah's case is of more interest to me than O.J.'s or Peterson's. The defendant lives in Chicago and has a criminal background. Should he be guilty and yet be released, my well-being is in more immediate danger than if Scott Peterson runs free.

We Shall Overcome High Prices

2004-08-16T11:21:00.000-05:00

It's a great time to be a protester! Mayor Michael Bloomberg is welcoming "peaceful political activists" to New York City with a barrel o' discounts, including reduced rates at hotels, museums and attractions. Peaceful activists will also receive discounts at restaurants, shows and shopping. All you have to do is pick up a Peaceful Protester welcome button at the Visitor Information Center, or should that task prove to be too onerous, print your own Peaceful Political Activists Savings Card. The card and button feature the Statue of Liberty holding a placard that reads Peaceful Political Activists, because even Lady Liberty needs to run a little crazy sometimes.

Cynics imply this represents a recognition on the part of the Bloomberg administration that demonstrators may outnumber delegates and other Convention visitors. I would not be so crass as to echo their claims.

Protesters will not be allowed to be peacefully politically active anywhere they like, however. A rally planned for Central Park has been nixed by the city, with the explanation that the gathering would damage the grass. This, despite the fact that the Park regularly hosts performances which draw large crowds, such as the estimated 750,000 that gathered for a Paul Simon concert. Perhaps the concern is that the Statue of Liberty will attend. Instead, the city wants protesters to rally along the West Side Highway. Granted, that would render many of those gathered incapable of hearing the actual political speeches. But think of the shopping!

*****

Should peaceful political activists choose to visit the Statue, they will be confronted with the latest tool used to fight terrorism: biometrics. In order to rent a locker, instead of dropping a coin and getting a key, visitors now must use an electronic reader than scans their fingerprints. Increased security at the Statue requires visitors to check most packages, so the system is getting a workout. Since there are only three scanners for nearly 200 lockers, the wait is substantial. Problems include people forgetting their locker number or forgetting which finger they used to activate the scan.

Still, Brad Hill, whose family has run Liberty Island's concessions since the 30s, thinks biometrics is a wise choice. The biggest problem with the key-operated lockers was visitors losing the key, a problem expected to be exacerbated by the fact that guests now have to empty their pockets as they pass through metal detectors. As Hill notes, people don't lose their fingers, though with this crowd I'm not so sure. He also expects visitors will find the lockers easier to use once they get used to them. This argument would carry more weight in an office building then at a tourist attraction where guests, almost by definition, have never visited.

On the other hand, chances increase every day that visitors may have some experience with biometrics readers. As it turns out, such systems are now in place in Chicago's Union Station, the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport, and the Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure theme parks in Florida.

Friday the 13th Falls on a Friday This Month

2004-08-13T09:34:00.000-05:00

Today is Friday the 13th. It puts me in mind of Pogo and Walt Kelly. I don't know if it's any worse when Friday the 13th falls on a Friday (rather than say, a Tuesday), but it seems worth investigating.

Friday the 13th is probably the best known superstition in the US. Those who will gleefully spill salt or step on cracks are still taken aback when that date turns up on the calendar. There was a Friday the 13th last February, but there won't be another until next May, the only one in 2005. (There was only one in 2003 as well, in June.) The fear of Friday the 13th is common enough to have its own term: paraskevidekatriaphobia. (Unlike triskaidekaphobia, which is simply fear of the number 13.) There is reason enough to fear: the US loses $800 to $900 million in business each Friday the 13th because people don't travel or go to work.

So how did all this nonsense get started?

It's hard to say. Both Friday and the number 13 have bad reputations, difficult as it is to imagine anyone having a bad thing to say about Friday. Chaucer may have been the first to write of it in English, in the Canterbury Tales. That he considers Friday a cursed day in the 14th century presumes the belief is already common. By the 19th century, superstitions regarding the day abound: it is a bad day to harvest, start a journey, get married or give birth, or begin or end needlework. (It's also a bad day to start a new job - "Servants who go into their situations on Friday, never go to stay" - though anyone who would start a job on a Friday is a fool, I tells ya.) One reason for this Friday phobia is religious: not only did the crucifixion happen on a Friday, but so (according to some sources) did Eve's sharing of the apple, the Great Flood and the babble at the Tower of Babel. Apparently Friday was Execution Day in Rome (following Prince spaghetti day on Wednesday), while in other pagan cultures it was a day of worship. No surprise, then, that it was demonized by the early Christian Church. "Friday" is, of course, named for the Norse goddess Freya (or Frigg), patron of marriage (or at least sex) and fertility. Once the Christians came along, Freya (with her sacred cat) was cast as a witch, and Friday became the Witches' Sabbath. In one story, Freya appeared to a group of a dozen witches meeting on a Friday night and gave them one of her cats, making 13 the traditional number for a coven.

13 is also the number of guests at the Last Supper, with Judas the last to arrive and the first to leave, giving rise to the belief that 1) it's unlucky to have 13 at a dinner party (and by extension, any gathering), and 2) that the first to leave such a gathering will die within the year. Here's another point where Christian and pagan tradition overlap. Norse mythology includes a tale of a dinner for 12 at Valhalla. Loki, the trickster god, crashed the party, bringing the number to 13. He subsequently convinced Hod, the blind god of winter (and darkness, and what have you) to hurl a spear of mistletoe (Merry Christmas!) at Baldur, the god of joy and goodness (and what have you). Baldur was invulnerable to everything BUT mistletoe (always a loophole, eh Achilles?), and so he was slain, plunging the earth into mourning and darkness. The Norse saw this as a reason why you shouldn't have 13 at a party, rather than, say, why you shouldn't throw things at people if you're blind. (The Hindus also believed that it is unlucky for 13 people to gather in one place, such as dinner, so there may be something to this.)

For the feminists out there, there's another reason why 13 is said to be unlucky. The number was revered by goddess-worshipping cultures because it corresponded to the number of lunar, and menstrual, cycles in a year. The "Earth Mother of Laussel," a 27,000 year old carving found near the Lascaux caves in France (where the paintings come from), depicts a female figure holding a crescent-shaped horn bearing 13 notches. According to this view, as the patriarchy replaced the matriarchy and the solar calendar triumphed over the lunar, the number 13 became considered evil.

So you've got your Friday, you've got your 13; how did these two great tastes start tasting great together? One theory links it to the destruction of the Knights Templar in 1307. The Knights were an order of religious warriors sent to guard Jerusalem following the Crusades, early in the 12th century. Remember the old guy at the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade? He's one. After a couple of centuries, the Knights had amassed enough power to make kings and popes pause. So on Friday, the 13th of October, 1307, Philip the Fair (Philip IV) of France rounded up their Grand Master and thousands of his followers, charging them with heresy, blasphemy, and yes, what have you. They were "questioned" by the Inquisition (everyone had an Inquisition in the Middle Ages), which is to say tortured. In the grand tradition of Christian justice, those who didn't die during questioning were executed once they confessed.

This is a fine explanation, and would be more convincing were knowledge of the history of the Knights Templar more widespread. In truth, references pairing Friday and 13 don't appear until the 20th century. It was already an accepted superstition by that time, but its origins - when Friday became the unluckiest 13th of them all - remain lost.

On a side note, British scientists conducted a study some ten years ago that demonstrated that while traffic was lighter on a Friday the 13th than a common Friday, accidents increased significantly. According to this study, your chances of being admitted to a hospital as a result of an auto accident were up more than 50%. The conclusion? "Staying at home is recommended." Psychologists at the Stress Management Center and Phobia Institute in Asheville, NC, on the other hand, suggest that the heightened state of anxiety people feel about the 13th are responsible for some people having accidents or falling ill on that day.

