Politics is a Riot

Watching the conventions take place over the last two weeks was quite the experience. There were many memorable moments, not the least of which included Obama’s speech from INVESCO Field and Tina Fey’s speech from some denial-filled parallel universe where the former mayor of New York City makes fun of someone for being too cosmopolitan. NEW YORK FREAKIN’ CITY!

However, the best part about watching the conventions was all the memories it brought back. See, by some strange twist of fate and a large stroke of luck, I was able to attend the first day of the 2000 Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles.

The entire day was amazing. I saw presidents, senators, journalists, celebrities and people acting so bizarre I was convinced they were mentally ill (I later learned these people are called “delegates.”)

I saw Wolf Blitzer, who in 2000 was so bottom heavy his shadow looked more like that of a bowling pin than a human. I saw Jimmy Carter, who for some reason always looked like he had that old man crust in the corners of his mouth even when he didn’t. At one point I panicked because I thought I saw a manatee lumbering towards me in the hallway, but it just turned out to be Rob Reiner, who bears a striking real life resemblance to the noble "sea cow.”

I thought the highlight of the evening would be seeing Bill and Hillary Clinton speak, and up until the moment I left the Staples Center, it was. Hillary and all the female Democratic Senators did a little tribute to governmental girl power, which was both poignant and chilling at the exact same time. Bill, who was filmed slowly walking through the backstage area on his way to the stage with low pitched percussion hype music playing like he was Bill Goldberg on the way to the ring to defend his title, gave a stirring speech that would no doubt have shot a quiver up Chris Matthew’s ever-tingly leg.

When Bill’s speech was winding up, my father and I decided we would sneak out a few minutes early to beat the crowds. This would be a move forever known as “our first mistake.”

As we walked through the maze of television trucks and trailers, we heard the distant beat of bongo drums (which I know now to be the battle cry of the hippies) and the breaking of glass. We had known there were protests by those weird fringe hippie groups going on outside, including a free concert by professional convention protest whores Rage Against the Machine, but the police were out in force and we figured it was nothing to worry about. If only we had known that the police had just moments earlier prematurely shut down the Rage concert, angering the scalawags to the point they started throwing bottles at the police and making bonfires outside the building. If going to college taught me one thing, it was this: you can mock them, you can challenge their beliefs, and you can even put meat in their vegan burritos, but don’t you ever dare mess with a hippie’s music or you will face the wrath of God.

We walked out the main gates (a large chain link number which had been rigged up especially for the convention) and found ourselves in the middle of a large group of rabble-rousers climbing up the fence being pepper sprayed by the cops. This was not a good sign.

“Maybe we should get out of here…” I said to my father.

“Nah!” said my dad (who is the kind of guy who literally walks towards burning buildings) “Let’s hang around and see how this plays out.”

Suddenly, one of the policemen started yelling “Lockdown! Lockdown!” I didn’t find this encouraging.

Then the police started putting on gas masks. Around this time, I began to realize something was definitely very wrong. The rubber bullets and tear gas they began to fire shortly thereafter only reinforced this belief.

I ran over to the gate and begged to be let back into the convention, but apparently “Lockdown!” actually means “Lockdown!” and they weren’t letting anyone in or out, no matter how pathetically they begged. At this point I caught a glimpse of KNBC news anchors Paul Moyer and Colleen Williams standing behind the fence atop a golf cart watching the action and, while I can’t be 100% sure of this, I think I saw Paul Moyer laughing at me.

It was then that the cops on horseback came in to move the crowd from the protest area onto Olympic Blvd. The only problem with this was that there were concrete barriers all along the street that people had to jump over in order to leave the area, and the cops were pushing faster than the people could move. I heard the guy directly behind me yell out in pain and turned around to see a horse literally using its own head as a weapon (who knew they did that?!?) to beat this unfortunate dreadlocked fool to the ground.

As we approached the barriers, I discovered the reason we were having trouble getting out was that several of the protestors had decided to stand up to the cops and had formed a bit of a human blockade along the barriers. Now, usually I’m a peaceful man who avoids conflict, but I was about to be stampeded by a horse whose cranium doubled as a club (to say nothing of the policeman on the horse holding an actual club) and I wasn't about to stop moving forward. Luckily for me the link in the human chain that was directly in front of me was about six inches shorter and 100 pounds lighter than I was, allowing me to attempt my very best Patrick Willis impersonation. As I found myself sailing over the barrier with this poor fellow who smelled like cloves onto the hard ground below so I could avoid being trampled by a headbutting horse, I thought to myself about how this wasn’t exactly the way I expected my first Democratic National Convention to turn out.

