Shorter Paul Krugman
MEMO: To Barack Obama
FROM: Historical Perspective
Stop saying Reaganomics worked because if they did, they would still be working, and they're obviously not.
Sucking up to the right wing just shows that you can be sucker-punched.
(Cross-posted.)
Important Announcement
Terrycloth robe belts are the greatest toy in the history of the world. One of us can pull on one end, and the other chases after it, and then we can do it in the reverse, and it's fun for, like, a nonillion hours.
And when we're plumb tuckered out, we like to crawl on top of our big human pets and sleep on them. They are comfy.
RIP Suzanne Pleshette
Suzanne Pleshette, the actress best-known for playing Emily Hartley on The Bob Newhart Show has died at age 70 after a battle with lung cancer.
She was in one of the best series finales of all time, when she reprised her role as Emily for the final episode of Newhart, although it was really during The Bob Newhart Show, on which she was a regular, that I fell in love with her. I remember being a teensy wee kid watching that show with my parents, and thinking that the smart, feisty, and witty Emily was just all kinds of cool.
In real life, Pleshette was also part of a great love story with another co-star of Bob Newhart, Tom Poston: "[They first met] when they appeared together in the 1959 Broadway comedy 'The Golden Fleecing,' but didn't marry him until more than 40 years later. Although the two had a brief fling, they went on to marry others. By 2000 both were widowed and they got back together, marrying the following year. 'He was such a wonderful man. He had fun every day of his life,' Pleshette said after Poston died in April 2007."
Teenage Boy Arrested In Bhutto Assassination
Pakistani police have extracted a confession from a fifteen year-old boy in which he admitted complicity in the death of opposition leader Benazir Bhutto. The boy stated he and some pals originally planned to toilet paper her house, but "it just got out of hand."
Other suspects remain at large.
366
Today is Sunday, January 20, 2008. Exactly one year from today Somebody Else will stand on the steps of the Capitol and take the oath of office as President of the United States. And the administration of George W. Bush will stumble into history, leaving behind death, destruction, incompetence, (including the wholesale slaughter of the English language) in its wake, the detritus and jetsam sloshing around like the Exxon Valdez plowing through the Everglades.
The greatest challenge for us lies ahead. Not only do we have to choose someone who will take over the Executive branch and take on the Herculean task of restoring our nation and our reputation, we have to prevent the current administration, in its dying moments, from doing any further damage, either by choice, chance, or dereliction. And we must remember that there is nothing so dangerous as someone knowing that the end is approaching and they have nothing left to lose but their legacy. We must be ever vigilant that over the next year George W. Bush doesn't do anything to cause more harm.
In the meantime, let us make sure that we do everything we can to begin -- now -- to repair the tatters and disfigurements of our democracy and our alliances and put to rest the idea that just by electing someone else things will repair themselves. That's comforting but naive. We have to start now so that 366* days from now when we are finally able to quote the late Gerald Ford -- "our long national nightmare is over" -- we really mean it.
*2008 is a Leap Year, and George W. Bush will still be president for 12 hours on January 20, 2009.
(Cross-posted.)
Duncan Hunter Drops out of Presidential Race
Goodbye, Duncan Hunter. We hardly knew ye—and yet we're all pretty sure that's a good thing.
Of Cars and Stars
You never know who you'll meet on Miami Beach, especially at the annual Art Deco Festival that's going on this weekend on Ocean Drive. I belong to an antique car club that puts on a show that is one of the centerpiece of the festivities, and we get some really great classic autos and motorcycles, along with the owners who bring their vehicles to the show. I happened to meet up with an acquaintance from last year's show...
Billy Joel and Mustang Bobby
Billy brought two motorcycles: a 1940's era Royal Enfield replica and a fully-restored 1941 BMW with a sidecar (pictures of the bikes and more are at Bark Bark Woof Woof).
Billy said he had a great time and that he'd be back for tomorrow's show as well. Maybe then we can talk about collaborating on a musical...