Stay away from ladders and mirrors anyway. Just to be safe.

Signs of the Coming Apocalypse

2004-08-07T10:09:00.000-05:00

FOX, the official network of the apocalypse, has begun airing a new reality TV program called, somewhat cumbersomely, "Trading Spouses: Meet Your New Mommy." As the title suggests, the conceit of the show is that two families exchange one spouse, in this case the mother. Mom imposes her will on her new family, even if that imposition is sometimes clearly prompted by the producers ("Today you're supposed to do everything I say"). The exchange lasts for a week - well, a TV week, actually, which turns out to be 5 days - and at the end of that time each family receives $50,000. The cash is the carrot that keeps the family from running roughshod over the new parental unit. The twist - "twist" being the current keyword for reality programming - is that the "new mommy" decides how her substitute family gets to spend their $50,000. No one has yet committed that amount to anger management and family therapy, but I imagine it's right around the corner.

From what I've seen, the show takes most of its cues from City Mouse and Country Mouse. The first swap involved a middle class (or what used to be considered middle class but now might be lower middle class) black family and a wealthy mixed race (Japanese/Blonde) family in Texas. Despite initial misgivings, Almela Biggins fit in almost immediately with her new family, and bonded especially with Nana, the grandmother of the clan, who is equal parts respected ancestor and live-in help. Tammy Nakamura (I'm not making these names up), on the other hand, was horrified to learn that she was expected to get out of bed before noon and perform such onerous tasks as making dinner ("Can't ch'all just go out to eat?"). The show is an equal opportunity Mouse basher, however, so in the second swap, the lower class mom was the boor and the upper class was helpful. Next week, two families trade dads.

"Trading Spouses" is the slowest show on broadcast television, next to "Big Brother." Like that program, it believes in the mantra of public speaking: Tell them what you're going to say, Say it, and then Tell them what you said. The director not only recaps what happened last week, he frequently recaps what happened before the commercial break. It runs two hour-long episodes for each swap, and the total amount of new material accounts for maybe 20 minutes. The show is based on/stolen from "Wife Swap," a British show scheduled to air in an American incarnation on ABC this fall. The biggest disappointment is that it is not a true wife swap, in the fullest meaning of the word. This is not a televised key party; no one's making whoopee with another man's wife. It's like hosting a really pushy guest who could leave you a tidy sum of money; the equivalent of putting up your in-laws, perhaps.

Not to be outdone, Bravo - which is becoming the new FOX - is presenting its own spousal abuse show, "Things I Hate About You." In this program, the two members of a couple compete to prove that their spouse is more annoying than they are. If the best you can say for yourself is that you're not as hateful as the person you're married to, best of luck. In order to prove how hateful their spouse is, each half presents "evidence," consisting of video clips of their other half at their worst. Sometimes the clips come naturally: My husband cleans up after the cleaning lady, and here he is doing it. In most cases, though, the evidence is staged: one spouse will set up a situation designed to make the other go crazy. The evidence is gathered by providing each spouse with a camcorder, in addition to rigging their home with audio-visual equipment and apparently having a cameraman follow them around for a week. Each piece of evidence is judged and scored on a scale of 1 to 10 by a panel composed of a failed actor, a failed comic and a failed therapist.

What I hate most about the show is its host, Mo Rocca. Rocca, despite the spelling of the first name, is a man. He first crossed my radar as a regular on VH1's "I Love the ..." (70s, 80s, 90s) series. [Dave Navarro, of Jane's Addiction and "Celebrity Poker Showdown," observed of a young female popster featured on "I Love the 90s," "Hasn't she only been around for about 5 years?" Nostalgia indeed is not what it used to be.] Rocca comes across as a baritone Andy Rooney, if Rooney had a sibilant speech disorder, with all the attendant wit and perception. He offered floor commentary during CNN's coverage of the Democratic National Convention, and the worst thing I can say about him is Larry King thinks he's a stitch. He honed his somewhat indistinguishable political chops on the "Daily Show," apparently during a period when I wasn't watching. That, or he was the reason I stopped watching. Compared to the current lineup of Steve Carell, Stephen Colbert and Rob Corddry, Rocca is a bush leaguer, one of those comics whose desire to be loved is much greater than his desire to be funny. In my home, he is neither funny nor loved.

In other reality news, I have all but abandoned "Big Brother." This will come as a shock to those who know that BB has always been my reality cup of tea. My complaints with the show have become legion, from its glacial pace to its needy personality. It airs three nights a week, and for most of that time nothing happens. The best way to watch the show is to tape it, so you can fast-forward through the boring and annoying parts (i.e. most of the show). This season is particularly dreadful because they've stocked the house with alpha males, like some corporate trout pond. These aggressive, entitled straight white men keep talking about making "good TV," by which they mean, "me me me." It's not surprising that the producers of the show chose these guys, because they haven't learned what the rest of us know: alpha males are boring. Not just these alpha males; all alpha males. Their sense of humor has not progressed beyond the 6th grade; their sense of fun does not go beyond organized sports and perhaps alcoholism; their sense of reality does not extend beyond whatever ideas they've clung to since high school. Most of the time I don't mind them running corporations and politics, in the same way I don't envy sanitation and hospice workers - I'm happy not to have the responsibility. But that doesn't mean I want to socialize with them, or worse, watch them on television.

By the time you read this, the two primary alpha males will probably have been jettisoned by the other housemates. In both cases, they will experience ejection as a complete surprise. And having been driven out of the house myself, I see no reason to return. There are only two characters left who I care to spend any time with, and no one worth watching three hours per week.

This season's "twist" on "Big Brother" is called Project DNA. Two of the hamsters, unknown to them, shared a common father. They figured it out within the first week (wow, the two stump-jumpin' westerners are related!), and since then it's had no impact. Three of the houseguests have twins, and one pair of twins was playing the game simultaneously, unknown to the other roomies. This was a bit more interesting, but not worth staying home for. If BB returns next summer, as I imagine it will, they should take a hint from "Trading Spouses" and "Things I Hate," and wall up 6 couples instead of 12 individuals. Nobody hates you more than the person you're closest to, a lesson learned from "The Amazing Race," so locking up a handful of marrieds should produce some real bloodshed.

*****

You've already missed auditions for "American Idol" in Cleveland and St. Louis, two cities known for their burgeoning pop music scenes. The audition tour opened in Ohio August 4, with some 15,000 hopefuls showing up, and continued on to Missouri August 8, for another 10,000. Police in St. Louis complimented the crowd on both their talent and their good behavior. I hear you get time off for that. AI hopefuls auditioned for judges not much more qualified than the cops: a passel of associate producers and production assistants. Those who pass the first screening - either because they are good enough or, more likely, because they are so bad - go on to meet the "celebrity" judges a week or so later.

The tour picks up in Washington, DC, on Wednesday, but the age limit is 28, so John Ashcroft is ineligible to compete. It continues on to such resort spots as Orlando, Las Vegas and ... Anchorage, at the end of September. There's a joke here about hell freezing over, but I'm not sure what it is.

*****

Immigrant rights groups have their knickers in a twist about "Gana la Verde" ("Win the Green"), a "Fear Factor" style reality show aimed at Spanish immigrants. (Well, actually Mexican, though I imagine there may be some Central Americans in the mix.) Contestants dodge 18 wheelers, fend off attack dogs and swallow tequila worms in pursuit of a green card. Were they not on TV, the suggestion is that the contestants would engage on such activities on their own time. Winners receive a year's worth of legal counsel in pursuit of a green card.