Here's some neat footage of how it all went down:



Long story short, once my father and I cleared the barrier, we decided that perhaps we had overstayed our welcome and it was time to leave. We sprinted until we were well clear of the action, found a taxi and went home. With the exception of my dad taking a rubber bullet to the leg (which I’m proud to report he handled in a rather manly manner) we left the whole ordeal injury free.

As I removed my sweat stained jacket in the cab, my father apologized for saying we should hang around and wait. I told him no apology necessary. In the course of several hours I had rubbed elbows with celebrities and politicians, heard the President of the United States speak to an electrified crowd, experienced a hippie riot from the eye of the storm, tackled a complete stranger, got shot at with rubber bullets, and did a four minute mile in a suit and loafers into the heart of Downtown Los Angeles. Behind the night I lost my virginity and the first time I ever tried waffle fries, it was the greatest night of my entire life.

"The Palin"

(In tribute to Poe's "The Raven," my thoughts on McCain's VP selection...)

Once upon a convention night dreary, while I watched TV news punditry weak and weary,

Switching between CNN, MSNBC and channels 2, 7 and 4,

As John King did electoral vote mapping, suddenly there came a tapping

As of someone violently sapping, sapping up all McCain’s credibility and kicking his chances out the door.

“Tis a swerve for Romney or Pawlenty," thought I—but soon my jaw was on the floor

As before I knew it there I was watching her basically say “I am woman, hear me roar!”

Ah, I haven’t the foggiest why he would do this at the end of August,

When Gallup Daily Polling has shown him somewhat closer to Obama than before.

But to Dayton had flown that plane from Alaska, and, seriously, let me ask ya:

What were the chances it wasn’t Sarah Palin since the plane stopped in Arizona the night before?

I was intrigued, as the announcement of Romney or Pawlenty would have been a major snore

But now this moment will live on in history for evermore.

With the Republican crowd all in a rage, up she bounded onto the stage,

And spoke did she with all the charisma of a hung over Al Gore.

The obligatory Hillary obeisance made she, (her previous classification of Hillary as a whiner did not say she)

In an attempt to appeal to women who’s IQ is negative sixty-four.

Having a woman on the ticket is great but American women must want more

Like a president who believes in women's rights and will finally say “enough!” when it comes to the Iraqi war.

Even if it takes a while, people will realize McCain missed the mark on this pick by a mile

As even Bill Kristol will soon see it takes more than being “hyper-American” and having a friendly rapport.

Maybe Mac could have made history in the U.S.A. had he picked the Senator from Texas or the CEO from E-bay

And not a woman who is being investigated for ethic violations that the voters won’t ignore.

Also, she advocates no gun control and teaching intelligent design which only appeals to the Conservative hardcore,

And, let’s face it, George W. Bush pretty much burnt down that store.

Women won’t simply vote for one of their own with the kind of beliefs that she condones

And the irony of electing a woman being backwards progress for women’s rights is something the satirists should explore.

Americans eat beef, not moose, and the fact Hillary would actually be good for the job is what gave juice

To those 18 million voters who begat a movement that will take its rightful place amongst political lore.

But trying to get women to vote for a ticket that is pro-life and anti-equal pay all the way down to its core?

Most women would say “Nevermore.”

Quote of the Day

"Have you ever observed that we pay much more attention to a wise passage when it is quoted than when we read it in the original author?"

--Philip Gilbert Hamerton

Yet Another Reason to Hate the News Media

The Washington Post says:

“Obama's speech was more substance than style; more specifics than rhetorical flourish.”

Yet the AP says:

“Instead of dwelling on specifics, he laced the crowning speech of his long campaign with the type of rhetorical flourishes that Republicans mock.”

Ayn Rand one wrote “Contradictions do not exist. Whenever you think you are facing a contradiction, check your premises. You will find that one of them is wrong.”

So who is wrong? Well, it's not my place to say. (*Cough* AP *Cough*)

Run With Me (McCain Edition)

Random musings on the leading contenders to be “two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun's” #2:

*Former Governor Mitt Romney (Massachusetts): He used to be prochoice; now he’s prolife. He used to be for gun control; now he’s against it. He used to like Miller Light because of its great taste; now he likes it because it’s less filling. I see Mitt as the Mormon John Kerry, with his actual achievements being overshadowed by his flip-flopping, religion and the fact he’s obviously just kind of a douche bag. Note to Mitt: George Hamilton wants his tan back.

