FIRST DRAFT

Weekend Question Thread

On Thursday afternoon on Twitter the discussion was about #RejectedObamaEntranceSongs, and this was my entry: 

I'm on some kind of Rihanna kick lately. I blame the running. Two-thirds of her catalog is just perfect for that moment halfway over the hill when you're thinking about dying so you don't have to finish the route. 

What would you like to see the president (doesn't have to be this one, could be FDR or something) swagger onto the stage in time to? 

A.

“Death isn’t always sad…”

 

That line from Bill Maher’s “tribute” to Jerry Falwell came to mind today as I heard that former NFL team owner Art Modell had passed on (pun intended).

Sorry, Art. I can’t say “goodnight” to you here, but I can say “good riddance.”

Modell owned the Cleveland Browns for more than 30 years before taking the team to Baltimore and renaming it the Ravens. He did this despite the overwhelming protestation of Browns fans, the city of Cleveland and the NFL itself.

For this reason, Modell was essentially exiled from his adopted hometown and despite his decades of service to the NFL and his work in advancing it through the AFL/NFL merger remains a Hall of Fame reject.

However, Modell was an asshole long before he decided to treat Cleveland like a roll of Charmin.

He bought the Browns in 1961 and fired the team’s iconic coach and namesake, Paul Brown, just two years later. According to Cleveland legend, the timing of Brown’s firing was set to coincide with a citywide newspaper strike, as to avoid any backlash.

Brown had won seven titles. Modell won the 1964 title with long-time Browns assistant Blanton Collier at the helm. It would be the city’s last major championship.

And yet, he would do the city one better in 1993 when coach Bill Belichick clashed with quarterback Bernie Kosar.

Kosar was a local kid from Boardman, Ohio, who led the Miami Hurricanes to a national championship. Through a series of maneuvers to qualify for the 1986 supplemental draft, Kosar might have been the only athlete ever to game the system in an attempt to play IN Cleveland. He often called it his dream job.

Kosar was the guy who took the Browns to the AFC championship game multiple times and appeared poised to make a run in 1993 as well, when Belichick benched him in favor of Heisman washout Vinny Testaverde. To sooth the wound and attempt to smooth the waters, Modell referred to Kosar as “my son” and gave him a 5-year, $27-million contract extension.

Kosar was cut a week or two later. In a sweet twist of irony, Kosar was signed as a back up QB for the Dallas Cowboys, who won the Super Bowl that year.

Of course, at the time Modell allowed this to occur, the Browns were 5-3 and in the hunt in the AFC Central. Testaverde was hurt and the team had no legitimate starter.

And, hey, when you can take the field with the immortal Todd Philcox leading the charge, you have to take that chance, right?

In the early 1970s, Modell took over as the landlord of Cleveland Municipal Stadium. Modell saw this as a venue to quick cash, as he would take over the stadium from the city for $1 per year while assuming all operating costs and revenue. The trick was that while the Browns played 14 to 16 games per season, the other tenant, the Cleveland Indians, would play 81 home games each year. Thus, Modell was able to charge both his own team and the Indians rent, thus doubly feathering his own pockets. Despite this, he consistently lost money on the deal and the stadium continued crumble. When the city worked with new Indians owner Dick Jacobs to build a baseball-only park, Modell refused to find a way to become part of the Gateway Project and attempted to block the construction. In the end, the Indians got the stadium and Modell lost out. He then began looking for a way out.

Like it or hate it, the NFL is a license to print money. The league has salary caps, non-guaranteed contracts and revenue sharing. Stadiums routinely sell out for exorbitant prices, concessions are overpriced to the point of avarice and this shows no sign of stopping any time soon. You almost have to TRY to lose money if you own a team in the post-merger world of the NFL.

And yet, lose Modell did.

He consistently reported losing money throughout the 1970s and 1980s. He once noted that he had to “go to four or five banks” to find someone who would lend him the necessary money to finance wide receiver Andre Rison’s $5 million bonus.

(And, hey, when you have a chance to sign a guy who’s nickname is “Bad Moon” and who had his rap star girlfriend burn his house down, you really should take that chance, right?)

Think about this for a second: Imagine an NFL majority owner showing up at a BANK  and having him BEG for a loan. And then imagine that the guy had to do that four or five times until he found someone who would pony up.

Even in the wild post-Reagan deregulation, consumption-based economy, FOUR OR FIVE BANKERS decided that an NFL OWNER was a BAD INVESTMENT.

Modell never figured this out.

In 1995, Modell did figure something out: Other cities want teams too. He cut a backroom deal to move the team to Baltimore, ignoring pleas from civic leaders to simply sell the team to his friend, billionaire Al Lerner. Modell repeatedly said he wanted to keep the team for his family.

Part of me always wanted to blame Baltimore for this. I found it offensive that the city that watched Robert Irsay steal the Colts out of town under the cover of night would do the same thing to someone else’s city. It always felt as incongruent as a rape victim going out and becoming a rapist.

Despite a free, modern stadium and tax breaks that would make Scott Walker blush, he kept losing money. Each year, he had to sell a little more of the team.

When he died, he owned 1 percent of the team, which some people viewed as a thinly veiled way to get around a multi-million dollar finder’s fee he would owe if he ever sold the team.