Immigrant advocates complain that the show doesn't actually guarantee anyone a green card, though anyone who's ever worked with an immigration lawyer could have told them that. No one seems particularly upset that the contestants are being humiliated and exploited, as that is expected from reality programming. Or, indeed, whatever job their green card could land them. There is some concern, though, that the show is doing the INS's work for them, since agents merely need to turn on their television sets to have illegals identified for them by name and address.

Is anyone surprised to learn that this show is the second highest-rated Spanish language program in Southern California and Texas?

Democratic National Convention, Day 4

2004-07-30T10:11:00.000-05:00

It's the final day of this dog and pony show, and the Top Dog (or pony) will speak at 9, Chicago time. It's also Guns & Ammo night, with Wesley Clark opening prime time at 7, Max Cleland introducing Kerry, and a host of his Vietnam crewmates filling out the bill. Finally, it's Family Night, with the Heinz and Kerry Kids putting in an appearance.

On the advice of some friends, I've switched stations once again, to C-Span. They offer true gavel to gavel coverage (those of a certain age will recall the days when the networks advertised their reporting of the Conventions in this way) without the intrusion of commentators. (I've been using this word all week, but in my heart I feel it's not a real word. It's a 70s word that has gained acceptance through usage (as English words do), but I have a sense it replaced a perfectly useful word. Commentor? Is that a word? Oh, for an OED. I'm reminded of my students who use the word "comfortableness," until I inform them the word they probably want is comfort.) I'll switch back to MSNBC at 8:30 (or rather, my cable box will, since I'll be out at that time), because I'm interested in hearing some jibber-jabber about the speech.

C-Span offers a very different view of the show. Apparently, "Higher and Higher" is the theme song for the entire Convention, not just Edwards' appearance last night, as I hear snatches of it throughout. Well, not the song so much as the backup singers going "Do do do do, do do do do ..." I'm hard pressed to describe my relation with Kerry and Edwards, or their relationship with me, or even their relationship with each other, as Your Love. But the lyric applies to my current political mood and hopes: "Once, I was down hearted / Disappointment was my closest friend / But then you came and he soon departed / And he never showed his face again." In addition to the snatches of the Do-Do girls, there are regular announcements by a disembodied female voice. You may have heard her introduce speakers who are too low on the food chain to be introduced by a human being. But she occasionally makes other announcements, such as "Delegates, please take your seats. We must clear the aisles before we can continue." It's like being on the Democratic National Convention Ride at Universal Studios. At any moment, I expect her to tell the delegates to keep their heads and arms inside the Fleet Center at all times.

Another thing you notice, watching the show in its entirety, is just how boring it all is, at least once you get out of prime time. Everyone has their say and no one has more than 6 or 7 minutes. No one is truly incompetent - most of these folks are elected officials, so they have plenty of public speaking experience - but after a while, everyone starts sounding like the teacher on the Peanuts cartoons. Especially this year, when unity is the theme, there's not even the occasional whack job to start ranting about his or her personal gripe. It's almost a relief when the head of the AFL-CIO shows up with his trio of the nobly unemployed, playing what could be a scene out of SCTV. The guy is not quite Jiminy Glick, but he's awfully close. He's accompanied by a machinist from Iowa who now works in a grocery store, which may explain why he shows up in a pullover shirt with the sleeves rolled up instead of a suit or at least a sports coat. I think the name of the woman with him is Mariacella Garcia, but since Jiminy stumbles over it every time he pronounces it, it's hard to tell. The third stooge is Steven White, who is, of course, black.

Thus, it's a relief when the pre-show finally ends and the main program gets underway at 7. Tonight's featured guests include the Two Joes, Biden and Lieberman, House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, and in our salute to the military, Wesley Clark and Madeline Albright. Not together, unfortunately. No one gets more than 5 or 10 minutes to speak (except Albright, who's scheduled into a 30 minute block I hope she's not expected to fill), so I'm not expecting much. As we transition out of the pre-show, "We Are Family" plays over the sound system, with all the requisite white funk on the part of the delegates. Having seen The Birdcage, it's hard for me to hear this song without looking for Gene Hackman in drag. Then Mavis Staples, who is described as "one of America's best loved musical artists," opens the evening with "America the Beautiful." This is appropriate, since up until March of 1931, when "The Star-Spangled Banner" got the nod, many Americans considered this song the official national anthem. Staples opens with some verse I've never heard - not "spacious skies" nor "patriot dream." In keeping with the martial theme, she starts with, "O beautiful for heroes proved / In liberating strife." Is this the liberation of Iraq we're referring to here, and if so, isn't that dangerous ground? In any case, the song has at least six verses (Can you sing them all?), so I suppose they could start with a different verse every night of the Convention if they wanted to.

Biden gets the audience worked up with a speech that seems largely cribbed from Bill Maher's book, When You Ride Alone You Ride With Bin Laden. In particular, he focuses on the opportunities lost after 9/11, when the American people and much of the international community would have done anything to help. Clark salutes the military, going so far as to announce, "We love our men and women in uniform!" which, true as it may be, plays less well from a 60 year old retired general than he might expect. But he gets big props for announcing that "Anyone who tells you that one political party has a monopoly on the best defense of our nation is committing a fraud on the American people." I've never understood how a "shoot first, ask question later" attitude necessarily makes you strong on defense. Its major proponents seem to be Clancy Wiggum and the Queen of Hearts. Nor do I understand what makes George W. Bush, who has presided over two failed military campaigns, such a genius on defense. Clark seems to be with me as he quotes the FDR line, "Repetition does not transform a lie into the truth." This being national security night, Clark puts Kerry up with what he calls the "pantheon of great wartime Democrats:" Woodrow Wilson (World War I); Roosevelt and Truman (II); and Kennedy (the Cuban Missile Crisis). By the time he gets to his closing - "America, hear this soldier" - the crowd is going nuts.

Joe Lieberman puts an end to that. This is the guy who made Al Gore look dynamic. When he hauls out Edwards' line, "Hope is on the way," too much of the crowd has dozed off to realize they're supposed to join in. Playing "Shout" on his exit wakes them up a bit, but the swirling designs on the jumbotrons threaten to hypnotize them back into stupor. This seems to be the version of the song used for the laundry presoak, which brings on more of the white funk.

Nancy Pelosi follows with what is basically a by-the-book speech outlining Democratic beliefs without making any specific proposals. She stakes one party against the other, with the recurring line, "Democrats have it right." But her crisp, measured delivery, combined with stilted gestures, makes her more like a grade school teacher speaking at assembly than a dynamic leader. She gets one thing right, though, when she reminds the crowd, "Our work will not be complete unless we elect a Democratic Congress." Granted, as House Minority Leader, she has personal reasons for desiring a Democratic House of Representatives. But I'm glad someone has brought up what has been my rallying cry for months: in many ways, the Congressional battles are more important than the Presidential election.

Her speech is followed by the vamp from "Mr. Big Stuff," which is somewhat disconcerting. Then Willie Nelson performs - is he Mr. Big Stuff? - which is even more so. Finally Madeline Albright comes out to the chorus of "To Be Real," and I give up trying to make sense of the song selections.

It's hard to believe it's only an hour into the show. I find myself missing the blather of Chris Matthews. Albright's speech strikes many of the same notes we've already heard, and I'm thinking someone should have gotten these drafts together and parceled out various parts of Kerry's story to various speakers. By the time Maddie gets to her childhood in Czechoslovakia, I'm reaching for the remote.