*Governor Tim Pawlenty (Minnesota): If victorious, he’d be the first man with a mullet to be elected into the executive branch since George Washington. Honestly, I know nothing about this man’s policies or character. All I know is he has a mullet and that’s all I need to know.

*Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison (Texas): It could be extremely shrewd for Mac to pick a woman in hopes of luring disenchanted Hillary supporters into his camp. However, with a personality that makes Tim Pawlenty look like Sam Kinison and a face that looks like it could literally shred cheese, she may be better in principle than practice.

*Senator Joe Lieberman (Connecticut): As my late great grandmother would say about this fellow member of the tribe: This meshuginah should start being a mensch instead of a shmendrik. He’s all farblondzhet to the point it makes me farklempt! Oy!

*Former Governor Tom Ridge (Pennsylvania): The man responsible for the most useless invention since the Chia Pet, as he gave America the famed color coded terror alert system. Keeping that spirit alive, I rate Tom Ridge’s chances at “periwinkle.” (Yeah, I don’t know what that means either…)

Under the Radar

WWE has a voter registration program called “SmackDown Your Vote!” As a part of the program, they sent wrestlers Dave Batista and Candice Michelle to the Democratic National Convention. It was a nice gesture, but there was one glaring problem: Batista and Candice, the two whose job it was to stress to young people the importance of political involvement and voting, were not registered to vote.

The duo were interviewed today by everyone’s favorite reminder of how plastic surgery can be a godsend, the “lovely” Greta Van Susteren, and Candice said “David and I, we actually went to Rock your Vote today, and we both registered.” So not only were the two main representatives of the WWE’s youth-oriented voter registration program not registered to vote, but they had to go to another youth-oriented voter registration program in order to actually register.

If any billion dollar company other than the WWE had set up a program like this they would be the laughingstock of the business world. But it’s World Wrestling Entertainment, and who really pays any attention to World Wrestling Entertainment?

World Wrestling Entertainment has the benefit of being considered such a joke of a company that they can fly under the radar in a way that allows them to get away with things that no other publicly traded company possibly could. Let's face it: any company that can get away with their Champion, Triple H (who wears iron crosses on his tights and proclaims himself the “King of Kings” in what must be an effort to equally offend both Jews and Christians) performing a simulated act of necrophilia on his opponent’s dead sister on national primetime television without a peep from the media is operating in a world so insulated they might as well be living on that speck of dust with the Whos.

It’s amazing what kind of stupidity you can get away with when no one is paying attention. Just ask Congress. (Zing!)

What Premise?

Sometimes I am truly amazed at how much I love television shows that are so deeply flawed they have actually developed plot formulas that go against the entire premise of the show.

If Dr. House is such a brilliant medical practitioner, how come he has never gotten a diagnosis correct the first time around? If MacGyver was really a great secret agent, how come he never realized he’d be much more effective if he carried around actual tools and weapons instead of duct tape and paper clips? If the castaways had really wanted to escape the island, why didn’t they just smash Gilligan over the head with a coconut to prevent him from bungling their many escape plans?

Despite the glaring incongruities, these are some of my favorite television shows. Not only do I want to see it, but I’ll watch with a mindless, giddy devotion equal to that of a preteen to a Jonas Brother or a MSNBC reporter to Barack Obama.

Perhaps this explains why I enjoyed the announcement of Senator Joe Biden as the Democratic VP nominee so much.

The Obama campaign is built on the premise that he is a different kind of politician—one who is all about change and ending political bickering in Washington. So the plot goes against the premise when Barack chooses a man who has been in the Senate since the Nixon Era and who is hailed as a “bare knuckle brawler” who will be ready to viciously attack the Republicans. Hillary even fits the campaign’s premise better, since a woman in the #2 spot would surely be change and there would be no better sign of an intention to end squabbling in Washington than by doing it in one’s own party. Biden may be one of the greatest public servants of all time, but he’s obviously been picked to plug holes (which is appropriate, since he appears as though he’s had much experience, but not much success, with plugs) and not as part of the greater vision of change that Obama's foundation of success was built on.