So much for “the family.”

So much for “the Browns” who remain a laughing stock expansion team that was reborn in 1999 in attempt to shut the city of Cleveland up.

So much for death being the ultimate equalizer, in which we all look for something nice to say about someone who has gone.

Sorry. I can’t.

I can’t look at photos of his fat, toady face or listen to clips of his self-serving bullshit or even watch a Ravens game without getting upset.

Modell had his vision blurred by his own arrogance, frittered away money through his own stupidity and damaged a glorious franchise through his own greed.

If I looked hard into his past and tried really hard to find something great about him, I’m sure I could, but doing so would only make me as hypocritical as he was.

It’s like having to compliment a chef on his choice of ketchup.

In his final years, people talked about him with a slightly softer tone (outside of Cleveland, that is). It reminded me of a book I once read called “Nixon Reconsidered,” which was written near his death in 1994. The idea was that perhaps now that time had passed, it was worth giving Tricky Dick a pass. He did some good things and had some bad breaks and some regrets and… Gee… shouldn’t we let bygones be bygones?

Each time Modell comes up for the Hall of Fame, this issue reemerges. Each time, a good many journalists and fans recall how Modell took a shit in the punch bowl and bolted from the party without saying so much as a goodbye.

Perhaps the only thing about Art Modell that made me happy was going to ESPN.com and finding his obituary and noticing two things:

1) It wasn’t worth putting out front. I actually had to dig for it on the site.

2) It couldn’t refer to him as “Hall of Famer” Art Modell.

Friday Ferretblogging

Bucky's a sleepy sleepyhead.

A. 

Friday Catblogging: Stray Cat Strut

Oscar and Della are taking the week off so here's a video of some furheads "singing" Stray Cat Strut:

 

Odds & Sods: DNC Edition

I missed the RNC so my frame of reference may be skewed but the Democrats put on a helluva shindig in Charlotte. The themes and issues stressed give me  the impression that they plan to run as Democrats instead of putting a finger in the air and waiting for the wind to blow. I'm very curious to see if the post-convention bounce is now a thing of the past since Romney didn't get one.

Here are a few random and discursive comments of 3 days of oratory. Hmm, that sounds like a Mad Men recap only with wider lapels and ties:

The Prez: Obama did what he needed to do. It was a sober and reflective speech that fits the uncertain times. There were several touches of humility and I liked it when he asked people to vote for him. People like to be asked.

Big John & Joey the Shark: The best speeches-that I saw at least-on Thursday came from Athenae's boy friend John Kerry and America's eccentric but lovable Uncle, Joe Biden. Kerry was fiery, passionate and self-deprecating. Biden was, as always, warm and likable and his focus on Obama as, uh, decider-in-Chief was both fascinating and politically helpful. I really get sick of everyone dissing Joey the Shark. The man took out Robert Fucking Bork, y'all. Btw, if you've never read Richard Ben Cramer's book about the otherwise desultory 1988 campaign, What It Takes, check it out. The sections about Biden are a hoot.

Arithmetic: It was classic Clinton, full of folksy humor and ad libs. The man riffs like a political version of, my personal hero, Crow T. Robot. It reminded me of his first State Of The Union speech, where he riffed early and often and substantively too. He also flipped the bird to all the pundits and Gopers who said he'd cause mischief for Obama. Who cares if they don't roast schmores by the fireside and drink cocoa together in their jammies?

Michelle: FLOTUS has guns y'all. One of my lesbian twitter buddies said that she wanted to lick her shoulders. Anyway, loved the content, delivery and the bit about the rusted car. I also enjoy watching her talk with her hands. Her fingers are long and graceful, like birds fluttering about the podium.

The Perfesser: Elizabeth Warren's speech has been underrated because she was Elvis' opening act. I thought it was excellent; especially the content. I'm really hoping that she'll beat that poser Scott Brown. I have an ulterior motive: I'd like John Kerry to be the next Secretary of State, and if she loses, he may not get the nod. Why? He's qualified and Secretarys of State tend to be popular (see, Clinton, Hillary and Albright, Madeline) and the man deserves some love from his party and nation.

The Keynote: Julian Castro's speech was probably the best written of the entire convention. The bit about immigration being like a relay race evoked JFK's inaugural speech, and any time a speech gets compared to a Ted Sorenson/Jack Kennedy classic, it's a real humdinger. I also enjoyed the Mayor's mischievous smile when he was trashing the Mittbot and Ayn Ryan.

Red Meat Governors: Deval Patrick and Ted Strickland kicked some ass, y'all. Patrick's telling Dems that it's time to grow a backbone had me hitting the sound effects buttons in the only Crack Van I was able to make. And Strickland's if "Mitt Romney were Santa Claus" line still has me chortling or is that cackling?

My lost cause: I'm one of the few who uses the proper pronunciation of the last name of 2 great 20th Century Presidents. It's Rooo-se-velt not Rose-evelt. They were Dutch, y'all.

Final thoughts: The DNC reinforced my belief that Obama will win re-election. Candidates matter, y'all. Mitt Romney is quite simply the worst candidate of my lifetime: he makes Michael Dukakis look warm and charismatic and Bob Dole look sweet and cuddly. To paraphrase Joey the Shark: the Mittbot has a balance sheet instead of a heart.

