Home on a Friday evening?
Fire up the colortinis.
This YouTube clip has it all.
The year and the attitude are 1978. Dennis Kucinich, then-mayor of Cleveland, Ohio and at 32, the youngest mayor of a major city in the United States, is on the Tomorrow Show on NBC with the late, great Tom Snyder, and he has just survived a recall election by the slimmest of margins. As Cleveland's mayor from 1977 to '79, Kucinich refused to sell off the city's publicly-owned electric utility to a corporate entity, causing the mafia to put out a hit on him, and forcing the city into default after the Cleveland Trust company required that all city debts be paid in full in the wake of his refusal.
The clip features a courageous politician-- a man who is still an important political figure-- and one of television's most-engaging personalities as the pair dine at a Cleveland restaurant the morning following the election. It's a captivating time capsule as broadcast television and a great civics lesson.
As a footnote to Kucinich's tumultuous mayoral tenure in what Snyder calls "one of America's great eastern cities," the Cleveland city council honored Dennis in 1998 for having the "courage and foresight" to keep the utility under public ownership, a move that saved the city an estimated $195 million between 1985 and 1995.
When you gotta go
If only Idaho Republican Senator and closet-case Larry Craig had a wide stance on gay rights instead of just a "wide stance" in public bathroom stalls while cruising for oral sex.
Senator Craig this week says that he now regrets pleading guilty in court to the charge of soliciting sex in an airport bathroom back in June, and that that his actions in the toilet stall that spring day were misconstrued by an undercover police officer. Craig was not, in fact, tapping his foot and then moving it closer to the foot of the stranger in the adjoining stall to signal a desire for fellatio. He simply uses "a wide stance," you see, when he urinates. Craig then blamed his original guilty plea on public pressure from an Idaho newspaper-- the senator apparently having been the first heterosexual man in world history wrongly accused of a homosexual act to plead guilty "in hopes of making it go away."
No one in America actually believes Craig, of course. Not after Jeff Gannon, the Reverend Ted Haggard, Representative Mark Foley, and John McCain's former campaign co-chair in the state of Florida. Not after years of suspicion, accusations, and clumsy denials on the part of Craig about his sexual orientation.
Should Americans care one way or the other which direction Craig's peeter teeters, as Rip Torn's character on "Larry Sanders" once so eloquently put it? You're damn right they should because our tolerance and sympathy for the senator's guilt and shame over his sexual and biological imperative ends where his legislative persecution of his fellow homosexuals begins.
First, this isn't a case involving Craig's private bedroom behavior, it's a case that involves a
public restroom and an arrest by a municipal law enforcement official. For another thing, we have a modern political climate in which homosexuals are completely unwelcome within the tent of one of the two major political parties, and in the other major party, the de facto presidential nominee for 2008
believes that second class citizenship in matters of marriage should be a matter for that last great refuge of the bigots in their defense of "liberty"-- state's rights.
The "closeted gay homophobe" has become a common-- almost tired-- cliche in political circles, but the latest incident speaks again to the level of self-hate that fuels so much of the "family values," moralizing garbage in the culture... and just for the record, Robert Theobald of Comprehensive Colorectal Care, in today's Slate, says that if you fellas are having trouble passing stools, you should take the opposite of a wide stance at the toilet. Lean back. It relaxes the bowel muscles.
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Leona Helmsley left $12 million to her dog in her will. That's more dough than a Maltese could ever truly need. I hope she gives some of it to Michael Vick's canine victims.
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One St. Louis Cardinals player deserves special props for his role in boosting the club back into division contention during the month of August. Super-closer Jason Isringhausen refused to waive his no-trade clause and be dealt away at the trade deadline July 31st, saying that he wanted to stay close to his hometown (Brighton, IL), and that he wanted to see the club make another run at the top, a prospect which seemed remarkably dim at the time. This type of player action is typically and cynically interpreted as a product of selfishness and/or is quickly forgotten, but the Cards' all-time saves leader, I believe, is "jones-ing" for something special. He suffered from a bum hip late last season and was forced to watch from the sidelines during the team's post-season championship run. Even modest justice for the ultra-professional Isringhausen translates into another Cards' title this October.