The Obama campaign is betting they can get away with what television has been doing for years, and that’s blind the viewer to the obvious paradoxes of the moment by making that moment spectacular. The speech he gave on Saturday was pitch perfect and the rollout was handled so flawlessly they had professional news anchors compulsively checking their empty inboxes like children endlessly amused by a game of peek-a-boo. Just like when my favorite television shows do it, the contradiction in provisos was muted by the power and entertainment of the moment and most seemed to lap up every moment of the plot turn.

Don't get me wrong: I absolutely love Joe Biden to the point of having a bit of a purely heterosexual man-crush on him. However, Biden is not a natural part of the Obama Show. By picking Biden, Obama is MacGyver showing up to the fight with paper clips instead of a handgun. It goes against the premise that he is all about change in the same way MacGyver goes against the premise of being the world's greatest secret agent. However, just like MacGyver, Obama may very well be good enough to be able to get the job done his own unique way, even though it doesn’t perfectly line up with the original idea that began it all.

(For the best of Biden from the debates, click here, here, here and here.)

You Say Barack...

And apparently I say “Barrack.”

I’ve just realized that my spell check doesn’t have the name “Barack” programmed into it. As a result, every post on this page where I mention Senator Obama’s first name refers to him as a building where soldiers are lodged. Luckily to the English and Australians, it just looked like I was rooting for Obama. (That’s a bit of soccer humor, aka football humour, aka a joke that should not have been made.)

Since it only took me about 19 months before I realized I’ve been incorrectly correcting myself, never let it be said that I’m not quick as a hiccup to pick up on these kinds of things. Anyway, I’ve gone back and fixed the error in my previous posts. Let us never speak of it again.

Obama's Faith

A week ago, Obama was leading McCain in RealClearPolitics.com’s “No Toss Up States” Electoral College Count 322 to 216. Today, after the release of many new polls over the last week, McCain is now in the lead, 274 to 264. This is not a good sign.

Last weekend at Saddleback, the great young orator Obama was thoroughly outspoken by the older straight-talking underdog. Like Muhammad Ali showing ring rust in the “Fight of the Century” with Joe Frazier, the once seemingly invincible Obama seems to have suffered his first solid professional career loss. This is not a good sign.

Then there is Obama's most serious problem: his own backyard. Polls show that upwards of 25% of HRC supporters haven’t coalesced around the nominee like all the Democratic strategists hoped they would. The convention next week has every possibility of turning the media’s attention back to the Clinton-Obama smackdown and damaging Obama’s image even further. Some are beginning to wonder how Obama can continue to cast himself as a unifier when he can’t even unify his own party. These are not good signs.

For Obama supporters such as myself, now seems to be the time to panic. However, Obama and his peeps aren’t panicking. Obama and his peeps have faith.

Why? Where does this faith come from? Is it blind? Do they believe they can just keep doing what they’re doing and they’ll ultimately prevail? Do they really have so much confidence in a strategy that thus far hasn’t gained Obama any support in the national polls since June?

Or do they have a game-changing ace up their sleeve? Not an ace in the hole, but perhaps an ace in a pantsuit?

Just last week I would have thought it to be impossible and unnecessary, but now it truly appears that it would be a massive mistake for Obama to pick anyone other than Hillary Clinton as his running mate.

JFK had to bite the bullet with LBJ and BHO should do the same with HRC. The warning signs were there in the primaries that a certain segment of the population just prefers Hillary to Barack and those signs are still apparent today. Since the two split the vote, isn’t splitting the ticket the smart thing to do instead of just telling 18 million Democratic voters “you’re gal lost but you have to vote with us anyway because you’re Democrats” and having faith they are going to listen, especially when all the signs are there hinting that they’re not going to?

Obama should heed the signs instead of just going off faith that things will work themselves out without any major action on his part. Otherwise, he could very well end up like the man who lived by the river.

*** *** *** *** ***

Aaron Sorkin once said “Good writers borrow from other writers. Great writers steal from them outright.” He should know, since he stole that quote from Mark Twain. In that spirit…

From West Wing Season 1, Episode 14:

"You know, you remind me of the man that lived by the river. He heard a radio report that the river was going to rush up and flood the town. And that all the residents should evacuate their homes. But the man said, 'I'm religious. I pray. God loves me. God will save me.'

The waters rose up. A guy in a row boat came along and he shouted, 'Hey, hey you! You in there. The town is flooding. Let me take you to safety.' But the man shouted back, 'I'm religious. I pray. God loves me. God will save me.'

