Capitol musings from the people who brought you the Newsbreaker Lunch.
A Horse Is a Horse
27 February 2004
Another AHIAH Contest
Because that last one was so successful. Thanks, by the way, for your entries, all of which came from either members of my family or Matt. I guess before moving on to a new contest we need to announce a winner for the last one though, huh? Well then, okay....I guess it's....Matt. Good job, buddy.
Without further ado, then, allow me to announce the "First-Ever AHIAH Blog-Based Very Good Number One Delicious Family Chinese Super Restaurant." I mean, no. Is it 5 o'clock yet? Let's try this again.
It's...The First-of-Many A Horse Is a Horse Funny Caption Contest!
That's right, we throw an image up here on the blog and you suggest the caption. I just learned how to put pictures up in this piece, so let's see how it turns out. Here's the photo:
Oh man, that's a good'n. Entries can be posted in the Comments section below. Family members welcome, but in order for me to avoid being accused of nepotism you probably won't win. Unless you're really funny. And we all know how likely that is.
Okay Team, game on!
I just love the Friday morning White House press gaggles. Josh Marshall has posted a segment of today's transcript on his site, Talking Points Memo. Personally, I think Scott McClellan absolutely sucks at his job, and I never tire of being proven right. It's great to see the press corps turning on the heat, blasting him this week about President Bush's decision to limit his interview with the 9/11 Commission to one hour. Here's my favorite part:
QUESTION: In every speech he gives, President Bush invokes the atrocities of 9/11 and he talks about how that event has impressed on him a determination to always honor the victims of those atrocities in his daily conduct of his office. And I wonder if you could explain with some serious Texan straight talk here, Scott, how it is honoring the victims of 9/11 to restrict the questioning of the President on this subject to one hour?
McCLELLAN: I hope you'll talk about the unprecedented cooperation that we're providing to the commission when you report this, James. Because if you look back at what we've done, it is unprecedented. We have provided more than 2 million pages of documents. We provided more than 60 compact discs of radar, flight and other information; more than 800 audio cassette tapes of interviews and other materials; more than 100 briefings, including at the head-of-agency level; more than 560 interviews. So this administration is cooperating closely and in an unprecedented way with the 9/11 Commission, because their work is very important.
QUESTION: That would have been a very pertinent answer had I asked you about the administration. But, in fact, I asked you about the President’s cooperation.
So, so nice. As Justin would say (and he does) (regularly) (while 'raising the roof'), "You go girl! Show me wha-cha workin' with!"
26 February 2004
A true milestone: if you check the lower right-hand corner of this page, you'll see that AHIAH (A Horse Is a Horse) has received over 1000 hits since I added the ticker two weeks ago. It should come as no surprise, then, that the landmark 1000th viewing was accomplished by none other than Fatty Matty Martin, who, it should be noted, was also viewer #69 and #420. And he's still giggling about it.
Thanks, Matt, and everyone who reads this stuff.
The weird new trend in political commentary--particularly among blogs--seems to be to pose as a certain disenfranchised faction and make arguments you'd never expect to hear coming from that side. Blogs with titles like "Republicans For Nader" and "Jaded Democrats for Bush" are cropping up all over the place. It's bizarre. I guess it's supposed to give some kind of credibility, but if you read the posts you quickly realize that the Republicans for Nader are actually tree-hugging frisbee-chucking cheeba monkeys, and the Jaded Democrats for Bush are actually war-mongering Izod-loving nature haters. I guess they're both either trying to fool us and doing a bad job or they're genuinely deluded about their respective identities. Either way, shut up.
This struck me particularly when I started reading this article about gay marriage by Ender's Game author and purported Democrat Orson Scott Card. His arguments disgusted me to the point that I actually didn't finish reading it. If you do, let me know how it ends.
Regarding the gay marriage amendment issue (vividly and hilariously renamed by Wonkette (also)), there is a website which has posted the names of 34 senators who have been confirmed as opposing such a proposition. Check out the list here. If this holds up, it means that the 2/3 majority needed for the amendment to survive a vote doesn't exist. This is heartening, I think, as is the fact that of the 34 Senators, eight are Republicans; and of the eight, two are from Maine. She may look like Judge Valkenheiser, but Susan Collins deserves props on this one.
[Late Update: Matt Miller's new column tackles the role this issue plays in the campaign. He eloquently places himself in support of equal rights but opposed to marriages at this stage, simply because "I don't want to see public debate hijacked by this issue....When it comes to weddings, I'm more interested right now in marrying economic growth with social justice." Everything he writes is gold.]
In lighter news, I was kind of amused to see Drudge featured prominently on the West Wing last night. He broke a story about the former Vice President's tell-all interview or some such drudgery. It was a strange blending of fiction and reality; watching that show sometimes I feel like, if you squint, you could confuse the two entirely.
Oh, and one last thing: read this. I swear it's a different Jeremy.
The cool hip blogs (Gawker and Wonkette) were discussing a now-infamous Urban Outfitters t-shirt yesterday.
Drudge's latest entre into fashion. He was so on-point when he talked about Monica Lewinsky's purses that he had to delve into that again. Well, if it didn’t say so before, the Urban description of the shirt now says “Screen-printed on a vintage baseball tee with a drudge-load of irony.”
Ahhh, irony. I love it.
25 February 2004
Don't Be Hatin': The Official AHIAH Endorsement of Sen. John Edwards for President
There comes a time in the life of every quasi-political blog when, looking down at the path it has been traveling, it finds itself at a crossroads. At that point, it must step back from the commentary, from the rumor-mongering, from the directionless pontification in which it has been engaged for the past 3 months. It is a time for the blog to collect its thoughts, to sort through all of the drivel it has hyperlinked, the contradictions it has revealed, the mocking of Dennis Kucinich's ears it has committed—and, hopefully, to find some meaning there. It is a moment when a blog must turn inward. It is, indeed, a reckoning.
For A Horse Is a Horse, that moment has come.
There are those who say John Kerry has a lock on the nomination, that the other Democrats don't have a chance. There are those who say George W. Bush's war chest is simply too big, that no one will be able to beat him. If my memory serves me, there were those, too, who said that a certain horse, who happened to be the subject of a certain book and subsequently a certain hit movie starring Tobey Maguire, was too gangly to be a winner. But you know what? Seabiscuit proved them wrong. At least, I think he did. I didn't actually see it.
This election is going to get bloody. The Bush administration will pull no punches and spare no expense in its quest for a second term. If the Democrats choose John Kerry as their nominee, they will have chosen a heavyweight, an experienced politician who can fight fire with fire and poke Rove with the same muddy barbs political strategists have used to maul each other for years. They will have chosen a Pit Bull from the left to take on a Rottweiler from the right. Fur will fly. The carnage will be total. Somebody's bound to lose an ear.