First in the nation
The early campaign season has long been dominated by the Iowa Caucuses and the New Hampshire Primary, but the 48 other nifty states have grown tired of conceding their political power to the Hawkeye and Granite States, and the revolts have begun in earnest. Legislative action in states such as Florida and Nevada moving up the primary dates for the 2008 campaign cycle may cause Iowa Democrats and Republicans to go to the polls as early as November of
this year to adhere to a state law mandating a first-in-the-nation voting status.
Howard Dean, chairman of the Democratic National Committee, has given Florida officials 30 days to abandon their newly-determined January 29th primary date, and if they refuse to comply, will strip them of all of their '08 convention delegates. In effect, this would make the Florida race, a "beauty pageant," with the results being merely cosmetic, the equivalent, if you will, of the Iowa Republicans' mid-summer straw poll.
What we're seeing is the growing dissatisfaction, state by state, of voters that feel powerless within the two parties' nomination structure. The irony is that Dean is acting to preserve the Iowa/New Hampshire, status quo voting apparatus that leveled his own presidential campaign in 2004; and the harsh reality is that no primary schedule these two parties choose will make them more accountable to their neglected constituents. The checks have been cashed.
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The United Transportation Union, with 125,000 members working in the railroad, bus, and public transportation industries, threw their political weight today behind the White House candidacy of Hillary Clinton. This is the first major union endorsement of the season for a candidate who has been a champion of corporate globalism, a woman who has opposed the renegotiation of the working-class-crippling World Trade Organization, North American Free Trade Agreement, and the early 1990s measure that permanently normalized trade relations with China's totalitarian government, all of which have led to a $900 billion trade deficit for the United States.
The labor movement is dead. Or extremely sleepy.
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During my absence the last two weeks, poor people in American began exerting their economic power. Barbara Ehrenreich
explains.
Katya's journal
One week in preschool and already my 3-year-old sister Katya is eager to show off her artistic sensibility. On Sunday, unbeknownst to her father, she grabbed the digital camera and began snapping
pictures of some of the people and objects in her world. There's talk of a photo collection under the lucrative format of the coffee-table book, but at the very least, her parents should be able to share a few of her pictures with their insurance company.
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Quote of the day: the late, great Yankees broadcaster Phil Rizzuto, calling a close play at home plate during a game in the 1980s--
"They'll never get him... They got him. How do you like that? Holy cow! I changed my mind before he got there, so that doesn't count as my error."
An unexpected delay
Just an update on my move: Internet access in my new building has come up against some unanticipated roadblocks, but I want to thank my brother for filling the space this week with his mindless prattle, and I want everyone to know that I'm keeping busy. Everything else in the condo (except for the cable TV) is raring to go, the Cardinals room is about half-completed, and I even had a chance on Sunday to go to the Iowa State Fair and check out the Rick Ankiel butter sculpture. I'll be in touch shortly.
Cedar Rapids Cub Fan/Dork Expo 2007 – by Aaron Moeller
Sent on a mission from fellow blogger David Levenhagen, my girlfriend Becky and I attended the Cedar Rapids Kernels baseball game on Thursday night to see former Cub secondbaseman and surprise Hall of Fame selection Ryne Sandberg who was in town managing the Peoria Chiefs. Since the death of my paternal grandparents, Dave and Becky, along with my cousins in Davenport, including assistant blogger, Nick Dee, have the shared distinction of being the only Cub fans allowed into my privileged inner circle.
Dave came to Cedar Rapids over the 4th of July weekend – the last time the Chiefs were in town – and scouted out the place for potential autograph opportunities. But with a young daughter and expecting wife, he asked me for this favor. Becky and I, equipped with official Major League baseballs purchased at Dick’s Sporting Goods were outside the stadium standing in line a good forty minutes before the gates opened.
I was feeling pretty good as my Cincinnati Reds had just taken two of three games from the Chicago Cubs at Wrigley Field, but I didn’t wear any of my Cincinnati Reds clothing. On Tuesday I had attended an afternoon Kernels game with one of my bosses. (Counting last Saturday’s concert – referenced on this blog Thursday – this was my third visit to a minor league baseball park in the last six days.) For that game I showed up at the ballpark attired in my authentic mid-90s Barry Larkin Reds jersey, garnering no comments from the obviously intimidated crowd, but I did receive many appreciative stares and the respect of hundreds. On this Thursday night, however, for the first time ever, I didn’t want anyone to know I was a Reds fan.