Let the games begin...

BRUCE

Speaking of men who I don't care how old they get I WOULD STILL HIT THAT SO HARD, here's the song that played the DNC off last night: 

A. 

Shorter John Kerry: Who You Callin' A Bitch?

U-N-I-T-Y: 

Ask Osama bin Laden is he is better off now than he was four years ago.

[snip]

You know it isn’t -- it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair to say that Mitt Romney doesn’t have a position on Afghanistan. He has every position.

(APPLAUSE)

He -- he was against -- he was against setting a date for withdrawal. Then he said it was right. And then he left the impression that maybe it was wrong to leave this soon. He said it was tragic to leave Iraq. And then he said it was fine. He said we should have intervened in Libya sooner. Then he ran down a hallway to run away from the reporters who were asking questions. Then he said, the intervention was too aggressive. And then he said the world was a better place because the intervention succeeded. Talk about being for it, before you were against it.

(APPLAUSE) Mr. Romney -- Mr. Romney -- Mr. Romney, here’s a little advice; before you debate Barack Obama on foreign policy, you’d better finish the debate with yourself.

(APPLAUSE)

Now -- President Mitt Romney -- President Mitt Romney, three very hypothetical words that mystified and alienated our allies this summer. For Mitt Romney an overseas trip was what you call it when you trip all over yourself overseas.

(APPLAUSE)

You know, it wasn’t -- it wasn’t a goodwill mission. It was a blooper reel.

[snip]

Folks, Sara Palin said she could see Russia from Alaska. Mitt -- Mitt Romney talks like he’s only seen Russia by watching Rocky IV.

At which point the watching party I was at lost its goddamn collective mind. 

People are always surprised whenever I tell them my one true political love is John Kerry. I mean, John Kerry? He's boring. He lost. And conventional wisdom is that he lost because he was boring and elite and lacked backbone and what have you, he windsurfed and shit. He's French. 

Well, call me a Frog because hot damn, last night he walked out onto the stage and told Mitt Romney his other ride was Mitt's mom and next time if Romney doesn't shape up he might not use the saddle. 

And immediately the commentary was WHERE WAS THIS GUY FOUR YEARS AGO, because certainly our noble political punditry couldn't possibly have fallen all over itself to make Kerry unsuitable despite the hockey-playing, liberal-lion-2, war-hero story he had to offer them. Surely they couldn't have missed something. 

Except yeah: 

"Did the training wheels fall off?" –-after being told by reporters that President Bush took a tumble during a bike ride "Here I am in the state of New Mexico. George Bush is still in the state of denial. New Mexico has five electoral votes. The state of denial has none. I like my chances." "Invading Iraq in response to 9/11 would be like Franklin Roosevelt invading Mexico in response to Pearl Harbor." "Being lectured by the president on fiscal responsibility is a little bit like Tony Soprano talking to me about law and order in this country." "Cheney can claim Bush as a dependent." –-item #3 on Kerry's "Top 10" list of Bush tax proposals, as read on the "Late Show With David Letterman" "I wanted to have John Edwards stand. Dick Cheney wanted to sit. We compromised and now George Bush is gonna sit on Dick Cheney's lap." –- discussing negotiations over the vice presidential debate

(And before anybody starts in with me about Edwards, ask yourself if the worst thing he has ever done is still nicer than the nicest thing Dick Cheney has ever done. As long as he wasn't Vice President of Being Responsible With One's Penis, he probably could have muddled through.)

In fact, watching Kerry actually made me remember my biggest disappointment with Obama, his truly dismal record on civil liberties. That was what Kerry ran on in 2004, and the biggest wrong he would have righted if we could have pulled our heads out of our asses and elected him. It was why, all kidding about OMG WHATTA BABE aside, I fell in love with him: He went to war and came home and at the age of 27 walked into the halls of Congress and said stop this, stop this now before it gets any worse. 

We all should have listened then, and again in 2004. Maybe we'll listen now. 

A. 

DNC Final Crack Van Nooooooo

It can't be over already! We still have half a jug of scotch in the back seat! 

I'm going to be at a convention-watch party but I'll be in the van as much as I can because OMG KERRY. DeeLorelei may be checking in from Charlotte. Posts in the van belong to their posters, not to First Draft World HQ Inc. Pet the ferrets.

Update: van closed. Talk in comments amongst yourselves until I get home from this party and can gibber about Kerry some more because HOLY FUCKING SHIT MAN WALKS ON FUCKING MOON. Also there is this Obama dude who is pretty good at speeches.

A.

The DNC and the Story of Us

I understand it, in a way. 

There's a comfort in being alone. If you're all you've got, you're all you've got to worry about. You're all you've got to protect. You're all you've got to feed, and clothe, and pay, and pray for. You know what's yours, and you know what you're capable of. There's a solidity in that, a relief. 

And it's a lie. 

We are none of us alone. 

You can try to be. You can try all you want. You can wall yourself off, behind a wall of money or anger or hate or fear. You can crawl into your hole and swear you'll never come out.

But eventually someone finds you. They always do. Somebody is always knocking on the door. Sending you an e-mail, a letter, a note. Calling you up. Saying hello on the street. Pushing you, changing you, loving you, no matter how hard you resist. Somebody always finds a way in, and then you're lost, you're in it, you're a part of the world.  