A helicopter was hovering overhead. And a guy with a megaphone shouted, 'Hey you, you down there. The town is flooding. Let me drop this ladder and I'll take you to safety.' But the man shouted back that he was religious, that he prayed, that God loved him and that God will take him to safety.

Well... the man drowned. And standing at the gates of St. Peter, he demanded an audience with God. 'Lord,' he said, 'I'm a religious man, I pray. I thought you loved me. Why did this happen?

God said, 'I sent you a radio report, a helicopter, and a guy in a rowboat. What the hell are you doing here?'"

Obama’s been sent slipping polls numbers, a surprisingly strong opponent, a divided party and a convention that could be a media disaster. God is the voters, and if Barack doesn’t take advantage of the signs the voters send his way (i.e. a large group of an important demographic demanding the presence of Hillary) then he truly is operating off of blind faith. If he takes action and picks HRC, he can keep his head above water. However, if he goes off of faith that he’ll be able to weather the storm without any assistance from the person who got more than 49% of the primary vote, I fear us Obama supporters may all be standing around on November 4th in the loser’s circle asking each other “What the hell are we doing here?”

Yet Another Reason to Hate the News Media

Today NATO reported Russia is not honoring the terms of the ceasefire with Georgia, a bomb killed at least 23 people in a hospital in Pakistan, Tropical Storm Fay hit Florida, a famous television actress announced she had a double mastectomy, and fighting continued to flare up in Afghanistan (not to mention we are in the midst of a Presidential election, a war in Iraq and the most politically fascinating Olympics since 1936.)

So what is the current main headline on CNN.com?

“’Bigfoot’ actually a rubber suit, enthusiast says.”

Really?!?

Thanks for clearing that up, CNN. *SIGH*

The Integrity of the BACONATOR

The BACONATOR is a sandwich from Wendy’s which consists of a half pound of hamburger patties, two slices of cheese, six strips of bacon, ketchup, and mayonnaise. Personally, I’m a little disappointed they didn’t just keep running with the concept and throw some onion rings, cotton candy and a couple dozen doughnuts on there and serve it up with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a hygienically suspect prostitute on the side. The slogan: “The meal for people who just don’t care anymore!”

I’ve avoided fast food restaurants ever since I became majorly rotund in high school and had to lose 80 pounds of fun-fat just so I would no longer resemble the Michelin Man or appear as though I was retaining water. (I was seriously chubby—we’re talking double chin, elbow cleavage, man-pregnant style chubby.) The last new fast food sandwich I remember being introduced was Jack in the Box’s Outlaw Burger, which I was actually so excited about I still remember the burger’s theme song to this day…

“He was giant of a man, and a friend to none.
When he rode into town he blocked out the sun.
He said ‘I’m hungry, Jack! I need a change of pace!
Make it big! Make it juicy! Wipe that smile off your face!’
Outlaw Burger!
I take a quarter pound patty, onion rings, melted cheese, big
strips of bacon and BBQ sauce—it brought him to his knees.
He cried ‘I gotta have one Jack!’ I said ‘You better say please!’
Outlaw Burger!”

That kind of sheds some light on how I got to be festively plump, doesn’t it? Moving on…

Having been out of the fast food loop for so long, I was fascinated when an advertisement for the BACONATOR appeared as I was listening to Jimmy Buffett radio at Pandora.com. The ad asked me if I wanted to “baconate” the webpage I was viewing, and c’mon, who could possibly resist an offer like that? So I baconated the webpage and the white background disappeared and was replaced by an image of row after row of crispy bacon… and that was it. It was 10 wasted seconds of my life I’ll never get back.

Regardless, I decided I wanted to learn more about the BACONATOR, if only to revisit the fast food fat boy culture I had left behind. I was hoping to be able to find a least a tidbit of information here and there on Wendy’s website, but what I got was an embarrassment of riches when I learned that the BACONATOR has its own Wikipedia page. (Seriously, that has got to be exactly what Jimmy Wales had in mind!)

If I thought I was impressed/disturbed that the BACONATOR has its own Wikipedia page, I was blown away when I viewed the history of the page. Numerous people had actually taken the time to make contributions to the page, from posting the nutritional information to the guy who signed on to post that the spicy BACONATOR is no longer being sold in Canada. This level of freaky dedication to fast food not only borders on the obsessive, but makes me think I should purchase stock in the company that makes adjustable gastric bands.