Here at AHIAH, we have been following this election season very carefully. Some might say, too carefully. But in the midst of our punditry, we can’t help wondering if maybe—just maybe—there is a better way. And we can’t help dreaming that maybe that better way grew up in a small town in North Carolina. And that maybe his dad worked in a miiiiiiiill.
We’re probably not the only ones, but when we think about John Edwards, we think about the Care Bears. Here was a group that knew how to handle the challenges of winning a presidential election. Faced with adversity, the Care Bears didn't resort to negative tactics. You never saw Tenderheart slinging mud, or Funshine dishing dirt. Even old Love-a-Lot knew there was a better way to deal with villains than by attacking their national security credentials.
The simple truth is, we find John Edwards’ optimism to be inspiring. Maybe we’re suckers. Maybe we just haven’t spent enough time reading the Drudge Report (with the possible exception of Bethany) and living the sardonic DC hill staffer lifestyle to get jaded enough not to be suckers. Whatever the reason, though, listening to John Edwards speak makes us feel like we’re 5 years old, watching the sun set while eating cotton candy, and we like it. On the trail, on the stump, Edwards is a beacon. He is hopeful, and if it means nothing else, at the very least his hopefulness belies one enduring truth: there is hope.
In dark times, the Democrats will have a chance to select the type of leadership with which they feel most comfortable. This year, they will choose between a man with a sword and a man with a lantern.
There is no doubt that the world is dangerous. It’s dangerous because it’s dark. We need to be able to see each other in a global sense, to interact, to understand our motivations, our ambitions, and the implications of what we seek. Yes, the world is dangerous—and for that, we have an army. But because it’s dark, because to fight the good fight we need to see the things at which we’re swinging, we need a president with a lantern.
AHIAH is glad to announce our belief that John Edwards is that man.
There comes a time in each Washingtonian's life where he has to step back, take a look at the important things in life and wonder if politics are really that important to be all-consuming.
Okay, okay, don't laugh me off the horse. But seriously, folks, I am here to introduce you to a new all-consuming activity. BookCrossing. Yes, I said BookCrossing. The BookCrossing life is the life of generosity. Of introductions. Of new friends. The BookCrossing life is one of values and intellectualism, without any of the supercilious snobbery of elitist East Coast liberal arts colleges.
Take a look at BookCrossing.com. Register a book and then release it into the wild. Follow that book through its trials and tribulations. See if it leaves DC. See if it leaves the country. Watch both Democrats and Republicans read the book you love, and decide if it can withstand the test of the 2004 election.
And if you find the book that I released a year ago on a subway in Madrid, Spain, please pick it up and read it. It is a good read.
20 February 2004
A news flash: Nader is likely - likely - running for Pres, according to those quoted by the Associated Press. He will make an announcement on "Meet the Press" Sunday and be "available for interviews" following the appearance.
I've discussed Nader's possible run for President in a previous posting. Check out another site: www.RepentantNaderVoter.com to read yet another opinion on the subject.
I love it! Here is my official submission to the "Predict That Presidential Candidate's Secret Service Codename" Contest. For the sake of amusement I have chosen to include candidates past, and present.
Edwards Smirky
Kerry Irk-y
Dean Chirpy
Kucinich Smurfy
Sharpton Quirky
Clark Shirky
Gephardt Purdy
Lieberman Murky
Carol Mosely Braun Nurse-y
Ladies and Gentlemen: AHIAH is proud to present our first-ever, blog-based, highly-amusing, "Predict That Presidential Candidate's Secret Service Codename" Contest.
Several will play. Only one will win.
From ABC News reporter Ed O'Keefe:
"The only other major development occurred at 12:01am EST as a three car Secret Service detail descended upon Senator Kerry's Beacon Hill home in Boston. Only moments prior to the body watch invasion, Kerry's minivan and home had been entirely unguarded."
Yes, as of this morning John Kerry has requested and received secret service protection. John Edwards is thinking about it. Dennis Kucinich needs to go home already.
And so, like a teenage girl talking to her father, when requesting "protection," there's bound to be some name-calling.
Traditionally, Republican Secret Service codenames begin with an R and Democratic codenames begin with a D. Reagan, for example, was "Rawhide;" Carter was "Dasher." Bob Dole was, and I kid you not, "Ramrod."
As if this was insufficient fodder, candidates' wives also receive nicknames. Hillary Clinton was "Evergreen;" Barbara Bush was "Tranquility;" Jackie Kennedy was "Lace."
***Our challenge to you, then, is to propose Secret Service Codenames for any of the current Democratic candidates and their significant others.***
Entries should be submitted in the Comments section below this post. A winner will be announced soon, assuming anyone reads this and actually particpates. And assuming any of you is at all funny.
Let the games begin!
19 February 2004
Just got back from the John Kerry AFL-CIO endorsement rally. We were pretty close to the stage. We were right by the speaker when they started blasting the Stones. We were about ten feet, in fact, from the Man Himself.
And you know what?
I could take him.
An Editorial
I've spent my last two Wednesday evenings learning to teach adults how to read. It's quite a process; first, you break a word down into its component sounds, tap them out on your fingers, and then say them out loud. It's hard, too, because your inclination is to pronounce letters like "p" as "puh," when in fact it's just "ppp," just air through the lips. Try it and see: hold your hand under your chin and make the sound of the letter "p." If your chin drops at all, you're doing it wrong. Ppppppp, not puh.
Last night we had a guest speaker, a big black dude from South Carolina named David. He was very poised and engaging, looking everyone in the eyes, speaking from the heart. His story was real and gritty. He'd grown up poor, underpriviledged, with a hard-working family that could never quite get out of poverty. David learned to read in the program and was there to tell us his story, which started out like this: "I was born in a small town in South Carolina..."
Maybe I've been watching too much C-Span (maybe?), but I fully expected the next words out of his mouth to be, "and my dad worked in a mill. There are two Americas in this country..." It occurred to me that if I closed my eyes, it could very easily have been John Edwards in that classroom, delivering his stump speech to a rapt crowd.
Then, David told us about how he got stabbed in the head. So there goes that analogy.
What struck me was that throughout David's life, among his family and friends, almost no one knew how to read. He told us that growing up, there had never been a single book in his house except the Bible, but no one could read that anyway. No newspapers, no magazines, no printed stories, no journalism. No reading material of any kind.
This is almost inconceivable to me. I can't imagine not being able to read street signs, to decipher bus schedules, to fill out job applications. I literally can't picture it, and I'm trying. I've been trying since last night. The truth is that virtually everything I do hinges on my ability to manage words. It's fundamental to my life.