Nothing, I thought, would be more embarrassing than being an obvious Reds fan standing in line for Ryne Sandberg’s autograph. In honor of that same day’s announcement of a new Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band album in October, I wore my E Street Tour 1999 t-shirt. But even then, I was concerned my ultra-cool Boss tee would be neutralized if I was seen as one of those mousy, parents’ basement residing, Cub fan dorks. For my pal Dave though, no favor is too large.
Cub fans are their own kind, as you may know, and they were out in full force at the Vets Memorial gates. Most of the autograph-seekers standing in line were the obvious college-age dudes who worship Wrigley Field for its overpriced, smug, self-impressed, frat party atmosphere. But there was also plenty of representation from the other half of Cubsville, too – the pathetic, uninspired but sweet-natured fans who see in the Cubs the comforting reflection of their own losing qualities. When we first arrived, we were two of seven impatient autograph seekers. Unsurprisingly, 14% of us were wearing a Jimmy Buffett concert tour t-shirt. This is appropriate as Jimmy Buffett concerts are known for their many fans who greatly enjoy drinking and sort-of like music, just as Wrigley Field is know for its many fans who similarly enjoy drinking and sort-of like baseball. (Please note that I put neither Becky nor Dave in these categories. They’re the rare
good ones. No offense to either of you, but please understand this blog entry is cheaper than a therapist for my irrational, misdirected virulence.)
In line with Cubs fans proved to be a good place to hear dorky comments like "Have you seen
This Old Cub. It’s amazing."
This Old Cub, for those who don’t know, is a documentary film made about former Cub thirdbaseman and current broadcaster, Ron Santo, directed by his son. Santo, who lost his legs to diabetes, is relentless in his attempt to shamelessly evoke sympathy in his continuing attempt to sneak into the Hall of Fame, where he doesn't belong. It's a crafty and lowdown plan that so far hasn’t succeeded. Santo, of course, after years of obscurity, has now taken Harry Carey’s symbolic place in the hearts of Cub fans. Cub fans, you see, have a weakness for aging broadcasters who mangle Spanish names and miss half the action on the field. But no, wiseass, I haven’t seen the movie. Who knows – maybe it’s good.
When the gates opened, we rushed to the visitor’s dugout and waited another forty minutes for Sandberg. He apparently signs autographs for twenty or so minutes every night. (Apparently, the twenty minutes leading up to the first pitch of a baseball game is not a busy time for a manager.) When Sandberg finally appeared, our eyes met. He sensed danger and recognized a not-so-simpatico presence in the line. He nervously signed the first of the ebay-bound balls handed to him and then scribbled his illegible hand for the numerous children who had budged in front of us. I had long and carefully planned out what I wanted to say to the man. I would tell him that I enjoyed that time he hit that home run in the World Series. It would be a sharp and sarcastic comment. It would be biting – the ultimate knife in the back, the reminder of championship failures, the curse shared by Hack Wilson, Ernie Banks, Billy Williams and all those other 98 summers of Cubs players for whom futility has destined for obscurity.
But what I saw in an aging but stoic face was the compassion of a man who loved baseball and his fans. A man who could be counted on to please a long line of fans every night, all summer, in medium-sized cities all over the Midwest. And who was I fooling? The warmest of my own memories often involve watching baseball with Dave, with my grandparents, and a newer era with Becky. "Thanks for signing, Ryno," were the words that spilled involuntarily from my lips. "I appreciate it."
Then Becky and I grabbed our seats on the third base side. We said hello to another buddy from childhood – a guy who always loved the Cubs and wanted another glimpse of his hero. We enjoyed a beer or three and watched the rookie manager in action. The Peoria defense had three errors in the first four innings and I knew that this was more of what’s beautiful and eternal about baseball and that all is still right in the world.