Quote of the Day
"You don't like people from outside the state coming in and telling you what to do with your flag. In fact, if somebody came to Arkansas and told us what to do with our flag, we'd tell them what to do with the pole, that's what we'd do."—Ordained minister and GOP presidential candidate Mike Huckabee, assuring a crowd in South Carolina of his enthusiastic support for their continued embrace of the Confederate flag.
Coming soon to rubber bracelets on wrists near you: WWJTPTSUTA?*
* What Would Jesus Tell People To Shove Up Their Asses?
Dramatic News Update
The run of Can't Live Without You at the Manhattan Repertory Theatre in New York has been extended...even before it opens.
Originally slated to run January 23, January 25, and January 26, it will also run January 30, February 1, February 2.
You can get ticket information at the Manhattan Rep website.
A Whole Lotta No
I think it's fair to say that the Republicans were the party of ideas for a pretty long chunk of time there over the last 10-15 years in the sense that they were challenging conventional wisdom.Sigh.
Kos, via eriposte, is quick to point out that Obama's comment, which is the now-being-spotlighted back-end of his Reagan statement, is "not controversial" because "the GOP was the party of ideas. They were crappy ideas. But they were 'ideas'." In other words, as before, Obama is just saying, "I don't like anything they did, but I like the way they did it." And once again, I wonder if praising the GOP for being a party of ideas in spite of the content and consequences of those ideas (and at the expense of his own party), is really particularly wise, irrespective of its debatable veracity.
Quite frankly, the most consternating thing about this statement, as with the Reagan bit, is that it suggests both a dreadful tone-deafness and a worrying failure to understand exactly the extent of the soundbite culture in which we're living and upon which he's dependent to convey his priniples, policies, and ideas. These are decidedly not qualities I want in the Democratic candidate in the general election.
Admiration for Reagan's political acumen and the GOP's strategy are just plainly not the kind of quotes you want to hand to the GOP right before the general. Republican operatives must be positively slavering at the thought of his getting the nomination; a juicy little ad featuring the possible Democratic nominee asserting that "the Republicans were the party of ideas for a pretty long chunk of time there over the last 10-15 years" has already been made, I can assure you. That is media mismanagement of Shrumtastic proportions.
Let me be perfectly clear: I do not believe that Obama admires Reagan's policies. I do not believe Obama thinks the GOP had good ideas. And I also believe that it should have been totally evident to both the candidate and/or his campaign staff (though I don't believe they were scripted) that these statements would be wildly misunderstood, evoke overwhelming negative reaction, and stood to be used against him by both his primary opponents and his potential opponent in the general election.
Honestly, is there anyone reading this blog who would have read the above-blockquoted statement and, given the opportunity, advised Obama to make it?
I don't get it.
On the night of the New Hampshire primary, or perhaps the day after, I remember some babblehead or other noting that Obama was the only candidate, of all the Dems and Republicans, who used a teleprompter for his acceptance/concession speeches. At the time, I thought: "So what?" Now I wonder if it's another sign he's just not ready for prime-time yet.
UPDATE: Greg Sargent has a few posts on this subject at TPM. Here, while being very fair about the nature of Obama's comments, he concludes: "it seems clear that at the very least there were some poor choices of words by Obama here." And here, after another fair assessment, he concludes: "It's probably worth pointing out that Obama's quote is saying that the GOP 'challenged conventional wisdom' and suggests by default that the Dems didn't have any ideas. At the very least this is a poor choice of words on Obama's part." Poor choice of words...poor choice of words.... I can't help but cringe. I wish I had some sense that the Obama campaign actually considers this whole thing a gaffe, that they realize adjustments need to be made, but that does not seem to be the case.
* * *
I'm not sure, as an aside, that it is fair to say the Republicans were the party of ideas and challenging conventional wisdom (unless by "challenging conventional wisdom" he means "flagrantly disregarding the will of the American people on every issue from Social Security reform to Terri Schiavo"). But, considering that the Dems haven't exactly been a font of inspiration, I'm not going to spend much time defending them against being given short shrift in the Party of Ideas department. (That said, they—and Hillary in particular—were way out in front on healthcare.)