And yet, illiteracy is an amazingly common experience in America. In 1998, over 90 million US adults--nearly one out of two--were classified as either functionally or nearly illiterate. There are massive factions in this country that simply cannot read a sentence. I think it's a fair guess that illiterate Americans are probably not nearly as tuned in to current events as the rest of the country. With less information, it must be much harder to get involved in cmmunities and schools. They're undoubtedly less likely to vote, too, which is a tragic irony since voting is the surest way to improve public education.
And then I think, of course they don't vote. They can't read the ballot.
States' rights, smaller government, trade--there are plenty of parts of the Republican platform with which I don't have serious beef. Sure, the occasional moral condescension and evangelism has been known to roil me a little bit, but Democrats do their share of that, too. Overall, I respect much of the fundamental principles of the right, particularly as championed by Bob Dole, who I think is a riot. On this issue, though, I believe Republican thinking fails.
If we agree that there are indeed certain unalienable rights, and that "to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed," then the government--and we as its constituents--have dropped the ball. The right to vote isn't enough; we have to give all Americans the skills to excercise that right. Literacy should be the birthright of all Americans.
We should be increasing the number of voters, the number of people who get involved, not cutting funding for after-school programs and issuing vouchers that let kids flee failing public schools. We should be fixing those schools. Our public schools should be cathedrals. They should have the best equipment, the best facilities, the best teachers. Internationally, our education system should be as envied as our nuclear arsenal.
This argument for quality public education stands on its own, but it doesn't have to. Even from the standpoint of democracy, even in a pragmatic sense, we should be doing everything we can to increase the number of people who vote on election day. This should be the prerogative of both parties. The more people who participate, after all, the more this country follows the true direction of its citizens.
I can't escape the feeling that we have to take responsibility for helping those people whose circumstances preclude them from gaining the information necessary to take action on their own.
I want a president who feels the same way.
18 February 2004
A couple of things.
First, thanks to anyone who has ever left a comment on this site. This includes the guy who told me that I "eat monkey [expletive deleted] all day." Every time there is a new comment it literally feels like Christmas morning. It's also nice to know I'm not doing the online equivalent of talking to myself.
Secondly, in case you haven't been keeping up with the Conan O'Brien Canadian Fiasco, AHIAH has the goods: Triumph is a damn riot; Canada flips its bacon; Conan apologizes. This whole thing is pretty funny. I will tastefully abstain from Canadian jokes, as I think Triumph has made them all.
And in news that matters, or doesn't, here's something to mull over. A west coast radio host named Hugh Hewitt has unearthed John Kerry's Senate testimony as the leader of Vietnam Veterans Against the War. Hewitt played the tape for his audience and characterized the response as "intense...The first two hours brought scores of calls and e-mails which denounced Kerry for his slander of the military that served in Vietnam and for his understanding of the war." Hewitt calls Kerry's "condescension repulsive," adding that "I do not believe he can serve successfully as Commander-in-Chief given the reactions I heard from veterans and currently serving military [sic]."
I haven't heard the tape but the testimony is here. I've read about half, and so far it doesn't seem that bad--quite eloquent, actually. Anyway, check it out for yourself and let me know what you think. Because that's how it works here at AHIAH... We report. You decide.
17 February 2004
The Power of the Pastime
The truth is, I don't remember Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. I wasn't quite six years old, and by the end of the game I was probably in bed, just drifting off to sleep. When Dave Henderson homered in the top of the 10th, my eyelids were beginning to get heavy. When Boggs whacked a double and brought in that insurance run, I was just entering the fantastic realm of five-year old dreamland. And so, by the time Mookie's grounder found its way between Bill Buckner's legs—that crucial moment that is burned like a cattle branding into the collective consciousness of Red Sox fandom—well, He-man was already well into kicking the crap out of Skeletor. I was sound asleep. I had no idea what I was missing.
Seventeen years later, it happened again. I had been watching the Red Sox rise like a swelling tide for weeks at Rhino's bar here in DC. My friend Alison works there, and for every game she would reserve a table up front for Matty and me. After work we'd roll in, get pitchers of whatever was on special, a big bowl of 25 cent wings, and watch the Sox take steps in what genuinely felt like an inevitable march toward victory. We lived and died with every ALDS game against Oakland. Then, when the Red Sox headed to New York, we LIVED and DIED with every game against the Yankees.
The night before Game 7, my job hosted an awards gala at the National Building Museum. I was charged with making sure our MC, Cokie Roberts, had everything she needed, which turned out to be about 20 glasses of wine. It was a great night, and by the end of it we were all nearly as drunk as Cokie, stumbling around Washington in our tuxedos and dresses, running up a $500 tab at the Red Roof Inn hotel tavern and convincing the Super Shuttle guy to drive us around at 2 am looking for another bar. I passed out at 3:30, got up at 7, went to work, and then met Matty at Rhino's for the game. Needless to say, I was wrecked.
Around the 6th inning, I surrendered to exhaustion and went home to take a shower and watch the game from a reclining position. The last thing I remember, it was the top of the 8th and the Sox were up 5-2. Clemens was benched, Pedro was wheeling, Jupiter was aligned with Mars. I smiled broadly. Finally, I thought, it’s all happening. The years of anticipation, the punditry, the curse, all of it is about to be resolved. And at that moment, in that setting—warm, comfortable, basking in the glow of redemption and the satisfaction of hard work—I fell asleep.
I had no idea what I was missing.
***
I almost wish I could say the same thing about the 2000 presidential election. I had been watching for weeks in agony as Al Gore gradually self-destructed, rolling his eyes during the debates, ramming his tongue down Tipper’s throat like he was trying to eat her larynx. It was horrible. That night, sitting in my dorm room in front of CNN, my friends and I watched as our progressive hopes for the nation took a heartbreaking nose-dive into a murky pit of exit polls and recounts. We were dumbfounded.
Two years later, it happened again. I had spent the summer working in Maine for a Senate candidate and I was following the midterm elections pretty closely. Some strategists were predicting gains of up to 20 seats for the Democrats, and I was hopeful that a strong showing would help restore a national sense of balance, something I thought was endangered by such a powerful White House.
As the day approached, though, things began to fall apart. A war in Iraq looked imminent, and Republicans had successfully cast themselves as the party of national security. The predictions were wrong, and for maybe the first time in history the party of a wartime president actually picked up seats in Congress in a mid-term election. It was jarring. I spent the next day in a haze, we all did, just utterly uncomprehending, baffled, crushed. We couldn’t understand how this could happen, after everything that had been said, after all the work we’d done, the faith we’d kept. We just couldn’t get our minds around it. It just didn’t make sense.
***
There is a common thread here. Had I not fallen asleep during Game 7 this fall, had I not been a kindergartener when the Sox fell to the Mets in ’86, I know the feeling that struck would have been a familiar one. The perils of being a fan are not exclusive to sports; a true fan, in any sense, has to give up something of himself, to commit a part of himself to something bigger. Whether that something is a cause, a candidate or a team hardly matters. When it gets mowed down like a silo in a hurricane, it hurts. A lot.