That's the price. And the reward. And over and over in speeches all week that's what we've been hearing about. About the ways in which we engage one another, and the rewards of the same.

Good schools benefit me, though I have no children.

A good job for me benefits you, because I can buy food at your store.

A pension for you benefits me, because you stay in your home, and are my good neighbor.

You defend me in the military, and I care for you when you are wounded.

 I am sick, and you pay for my medicine, and you are sick, and I pay for yours. 

These are the deals we make, and should make. Listen to Sister Simone:

Listen to that. That is love without limits. Call it Christ if you want, I have no problem with that. I'm not sure it matters what you call it, though, because that isn't a bludgeon. That is a torch. 

We are so scared, everybody who listened to last week's RNC speeches about me and mine and what I built and what you owe me and how you're lazy and I'm the only hard worker here. We are so scared that everybody else isn't going to hold up their end of the bargain. We are so scared to get taken for suckers, to have to pay for somebody else's mistakes. 

Guess what? That's all this is. That's all life is, every day. Mistakes and misfortunes and struggles. Not a day goes by something doesn't happen where you think oh damn not this again not now, no matter how well off you are. And all we are saying, all week long in Charlotte, is that when that happens, we can reach out to one another, and pull one another up. 

Arms flung wide. None of this angry, frightened, when-do-I-get-mine, what-if-you-don't-hold-up-your-end, hedging, play-the-odds pettiness. None of this constant policing, and it makes me so tired, the constant policing of everybody else's lives to make sure they're not getting one cent more than we the righteous think they're owed. 

(I swear if we spent a fraction of the time we spend bitching about Our Tax Dollars paying for this, that or the other Welfare Cheat on actually ending poverty, we'd have solved that shit four times over and have money left over for National Free Ice Cream Sandwich & Kitten Petting Day.) 

None of that. Just the assurance, the mindblowing assurance that we are not a series of islands that We Built, looking suspiciously over our fences at one another. In our vision of America, I may be responsible for picking you up someday. But you will be responsible for picking me up, for knocking on my door, for giving me food when I'm hungry and care when I'm sick and telling me the only thing human beings have ever told one another, from the time we could reach out to one another through the darkness.

We are none of us alone.

Here, take my hand.

You pull me up. I'll pull you. 

A. 

When Bill Clinton Talks...

From Album4

 

...people listen.

When even Faux News (warning -- Faux News link) talks about "chrisma and eloquence"  I guess it means one hell of a speech. And while I personally thought it ran a tad long...hey, what do I know? 

Clinton's a politician...but, as I mentioned a couple of days ago in the Crack Van, that's ok...in contrast, the Redumblicans sound like sociopaths. 

More reviews and comments here, here, and here. One last thing I'll note is that while Democrats can take pride in Bill Clinton, the Rethugs have to hide their last president in the attic, lest anyone be reminded...

DNC Crack Van #2

Share the HAMS, circus animals. 

Update: Van closed. Big Dog brought the house down. Sandra Fluke told Rush to stuff it. It was gorgeous. Be back here tomorrow at 7 p.m. CST for all the festivities.

A.

Dumbass quote of the day

It comes from the dumbest non-Fox anchor ever, Wolf Blitzer:

"The first lady not hitting a home run, but probably a Grand Slam."

Uh, Wolf, a grand slam *is* a home run. You might want to skip sports analogies if you don't understand the sport. I hear that Willie Mays was the greatest QB ever...

Luke Russert, Sexist Prick

Via Balloon Juice, Luke Russert, who has a job in professional journalism: 

#Dems did a good job tonight conveying passion, empathy and inclusion. Going hard after swing women, the heart.

Empathy is for girls! Our silly little female brains just can't handle big economic questions like, "Will I have a job tomorrow if Mitt Romney is president" or "is it possible my taxes may go up and the price of gas make going to work pay less?" These are not things that concern us in any way, so we don't need to pay attention to the economy.

We're all just sitting at home, getting our nails done, watching Kathie Lee and Hoda, and thinking about OUR CHILDREN. If we have political issues at all, they're about our reproductive organs, so we can maybe hear some talk about breast cancer and abortion, but don't let's discuss money or we might get headaches. 

And by the by, the Republicans only appealed to the human brain if you assume the human brain has been completely coated in spray cheese and set in front of Walker, Texas Ranger re-runs for ninety billion years. Absolutely none of their numbers add up, their braying about the deficit is humorous at best, and their vision of government is a gladiatorial pit in which poor people kill each other until only one is left and that one gets eaten by a cheetah. 

In contrast, last night the Democrats started telling a story about community, about the way the world works when people work together, and about the ways government can facilitate that. If that's a story just for chicks, call us Vagina Nation. 

A. 

Strength is Weakness for Democrats, Always

How dare Democrats point out how Osama bin Laden is not alive? 

CHARLOTTE—Perhaps acknowledging a potential weakness this November, several Democrats have used their speeches on the first night of the Democratic National Convention to promote President Barack Obama's record on the military.

You see, by pointing out an area where Obama is strong, Democrats are really pointing out how he might be weak. It would be better if Democrats just didn't hold a convention at all, rather than put on this display of how weak they are, by talking about all the amazing shit they did. 