A-Train Summer Concert Series #3 – by Aaron Moeller
Looking through my Dad’s record collection as a kid, I recall Dad pointing out an early Crosby, Stills and Nash album – it was either their debut album or
Deja Vu with Neil Young, I don’t remember – as the record that, when he was in college, everybody seemed to have in their record collection. When I was in college 25 years later, I remember Pearl Jam
Ten and Nirvana
Nevermind in most people’s collections. There also seemed to be a large share of Smashing Pumpkins CDs, REM fans, metal heads and rap fans. My own CD collection was the largest but mostly contained music that was already at least ten years old, and yet the CD most common to everyone’s collection – America’s Dorm Room Soundtrack 1993 – was undoubtedly
August and Everything After by the Counting Crows.
My buddy Shane declares
August and Everything After as the CD he’s listened to most in his life. For me, the title would likely go to
Love and Theft by Bob Dylan,
Moondance by Van Morrison or one of a half dozen Springsteen contenders. But
August has taken a steady rotation spot in my CD spinner since 1996. (As is my style, I waited until it was three years old before purchasing it. Ya gotta make sure it withstands a little time first.).
My girlfriend, three other friends and myself were attendees at last Saturday night’s Counting Crows, Third Eye Blind and Collective Soul gig at Principal Park in Des Moines. The air in the minor league ballpark was warm and muggy – ideal for rock and roll. With a large age range in attendance, it was primarily late 20 and 30-somethings, most of whom seemed glad to endure the heat, being refreshed from having left their kids at home with baby sitters to relive their college days for a few hours.
To the surprise of maybe no one besides the five of us, Collective Soul opened the show instead of Third Eye Blind. Lead singer Ed Roland had to fight the sun in his eyes as the star of this particular solar system set over the third base mezzanine as the Georgia band broke out their heavy guitars and grungy (can we still use that word?) radio sound. We would later move down to the field, just 20 or so yards from the stage, but from our initial distance in the first base bleachers, Roland looked like Sammy Hagar with his hair still long and curly, but 15 years closer to middle age than on the album covers of their best selling music. Rising up from – on the surface, at least – their often plodding, predictable two guitars, bass and drums "modern" rock sound were some recognizable riffs and melodies. Sung with passion, there was even an occasional suggestion of words and ideas rising above the morose and tenth grade poetry in most lyrics common to the era. Hits from their "Hey, I DO recognize that song" set list included "December", "Why Pt. 2", "The World I Know", ballads like "Run" and at least one affecting new song, "Hollywood", that went over well with the crowd. Roland is an overly appreciative and gracious front man and brought out Third Eye lead singer Stephan Jenkins to share some vocals. The band left the stage to the crowd echoing back his "Ohh... Heaven let your light shine down" lyrics. On their band tombstone, it will say that Collective Soul had no trouble filling 45 minutes with their radio hits.
Third Eye Blind had a lighter, though similarly hard hitting sound. Potentially more dynamic, the band’s sound somehow didn’t find its way to our bleacher seats where we sat in sweaty, evening repose. The familiar guitar riff from the one song I was most looking forward to – "How’s It Going to Be" – sounded like a speaker had blown. Third Eye Blind did have a much larger and younger fan base who took over the outfield area for their hour-long set. Stephan Jenkins is a natural-enough front man with like-minded bandmates as they ripped through their own set list, also familiar to anyone who’s been near a rock radio the last ten years. I raised the ire of my girlfriend when I compared their sound to Green Day, apparently sacrilege to anyone with claims to punk authenticity, though it’s a difference completely incomprehensible to everyone else. "Jumper" I knew, and a song I learned is called "Never Let You Go", but "Semi-Charmed Life" was the monster hit that brought even bleacher creatures to their feet with its "I want something else / to get me through this" anthem.
When the second set ended, we darted from the grandstand to the field to fill the spots recently vacated by young folks taking bathroom and beer breaks and older folks hopping on their cell phones to check on the kids or the Reds score. Darkness had dropped as we had no trouble getting within twenty or so yards from the stage. A recording of "Lean on Me" by Bill Withers lit up the stage as the headliners appeared on stage, including chief songwriter and lead singer, Adam Duritz. As he’s always known in print, "Adam Duritz of Counting Crows", sits on the fence of being one of those guys not quite recognized without his band name attached (like say Bono), but still instantly recognizable by appearance and voice as He of the White Guy with Dreadlocks kicked off another of his always vivid, emotional, roller coaster live performances. The band broke out some different instrumentation, including the banjos, accordions, mandolins and keyboards that are usually sorely lacking from most modern bands and their punchless, generic radio sound, heavier on rock than roll.