I Want to Be a Scientologist!
Radar Online got a hold of the Church of Scientology's "SEC WHOLE TRACK" questionnaire, which is a list of 343 questions developed by founder L. Ron Hubbard for use during 'auditing' sessions; new recruits are "hooked up to an E-meter—a crude, polygraph-like contraption—as a Church-sanctioned auditor records the subject's responses for further expensive inquiry."
Fun!
Radar posted the best of the questions, and since, as you know, I am very interested in uncovering my trapped thetans, I thought I'd go ahead and take the truncated questionnaire, and let you judge whether I need to be sent to Scientology camp tout de suite!
Off we go...
Have you ever enslaved a population?
You mean, aside from enslaving the Shakers to my irresistable awesomeness...?
Have you ever debased a nation's currency?
I made fun of the Ronpaulbux of Ronpaulistan once.
Have you ever killed the wrong person?
Definitely not. I only kill the right people.
Have you ever torn out someone's tongue?
No, but I know someone who's just begging for it.
Have you ever been a professional critic?
Everyone's a critic.
Have you ever wiped out a family?
No, although I have had my eye on the Duggars for awhile now.
Have you ever tried to give sanity a bad name?
No, but I do give love a bad name (bad name).
Have you ever consistently practiced sex in some unnatural fashion?
I believe I have.
Have you ever made a planet, or nation, radioactive?
No, although I did vaporize Planet Limpwrist.
Have you ever made love to a dead body?
I have never been married to Larry King.
Have you ever engaged in piracy?
Indeed I have.
Have you ever been a pimp?
No, I hear it's hard out there for a pimp.
Have you ever eaten a human body?
I've gobbled cock; does that count?
Have you ever disfigured a beautiful thing?
You tell me.
Have you ever exterminated a species?
Yes, I am personally responsible for the obliteration of the douchebug.
Have you ever been a professional executioner?
I wish!
Have you given robots a bad name?
Probably.
Have you ever set a booby trap?
Sure. That's how I ended up with Mr. Shakes.
Have you ever failed to rescue your leader?
You know, it suddenly occurs to me that these questions are kinda weird.
Have you driven anyone insane?
Only everyone I know.
Is anybody looking for you?
Some creepy little perv who answers to "Randyson."
Have you ever set a poor example?
Hopefully.
Did you come to Earth for evil purposes?
I never use my powers for evil.
Are you in hiding?
No, always seeking.
Have you systematically set up mysteries?
The answer to that question is to be found in the old lighthouse beyond the field of thistle, just as the light falls across the sailor stone.
Have you ever made a practice of confusing people?
Zuh?
Have you ever philosophized when you should have acted instead?
Let me think about this and I'll get back to you.
Have you ever gone crazy?
Yes, I've gone crazy—crazy for thinkin' that my love could hold you, crazy for tryin' and crazy for cryin', crazy for lovin' you.
Have you ever sought to persuade someone of your insanity?
Uh...see previous answer.
Have you ever deserted, or betrayed, a great leader?
No, I always obey orders from headquarters.
Have you ever smothered a baby?
Yes, but only because this crazy American doctor kept insisting that I keep my chicken quiet or we'd all be killed.
Do you deserve to have any friends?
Absolutely not.
Have you ever castrated anyone?
Obviously, or I never would have gotten my Humorless Feminist membership card.
Do you deserve to be enslaved?
Only to love, because the storm is breaking or so it seems, and we're too young to reason, too grown up to dream.
Is there any question on this list I had better not ask you again?
No chance. They're all spectacular.
Have you ever tried to make the physical universe less real?
Only every time I've dropped acid.
Have you ever zapped anyone?