All of Yahoo's coverage last night was goat balls, but this was a true winner: 

CHARLOTTE—Democrats offered a not-so-subtle attack on Mitt Romney's policy shifts over the years, playing a video of Romney embracing more moderate views on issues like abortion when he was running for Senate in 1994 against the late Sen. Edward Kennedy.

The clips were featured in a "tribute" video to Kennedy aired at the Democratic National Convention and featured footage of debates between Romney and Kennedy during the 1994 race.

They used MITT ROMNEY'S OWN WORDS to attack Mitt Romney! By reminding people that Mitt Romney used to be a grown-up on many issues, before the teawads got hold of him and ate his brain. How dare those dastardly Democrats do that?! Monstrous perfidy! 

A. 

 

'Is fact-checking a trojan horse for left-wing partisans?'

Poynter's Andrew Beaujon: 

Fact-checking became a hot topic after Paul Ryan’s speech at the Republican National Convention last week. Is fact-checking a trojan horse for left-wing partisans? Is it something members of the news media should do reflexively and in-person? And who will fact-check the fact-checkers of the fact-checkers?

Fact-checking just magically "became" a hot topic. It's not that the Romney campaign, which stated it would not be run by fact-checkers, MADE fact-checking into the story, rather than Ryan's numerous incorrect statements. It couldn't be that starting a "debate" over fact-checking was in any way in the interests of the Romney campaign. 

No, it just became a story all on its own. 

But hey, I am a left-wing partisan. Maybe facts are just a Trojan horse for me to get my message out there. 

A. 

ps. Glenn Kessler's response that you can't possibly expect politicians to tell the truth which means you don't have to call them out when they lie is just PRECIOUS.

DNC Crack Van

You will be expected to put up with my shameless fangirling of Kerry, Tammy Baldwin, and NANCY SMASH, as well as my repeated instructions to Rahm to eat a bag of dicks. Have fun, behave yourselves, and hold on tight. 

Van closed. Continue discussion in comments because HOLY FUCKING SHIT MICHELLE.

Angry White Men

Sen. Lindsey Graham told us everything we need to know about the Republican Party when he made this statement during the RNC:

“We’re not generating enough angry white guys to stay in business for the long term.”

Indeed, that is your modern Republican Party in a nutshell: angry white men. I realize this is no great revelation, but I've never heard anyone in the GOP actually cop to it. You'd think there'd be some backlash from the unhinged right at being characterized this way, but let's get real: those folks don't read the Washington Post, anyway.

Still, Graham's quote explains a lot. For example: it explains why stuff coming from Republicans -- actual, real Republicans, not just crackpots ranting on street corners, but people who are members of Congress, serve in state legislatures and other "serious types" -- are sounding increasingly like extras from the cast of One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. Keeping people in a perpetual state of rage is an exercise in escalation and exaggeration.

Have you heard the latest? Apparently "Islamists" were going to open the Democratic National Convention with a prayer for Sharia Law to replace the U.S. Constitution. Everybody panic! Hey, I read it at a website with "Journalism" in the title, so it has to be true!

Anyone want to place bets on which Tennessee Republican is the first to waste everyone's time with a resolution condemning the "Democrat Party" for this nonsense? My vote goes to Rick Womick of Agenda 21 fame.

The question remains: what are they so angry about? There's a lot people could be angry about: the crap economy, the crap jobs, the failure of one institution after another, the constant, grinding difficulty of just about absolutely everything these days. And I'm sure people are angry about those things, but those things anger everyone. Plenty of Democrats and Independents are angry about bank bailouts and the buying of our elections and the futile news media and failing public schools and crap in our food. Everyone is angry at those things, but Republican anger goes deeper, because Republicans were angry before a lot of this stuff existed.

No, I still say the Angry White Men who comprise the bulk of the Republican Party are basically angry at their cultural irrelevance. They're angry their racist, homophobic, misogynist jokes aren't funny anymore. They're angry that the '60s happened, and then the '70s, and then the '90s happened, when Communism died and they no longer knew who to be angry at. They're angry they're unable to influence the culture at large, that no one even bothers to launch boycotts of their outspoken, angry musicians because when was the last time Hank Williams Jr. was relevant, anyway? The modern Republican Party has become so regional and parochial, Ohio's Republican candidate for U.S. Senate recently faked a Southern drawl at a Romney campaign event.

This is how they ended up with Clint Eastwood talking to an empty chair which, as one Nashville blogger observed, was actually a step up from the bulk of the modern Republican Party. Hell, at least Eastwood was trying to have a conversation with President Obama. The rest of the GOP simply can't be bothered (or if they do, they risk pissing off the Teanuts).

And make no mistake, the Tea Party wants anger. I'm reminded that in 2008, My Wingnut Friend™ -- an ardent Fred Thompson supporter -- told me he’d probably hold his nose and vote for John McCain but (and here he pounded his fist on the table for emphasis), “I just want someone who can kick some butt!” The idea that geriatric Fred Thompson could kick anyone's butt made me laugh.