Next there's a series of average Americans - teachers, farmers, homemakers - explaining, in 50 words or less, why they're voting for Kerry. To quote Repo Man, "ordinary fucking people; I hate 'em." By the time Carole King shows up (singing "You've Got a Friend," surprise, surprise), I'm already on fast forward. This is the problem with taping the event. If I was home, I'd be channel hopping by now, seeing what the pundits had to say. As it is, I'm stuck with the clean-shaven sounds of Hooray for Everything.

Speaking of clean-shaven, Andre Heinz finally shows up. He looks a bit like Bert Convy, and I'm grateful when he doesn't address the Alabama delegation as the Banana Section. Family Night takes off as Chris Heinz puts in a cameo, Alex and Vanessa Kerry come out, and everybody hugs. Then they all go, except for Vanessa, the blonde Kerry daughter. Guess what? She likes her dad! She really, really likes him! He's warm and loving, not stiff and aloof! And he loves America! Stop the presses! Once she's warmed our cockles sufficiently, she brings back her sister, Alex(andra), the dark, brooding Kerry daughter. At 8:30, the tape shifts over to MSNBC, but Alex is still on screen. Chris Matthews is just here for the chicks. Alex's main function, outside of telling another inspirational story about her dad (He's good! And wise!), is to introduce the John Kerry infomercial.

These short films are now required viewing at every political convention. This one is narrated by Morgan Freeman, which makes it serious but reassuring. There's not much here you don't already know if you've been paying attention, which means for many Americans it will be a revelation. What I learn is that even as a kid, Kerry was funny looking. In one clip, he looks like Andrea Martin, which is unfortunate for both of them. His parents are both normal looking folks, as is his brother, so I'm not sure why he looks like one of those carved apples soaked in vinegar and then pressed in a vice. Kerry plays well on film. It's nice to see him out of the suit and kicking back for a change. He comes across as comfortable, relaxed and ... geez, just an ordinary guy. Which for him is a very big deal. Much of the film focuses on his service in Vietnam, 'cause it's Guns & Ammo night, you know. Then, after a brief pause, out come his war buddies, along with Jim Rassmann, the guy whose life he saved during the war. Rassmann speaks for the whole "band of brothers," but his main purpose is to bring out Max Cleland. Who proceeds to hit it out of the ballpark.

Cleland has his own ax to grind, since the Bush-led Republican party defeated his re-election bid for the Senate in 2002 by running ads which featured shots of Osama bin Laden and Saddam Hussein, and painted him as un-American. Cleland, who lost one arm and both legs in Vietnam and ran the Veterans Administration during the 70s, was understandably perturbed. This is his chance to exact some payback. And he seizes the moment. He starts with the tale of his own struggle back from the war that left him crippled. He tells of recognizing John Kerry as a brother even before he met him. He paints Kerry's vision of the country, building with each line, so that by the time he reaches, "That is the America John Kerry volunteered to fight for. That is the America John Kerry will lead," the crown is ready to carry Kerry, Cleland, and the dozen vets on stage out into the streets on their shoulders.

By the time Kerry actually enters the hall, he could have his way with any of the women and half the men.

Kerry opens by saluting the crowd and saying, "I'm John Kerry and I'm reporting for duty." They eat it up. I do not. I get it, and by now I'm sick of it. If a Republican candidate began a speech in this way, I would cringe and feel a little afraid. I'm not about to cut Kerry slack just because he's a Democrat. I know it's Guns & Ammo night, but I want fewer guns and more ammo. More meat and less potatoes. The beef up till now has been that Americans don't know who John Kerry is. I know who he is; now I want to hear what he has to say for himself.

As it turns out, it's quite a bit.

The first thing that strikes me about the speech is how unfairly John Kerry has been treated by the press. He's been painted as a Brahmin: intellectual, aloof, cold. He is none of those. He's very smart, and some people find that threatening. I'm pretty smart, and this guy comes across as a lot smarter than I am. He addresses those who mock him for being "nuanced," saying "I know there are those who criticize me for seeing complexities - and I do - because some issues just aren't all that simple." He's not as folksy as an airline pilot. He's not an orator in the style of Bill Clinton or Ronald Reagan or even John Edwards. But he's clear and straightforward and - to the point - understands what he's saying. One analyst compared him to a college professor. As someone who's studied under some excellent professors, I'd say that's not far from the truth. I doubt that many people who hadn't already been told he was standoffish would find him standoffish.

This audience in all his, of course, and they're with him every step of the way. The speech is long, and he cuts off applause when he must, to keep it moving. And move it does. Although it is close to an hour long, it doesn't seem much longer than Edwards' speech, which was half that. I'm not going to go into details about the content. By now, you've read it or seen it, and if you haven't, you should.

I will say this: it knocked me out. Of course, I wanted to like it, especially after spending all week with these guys. And as it started, with the biography, with Vietnam, with the early challenges and triumphs, it seemed like the same old thing. But slowly, steadily, and almost without warning, I was drawn in. Not by the language, which was effective but not stunning, and not by the delivery, which was strong but not moving. But by the sense that this guy was serious. Not just a serious guy, which he is, but someone who meant what he said. It's easy to call it "integrity" - which it certainly is - and leave it at that. But for me it was more. My heart began to rise. I liked Clinton for what he believed, but never trusted him to carry out those beliefs, especially if it meant people wouldn't like him. [I don't know why he cared, since people obviously didn't like him anyway.] But, for all the complaints about his "waffling," I began to believe that this guy would really do what he said.

And this is what I saw in the hall as well. The night before, John Edwards told us hope was on the way. In these delegates, I saw hope. Not just hope of winning back the White House, but hope of things getting better. For all their claims to the contrary, one of the things which separates me from the Republicans - possibly the main thing - is their cynicism. That's a word they constantly throw at Democrats, which always strikes me as odd, and quite frankly delusional. When I see cynicism in Democrats, it's because their hearts have been broken so often by those across the aisle. Tonight, I saw hope in the faces in Boston, and felt it in my own heart. By the end of the speech, I wanted to hug somebody.

I know. Take two martinis and call me in the morning.

Now this could all be a pile of bullshit. But I don't think so. And even if Kerry is elected, he's likely to be able to carry off very little of what he proposes. But the notion of a president who believes in personal responsibility, and doesn't consider himself exempt, who believes in science, who truly believes in unifying the nation and the parties, that's worth a little hope.

I've seen several stories that dim what hope I have. The first is the news that very few people even saw this, or any speech of the Convention. The major networks only covered the last hour each night, which is why the big speeches were squeezed into that time slot. But ratings dropped dramatically, typically 50%, from the 8 o'clock hour to the 9 o'clock. Cable channels didn't do much better. In Chicago, even when Barack Obama spoke, ratings remained level. In the Tribune, John Kass writes of being in a neighborhood bar in Boston which was showing the rain delay of a Red Sox game. When he why they weren't watching the Convention, the bartender told him, "Honey, nobody cares about politics." Some favorite son. He imagines the story will be the same in New York next month.

As it turns out, there may be little Kerry - or Bush - can do to change his fortunes. Right now, 39 of the 50 states have been called, with only 11 states truly considered in play. The Kerry campaign recently pulled ads from a few states, after it became apparent there was little they could do to sway those voters. We may be in for a repeat of the 2000 election, with Kerry winning the popular vote but losing in the Electoral College.

On top of everything, the Miss America pageant has decided to discontinue the talent competition from their event.

That's it for now. Now it's off to New York at the end of August. The Republican National Convention starts on the same day that classes begin, so I'm not guaranteeing anything. But I'll do my best.