I even stumbled upon a guy who wrote several paragraphs about the BACONATOR's role in Asian culture only for another user to re-edit the page and remove this information because the reference provided was fake. I couldn’t believe it, but people are actually trying to vandalize the page to the point someone took the time to make up fake information about the BACONATOR (a luxury usually only reserved for ex-girlfriends and Barack Obama.)

Even more shocking to me than the vandals are those who are protecting the integrity of the BACONATOR’S Wikipedia page! Someone actually took the time to research the history of the BACONATOR in Asia to make sure the information provided on the webpage was correct. I really can't tell if that’s commendable or just a silent cry for help. (I keep imaging JFK in old black and white footage saying "The people have a right to know the truth about the BACONATOR!") One thing I do know: I'll be sleeping just a bit more soundly tonight knowing that the BACONATOR page is being well looked after.

As I was reading all this, a chill went down my spine, since I realized the major bullet I had dodged by changing my lifestyle, as I was destined to become one of these people who spent their free time contributing to online encyclopedia articles about specialty fast food items. Instead, I became someone who spends their free time writing about the people who spend their free time contributing to online encyclopedia articles about specialty fast food items. Close call!

John McLaughlin is a Crazy Old Man II

From the August 16th, 2008 broadcast of the McLaughlin Group, hosted by everyone’s favorite doctor of philosophy, John McLaughlin:

As Monica Crowley discusses the role of the European Union in the world, McLaughlin jumps in with “They’re doing a good job in Darfur and Kenya and Zimbabwe, are they not?”

Monica Crowley: “Come on Jon, you cannot be serious!”

Clarence Page: “You’re being facetious here, aren’t you John?”

Pat Buchanan just laughs.

The Group’s mocking of McLaughlin has obviously gone right over his head. “Isn’t that what they’re called now?” he asks.

It truly is the smartest show on television.

Run With Me (Obama Edition)

Random musings on the leading contenders to be “The One’s” #2:

*Senator Joe Biden (Delaware): My personal favorite. A man with so much experience it oozes out his pores (which may explain the condition of his hair) and a bulldoggish demeanor which makes him the perfect guy to respond to and launch attacks. Also, how can you not love a guy who, when asked during a primary debate what his favorite thing was about Dennis Kucinich, answered “his wife”?

*Senator Evan Bayh (Indiana): A man so neutral and inoffensive, it’s the equivalent of adding a beige, mayonnaise-flavored smudge to the ticket. Liberal bloggers hate him, but that’s usually a good sign in terms of electability. He’s the guy conventional wisdom says to pick, but just ask John Kerry how picking the conventional wisdom #2 worked out for him.

*Governor Kathleen Sebelius (Kansas): Because nothing rolls off the tongue more naturally than “Obama/Sebelius 2008.” As a lifelong mama’s boy I like the idea of a woman as VP, but it’s totally unrealistic to expect to shatter two glass ceilings in a single election.

*Senator John Kerry (Massachusetts): I love the pairing if for no other reason than it offers the remote possibility of seeing the first ever President/VP joint wind surfing trip and the even more remote possibility of Michelle Obama and Teresa Heinz Kerry starting their own “The View” type talk show.

*Governor Tim Kaine (Virginia): …………………… I’m sorry, I drifted off there for a moment…

*Senator Chris Dodd (Connecticut): I’ve read that Obama has only heard good things about Dodd and tells people he is looking forward to one day finally meeting him in person.

*Senator Hillary Clinton (New York): Moses supposes his toeses are roses, but Moses supposes erroneously.

My Completely Unofficial, Ill-advised, Able to Change at Any Given Moment on a Whim Electoral College Results Prediction (Part 1 of N/A)

Barack Obama – 275

John McCain – 263


In a moment of acute pessimism, I came to the conclusion that white working class Joe Sixpacks are never going to vote for the Big O. Never. Not even if he picked Johnnie Appleseed, Tom Landry, or Al Bundy from “Married With Children” as his running mate. Joe Sixpacks have already decided that Barack is unpatriotic, elitist, Muslim, eats babies and just may accept Indonesia into the Union as the 51st state.

That means no Indiana and no Ohio. Assuming Big Mac picks everyone’s favorite leathery local weatherman lookalike Mitt Romney as his running mate, I think his pop’s roots as a former Governor combined with Detroit (or DetRIOT as it should more appropriately be spelled) coming off of a bad experience with an African American Democratic elected official will be just enough to push Michigan into the darkside red.