To be a Red Sox fan and a Democrat, then, is truly to know pain, at least at this point in history. The two have so much in common: humble roots, great potential, high expectations, disappointing results. The natural fan bases of both are grounded in working class America, people who know what it means to be both trampled and proud. Both dream big and recall the glory days with a bittersweet longing.
Back before “the curse.”
Back before “hanging chads.”
By contrast, the Yankees, with their pinstripe uniforms and astronomical paychecks, are without a doubt the businessmen of baseball. George Steinbrenner is the prototypical Republican CEO, buying up all the talent he can find like some kind of baseball robber baron. The comparison doesn’t exist only in metaphor, either: in 1974, Steinbrenner pled guilty to giving illegal campaign contributions to Republican President Richard M. Nixon, a crime that resulted in a $20,000 fine and a 9-month suspension from the sport.
Ultimately, though, you can’t argue with a scoreboard. The Yankees have won an amazing 26 World Series titles over the years, making it to the big stage six times in the last decade. In 1998, they set the record for most wins in a regular season with 114, the post-season bringing that count to 125. They won the World Series that year. And the next year. And the year after that.
***
There’s no denying that the Democratic Party has gotten soft in the last few decades, and the windfall for Republicans has been enormous. Today, Republicans control two of the three branches of government, and should George W. Bush win a second term, he will almost certainly have the chance to make at least one appointment to the Supreme Court.
Like the Yankees, then, Republicans have also spent the last few years at the top of their game. Republicans in Congress have been rolling through the conservative agenda like a suburban housewife checking off a shopping list. Relaxed emissions standards for SUVs? Check. Steps toward privatizing Medicare and public education? Check. Federal funding for Pat Robertson? Check.
Now, though, in the face of what has been called the most partisan White House leadership in the history of the United States, the Democrats look like they might—just might—be getting their teeth back. After years of losing, of putting together shoddy squads and getting painted by the right as whiney, dovish wimps, they’re getting rowdy. Slowly, gradually, the Democrats are cowboying up.
You can see it at the rallies, the campaign stops, the call-in shows. People are mad. Voter turnout is breaking records. More and more, the Democratic base is beginning to look like a Friday night crowd at Fenway, shaking a sea of fists and yelling at the umpire. “Are you kidding me? A ‘Clear Skies Initiative’ that rolls back pollution controls? A ‘Healthy Forests Initiative’ that allows clearcutting? WMDs in Iraq?”
“You call that a strike?”
***
The more you think about it, the more overwhelmingly fitting this analogy becomes. The Red Sox, like the Democrats, came first, while the Yankees weren’t formed until 1903—exactly half a century after the Republican Party. Both the Yanks and the GOP were created as alternatives to feuding components of a divided organization: for the Yankees, those components were the Orioles, the Dodgers and the Giants; for the Republicans, they were the Whigs, the Democrats, and the Free Soil Party.
It gets better. John Kerry, the likely Democratic nominee, is a Senator from Massachusetts and a life-long Red Sox fan. George W. Bush, while not an admitted Yankees supporter, once owned the Texas Rangers, the team that just last week traded super-talent Alex Rodriguez to—wait for it—the Yankees. The president is clearly a student of the Yankee’s fiscal policy, too, as evidenced by his willingness to drop outrageous amounts of money on something everyone seemed to think was a good idea at the time. Iraq, you see, is Bush’s A-Rod.
I could keep going: With his tragic performance in 2000, isn’t Al Gore clearly the Bill Buckner of the Democratic Party? Don't Steinbrenner’s spending and Jeter’s Visa commercials prove that the Yanks love deficit spending at least as much as the Republicans? Didn’t Dick Cheney have the same conversation with President Bush that George Steinbrenner must have had with Brian Cashman, telling him that “deficits don’t matter”? Come to think of it, isn’t it creepy how much Cheney and Steinbrenner look alike?
Okay, this is starting to get scary.
***
On July 26, Democratic leaders will gather for the party’s convention, being held just down the street from Fenway Park in Boston. One month later, Republicans will meet for their convention. It's in New York City.
The season is just getting under way. Pitchers and catchers report in four days. Polls in Wisconsin close in 6 hours.
A showdown is looming. I can feel it. And in the fury to come, what happens on the field will carry with it a new symbolic significance. This year, baseball has acquired new meaning. It's emblematic: every pitch, every swing, every inning will speak of something greater than itself.
I don't know how it will end. I never claimed to. There is, in truth, only one thing I can say for sure:
This year, no matter what, I'll be awake.
16 February 2004
I know I haven't posted in a few days, but I wasn't AWOL, I swear. I'm willing to release the dental records to prove it.
Today I hope to get started on a post I've been mulling over for about a week now. I'll try to get it up by tonight. In the meantime, here are a few sites that are worth checking out: Matthew Gross and Joe Trippi, both formerly of the Dean campaign (Gross was resident Dean Internet Guru), have started their own blogs and they're heating up. And for the absolute latest in the George W. Bush National Guard scandal-in-the-making, check out Josh Marshall's transcript of Friday morning's White House press gaggle, which could be the match that lights the fuse that blows this whole thing wide open. The Washingtonian follows up here.
More to come.
13 February 2004
Another reason I can't help wanting to hug old Zell Miller, who said this to the Senate regarding the Super Bowl halftime show:
"How many of you have ever run over a skunk with your car? I have many times and I can tell you, the stink stays around for a long time. You can take the car through a car wash and it’s still there. So the scent of this event will long linger in the nostrils of America."
I bet he aimed for those skunks.
The New Republic's Noam Schieber compares John Kerry to overvalued stock and should be heeded:
I couldn't agree more with Will Saletan and Jon Chait on the subject of John Kerry's electability. Kerry is clearly benefiting from the fact that people think other people are going to vote for him down the road, which is why they're voting for him now; they're not voting for him because he's the candidate they personally want to be president. As Chait points out, this is classic bubble behavior--you buy a stock not because it's intrinsically valuable, but because other people are buying it and the price is going up (and you think both of these things is likely to continue). The problem with bubbles, both in politics and in financial markets, is that they tend to deflate just as rapidly as they inflate. Why? The answer is almost tautological: Because when you're buying something (say, a stock) not because you think it's valuable, but because you think other people think it's valuable, your opinion of its value changes the second you think other people's opinion of its value might change. So, for example, you sell not because something has happened that undermines your stock's intrinsic value--and not even because something has happened that undermines its value in other people's eyes. But because something has happened that you think could undermine its value in other people's eyes. And because everyone else is thinking the same way, they all sell at that point, too.