Duritz has a Springsteen-like flair for the dramatic as well as the Boss’ penchant for jumping around stage, on and off speakers and monitors, creating a future no doubt filled with knee problems, but his closest rock antecedent is clearly Van Morrison. Like Van, he has a love of jazzy arrangements and exaggerated vocal stylings, along with his frequent "la-la-la" sing-along refrains. You can't always dance to it, but you're always moving. At times – like the Belfast Cowboy – Duritz appears to be practically acting out songs with his gesturing and body movements. Following my habit of rarely going an hour without making a smartass comment, I turned to Shane at one point and made the sarcastic remark that Duritz would be a much better performer if he "learned to concentrate more and step up the intensity a little" - a most unnecessary proposition.
More like Van than Springsteen, he also has a tendency to get lost in his own inner muse and can be found, it appears, almost singing to himself. This is only a problem, when his lyrics (occasionally) dip into self-pity. Still, in 2007, it’s refreshing to see shameless sincerity on a rock stage in lieu of the usual cool detachment, which has its place but is rarely interesting for more than 15 minutes worth of fame. Duritz has gone to the Mick Jagger and Michael Stipe school of exaggerated dancing and showmanship, probably from years of practice, usually being the only guy on stage without hands otherwise engaged with a musical instrument.
New songs from a forthcoming double album were littered in with long time favorites, like "Recovering the Satellites", "Mercury", "Hanging Around" and "This Desert Life". There were surprisingly no appearances of recent hits like the Joni Mitchell cover "Big Yellow Taxi", "Accidently in Love" nor many of the best known songs from
August and Everything After, but from that classic album came two of the highlights of the night. A rare version of "Perfect Blue Buildings", which Duritz introduced as his favorite song he's written, and the stunning high point of the show, a majestic "Time and Time Again". Of the six or seven new songs, a song called "Come Around", with its declaration of band and fan loyalty, was the coolest.
But the most loved and appreciated songs included their biggest hit, the
August warhorse, "Mr. Jones", with Duritz carefully articulating each line, bouncing all over the notes, above and below the melody line, changing lyrics here and there, singing like he was rewriting it especially for Iowa’s most loyal Counting Crows fans. It was pure theater. It was an emotional highlight for me as the "I wanna be Bob Dylan" lyric called to mind my own favorite summer concert memories, which have usually been set in a similar atmosphere - in an open ballpark, under the stars, listening to Dylan’s sonic blues thunder. Duritz went to the piano late in the show and gave an emotional rendering of their greatest ballad, "A Long December". "Well, it’s one more day up in the canyon/ and it’s one more night in Hollywood" wrote Duritz for one of the actresses on
Friends, or maybe it was one of the other half dozen starlets he’s dated. Whomever it was written for, it was sublime on this night, and sufficiently melodramatic, especially if one was only destined to hear it in person once in a lifetime.
"It’s been fifteen years and you’re all still here," Duritz said sweetly from the stage, tapping his hand to his chest in a moment of artist and audience mutual love, before singing "Holiday in Spain", a pretty and fitting closer. True dat. The Counting Crows are now rock and roll long timers, apparently in it for the duration. God bless all of ‘em in that category, as well as those that didn’t quite make it. "The media often forgets that the country exists outside of New York, LA and Chicago," Duritz announced by way of thanking their loyal fans. It was a nice sentiment before the Crows left the stage to more pre-recorded music. Strangely, the song selection was "California Dreamin’" by the Mamas and the Papas, an ironic choice that may have negated his previous comment, if that song wasn’t always so damn perfect and ultimately universal, like the best and most lasting music.
The official move
I won't be able to post for the next few days. I'm moving into my new place this week. While I'm in transit, please contact other media sources for news and analysis.