What we're witnessing, folks, is the death of the Republican Party, I've said it before and I'll say it again. Because political power without cultural power is ephemeral. This year's RNC was proof of that, and not just the Eastwood thing. The Republican Party was in charge of this country for most of the last decade, yet only one high-ranking official from that previous administration got a high profile speaking slot at the convention? Really? George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, Alberto Gonzalez, Collin Powell, John Ashcroft -- where were they? Am I missing something?

The Republican Party is dying, metaphorically and literally. Rupert Murdoch is 81 years old. Roger Ailes is 72, and he doesn't look all that healthy. David Koch is 72; Charles Koch is 77. These are old guys -- and yes, I know Fred Thompson's mother died just last week and John McCain's is still alive and kicking. Still, no one lives forever.

So, it will be interesting to see what replaces the Republican Party in the coming decades, and even if that thing will still be called "Republican." I'm guessing not. I'm guessing the "brand" is so tarnished that whatever new thing rises from its ashes will have a wholly different packaging. But I'm not necessarily optimistic that our new opposition party will be a kinder, gentler form of conservatism -- a return to the good ol' days of reasoned discourse and such. The signs are not good in that regard. What we'll see may be more diverse, demographically, but my instincts tell me it will be more fascistic and authoritarian, disguised as "privatization" riding in on free market ponies.

Then again, I could be completely wrong. These are interesting times, and I'm a crap prognosticator. Answer cloudy, ask again later.

Let the expectations game begin

Team Obama is already lowballing debate expectations:

Raising expectations for your opponent ahead of a debate is an ancient political art, and a supremely confident Obama team almost pulled it off on Tuesday.

“Gov. Romney did about 30 debates last year, we expect him to do very well,” Obama campaign press secretary Ben LaBolt said at an ABC News/Yahoo forum here Tuesday. But his grin was so broad as he delivered the line that the audience broke out in laughter.

I hope they're not getting too cocky. I remember in 1988 that I expected Michael Dukakis to slaughter Poppy Bush in the debates because of his track record back home in the Commonwealth. It didn't happen: all anyone remembers of those debates is Bernie Shaw's "what if Kitty were raped" question. The Duke went all robotic and got his clock cleaned...

We do, however, have a pretty darn good debate prep stand-in for the Mittbot, 2004 nominee and debate champ, John Kerry. Here's Big John with Willard when the latter was his Guvnuh:

Almost Lost My Shit

Lost my shit has been a hot shit expression around NOLA of late. It's kind of an odd one when you think about it: shouldn't you want to lose shit? In any event, we've all either lost or nearly lost it in the post-Isaac mess.

There are still pockets in the city that do not have power as of this writing. The local utility, Entergy, seems not to have a press/PR operation; either that or they think we're too fucking stupid to understand a simplified version of utilityspeak. For some reason, the current CEO of Entergy New Orleans is Charles Rice who was one of C Ray Nagin's top aides. Talk about failing upward. Rice, at least, is neither under indictment nor investigation unlike his former boss whose former associates have been rolling over like loose barrels or some such shit.

The one decent thing about the post-Isaac mess is that we ever so briefly got back that community spirit that we had in 2005 and 2006. We also, however, have revisted a bit of the post-K food stench in areas where the trash remains uncollected. Yuck.

Our dirtiest job was cleaning out our flooded big ass trash can. It was secured and didn't fly away but the lid popped up and bin filled up. Included in the contents was a kitty litter liner. We had to do some bailing and used some of the liquefied Oscar-n-Della stuff as fertilizer. It was during this process that Dr. A and I both briefly lost our shit while dealing with cat shit. We bounced back rather quickly.

Life seems to be getting back to semi-normal, which is as normal as it gets in NOLA. We were even treated to the spectacle of Bitter Vitter standing behind President Obama during a presser in St John the Baptist Parish yesterday. Bi-partisan harmony has not broken out but the storm aftermath isn't a political football like it was in 2005. It helps when the FEMA director is the most qualified person in the country for the job and not Heckuva Job Brownie...

Finally, the post title evokes the wheezy old David Crosby song, Almost Cut My Hair. Crosby, of course, later lost his once leonine hair as well as his shit when we did time for being an armed, dangerous and coked out douchebag. When I'm less enervated I may even write some lyrics for this CSNY chestnut:

 

This will be, I hope, my last Isaac post. Back to our regularly scheduled programming: cat blogging, pulp fiction and mocking the Mittbot. Hmm, I wonder if can borrow a chair from Clint Eastwood?

The Romney Campaign is Making Me Nostalgic for Bob Dole

I kept bringing this up in the crack van last week: 

It is for the people of America that I stand here tonight, and by their generous leave. And as my voice echoes across darkness and desert, as it is heard over car radios on coastal roads, and as it travels above farmland and suburb, deep into the heart of cities that, from space look tonight like strings of sparkling diamonds, I can tell you that I know whose moment this is: It is yours. It is yours entirely.

And who am I, and who am I, that stands before you tonight?

I was born in Russell, Kansas, a small town in the middle of the prairie surrounded by wheat and oil wells. As my neighbors and friends from Russell, who tonight sit in the front of this hall, know well, Russell, though not the West, looks out upon the West. And like most small towns on the plains, it is a place where no one grows up without an intimate knowledge of distance.

And the first thing you learn on the prairie is the relative size of a man compared to the lay of the land. And under the immense sky where I was born and raised, a man is very small, and if he thinks otherwise, he's wrong.