12 February 2004
I don't have the words to talk about this Kerry infidelity thing right now, so as is so often a wise decision I will let NewsMax.com speak on my behalf:
"There may be more skeletons tumbling out of Kerry's closet, according to WRKO-Boston radio talker Howie Carr. In his own Boston Herald column last December, Carr recalled one long-ago episode where the presidential candidate attempted to woo 'a luscious young gal pal' of a Boston nightclub owner.
"One night, they're all getting down, and among the guests is a four-sheets-to-the-wind Liveshot [Carr's knickname for Kerry]. The girl, who's up on current events, starts tearing into Kerry for his weathervane-like voting record, telling him he needs to make a 'commitment.'
"'Baby,' he finally says, swaying ever so slightly in the breeze, 'I am ready right now to make a commitment. To you.'"
AAAAHHHHH-hahahahahaha. And then she dumped him for Pink Floyd's drummer.
From the Department of It's About Damn Time: President Bush announces his plan to curb nuclear proliferation. And this just days after Pakistani scientist Dr. Abdul Qadeer Khan apologized for peddling uranium-enrichment machinery on the black market. And this just months after we attacked a country that didn't have that machinery.
And this in the midst of a National Guard scandal that Scott McClellan, for one, wishes would just go away.
A quote from the Post piece: "'We will find the middlemen, the suppliers and the buyers,' Bush said in language reminiscent of his anti-terrorism speeches after Sept. 11, 2001. 'We will find you, and we are not going to rest until you are stopped.'"
I like the sound of this. I can't help wondering, though, how things might be different if this had been his response to September 11. What if, rather than moving immediately from the Taliban to Iraq, the president had called for this international effort to stop the secret spread of WMDs? It seems clear that this is the true threat, the practice of which is holding a gun to the head of world peace. His cowboy-style fits so much better this way, too, rallying the troops rather than flipping them the bird. Which is precisely what we did, before promptly turning and riding off into the sunset of a sandy country that, it seems clear, could not have threatened us with anything more dangerous than words.
11 February 2004
Some guy's hilarious list of "Who and What Was Most Likely Responsible for the Births of Our Current Democratic Presidential Candidates."
Today: The President comes out of the Constitutional Amendment Closet and supports a federal ban on gay marriage. The response? In what would seem to be typical form, John Kerry restates his unfalteringly ambiguous position: he opposes both gay marriage and a constitutional amendment. So what does he support? Er, well, gay people, obviously. No, seriously, he does. Don't understand it? That's because it's complicated. Hey, don't be hatin'! Were YOU in Vietnam? That's what I thought, pinko.
Oh, and Josh Marshall asks the question of the year.
10 February 2004
A recent StopHillaryPAC article by Dick Morris invites oohs and ahhs. Things that make you go hmmm.
The demise of Howard Dean's candidacy opens the door to a Kerry/Clinton ticket in 2004. As long as Dean was favored to get the nomination, Hillary likely wasn't interested in the second slot on the ticket. With the Vermont governor almost certain to go down to a massive defeat, Hillary probably wanted no part in the ensuing carnage. But now that the Democrats have a real chance to win, it makes all kinds of sense to offer her the nomination and for her to accept it.
Very few vice-presidential candidates can actually win votes for the top of the ticket: Hillary can. She is the most popular Democrat in the nation. And a woman vice presidential candidate - particularly Hillary - would electrify the Democratic base and guarantee a huge turnout. It would transform a campaign into a crusade.
The voters she'd alienate? Already voting for Bush. And much as they might like to, they can't vote against Hillary more than once (one hopes). Just as no presidential nomination in the 1970s was complete without a ritual offering of the VP slot to Ted Kennedy, so it is quite likely that whether Kerry, Edwards or Clark wins the nomination, he'll pick up the phone and call Hillary.
Why should she accept?
First, it's a free shot on goal. She doesn't have to give up her Senate seat to run. If she wins, she's vice president. If she loses, she's still U.S. senator from New York until she has to run for re-election in 2006. But the big reason Hillary should run is that the Democrats might well win in 2004. If a new president takes office in 2004 - and runs for a second term in 2008 - Hillary will have to keep fresh for eight years, a hard task in the best of times.
In the Senate, she would be, at best, an onlooker as the action moves to a Democratic White House. But as vice president, she would have the on-deck circle to herself and would be the presumptive nominee in 2012.
Remember that of the past 18 major-party presidential nominees, eight have run first for vice president (Truman, Johnson, Nixon, Ford,Mondale, Bush, Dole and Gore).
If Hillary doesn't run for vice president on the Democratic ticket in 2004, the person who does will be a strong candidate against her in 2008 if the ticket loses and a presumptive favorite in 2012 if it wins. She doesn't need the competition.
Should Bush win re-election, it will likely not be by the massive margin by which he would probably have defeated Dean. There would be no shame for Hillary in running for vice president on a ticket that narrowly lost.
In a sense, Hillary has already served as vice president and found it both enjoyable and rewarding. During the first two years of Bill's first term, shewas a de facto chief of staff. But for the remainder of his White House tenure, she was, in
effect, another vice president, roaming the world, speaking out on issues she cared about, and raising money for the party. It's not a bad job.
But Hillary has one other good reason to say yes: Rudy Giuliani. If the former mayor runs against her for the Senate seat in '06, polls indicate that she would face a very, very tough fight. Her first race against Rick Lazio would be a cakewalk next to a battle against Giuliani. Rudy may run against Hillary - even though he'd rather be governor - in order to accumulate points with the Republican faithful so that they consider him for president in 2008.
Giuliani's pro-choice, pro-gun control, pro-affirmative action, pro-gay-rights positions won't endear him to the GOP right wing. But knocking off Hillary might engender the forgiveness he needs. So, if Rudy might run, wouldn't it be the better part of valor to get out of the way of the charging bull and run for vice president instead?
Are You There, God? It's Me, Democracy
The Washington Monthly, a magazine I wouldn't work at if they paid me*, has just published a mindblowingly-astute article on the relationship between Democrats and religion. Read it here.
This topic is something that I've been thinking about ever since I found out that Howard Dean left his church over of a dispute about a bike path. This strikes me as funny, the mental image of a furious Howard Dean storming out of a church group meeting, fists white-knuckled in rage over the location of that darn bike path. In my mental scenario, before Dean marches off he lashes out at all the puerile church-goers, Iowa-style: "You don't like my bike path idea? Well then I'm going to Catholicism! I'm going to Protestantism! I'm going to Judaism! Then I'm going Washington, DC to take back the White House....YEEAAARRRGH!"
Okay, that was a cheap shot.
You have to admit, though, this story is kind of ridiculous. It wouldn't be unreasonable to quit your community service group over a dispute like that, I suppose. You could bail on the PTA for something comparable. But church? Isn't there something more important going on at church? Isn't he kind of missing the point?