Yeah, this one time, I was working on a science experiment for school, and I accidentally discovered the formula for telekinesis. Then me and my friend Willie Aames went around and Zapped! all kinds of crazy shit! I even Zapped! girls' shirts off and saw their boobies—ha ha!
Have you ever had a body with a venereal disease?
Yes, I am ashamed to admit I had cooties.
If so, did you spread it?
Spreading it is how I got them in the first place!
Rim shot! Thank you, I'll be here all week! Don't forget to tip your waiters!
OMGOMGOMGOMG
Petulant just sent me this trailer for the new (and only-eight-episodes-unless-the-writers'-strike-gets-resolved) season of Lost, which premieres in less than two weeks—wheeeeeeeeeee! I was so fucking excited that I actually woke up Mr. Shakes and got him out of bed so we could watch it together—and he was glad! Why? Because "it's the best fooking shoo in the history oof shoos!!!"
(Btw, if you really, really don't want to know anything that's going to happen in the upcoming season, you probably don't want to watch this.)
The Origin of Love
Just because it was in my head. From Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Based on Aristophanes' theory of the origins of love in Plato's Symposium, which is summarized here.
From the Vault
Sometimes, when I'm looking for an old post or comment, I stumble across something about which I'd forgotten that just totally cracks me up—little quotes and comments, and of course my various and sundry Photoshop creations. I thought that maybe other Shakers would get a kick out of them, too, so here's the introduction to your new series: From the Vault.
[From Damn the Radical Limp-Wristed Flipper Agenda, February 25, 2007.]
Oh Boy
Now the Southern Baptists will be after me.
By the way, I'm not sure that pointing out Huckabee took a side-swipe at Romney is really "better use of Huckabee's remark" than pointing out he may be too ignorant to lead a country which has begun to legalize same-sex partnerships in many places, if he can't tell the difference between consensual relationships between adults, and fucking dogs.
But I know how hard it is to tell what someone is saying as soon as they use the f-word.
Odd Pieces
[There have been a few comments threads lately that reminded me of this post, and why I wrote it in the first place, so I figured I'd repost it. Also, Mr. Shakes and I finally cracked out that puzzle—and Maude almighty, did I miss my grandmother. So this is for her, too. Originally posted in similar form in July 2006.]
Two summers ago now, Mannion wrote a pair of lovely posts about human connection and its being one of the great mysteries of the universe. Connection is one of my favorite topics; I could endlessly discuss the many ways that humans find to connect, and all the little intricacies of connection—what love feels like, how love between friends feels different than love between a couple, coincidences of meeting, the strange things that happen among people of like minds and souls. I love stories of meeting, of how great friendships and affairs and marriages came to be, because they are so often rich with mystery and providence, gilded with an intangible promise to abide, the inducement of which cannot be recognized.
Perhaps my fascination is driven by whatever it is that makes me identify with something once expressed by Oddjob, who said, "The repeating story of my life is never quite fitting," which reminded me of something I hadn’t thought about in many years. It was just a faded old coffee canister in my grandmother's house, but, for me, it held within an understanding of myself.
My grandmother was a passionate jigsaw-puzzler, with hundreds of the things crookedly lining overstuffed shelves in her cellar. I can't see a jigsaw puzzle without thinking of her, recalling the ever-present card table with a semi-completed puzzle on its top that she would carry from room to room. I have in my closet a 500-piece panorama of the skyline of New York City—the city she called home her whole life—that I bought her the Christmas just before she died. It's so many years ago now that the skyline still includes the World Trade Center, but when I look at the box, still in its wrapper, it's my grandmother that I miss.
Sometimes her puzzles would have an extra piece that didn't go anywhere; the puzzle would be done, but there would be this one odd piece. It was almost always a middle piece, instead of an edge, so it wasn't until the puzzle was complete that the odd piece out revealed itself. She kept these odd pieces, throwing them all into an old canister, as if one day, perhaps, they'd all make a puzzle of their own.