Moeller TV Listings 8/9/07
Rick Ankiel makes his return to the Major Leagues tonight. The rookie phenom pitcher of 2000 has transformed himself into a power-hitting outfielder, and he'll be in the Cardinals' line-up tonight patrolling rightfield and batting second. Fox Sports Midwest carries the game (Channel 40 on Des Moines cable.) The Cards have two pitchers then in tonight's game, neither will bat ninth. Tony LaRussa has returned to having his starting pitcher bat in the 8th spot.
TV Listings update: Ankiel hits three-run homer in the bottom of the 7th inning in 5-0 Cards victory.
The new home run champion of all-time
Congratulations to Barry Bonds, baseball's new home run king. The Giants' leftfielder got the riotous reception he deserved last night in San Francisco upon hitting his 756th career home run, and the former champ, Hank Aaron, whose own commissioner blew
him off in 1974, saved himself a world of shame and embarrassment by agreeing at last to appear at the stadium via a taped tribute to Bonds on the centerfield scoreboard after the 5th inning dinger.
I've written on the blog before that I believe Bonds is a worthy successor to the home run throne once sat upon by the greatest slugger of them all, Babe Ruth, and also that Aaron's numbers should always be as equally suspect as Bonds because he too played in an era when players gorged on performance-boosters (amphetamines), and because
a former teammate claims that he and his colleagues "were doing steroids they wouldn't give to horses" in the 1960s and 70s.
I've expressed before, as well, that Bud Selig is a laughingstock as the sport's commissioner, if he can be considered a commissioner at all when he doesn't perform half of his duties. And he's a hypocrite for condemning players who made hard choices about physical performance-enhancement while attempting to compete under the guidelines set by the club owners.
In the immediate aftermath of Bonds' historic feat, though, I'd like to direct my vitriol squarely at the MSM, that is, the mainstream news media. I invite them tonight to simply "go suck it." They got it wrong time and time again this year with Bonds. They told us that the fans despised Bonds, and then those fans voted him a starting spot on the NL All-Star team. They predicted that visiting fans would jeer Bonds if he made history in their ballpark, but the Padres-killing Barry was given a warm reception when he tied Aaron's mark Saturday in San Diego, then an exuberant Mets fan made off with historic home run ball #756 in San Francisco and refused post-game interview requests. They had to re-write their stories one more time after Aaron's smiling countenance was projected upon the Jumbotron at San Fran's "Your-Corporate-Name-Here" Park.
Bonds has had an extraordinary career. In the 1990s, when the game was built on both speed and power, he
averaged 36 home runs and 34 steals per season. In 2001, at the age of 37, he hit a record 73 home runs. At 38, he batted .370. At 39, he won his 6th MVP award, clubbing 45 home runs in only 390 at-bats, and at 40, he won his 7th MVP after becoming the first player ever to register an on-base percentage over .600.
The men who walk between the lines recognize and respect Bonds' brilliance. "I think it's pretty cool," said Jim Edmonds of the Cardinals, "I think it's good for baseball and I think it's a pretty neat thing."
I do too.
Some stuff I found
What is your "walk score?"
This website uses a patent-pending algorithm to determine how "walkable" your home is to nearby stores, restaurants, parks, etc. My new place tallied an 85.
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I know you've been watching it--
"Scott Baio is 45... and Single."---
Superblogger Ken Levine
recalls the comedian born Benjamin Kubelsky, one of my choices for the Mount Rushmore of Comedy. The floor is open for nominations. I go with Benny, Groucho, Don Rickles, and Richard Pryor.
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Comedy Central
matches "The Simpsons" character to the corresponding presidential candidate.
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Nothing funny about
this. Mitt Romney wants to put a V-Chip in every computer.
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In marking "The Muppets" Season 2 DVD release, Miss Piggy grants
an email interview to the
LA Times.---The Onion's letters policy:
The Onion neither publishes nor accepts letters from its readers. The Onion's editorial policy is that its readers shall have no voice whatsoever and that The Onion shall be solely a one-way conduit of information. The editorial page is reserved for the exclusive use of the newspaper staff to advance whatever opinions or agenda it sees fit, or, in certain cases, for paid advertorials by the business community.