I think so. And had Dean won the primary, I believe America would have agreed. There's a certain frivolity implied in an act like that, a certain disdain for the significant aspects of religion--a dearth of faith--that most Americans would undoubtedly find deeply troubling. If I was Karl Rove (knock on motherfreaking wood), I would have a heyday putting together a political ad on this one issue. I can see it now: we open with a camera moving languidly down a pleasant, wooded bike path, past kids doing wholesome things, like knitting, somersaulting and, I don't know, praying. Everything has a divine glow. A soothing voice narrates the spot, with words extoling the virtues of Bush's faith-based initiatives, his fight against militant Islam, his unwillingness to Leave even one Child Behind. Images of soldiers and flags fade in and out. Then, at the end of the bike path, we see Howard Dean, his face superimposed on the body of Satan, kicking a puppy. And that's the ballgame.
If there is one absolute in modern politics, it's that you can't win the presidency without the support of deists. Most of America believes in God, and most of America reserves a certain amount of distrust for those who don't. The president needs to represent--or, at the very least, not offend--most of America. And most of America would have a hard time believing that Howard Dean's God had a problem with a bike path.
Amy Sullivan handles this much more eloquently. Check it out, as I'm sure the campaigns are all doing, and then let's wait and see if the Democrats, after all, have a prayer.
*I actually offered to work there for free.
Dave Pell at electablog* gives a Cliff's Notes forecast of the presidential debate to come:
Bush: War on terror
Kerry: Vietnam
Bush: Evil doers
Kerry: Band of Brothers
Bush: Grave and growing
Kerry: Imminent?
Bush: Let me step back a moment
Kerry: (sensing weakness) Mekong Delta
Bush: (regaining composure) Massachusetts Liberal
Kerry: I don't like to talk about it, but I'm a war hero.
Bush: Bring it On
Kerry: No, I have three words for you. Bring ... It ... On
Bush: Let's Roll
Kerry: I'm coming, you're going and...
Bush: I haven't heard you talk like that since our Skull and Bones initiation week.
Kerry: ... don't let the door hit you on the way out.
Bush: (pounding a fist) The Almighty, Faith-based, Mel Gibson, God Bless
Kerry: Ketchup fortune, good hair, tall, I can still drink
Bush: Fake Vietnam stories
Kerry: That was Bob Kerrey
Bush: Dukakis
Kerry: Ashcroft
Bush: Lobbyists
Kerry: Halliburton
Bush: The South!
Kerry: Smart people
Bush: You're rich!
Kerry: You love the rich
Bush: Gay marriage, Sodomy, the L word, Carson Kressley
Kerry: Ralph Reed?
Bush: Shadows, caves, murderers
Kerry: Program related activities?
Bush: (with the classic accusatory smirk) ... Senator!
Kerry: (taken aback) ... (long pause) ... Flightsuit!
Bush: Military spending dove
Kerry: Flightsuit
Bush: Votes to cut funding for intelligence agencies
Kerry: Flightsuit
Bush: Bring it On
Kerry: Bring it On
...Meanwhile, the Wonkette compares Howard Dean to the Black Knight, with hilarious results.
09 February 2004
Democracy at its microcosmic finest:
"LONG ISLAND, Maine -- In the galactic-sized process of choosing a presidential candidate, this island of lobstermen and mainland refugees 4 miles off the coast of Portland is a speck, charged with selecting a single delegate to the state convention where about 3,500 delegates will select the 24 that go to the national convention in Boston."
From the Globe; read it here.
08 February 2004
Evidence weighed heavily by the courts in the same-sex marriage debate and a concept I find funny: gay penguins.
07 February 2004
The Rise and Fall of Howard Dean
Justin called me last night from Burlington. He wanted to let me know that the campaign had just broken the $1 million dollar mark for its latest drive. After announcing that Wisconsin was a "must-win" state, the campaign raised $700,000 almost immediately; now, they're hoping to double it in time for the WI primary next Tuesday (you can check out how they're doing here). I had talked to Justin that afternoon, about 6 hours earlier, and in the time between our conversations the campaign raised over $300,000. That breaks down to about $50,000 an hour, $834 a minute, $14 a second.
This is amazing for several reasons. First, when you go to the website you see that the contribution options are in increments of $25, and indeed the average contribution to the Dean campaign is $77. Compare this to BC04's average of $211. Money going to Dean is coming from people who can't afford to give a lot, and that's significant, because somehow he has still convinced them to give something, to give what they can. Second, you may have noticed that Howard Dean has not exactly been dominating the race over the last few weeks. Several major pundits are already drafting his political obituary, perhaps with good reason, yet the campaign still manages to pull down donations at a blinding rate.
So, how?
Part of the answer probably lies in what is considered by some to be the cult-like mentality of a lot of Deaniacs. For whatever reason, Howard Dean's candidacy seems to evoke the kind of passionate loyalty usually reserved for South American soccer teams. At its height, I would not have been at all surprised to see the overwhelming energy of a Dean rally degenerate into car-flipping violence, Lollapalooza style, in the name of taking back the White House, turning one of those early Jefferson-Jackson dinners into a Royal Rumble. Thankfully, though, that didn't happen.
But something else did. At one particular Dean rally, the passion and energy was so overpowering, so contagious, even the candidate himself couldn't control his excitement. He railed, he fumed, and, as we now know all too well, he screamed. It was "the scream heard round the world," the "I Have a Scream" speech, and it dominated news cycles and late night talk show banter for what seemed like an age. In the analysis to come, a lot of people will argue that this was the shot that punctured Howard Dean's campaign. I disagree; I think it widened a hole in the hull of a ship that had been sinking for a while.
***
When Howard Dean stepped onto the national stage, the Democratic party was a shambles. President Bush was looking at a 70% job approval rating, a patriotic war on terror and a seemingly breezy walk into a second term. The prominent Democrats--Kerry, Lieberman, Daschle--were hesitant to confront a popular president who was waging a war they had supported with their votes. They didn't have a chance. They were afraid to get mad. We all were.
Then, out of literally nowhere, comes Howard Dean, a doctor from a state known more for hippies than health care. He's articulate, he's animated, and he swears up and down that this president is a scoundrel, that this war is a sham, and that we have the power to change things for the better. He calls out the leading Dems as being "Bush Lite," and it hurts. Dean's fury echoes a common anger, the frustration felt by so many of not being able to question the president's policies without being called a traitor, and that resonates with people. The beauty of Dean's shop (headed up by Joe Trippi) is that it figures out how to take that frustration, turn it into kinetic energy, and then use that energy to fuel a movement. It's pure science.