Democratic National Convention, Day 3

2004-07-29T10:13:00.000-05:00

It's Day 3 of the Convention, and nothing is happening.

That's not completely true. Somewhere out there, according to what I hear on the wrap ups, Dennis Kucinich gave a stirring speech. I take this on blind faith, because I saw nothing of it on the televised coverage. Tonight John Edwards speaks in prime time, and until then it's nothing but blather.

I've pretty much settled on MSNBC as my primary source for Convention coverage. The first night I went with CNN, figuring they'd be the least biased. They also seemed to have the best sound, oddly enough. Even now, speakers who sound muffled on MSNBC come across loud and clear on CNN. But you're also stuck with Larry King. Apparently, Larry's show is regularly scheduled for 9 pm Eastern Time, and he's not about to give it up just for some freakin' convention. So every night at 8, Chicago time, Wolf Blitzer goes away and Larry King takes over. MSNBC features Chris Matthews for their entire coverage, in some live, extended Hardball format. That I should prefer Chris Matthews over anyone (other than Bill "Satan" O'Reilly) gives you an idea of how much I cannot abide Larry King.

Matthews has actually been fairly well behaved the past few nights. Unlike the fux at FOX, he has enough of an open mind that he can respond positively to the likes of Barack Obama and Teresa Heinz Kerry, who I think he has a crush on. Tonight he interviewed the Democratic governor of Virginia, and let him have his say, even when 1) he wasn't answering Matthews' questions, and 2) he was repeating himself. Matthews has actually gotten fairly comfortable with people not answering his questions, perhaps because no one ever does. Tonight, his prime question is, "Is Edwards capable of being president, or was he chosen just to enhance the ticket?" The correct answer, according to Matthews, is B, he was chosen just to enhance the ticket, and everyone knows it (since he repeats it endlessly), so everyone just humors him. Part of Matthews' dislike for Edwards (though he does praise his speech) stems from the fact that he also has a crush on Dick Cheney. Tonight in particular, he mentions Cheney's name so many times that I become Dracula's daughter and scream, "Will you stop talking about that Dick!!!"

When I tune in, at 7 pm CDT (as all times will be from here on out) - which for me is prime time - some black man is ranting in the distance. And no, it's not Al Sharpton. And it doesn't sound like Jesse Jackson, though I hear he spoke today. I assume it's a black man, but it could be a white woman with a deep voice and a Baptist preacher style. Ron Reagan told us last night that the inclination is to shout, since the hall is so loud you can't hear yourself think. The Dems have put together an instructional video of Dos and Don'ts, and are priming the speakers before they go on. Apparently whoever's on stage now missed the lesson. In addition to speaking conversationally, since the directional mic will pick up your voice no matter what, the tutors encourage you not to hold too long for laughter or applause, because the din never completely dies down. They apparently have a clip of Jack Kemp delivering an address during which minutes seem to pass while he stares out at the audience. This tip may be why some speakers seem to be rushing through applause, but I'm happy they're keeping up the pace.

The first speaker I get to see, about 20 minutes in, is Al Sharpton, who doesn't need any instruction. He's here to rally the troops, and rally he does. Apparently Al was given 6 minutes to speak, and took 20, which causes some consternation among the pundits but not among the Party, which has scheduled 30 minutes of flab time into the evening, for just such an event. I feel two things. One, when has Al Sharpton ever spoken for 6 minutes? For him, that's a breakfast order. And two, you invite Al Sharpton, you take what you get.

Over the course of the primary season and some 20 debates on the trail, Al has toned down his appearance. He now looks like Toni Morrison in male drag. But he's brought the old fashioned hootin' and hollerin' and the crowd loves it. It takes a fiery black preacher to get fat white grandmas rolling their fists in the air and whooping it up.

And I'm right there with them. I know as well as anyone that Al is at least 60% clown, but he's a hell of a speaker and a great entertainer and you can't help but get swept away. He injects some serious Bush-bashing into a party that has for the most part been civil, and we're happy to cut loose. He opens by saying he's going to answer Bush's questions to the Urban League last week, so you know there's trouble ahead. It's hard to summarize Sharpton, because he's all over the place, but here are a few sound bites.

On Iraq: "When it became clear that there were no weapons, they changed the premise for the war. ... If I told you tonight, 'Let's leave the Fleet Center, we're in danger,' and when you get outside you ask me, 'Reverend Al, what is the danger?' and I say, 'It don't matter, we just needed some fresh air,' I have misled you and we were misled."

On impending openings on the Supreme Court: "I suggest to you tonight that if George Bush had selected the Court in '54, Clarence Thomas would never have gotten to law school."

On English as an official language: "No one gave them an English test before they sent them to Iraq to fight for America."

On electoral rights for DC citizens: "It, to me, is a glaring contradiction that we would fight, and rightfully so, to get the right to vote for the people in the capital of Iraq, in Baghdad, but still don't give the federal right to vote for the people in the capital of the United States in Washington, DC."

Such is Al's power that each point, disconnected as it is, gets a bigger and bigger response. Then finally, in his closing, Al gets to Bush's suggestion that the Democratic Party takes black voters for granted, and that they'd be better off with the Republicans. Sharpton falls back on the 40 acres and a mule trope, but spins it this way: "We never got the 40 acres. We didn't get the mule. So we decided we'd ride this donkey as far as it would take us." The crowd is on their feet, cheering for nearly a full minute (53 seconds by my watch) before he can continue. He follows up on the relationship of African Americans and the Democratic Party until he culminates with, "In all respect, Mr. President, read my lips: Our vote is not for sale."

This is too much for Chris Matthews, who starts talking over Sharpton's speech, telling us that this is a guy who started his career with a lie, and then goes into the Tawana Brawley story. I can't argue his point, and wouldn't care to if I could. I'm not that big a Sharpton fan. It's Matthews, just 20 minutes earlier, who was going on about what a great speaker Sharpton is and how entertaining he is and joking - joking! - about which came first, Al or Bonfire of the Vanities (which he credits to Thomas Wolfe). So it seems a bit disingenuous, at best, for him now to be shocked by his rhetoric. Also, I want to remind him that as a commentator, his job is to respond to the speakers rather than interrupt them.

Instead, I switch to CNN.

Al's pretty much done as it is. The concern of the pundits - in addition to whether or not John and Elizabeth Edwards will make it into their prime time slot (short answer: easily) is whether the speech is "on message." They remind us, for the hundredth time, that this convention is all about staying positive, and that no one's supposed to attack Bush or the Republican Party, except maybe Jimmy Carter. They imagine how the organizers of the Convention are responding, and I think, Is there really anyone who was surprised by this? Sure, all the failed candidates got a chance to speak, but Carol Moseley Braun was at 4 in the afternoon and Dick Gephardt's working the panels. Jesse Jackson spoke today, but he didn't end up in prime time. As far as I can tell, the only ones who spoke in the evening were Sharpton and Howard Dean (and supposedly Dennis Kucinich, out there, somewhere). The Dems had the sense to schedule him at 7, knowing the networks weren't picking up the feed until 9, so the only ones who saw him were those who know better.

At the same time, I notice a story scrolling by at the bottom of the screen. As you may have read, computer crashes in Florida have deleted electronic voting records for Miami-Dade County. The records in question were detailed data from the 2002 gubernatorial primary, which may seem insignificant. Indeed, a spokesperson for the Secretary of State maintains that "There's a very distinct difference between votes being lost and data that they are required to retain for 22 months being lost." This is a compelling argument for anyone who's never used a computer. In my experience, it's far easier to lose new data in a crash than old data. Further troubling is that the data was lost more than 8 months ago, and is just being reported now. Suddenly, Sharpton's concerns about disenfranchisement in Florida seem less remote.