I come from good people, very good people, and I'm proud of it. My father's name was Doran, my mother's name was Bina. I loved them, and there is no moment when my memory of them and my love for them does not overshadow anything I do, even this, even here.

And there is no height to which I have risen that is high enough to allow me to forget them, to allow me to forget where I came from and where I stand, and how I stand, with my feet on the ground, just a man, at the mercy of God.

And this perspective has been strengthened and solidified by a certain wisdom that I owe not to any achievement of my own, but to the gracious compensations of age. And I know that in some quarters I may not, I may be expected to run from the truth of this. But I was born in 1923, facts are better than dreams, and good presidents and good candidates don't run from the truth.

I do not need the presidency to make or refresh my soul. That false hope I will gladly leave to others, for greatness lies not in what office you hold, but in how honest you are, in how you face adversity, and in your willingness to stand fast in hard places.

Age has its advantages. Let me be the bridge to an America that only the unknowing call myth. Let me be the bridge to a time of tranquillity, faith, and confidence in action. And to those who say it was never so, that America has not been better, I say, you're wrong, and I know, because I was there. And I have seen it. And I remember.

There are whole sections later that are almost entirely bullshit, of course, but God, that's a piece of art, there. That's how you sound brave and humble at once, that's how you put yourself forward for a task you have to be almost unimaginably arrogant to even want, without that arrogance taking you over. That's how you make your voters proud, as well as angry.

A. 

Today on Tommy T's Obsession with the Freeperati - "Be of good chair" edition

Morning, everybody, and happy славный день прав работников, comrades!

Let's all suit up and get the inevitable over with.  One of the drawbacks of having a Monday morning posting slot is when something entertianing happens in the middle of the week. By the time my post hits, the entertaining event has been hammered, masticated, ridiculed, and generally done-to-death by every wag with a blog, talk show, or late-night snark fest (hence last week's bonus Obsession).

This week, everybody and his/her dog has been Eastwooding up a storm, and even some character called David Atkins over at some blog called Digby has gotten in on the freak show that is Freeperville.

Well, nobody nutpicks like your master nutpicker, so if you've not hit Peak Eastwood yet, follow me into the iso chamber for the Clint Eastwood Appreciation Thread!

Clint Eastwood Addresses The 2012 GOP Convention (VIDEO) RealClearPolitics ^ | August 30, 2012 | RealClearPolitics

Posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:27:25 PM by i88schwartz

Actor and director Clint Eastwood addresses the 2012 Republican National Convention in Tampa, Florida.

1 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:27:36 PM by i88schwartz

At first, of course, the Freeperati were all moist in the panties, superimposing memories about the salad days of Dirty Chairry over the spectacle that had Ryan squirming in his chair like a home-schooler at a sex-ed class, and Romney giggling in hysteria backstage:

To: i88schwartz

Damn that was a great speech. This guy is ALL CLASS as are most conservatives.

2 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:29:40 PM by New Perspective (Proud father of a 8 yr old son with Down Syndrome and fighting to keep him off Obama's death panels.)

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To: New Perspective

Still, anyone know if he’s given up being pro-abortion?

3 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:34:13 PM by muawiyah

Party poop.

To: i88schwartz

Yep, classy guy and that stchick (sp?) with an empty chair talking with Dear Reader was brilliant, funny and made fun of the ijit, O'Bummer.

Almost fell out of my chair when he leaned over and said: (Paraphrasing) "What? Tell Romney What?" "He can't do to himself."

Auto-fellatio?

A must see!

5 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:36:30 PM by neveralib

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To: i88schwartz

Ya gotta ask yourself one question. Are you better off today after four years of Zero, or do you think its time for a change?

Well DO ya punk?

10 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:39:40 PM by Emperor Palpatine (I need a good stiff drink. How 'bout you?)

See what I mean? For these bozos, it's always Dirty Harry, and President Obama has just "gots to know".

To: Dr. Scarpetta

Ditto! I thought Clint was great. You know those wussbags at MSDNC wouldn't dare criticize him to his face.

And FWIW, I think Mitt is giving an excellent speech...

40 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 10:01:50 PM by TheBigB (Chris Matthews would scream racism at a bowl of Cheerios.)

...and so on.

Now this is what that there-is-no-Atkins guy glossed over with "A few freepers were nervous":

To: i88schwartz

Clint was a mistake.

22 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:48:20 PM by onona (Thank you fellow Freepers, just because I can.)

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To: i88schwartz

I can see tomorrows headlines now:

“Senile, stuttering, racist old white man talks to empty chair.”

And it’s already starting. The Madcow just said his speech were the incoherent ramblings of someone with alzheimers.

Love Eastwood, but having him speak was a mistake. Sure, he got some laughs, but the media will have a field day with his performance. He will be ridiculed to no end by the likes of Maher, Letterman, Conan, and, of course, the media.

25 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:49:56 PM by chessplayer

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To: i88schwartz

Ol’ Rowdy hasn’t aged well.

28 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:51:27 PM by fwdude ( You cannot compromise with that which you must defeat.)

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To: Lib-Lickers 2

Really ~ have you read up on his positions on the critical Socon issues?

Bringing him in is a slap in face.