So how does the Big O do it without Michigan and Ohio? He does what a man who has ordered a salad for dinner does—he picks up the other guy’s scraps.

McCain may have the white working class, but he’s not going to be able to eat up all the states that George W. was able to devour in 2004. His ground game isn’t well-organized enough, he doesn’t appeal enough to the evangelicals who elected W in the first place, and he’s 112 years old. Barack better bring a doggie bag, because there are going to be a whole lot of scraps to pick up. Let’s face it: old people are messy when they eat!

Give Obama all the states John Kerry won in 2004 except for Michigan and you have 235 electoral votes. Throw in Iowa and New Mexico, which Gore won in 2000 and most polls have Obama leading by very comfortable margins. While Obama is leading much less comfortably in Colorado and Virginia, he’s still ahead for the most part, and when you look at both states’ recent trend of electing a Democrat into any available office they can find from Senator to dog catcher, they seem to be ready to come out of the GOP closet to their parents as big, swishy liberal states.

Believe it or not, this gives Obama 269 electoral votes—exactly half of the Electoral College. While it may not be enough to give him the official win, it’ll be enough to make him the 44th President of the United States of America, as a tie would take the vote to the certainly Democratic 111th Congress. However, that probably won’t be necessary, as if the Big O was picking up the Big Mac’s scraps before, now it’s time for him to pick up his crumbs.

Montana, North Dakota and Alaska are all states that only have three electoral votes (the fewest a state can technically have) yet they are dramatically overrepresented. Barack is looking competitive in polls in all these states and their populations are so small that superior voter mobilization at the grassroots level by the Obama camp could make all the difference. I’m betting The One can pick up two out of the three, giving me my magic number of 275.

So please, try to look surprised on election day when all this unfolds exactly as I’ve foretold and secures my place in the history books as the 21st century Nostradamus (or at least the 21st century Miss Cleo.)

Remember, this is only an exhibition. This is not a competition. Please, no wagering.

Jack Handy's Words of Wisdom

“I hope if dogs take over the world, and they choose a king, they don't just go by size, because I bet there are some Chihuahuas with some good ideas.”

Do Those Georgians Look a Little TOO Tan to You?

I just finished watching Georgia defeat Russia in Women’s Beach Volleyball on MSNBC’s late night Olympic coverage. It was an absolutely thrilling game, as Russia trounced Georgia 21-10 the first set, only for Georgia to come back to steal the second set 22-20 before ultimately winning the third set and the entire game.

I’ve been looking forward to this since the Olympics began. My obsession over television has damaged my thinking process to the point where I seek interesting dramatic narratives that could provide memorable TV moments from real life tragedies, so once I noticed the timing of the Russian/Georgian conflict matched up with the Olympics, I ultimately envisioned that timeless moment that was bound to take place if Georgia could pick up a W over the Russians.

Well not only did the Georgians win, but they did so in spectacular fashion. Russia versus Georgia at the Olympics with the Georgians coming from behind to defeat the Russians—what a moment!

Except… it really wasn’t.

In the grand spirit of the 2004 Greek Baseball Team (which I believe actually had more players whose first language was English on it than the team fielded by the Americans) the Georgians were not actually Georgians at all but Brazilians.

A quick Google reveals that not only have the “Georgians” only enjoyed their dual citizenship status for two years, but they’ve only actually been to the country twice. Twice! If standards are really this low, I could be well on my way to representing France AND Mexico!

So much for my timeless television moment! The moment was supposed to be so great because it was a hero triumphing over their arch nemesis, in the vein of Batman defeating the Joker. Instead Batman got some Brazilians to fight for him and didn’t even bother to move them into the freaking Bat Cave! At least I can take comfort in the following: If Russia ever invades Brazil, the moment may regain a bit of its magic.

Take It Easy on China

There are a lot of reasons to be down on China. They have an abysmal human rights record. They totally screwed over Tibet. Their food leaves you hungry again in an hour.

However, the presentation and handling of the Olympic Games is not one of these reasons—in fact, the Chinese should be congratulated for putting on the most entertaining Olympic Opening Ceremony of all time. Yet numerous articles are appearing on my radar, directing “gotcha!” after “gotcha!” at the Chinese over the truly remarkable show:

*The firework footprints across Beijing leading to the Olympic Stadium were not real, but CGI. SCANDAL!