Meanwhile, nothing happens for another 90 minutes.

Then, just after 9, Cate Edwards appears. Cate is the oldest daughter of John and Elizabeth, and she's cute as a bug, but she kind of sounds like she's from The O.C., so there's only so much I can take of her. Cate is there to introduce Liz who will introduce John. They're like Russian nesting dolls. After the speech, the Edwards' two smallest children are brought out, so you can complete the set.

Cate describes her mom as both as lawyer and a PTA member, and when Elizabeth comes out, she is the soccer mom incarnate. She wears cool blue, in contrast to Teresa's fiery red, and their difference in dress reflects their difference in style. Elizabeth is cute and round and cheery, and she would never tell you to shove it. As she describes her husband, she makes him sound like a hell of a Rotarian.

Finally John appears, as the sound system blares "(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher." The entire evening has been scored by hits from 20 to 30 years ago (or in this case, nearly 40), in an attempt to recapture Bill Clinton's love affair with Fleetwood Mac. The Edwards camp favors the Jackie Wilson version over the Bette Midler remake, which isn't surprising for such nice clean people. The happy couple embraces - no Gorrifying smooch - and it's good that Elizabeth is so diminutive, because she makes John look less like a hobbit. Officially, he's 6 feet tall, but that must involve 2 inch lifts. He's also 51 years old, but looks at least 20 years younger. Either the devil has his name on a piece of parchment or there's a painting in his attic that looks like, well, John Kerry.

Edwards opens by remarking what a great job Teresa did last night. It's always good to suck up to the boss's wife. He also says, "Now, you know why Elizabeth is so amazing." Umm, 'cause she likes you? Liz had about 2 minutes and didn't reveal much more than that. After mentioning the rest of his sprawling brood, he offers a heartfelt tribute to his parents, who are present, and I think, "This will play in Peoria."

When Edwards discusses Kerry, he immediately and wisely places him in the role of Commander in Chief. These guys know that national security is where they've got to beef up their numbers, so while he's happy to let others talk happy talk, Edwards opens with the big guns. Then he grabs the values card, saying, "Where I come from, you don't judge someone's values based on how they use that word in a political ad. You judge their values based upon what they've spent their life doing. So when a man volunteers to serve his country, and puts his life on the line for others - that's a man who represents real American values." He follows that with an attack on attack ads, accusing the Republicans of "doing all they can to take this campaign for the highest office in the land down the lowest possible road." I hear this Edwards character is a lawyer. Almost immediately he issues what we in the marketing game refer to as "a call to action:" "This is where you come in. ... you can reject the tired, old, hateful, negative, politics of the past. And instead you can embrace the politics of hope, the politics of what's possible because this is America, where everything is possible."

This will play in Peoria.

By 9:30, Edwards has launched into his "Two Americas" stump speech. All of the reporters and most of the faithful have heard it before, but tonight Edwards is talking to the people at home. He is the first speaker since Clinton on Monday night to specifically speak beyond the hall, directly to the electorate. The speech is fairly simple: there are two Americas, one for those with money and another for those who work and struggle and can't get ahead. But as he spins it through its various iterations - health care, education, economy - you can see he's buffed it to a high gloss finish. And for a change, someone gives specifics. He talks dollars, and you think, at least for the moment, "Hey. Maybe he's serious."

[One thing he talks about is offering tax breaks for American companies that keep jobs at home and close those for companies that outsource. And I'm thinking, if we stopped offering any tax breaks to companies with more than, say, 100 employees and closed the sort of loopholes that allowed companies to incorporate in the Cayman Islands, we'd pay down the deficit in a year and a half.]

There's one topic that makes Edwards an old style Democrat in this New Democrat era: he addresses poverty. For him, it's a moral issue: allowing poverty to exist in the richest country in the world is morally wrong. And after years of hearing that premarital sex is wrong, that men sleeping together is wrong, that getting an abortion is wrong, hearing a politician state that allowing poverty is wrong is heartening. It's 1964.

As Edwards heads into the stretch, he launches into a series of short statements that ends with what he expects will be the rallying cry of this campaign: Hope is on the way. As he continues, the audience chants with him, holding up their "Hope Is On the Way" placards, just as they all shook their blue "Elizabeth" signs earlier and their red "Teresa" sign yesterday, and their long "Edwards" signs all along, and I'm thinking, "Whoever has the sign franchise for this event is making out like a bandit."

But I'm also thinking, this will play in Peoria.

Now it's up to Kerry to see if he can top Edwards. It's lucky for him that the bar has been set so low. Everyone expects him to be a stiff, so if he pulls it off at all, it's a triumph. But after Obama and Clinton and now Edwards, he really needs to knock it out of the park. Kerry goes up at 9 tonight, Chicago time, following veteran soldier and senator Max Cleland and a cadre of Kerry's fellows from the war. If it's anything like last night, it will be preceded by plenty of nothing, so I can't encourage you to tune in early.

Democratic National Convention, Day 2

2004-07-28T10:14:00.000-05:00

Tonight started off as the sophomore slump of the Convention. Prime time opened with Ted Kennedy, the most Republican looking of the Dems. Ted has taken on the appearance of a bloated plutocrat, and could easily play an oily political boss in a Frank Capra epic. His growing years and girth, combined with his Irish-American heritage, brings to mind Jimmy Cagney's turn as the crooked police chief in Ragtime.

When Ted speaks, though, there's no doubt where his allegiances lie. He revels in welcoming the delegates to a town he calls the cradle of liberty, and makes pointed comments comparing George Bush II with King George III. He draws a line from John Adams to John Kennedy to John Kerry, and conjures Paul Revere and the Boston Tea Party. He paraphrases FDR and evokes the marches in Selma and Birmingham in a speech that, save for references to the Berlin Wall and Tiananmen Square, could easily have been delivered 30 years ago.

But for all his fiery rhetoric, there are few sparks in his delivery. Ted is 72 years old, and could easily pass for 80. His oratory skills have weakened, and his voice croaks and cracks like that of a highschooler in his first play. He stumbles frequently: when he speaks of George Bush dividing the nation, he says that he sets "City against surba ... surban ... suburrrrr." God bless the old coot, he rails against Enron and Haliburton and says Dick Cheney should be "retired to an undisclosed location." He quotes John Adams' prayer that "none but the honest and wise" ever live in the White House, with the implication that the current resident is neither. But he is little more than the shambling wreck of his former self. Commentators refer to him as a Lion in Winter, but there's more winter than lion in evidence.

Old home week continues with Howard Dean's appearance. Dean's remarkably brief speech is little more than a compilation of his greatest hits. He opens by saying, "I was hoping for a reception like this. I was just hoping that it would be on Thursday night," as if he is unaware that Al Gore made almost the exact same joke 25 hours previously. He then goes on to recycle his time-honed maxims: "we ... represent the Democratic wing of the Democratic Party," "we can take our country back," "never again will we be ashamed to call ourselves Democrats."

I appreciate all that Dean has done for the Democratic Party. He is credited with demonstrating how to use the Internet to build a grassroots movement, but for me, his real strength was telling Democrats it was okay to be pissed off, and encouraging them to go on the offensive. The Democratic Party has become such a middle child, trying so hard to make everyone else happy. For me, Howard Dean is a descendant of that other Howard, Beale, who encouraged us all to say, "I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this any more!" The Dean Scream, for which he was chided, was little more than the natural extension of his rallying cry. That said, his appearance at the Convention serves as a reminder of what a bullet we dodged when his ship finally sank. For all his past vigor, Dean comes across as the governor of a small New England state. He is an avuncular firebrand. There will be little press response to his remarks.