I'm a bit of an odd puzzle piece. But I don't mind. My life has become a canister for collecting other odd puzzle pieces, and if we don't fit perfectly anywhere else, we are nonetheless joined by the inscrutability of how such odd pieces came to be. Among odd pieces, the awkwardness of not fitting anywhere else takes a new shape, a sort of sameness, a warm familiarity. Or so it seems to me.
In his posts, Mannion isn't necessarily talking about odd pieces, but he does mention a friend whom he met on the internets, which have a peculiar but wonderful way of connecting people, many of whom probably consider themselves odd pieces. "Before it happened to me," says Mannion, "even for a long time after, I'd have said it was impossible to become real friends with someone you never touched." I was once as dubious as he was about the ability to forge friendships via the internet, also before it happened to me, but the man who herein has been dubbed my Londoner Andy and I have now been friends in almost-daily contact for seven years. The frustrating distance that separates us means we don't get to see each other very often; in fact, it has been nearly six years since we last spent a languid evening talking nonsense over dinner together.
We didn't need to touch each other to form a fast and enduring friendship, although, now that we have, I miss it. I miss the scratch of his five o'clock shadow against my cheek as I hug him. I miss our bumping into each other as we walk down the street, like two pinballs bouncing back and forth. I miss his reaching for me, or me for him, in a tiny, cramped London bookshop, pulling the other toward ourselves gently with lingering touches and leaning our heads together as we look at the same book, standing more closely than the confined space really demands.
Meeting someone in person after connecting with them online heightens the corporeal once it's finally available. If the connection persists offline, there's an urgency to touch, to make it solid. The surrounding air feels electric when you do. It's magic, that first time you lay eyes upon, smell, touch the skin of someone about whom you already, inexplicably, care. Though we may not need that physical presence to make a connection, we miss it nonetheless, even if we don't realize it.
And once we've had it, we can't help but miss it actively, consciously, and desire more.
To this day, Mr. Shakes and I hate speaking to one another on the phone, as the sound of our voices over wires reminds us too evocatively of the time when those wires were all we had for so very long. The sound of his voice on the phone conjures a memory of longing that I cannot bear.
It's this—this human craving for the sensual, for presence—which makes Mannion say that before he knew people who fell in love online, and whose love persisted in the real world, he believed that "If it's love, we love all the time and everywhere. This means that love is dependent on circumstances. In order to love someone, we have to love their circumstances. We love them for where they are and we love them for the people around them, even, sometimes, for the things around them." That's what he would have said. Wouldn't we all?
But the truth is that humans are adaptable creatures, and if you give them a new way to make a connection, even one that lacks a lens into precise circumstance or physical contact, they will find a way to make a connection. Not all of them. Surely there are people for whom falling in love with someone the way I did, before I ever even saw his picture, or forging a lasting friendship, is simply not possible, for one reason or another. Maybe such things are dependent on a transcendent imagination. Maybe they bloom in the soil of need.
Odd pieces tend to struggle with connection, which can be brutal—watching the beauty of connection lay itself across the faces of people to whom it comes so easily, over and over, and always just out of your reach. But the experience can be informative. Odd pieces uniquely appreciate connection, and thusly connect in a different way.
The surrounding air feels electric when you do.
I was maybe six when I tried putting all my grandmother's odd puzzle pieces together. "If you stick those together," she told me, "they might not come apart, because they weren't designed to fit." She was right. They were tough to connect together, but even tougher to break apart again.
Breaking News – The Black Vote is Not Monolithic!
Whoops!
My bad, Liss...
But this kind of shocking news (ugh) is worthy of double postings!
Black people do not agree on everything, so-called black leaders do not issue commandments that all black people follow and we’ve even have generational disagreements.
And that’s official now because the Associated Press said it !
Blink.
Lawd, give me strength.
***logs off to go read my Black People's Unified Thoughts for 2008 newsletter***
Very Punny
"Get CARRIED away!" Get it? Ha ha! Because her name is CARRIE! Ha ha! That's, like, sooooo clever!
Clunk.
[Via every gay blogger.]