Howard Dean proves difficult to put in a box; his is not an unruly politics. He wears a suit, he balanced a budget. His fiscal conservatism and high rating from the NRA throw off the initial doubters, who hoped to dismiss him as another Birkenstock baby-boomer, Dennis Kucinich with money. And his rage throws off even Democrats, who watch it first with surprise, then interest, then glee. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Howard Dean sets a fire.
He plays the agitator role perfectly, and before long the race for the Democratic nomination has become the Doctor Dean Show. At one point, John Kerry sums up what all the candidates must have been feeling when he responds to a question about the Governor by shaking his head in bewilderment and muttering, "Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean." It's the moment every once-unknown insurgent dreams about.
Dean becomes a target, commenting in a debate that he keeps having to "pull buckshot out of my rear end." The incredible truth, though, is that as the candidates attack him time and again, they're simultaneously incorporating his message into their own campaigns. Gradually, carefully, each candidate learns to feed on that same anger at the Bush administration and its policies. The attacks on the president increase, inspiring even the normally-genteel Gephardt to call Bush a "miserable failure" three times in a single debate. The Dean campaign's money-raising "bat" is reincarnated at johnkerry.com in the form of a hammer. Like mosquitoes on an arm, the other candidates all try to get their proboscises in the giant vein tapped first by Howard Dean.
And, over time, they succeed. These days, John Kerry is as virulently anti-war as anyone you'll find. So is John Edwards. Know what else they despise? Special interests. Know what they love? Health care. Know who they think needs a one-way bus ticket back to Crawford, Texas?...
***
On the phone, Justin sighs and says, "The president's collecting all this special interest money, and he's obviously going to owe them something in return. And here's Dean, and where's he getting all his money? The American people. So when he gets to the White House, that's where his debts will lie." And I think to myself, that's so true. That's how it's supposed to work.
***
Kerry's surge in the last few weeks has been attributed to the electability issue. I've always thought this was a bogus concept; anyone is electable if you vote for them. What it means, though, is that the voters are serious about nominating a candidate who can defeat President Bush come November, and for any number of reasons they have decided that that candidate is not Howard Dean. In the end, he was simply too easy a target for Karl Rove, too unpredictable, too risky. This time around the Democrats have apparently decided they're not going out like that. What should be made clear is that this decision is neither a rejection of Dean's message nor his fervor. To the contrary, it's an affirmation of it. Just, in someone else.
If this is an ending, it's bittersweet. Without question, the rise of Howard Dean was the best thing to happen to the Democratic Party in this election. Perhaps the second-best thing was his fall. We should acknowledge the importance of his contribution, the innovation and inspiration he returned to a faltering movement, and we should thank him for raising us up.
Then, politely, we should wish him luck in his medical practice.
I assume you have all seen RalphDon'tRUn - a very clever site designed to dissuade Nader from running for President again this year and diverting (stealing?) votes from the Dem candidate, whomever he may be. What you may not have heard was Nader's interview on All Things Considered the other night. Take a listen. He's pretty defensive, no?
It's a tough call. Of course it is Nader's right to run for President. It is also our right not to vote for him. If he does decide to run, maybe it's a more worthwhile campaign to urge people not to vote for him. Appealing to people's ego. Your Vote Matters. Don't Vote for Ralph.
But the other side of me says this is ridiculous. If people are not happy with the Dem candidates - if they think Kerry and Edwards and Dean are pussy-footing around the real issues in order to bring in more money or keep their base or grab independents - why shouldn't they support a third-party candidate who seems to embody their feelings and political priorities? Simply because that means the Dem is less likely to win?
Like I said, tough call.
06 February 2004
Allah Pundit's Howard Dean comic strips are some of the funniest things I've ever seen. Today's post is a little melancholy, though.
The legacy of the Dean Campaign is something I've been considering a lot lately and hope to post about soon. In the meantime, try this on for size.
05 February 2004
Iraq and a Hard Place
When David Kay started making the news show circuit talking about the absence of WMDs in Iraq, I wasn't sure if he was an idiot or a genius. Not to be too judgmental, but he kind of looks like the former. His nasal voice and awkward exuberance make you think you're listening to a physics grad student talking about his unbridled love of photons. I can only imagine the discomfort felt by the Bush administration in the face of his report; here was a guy who knew what he was talking about and had the power to make the president look very bad, and yet, from the looks of things, he wasn't blaming the administration at all. Instead, his polite condemnation was aimed at the intelligence community, which he says failed the president by over-hyping the evidence regarding Iraq's weapons capabilities. Because Kay wasn't directly attacking White House policy, he wasn't a clear enemy; by seemingly exonerating the administration, Kay couldn't be quite so easily struck down. That is to say, he was no Paul O'Neill. Where O'Neill had made Karl Rove fume, I imagine Kay makes him queasy.
And with good reason. Speaking at Georgetown University today, George Tenet did a somewhat erratic dance in his defense of the prewar intelligence provided by the CIA, claiming on one hand that the search for WMD in Iraq is "nowhere near" finished, and on the other hand that the agency never descibed Iraq as "an imminent threat." So, in other words, not only is the CIA innocent, but they will soon be vindicated. He made nearly explicit reference to Kay's criticism and rejected the idea that political considerations tainted the reporting of evidence. "We will always call it as we see it," he said.
What does this mean? Well, I think it means Karl Rove's queasiness is about to make him boot. By process of elimination, I would guess that this makes the president look very bad. If the CIA never used the word 'imminent,' if Kay and the early doubters were right, if politics didn't impact the intelligence reports (which may be assuming a lot), then somebody else screwed the pooch. And by my calculations, there's only one such somebody left. And that would be the same somebody who justified the war to the nation, just over a year ago, in his State of the Union address.
I think David Kay must have known how this would work. So maybe he's a Lambda Lambda Lambda, so what? Didn't the nerd get the girl in the end of that movie? I think you're pickin up what I'm puttin down.
04 February 2004
The Rude Pundit's critique of Dennis Miller's new show is not for the faint of heart, but so, so on point.
Outstanding. Last night at the bar my friend Danny explained why he thinks it's best if the field stays as wide open as possible for as long as possible. Sure they're spending gobs of money that could be put towards the general election, but it's still going there, in a way. These days, the only thing on the news other than the Four Trials--Martha, Kobe, Scott and Michael--is the democratic race. It dominates every news cycle. So if Edwards hadn't blitzed SC last night, and if Clark hadn't eked out a win in the Sooner State (official bird: the Scissor-tailed Flycatcher), then Kerry would be indubitable and that would be that. As it stands, we have weeks of unpredictable caucusing and inevitable infighting between the candidates to look forward to, not to mention countless prickly jabs at the Bush administration, perhaps a few more televised debates, and certainly more evenings at the Hawk 'n' Dove, where on Tuesday night you can get an entire plate of wings for a buck.