Then Barack Obama shows up and blows the roof off the joint.

Obama is being hailed as a rising star in the Democratic Party, despite the fact that he is, at present, merely a state senator. That is likely to change in November, as he is currently running unopposed for the US Senate. The Party's confidence in him is demonstrated by placing him in the plum keynote spot. His speech serves both to support that confidence, and to further narrow the field of Republicans who are likely to run against him.

Whoever serves on Obama's writing staff deserves a huge raise after this address. It is structurally brilliant. It serves to introduce him to the American public, the vast majority of whom - including, most likely, many of those at the Convention - have never heard of him. It highlights his particular experience of the American Dream: the son of a Kenyan student, himself the son of domestic servant; his mother a child of the heartland, his grandfather a veteran of World War II who signed up the day after Pearl Harbor. He tells us his parents gave him an African name, "believing that in a tolerant America your name is no barrier to success." He omits his Harvard education, understanding that in today's America, brains are perceived as a drawback.

Obama addresses his remarks to all Americans, "Democrats, Republicans, Independents," and this inclusion serves as the keystone of his address. He mocks the notion of red states and blue states, he holds the belief that we are all our brothers' and sisters' keepers, he takes to task the pundits and spin masters and ad peddlers. He uses repetition and parallel construction, creating a presentation that offers as much in sound as sense. He ties his fortunes in with Kerry and Edwards in a politics of hope, climaxing with a call for "the audacity of hope." After the rambling rhetoric of Kennedy and Dean, this is a speech.

Still, a speech is only as good as the speaker, and Obama brings the goods. Clips of the speech will be shown on the news, but as with Clinton's address the night before, the speech works best in totality. Obama holds the audience in his grasp, capturing them with a style which is compelling without the "speechifyin'" of a Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton. He is confident without being aggressive, portraying himself as "a skinny kid with a funny name." When he speaks of people he's met in his travels, it comes off not as a tired political trope, but as a tale from the heart. When he calls to "eradicate the slander that says a black youth with a book is acting white," both blacks and whites rise in applause. In fact, his greatest flaw as a speaker right now is that he has difficulty judging when to hold for applause. As he learns to ride an audience's mood, to surf the swells of their response, his effectiveness will continue to grow.

Ron Reagan speaks next, in support of stem cell research. I become nostalgic for August of 2001, when this topic was supposed to be the defining issue of the Bush presidency. Reagan acquits himself well enough that his presence comes across as more than mere stunt casting, a Reagan opposing a Bush. He has the cantor of a higher pitched John Wayne, however, and all I can focus on is that he has the worst hair and teeth in show business. He manages to reduce Chris Matthews to gushing, though, so the appearance is worth my while.

Then comes Teresa Heinz Kerry. THK has been portrayed as something of a loose cannon, especially after she told a reporter to shove it earlier this week. I, of course, am all in favor of political pundits being told to shove it, so this is not a problem for me. Still, there is some concern about her presence at the convention. The audience is warmed up by a video playing out her now well-known saga: raised under a dictatorship in Mozambique, protesting apartheid in Johannesburg, meeting and marrying Jack "Ketchup King" Heinz, his early death in a helicopter accident, her second marriage to John Kerry. She is introduced by her son, Chris Heinz, who is young and funny and good-looking, which puts the audience more at ease. Then out comes this little lady in a bright red suit, who hugs her son, praises her children, and then says, "I hope it will come as no surprise to anyone that I have something to say."

Trepidation gone.

For my money, Heinz Kerry is the star of the show. She does not have the rhetorical chops of Barack Obama, but she speaks from the heart, and says what she thinks. In particular, she speaks on behalf of women. "My right to speak my mind," she tells us, "to have a voice, to be what some have called 'opinionated,' is a right I deeply and profoundly cherish. My only hope is that, one day soon, women - who have all earned the right to their opinions - instead of being labeled opinionated, will be called smart or well-informed, just as men are."

Heinz Kerry has certainly earned that right. In admitting that apartheid grew in South Africa despite the efforts of its opponents, she still proclaims the value of taking a stand, even if it fails. When she speaks of her concerns - the role of America in the world, civil liberties, the environment - she does so as someone who has devoted millions of dollars and thousands of hours to these causes. She speaks with pride of her husband and family. She does not pull her punches, saying, for example, that the Vietnam Memorial "testif[ies] to the awful toll exacted by leaders who mistake stubbornness for strength." Her words are pointed, even when her tone, at times, is light.

For me, her speech is weakest when it focuses on her husband, the candidate. Heinz Kerry has strong views. We can assume she shares many of them with her husband. Even when they do not agree, we can assume that he is man enough to accept their differences. She is speaking in support of John Kerry, of course, and so we must expect her to put forth his agenda. But for me, she makes her point best when she speaks of our need for "a leader willing to draw again on the mystic chords of our national memory and remind us of all that we, as a people, everyday leaders, can do," and then undercuts it with, "I think I've found just the guy."

The question put forth by the pundits is how THK will play in Peoria. There is a feeling among many that she it too highly spiced for the breadbasket of the nation. She speaks five languages, she speaks with an accent, she speaks her mind. There is a sense that a nation raised on mayonnaise with not be able to digest Dijon mustard. For truly, she is no more highly spiced than that. Chris Matthews compares her to coffee: when you first drink it, you find it bitter, but later you discover you can't live without it. I want to shake the pundits, to tell them that as long as you say she is strange, Middle America will find her strange. In truth, though, many of us have had a Teresa Heinz Kerry in our life. She is the sharp tongued aunt who tells you what you need to hear, even when your parents won't. She's the hard teacher you love because for once, someone won't let you get away with slacking off. She's the waitress at the diner who doesn't pull her punches, whether you're the mailman, mayor or King of Egypt.

She will be painted as an elitist when in fact she simply refuses to apologize for being smart. And it's about time.

Tonight, the Convention continues with John Edwards accepting the Vice Presidential nomination at 9 pm CDT. Also on hand will be failed candidate Dennis Kucinich and Convention Chairman, Governor Bill Richardson.

Me and the RNC

2004-07-08T10:26:00.000-05:00

I received a fundraising letter from the Republican National Committee yesterday - or more properly, from Mike Retzer, the Treasurer of the RNC - asking why the have yet to receive my membership renewal for this year.

To my knowledge, I have never contributed to the RNC. The closest I've gotten is paying for cable from RCN. But for the past few years, I've been receiving emails, and lately snail mail, from the reds. This latest letter begins, "I don't want to believe you've abandoned the Republican Party, but I have to ask ... Have you given up?"

I felt it was only fair to reply. So instead of a contribution, I sent this letter.

Dear Mike,

Thanks for your letter. But I'm sorry to inform you that I have given up on the Republican Party.

For years, I put up with the Party's views on abortion, even though I felt the issue was beneath us, and that it contradicted our belief in individual responsibility. I disagreed with the War on Drugs, but let it pass, even though it was so obviously a waste of tax dollars, because I supported the Party's approach to crime in general. Time and again, when our leaders proposed measures I found pointless, I stayed the course, with a belief that the underlying rationale was sensible.

I no longer find that to be the case.

I cannot support this Administration. As difficult as this is to admit, I find President Bush to be even more morally vacuous than Bill Clinton. His attempts to mislead us with half truths, obfuscation, and all-out lies are heartbreaking. The passing of Ronald Reagan served to remind me what it was like to have a strong leader with heartfelt beliefs who spoke his mind without fear. In his shadow, the current Administration appear no greater than a gang of thugs.