Do you people have any intention of winning or is this just to give it all away to your friend Obama?

30 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:52:47 PM by muawiyah

.

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To: i88schwartz

That was rather embarrassing. Clint *was* a good actor but his politics have always been a bit squishy and he just seemed to be taking up valuable speaking time. Was anyone really moved by this rambling hem-haw of a alzheimer moment?

I’d bet Sarah Palin would have energized the crowd twice as well and got off more zingers.

38 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 10:00:34 PM by OrangeHoof (Our economy won't heal until one particular black man is unemployed.)

To: Sarah Barracuda

"...the empty chair representing Obama was brilliant."

I'm pretty sure it was a deliberate tip of the hat to Jimmy Stewart's Harvey.

63 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 10:30:58 PM by Joe 6-pack (Que me amat, amet et canem meum)

Who can forget the wonderful moment when Harvey told Jimmy Stewart to go fuck himself?

To: OrangeHoof

Was anyone really moved by this rambling hem-haw of a alzheimer moment?

No, I'm not star-struck over Eastwood as some on this thread seem to be, and I thought his rambling talk was a snoozer.

70 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 10:35:18 PM by Fiji Hill (Deo Vindice!)

And this is just from the first two pages.

I guess Mr. Spoon-me-no-Atkins didn't see those posts.

Nyah!

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One more before the jump:

To: stylecouncilor

I was impressed. We don’t need a lawyer in the White House

12 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:40:06 PM by scooby321 (AMS)

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To: scooby321

You do know that Romney is a Havard Law grad, don’t you?

34 posted on Thursday, August 30, 2012 9:57:11 PM by stormer

This, of course, provokes (I swear to God) an argument over lawyers not really being lawyers just because they graduated and joined the Bar.

All that and more after the click-through!

Sunday Morning Video: Thick As A Brick

Music geeks like me have been known to obsess out in listening to our favorite artists. Rodney Crowell provided the soundtrack for my Katrina exile and this time it was Jethro Tull. I was already in the midst of that obsession so why the hell not?

Longtime reader and commenter Joejoejoe recently said that he thought that a Tull 8-track provides the soundtrack for the Crack Van. Since I missed the van and its tacky shag rug, here's a bit of live Brick featuring a classic intro by Ian Anderson. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll rock:

 

Bad Staff Work

I hate post-campaign trash-talk. I hate it even more when it starts before the campaign is over: 

The campaign had expected "a more standard endorsement," the New York Times reported, citing two anonymous aides. “Aides said Mr. Eastwood does not like teleprompters and was trusted to deliver an on-message endorsement,” the story continued. This was not the campaign’s fault, no sir.

I kept saying this in the van, but Romney had terrible logistics the entire convention. I do this in my day job and seeing other people fuck it up makes me cringe because it's so preventable. Whoever designed those giant screens should be flogged for not testing to see how the speakers would look in TV closeups. Yeah, in wide shots and probably from the floor, those screens were impressive and cool. But I was watching on C-span and when they pulled in close to show you the speakers, the backgrounds were violent colors: green, red, puke-yellow, this weird rippling beige. It looked like their folks were speaking from inside nuclear reactors. 

(And why the tits, having seen that themselves the first night, didn't somebody make sure to change that? You could reprogram those things to show something on that one little screen that wouldn't make viewers' eyeballs bleed. Or MOVE THE GODDAMN PODIUM.)

Then the Eastwood thing. The more I read over and re-watch his speech, the more I realize how bad the Romney handlers were and how badly they served a guy who was doing them a favor. I get that when Dirty Harry calls you up and says he wants to talk to you, it's intimidating. Shit, he's 82 and I'd be scared he'd kick my ass. But you do your speakers no kindnesses when you don't prep them. It is well worth having them pissed at you for a few minutes, so that they (and you) look good at showtime. 

Instead, they let him stumble (in fact helped him stumble by not asking why he wanted a chair out there), and now they're bashing him anonymously, as if they were powerless over this whole thing. As if they're the victims instead of the perps. 

This sort of shit drove me wild in 2008, when the post-campaign talk was all about how the stupid dumb bitch ruined everything for Noble John McCain, because McCain somehow was not in charge of his own campaign and could not have, for example, fired everyone involved before things got so bad. But no, it was Sarah Palin who somehow prevented John Fucking McCain, who no matter what you may think of his politics is an utter badass, from picking up a telephone and sorting this shit out. 

This drove me even wilder in 2004. I know I'm stuck on John Kerry, okay, but that man ran for president against a political machine that had chewed up and spit out everyone in its path, and he took unbelievable amounts of crap on behalf of the country he served with honor and distinction, and yeah, he screwed some stuff up. But I'm about done with the way Democrats are the first to make their losing candidates into targets and jokes. These people do a job, for us, and we act like they lost on purpose just to ruin our lives. Michael Dukakis and George McGovern would have been extraordinary presidents. Jimmy Carter maybe, if the world had gotten off his jock for ten seconds, could have figured himself out. This stuff's hard for a reason. 

But all this after-the-fact carping about who's to blame is just ass-covering, and it's unworthy of a presidential campaign. I get that people are frustrated when they aren't listened to, but being a grown-up means sucking it up and staying on the team, even if that team is arguing with an empty chair. 

A.