The more candidates in the race, the more prominent people there are bopping around America shooting holes in the president's agenda. I really think it's that simple. Emily works at the DNC and was talking about how they're pulling down more than a few $25,000 donations, which is the limit, and that it's all going into a war chest for whoever runs the show after July's convention in Boston. There's plenty of money out there, but you can't buy this kind of coverage.
So, parry on, politicians. Your barbs are my excuse to get drunk on a Tuesday.
Oh, and here's a good page on the delegate count, with a description at the end of how this all works. Looks like every state gets delegates based on population and the previous presidential election results, and that those delegates are divided between candidates based on what percentage of the vote they get in that state. On top of that, there are random democratic officials who also have a vote at the convention, and they can pledge or unpledge their votes to whomever they want. These guys are called "Superdelegates," which I for one think means they should have to wear capes.
03 February 2004
Early results show Kerry with formidable wins in MO, ND, DE and AZ, Edwards rocking SC, and three-way races in OK and NM. What does this mean? Well, among other things, it means Joementum is a busted myth. It means Howard Dean has his work cut out for him. And it means I've been drinking since 5.
This should spice things up. Let's talk about it tomorrow, I'm hammered.
I read somewhere today that Janet has now exposed herself to more children than Michael. Ugh.
As for the commercials, I too thought something was missing...Let's see...could it have been....a classy spot about the opportunities available in the federal government, featuring a certain former autumnal fellow as Uncle Sam? Yes, you know, I think that's exactly what it was.
The real tragedy of the Super Bowl is that, with the low caliber of the ads this year, we would have locked up the internet vote for "Best Commercial." Can you imagine the publicity? It would have made my life, especially with the Pats' victory. I know everybody thought I was kidding with that treatment--MT actually patted me on the head at the Christmas party while she related the story to her husband--but I was completely serious. You guys should really push it for next year. It's a goldmine, I tell you!
Look out ladies and gents, IIIIIIIIIII'm back!
OK so let's talk about Super Bowl commercials. I was sitting there watching them with my mother-in-law and I was so mortified I wanted to crawl under the sofa. At first I was surprised about my seeming fuddy-duddiness, but upon further reflection it became more clear. Do these advertisers think that all male Super Bowl watchers are scatalogical, beer guzzling neanderthals?
I mean, come on people. Horses with gas, horny monkeys, and erectile dysfunction. I understand that the Super Bowl audience is as much of a slice of life as you're really going to get, but I would imagine that at least half (okay, maybe 30 percent?) of the males in the audience are not going to find that kind of crap amusing. I mean, it was amusing in a lowest-common-denominator way, but... come on! What happened to the brilliant and clever commercials that brought witty, non-football-watching females in the thousands to Super Bowl parties everywhere? I'm talking your Buddy Lees(Lee Jeans), and your Volkswagen (before they went too mainstream) spots. Things that actually make you marvel at the creative, humorous, and/or artistic genius behind the 30 seconds.
Whatever you want to say about Janet Jackson's mammary extravaganza, I'm hoping at least one thing comes of it: people start understanding that contrary to conventional wisdom, Americans are looking for more than just crudeness and beer commercials. If we're going to be filling our heads with crap from the boob tube (no pun intended), we might as well stimulate our minds and what we saw on Super Bowl Sunday just wasn't cuttin i. Americans are not as dumb as we all think. OK, well, some Americans. Maybe 25 percent. Fewer? Okay maybe 5. Or maybe it's just me.
02 February 2004
Finding Spaz
My housemate Rob has this incredible fish tank set up in the dining room. It's full of coral and all kinds of anemones, plus snails and crabs and about 12 tropical fish. At least, there used to be 12. There was Mambo, Peanut, the clown fish Cirque and Soleil, the five little blue fish named, respectively, 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5, Jailbird, Sunshine, and Spaz. Spaz is my favorite. He's this red fish with fins too small for his body and a real go-getter attitude. I think he doesn't have the energy to swim around all the time, because he just blasts off in these frantic spurts of flapping for about 10 seconds at a time before coming to rest on whatever's closest. I've never seen a fish sit before, but that's what he does. He just sits there on his belly and takes a breather, looking around, like, "I think I've been here before." Then, suddenly, he takes off again, usually right into the wall of the tank. If Spaz was a human, he would wear a helmet.
We used to sit around drinking beers before we went out and just watch the fish. Things were good for a while; the 5 stuck together, Mambo hung out in the caves, and Spaz careened around like some kind of bipolar NASCAR driver. And so it went.
Until, one day, everything changed. I don't know what it was. It may have been a delayed reaction to the introduction of Jailbird, who was new, but basically these fish started freaking out. Weird things began to happen. One day, for instance, one of the little blue fish, I think it was 4, was all screwed up. His eyes were coated over with something that looked like tin foil and he was just kind of drifting around, bobbing back and forth like a tiny little piscine Stevie Wonder. So we were none too surprised when he wound up floating at the top of the tank. That reduced the number of fish to 11, and the number of little blue fish to four--1, 2, 3, and 5--for those of you keeping score at home.
But that was just the beginning. One fateful morning someone noticed that Jailbird was missing. He'd been acting pretty skittish around Sunshine, and our suspicions were confirmed when Rob found Jailbird's body stashed behind some rocks at the back of the tank--sans head. It was like a mob hit, kind of a cross between the horse head and "Jailbird sleeps with the fishes." We can't prove anything, but the evidence certainly points to Sunshine. They say it's always the quiet ones.
The other day, Rob was doing something to the tanks, maybe changing the water or purifying it or something, I don't know. It involved a lot of tubes and buckets. Anyway, the long and the short of it is that I have no frigging idea where Spaz is. He's nowhere to be seen. Tonight Matt and I were looking all over the place for him. I even put in a little fish food, expecting to see him come flailing out from behind the coral to get some eats like he always does. But no love.
I was like, woah, and Matt was like, woah, and we were like, woah. I'll keep an eye out for him, but I'm not holding out a lot of hope at this point.
Spaz, we hardly knew ye.
[Late Update, 11 pm: Rob just found Spaz--on the floor under the tank. He must have jumped out. He was all dry and crusty. I just flushed him down the toilet.
Somehow, though, I'm glad to know he went out in a blaze of glory. Can you imagine what all the other fish were thinking as they watched their retarded little buddy go rocketing out of the water? That's pretty funny.
And to think, all that spastic flapping around had a point after all... Spaz wasn't crazy.
He was practicing.
RIP Spaz, 2003-2004]
If we really want to protect the sanctity of marriage, the best place to start might be FOX. This article by Frank Rich in the Arts section of yesterday's Times spells it out beautifully, with an astute eye to the cultural significance of the Dean's interview with Diane Sawyer, and is definitely worth a read.
01 February 2004