In your letter, you write of "President's Bush's agenda of cutting taxes, strengthening homeland and national defense, and improving education." These issues are all important to me. But we cannot defend ourselves and cut taxes at the same time. I am willing to make sacrifices in time of war, as I believe are most Americans. Tempting us with lower taxes at a time when every dollar counts is shameful. Our educational system is in a shambles. As a university educator, I am confronted daily with students who are ill equipped for higher education. But the writing and reasoning skills they need will not be improved by the type of testing this Administration supports. Basic skill building - the hard work you and I did in school 30 or 40 years ago - is what is missing from the classroom today. Not more standardized testing.

Noticeably absent from your letter is any mention of homosexual marriage, which is a "hot topic" right now. The Party's focus on this issue, like that of abortion, is embarrassing to me. Do we truly have nothing more pressing to consider than whether or not homosexuals can marry? I understand the President's need to pander to the lowest common denominator of his base, but I find it repellent.

I have not made any final decisions about how I intend to vote in November. While I am not a supporter of Mr. Kerry, I do find that he has a gravitas sorely missing in our candidate. When November comes, I may simply not vote. The prospect saddens me.

I don't expect you to see this letter. I imagine some volunteer, seeing it contains no contribution, will throw it away. But if we lose power this Autumn, it will be because of people like me, who mourn the loss of true Republican ideals, and are too disillusioned to vote.

Thank you,

John Bliss
Chicago, IL

Happy Independence Weekend!

2004-07-02T10:16:00.000-05:00

Do you realize that Independence Day is the only American holiday that's celebrated on its actual calendar date? You may have Monday off, if you work for a particularly progressive company, but Sunday is the actual holiday. Christmas is always December 25, and New Year's Day is always January 1, but those aren't particularly American, now are they? And Halloween isn't a holiday. (For Halloween, substitute Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, Flag Day, et al.) But MLK Day (Civil/Human Rights Day in New Hampshire and Utah), President's Day (now that they jammed Washington and Lincoln together. We used to have TWO holidays, people!), Memorial Day, Labor Day, Columbus Day - all Mondays. Thanksgiving is the holdout, but it's on its own schedule. Even Administrative Assistants' Day (once Sexetaries' Day) is the Wednesday before the last Saturday in April, rather than a specific date. You can't celebrate the 4th of July on any day but July 4th.

Other than that, Independence Day is a holiday that you know everything about. You probably know that not everyone signed the Declaration of Independence on July 4. In fact, no one did, but that's the day the final version of the document was adopted by the Second Continental Congress. (The resolution that led to the writing of the Declaration did not pass until July 2, although Jefferson and company were appointed to compose it on June 10.) By the following year, the 4th was being celebrated, and in 1783, the year the Revolution ended, it was made an official holiday. It has always been celebrated the way it is today, as John Adams predicted it would be, "as the great anniversary festival ... it ought to be celebrated by pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations from one end of this continent to the other."

It's hard to be patriotic these days. It's not hard to love the country, but it's hard to raise the flag, as that puts you in league with people of such questionable nature. Patriotism has been co-opted by the "Love It or Leave It" crowd, and criticizing the officials who temporarily hold power is likely to get you branded a traitor. These small minded people forget that the most patriotic duty a citizen can undertake is to challenge the government. They forget what Jefferson wrote, that "Governments are instituted among Men" to secure their rights, "deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed." In these increasingly bureaucratic times, it is easy to lose sight that power does, indeed, lie with the people. Communication is supposed to be a two way proposition, not just from the Government to us, but from us to the Government. To accept the will of the Government blindly is contrary to Jefferson's cause. Furthermore, "whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it." It is the genius of the Constitution to assure that, despite the efforts of gerrymandering Texans, elected positions are indeed temporary, and the People have the right (if they exercise it) to alter or abolish the Government regularly.

True Treason is assuming that those who disagree with you love the country less than you do.

For those of you uncomfortable with Independence Day - perhaps for reasons I've outlined above, perhaps for reasons of your own - let me suggest an alternative.

We all have things from which we would like to be independent (a bad habit, a bad family, a bad president) or from which we have recently become independent (a bad job, a bad car, a bad spouse). Use this opportunity to celebrate dissolving those bands, political or other, which have connected you with another person, place or thing, and oppressed you in whatever way. Assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle you. Celebrate your own independence, or make plans to become more independent. Recognize and cherish your Life, your Fortune, and your sacred Honor.

That ain't half bad.

Current Events

2004-07-01T22:17:00.000-05:00

The trial of Saddam Hussein began today. Is it just me, or does The Butcher of Baghdad sound like a member of the WWE? Or at least the NFL. Hussein referred to the proceedings as "theater," a charge which is hard to dismiss considering that a formal indictment has yet to be compiled. A list of broad charges was read at his arraignment, including the usual gassing of Kurds and assassination of political opponents. Also on the list is the invasion of Kuwait. Considering the evidence that the US used to back its invasion of Iraq, this last charge is touchy territory.

Saddam's big mistake is not hiring Johnny Cochran as his attorney. I can hear it now: "If the tyrant is a potentate, you must exonerate." On the other hand, the lawyer his family did hire for him was not allowed into the courtroom, so I suppose it doesn't make any difference. Scott McClellan, George Bush's mouthpiece (when Dick Cheney is out of the room), said "Saddam Hussein is going to face justice he denied the Iraqi people." Apparently that justice doesn't involve legal representation.

The head of the Iraqi Special Tribunal is Salem Chalabi. If that name sounds familiar, it's because he's the nephew of suspected spy Ahmad Chalabi. This is the guy who urged the administration into Iraq (as if they needed the push) with intelligence on weapons of mass destruction, including the infamous "mobile labs," and in return, was placed on the Governing Council once Saddam fell.

Ah, Iraq! The more things change ...

In local news, last weekend was the Gay Pride Parade, and as promised, Mayor Daley ... did NOT show up. Bassid. Neither did senatorial candidate Barack Obama, who was said to be in Springfield. With Jack Ryan dropping out of the race, I suppose he felt his presence was no longer compulsory. Also noticeably absent were the Log Cabin Republicans, the gay Republicans who generally appear. This year, their stance seems more oxymoronic than usual. Their absence is one more indication that the Federal Marriage Amendment may do more harm than good to the administration's chances this fall. The Log Cabins are not the President's base, but their lack of support may have some effect in swing states. Which is not stopping Senate Republicans from pushing for a vote on the amendment this month, in order to put John Kerry on the spot just prior to the Democratic National Convention.

It's nice that George Bush is a uniter, so that his cronies can be dividers.

Gay Marriage was a central issue in the Dyke March & Rally last weekend. When I set out to Clark and Foster to see it, I assumed I had gotten the date wrong, since traffic was still moving on both streets at the time the March was supposed to be starting. When I got to the corner, though, I saw several squad cars, and a group of lesbians (a "babble" of lesbians? a "tackle" of lesbians?) gathering in the schoolyard down the street. Finally, the cops stopped traffic in one lane of Foster, and the grrrlz set out into the street. A friend and I joined them for a block or so, showing our support. 20 minutes later, it was all over. Like so many things. I made the mistake of wearing a T-shirt from the Star Trek Experience in Vegas, not realizing that Trekkers and Dykes overlapped to such an extent. "What's your favorite series?" came the call. Ashamed to admit it was Deep Space Nine, which is essentially Star Trek Hotel, I followed their lead and resorted to "Captain Janeway, wooo!"