Green means go
This past weekend saw a further betrayal by the Democratic Party toward the hard-working citizenry that they pretend to represent in Washington. In continuing one of the most vicious assaults on civil liberties in recent years, the Congress, now Democratically-led, extended President Bush's authority to eavesdrop on the phone calls of American citizens without warrant. Sixteen Democratic Senators and 41 more in the House, including my representative in Iowa's 3rd district, Leonard Boswell, joined Republicans in passing the measure Bush signed into law yesterday.
Also on Sunday, the House, with little debate and with probably just as little review, approved $459.6 billion in new Pentagon spending, including more than 1,300 earmarks; and this reckless military spending increase, as the rotting of our country's infrastructure reaches lethal levels in the Twin Cities, doesn't even include the extra $147 billion in Iraq War spending that the president is demanding when the Congress returns from recess in the fall. The bill passed 395-13, with only 12 Democrats in opposition.
What opened my eyes though, more than anything else, to the lack of
hope for change within the party were reports during the weekend from the Yearly Kos annual conference of progressive bloggers in Chicago. Just after Democrats caved twice more to an unpopular president, for fear of appearing soft on terrorism, liberal presidential candidate Dennis Kucinich, who opposed the aforementioned bills, was roundly booed for expressing his belief that there is too little difference between Republicans and Democrats. Here we saw a constituency considered to be among the most progressive of Democratic party voting groups demanding again that we have
more patience with a group of elected representatives that have done nothing more with their newly-granted power but hem, haw, kowtow, flip-flop, and blame. These power-mad reps won't dare offend their corporate paymasters, but they continuously evade, manipulate, and outright lie to an electorate that has really asked for nothing more from them than simple honesty. I feel I'm no longer represented-- even as a lowly elector-- within the party's top-heavy hierarchy, and I'm at my wit's end as to why other progressives in the party clearly don't share this same sense of neglect.
Therefore, I hereby withdraw from my planned participation in the Iowa Democratic Caucuses for 2008, and upon a well-timed change of address next Monday, will, for the first time in my life, be changing the party affiliation on my voter registration. Less than two weeks ago, in a court settlement with Iowa's Green and Libertarian Parties, dating to a 2005 lawsuit petitioned by the political groups, the state announced that third parties would now be recognized individually on voter registration forms, and my intent is to register with the Green Party.
In response to the state's changing law, Carrie Giddens, communication director of the Iowa Democratic Party, said all the right things: "Democrats, as a party, encourage anyone who wants to get involved in the political process to get involved, and if this is a way to encourage more people to be engaged in the political process, we welcome them"-- but this is a damnedable lie.
Giddens may or may not believe that, but "Democrats,
as a party" certainly do not, as recent history indicates. Ralph Nader's independent presidential campaign, and others at the state and local level, have demonstrated that Democrats will stoop to any level to keep competing interests from sharing space on ballots.
The further impact of my decision, of course, is that I am withdrawing my voting support from Democratic presidential candidate John Edwards. While Edwards has not always dealt in a straight-forward manner with the American people, most notably during his term in the Senate, I believe he's fundamentally a decent person, and would be an improvement over any of the presidents in recent generations. It's also the case, however, that Edwards' break with Democratic party leaders and campaign stalwarts, on issues such as the blanket refusal of campaign donations from lobbyists, are going to create a steep uphill climb for him and his campaign during the primary season. In short, he doesn't have a chance in hell of winning the Democratic party nomination, and nor do any other of Hillary Clinton's less-power-entrenched opponents. At this point, the cause of working for and ennobling my political and social beliefs are best served within the functioning apparatus of the Green Party, for which just 850 signatures, from at least five different counties in Iowa, are needed to have the party represented on the 2008 state ballot.
Crumbling infrastructure Redux
I
blogged about America's decaying foundations and institutions in 2005 during the week of Hurricane Katrina's devastation, completely misreading, at the time, the country's motivation for revolutionary governmental change.
The decline of the empire continues.
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Today marks the launch of
the largest archive of streaming film reviews on the internet, courtesy of Roger Ebert and his television partners.
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I live for newspaper features like this
Washington Post recollection of the great Walter Johnson.
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Sound of the week: Los Angeles baseball fans booing Barry Bonds in the city that revolutionized artificial physical enhancement.