*The cute little China girl who sang a song didn’t actually sing at all. OUTRAGEOUS!

*China directed all their performers to smile at all times, even if they weren’t feeling totally happy at that moment. THAT’S IT, I WANT MY MONEY BACK!

Let’s start with the famed firework footprints, perhaps the worst source of media outrage since Don Imus used the word “nappy.” As I was watching the footprints at home on NBC, I knew they were computer generated.

How did I know? Am I psychic? Am I a pyrotechnic expert who can see even the tiniest flaw in firework detail? Do I have a man on the inside who gave me a heads-up warning? No (but man, wouldn’t it be sweet if the answer to any of those was yes?)

The reason I knew the fireworks were fake was the commentators said, in plain English, that the fireworks were fake. They described it as a cinematic element, and all one had to do was look closely to notice that the footprints were indeed digitally crafted fakes.

So what happens when China uses fake footprints that they have admitted are fakes before the show even airs? Outrage!

Forget the fact that the fireworks outside the stadium were there for real (as reported here and shown here) and only replaced with fake ones on television due to fear of not being able to properly capture the display on film. Forget the fact that we were told from the get-go that these were computer images. Forget the fact that nowhere in Olympic, television, or fireworks tradition does it state that it is taboo to use CGI. The Western media jumped on this sucker, using it as just another demonstration on how controlling and untrustworthy those sneaky Chinese are.

Maybe it’s because I’m from the computer generation, but using computer graphics (especially when you tell the world that they are computer graphics) doesn’t seem like that punishable of a sin to me, regardless of what the graphics were meant to represent. If China had inserted a cartoon into the ceremony in the same way Hollywood does with its animated characters at the Academy Awards, would the English speakers still be outraged by this trickery and yell “Witch! Witch!”?

It bothers me when the Western media looks this stupid, because in the global community the reputation for stupidity translates to the people the media represents. I just know that right now there is a Chinese citizen reading an article with the “gotcha!” approach over the footprints, laughing to himself. I wonder if he is wondering if these stupid Americans and Brits realize that when the name of the swimmer and their country appears on their lane of the pool in Olympic swimming contests that it is not being projected there for real but is, *GASP*, a computer graphic! And to make it even worse, we were never even told specifically that the world record line was a graphic—how dare the Chinese make it appear as though they have the power to project a solid moving line that humans can somehow transport through across the pool? They’re trying to pull one over on us!

The fake singing girl is a different issue, and while less defendable than the footprints, we are still dealing with a major overreaction. First, it’s important to note that the Chinese outed themselves on this one, and would never have been caught if the director didn’t just freely admit it was lip-synched by someone else. We live in a culture where I assume every performance is lip-synched (remember Ashley Simpson’s weird ho-down on SNL?) and I will continue to assume this until Britney Spears sings “Ave Maria” a cappella and her voice sounds EXACTLY like it usually does when she sings. Numerous American singers have their voices tweaked and modified by the magic of computer technology, so for us to have a holier-than-thou take on the issue is a little bit ridiculous.

China did indeed pull a bit of a Milli Vanilli, but it was in the context of a unique show. Had this been a concert and had the Chinese then went on to market the fake singer and sell CDs with her name on them than yes, I’d be outraged too. However, this was a performance, and not all the cards have to be put on the table before you do a show. Audrey Hepburn didn’t sing in My Fair Lady because it was a performance, and nowhere do I remember being specifically warned that the voice that belonged to the lovely Eliza Doolittle was actually coming out of someone who was obviously less lovely, otherwise she’d be cast in the lead. This is just what people do, and to hold the Chinese to a higher standard than we hold ourselves is laughable, not to mention freakishly hypocritical.

So blame the Chinese for all the numerous things they should be held accountable for, but lay off the Olympics. The Chinese are serving as wonderful hosts, and just because you don’t like the way your host keeps their house doesn’t give you the right to spit on their floor, especially after they’ve served you a delicious meal that was the amazing Opening Ceremony. The only problem is I think I’m going to be hungry again in about an hour…

Ginormous…

Is actually a word and has been for over a year!?! At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, I don’t want to live in a world where ginormous is an actual accepted word and believe that this is indeed one of the seven signs of the apocalypse… but other than that I’m totally cool with it. Ginormously cool.

The Great Style Divide

I’m not much of a fan of the Ellen DeGeneres Show (as if I would actually admit to this if I was) but I have seen enough to know rule #1 of being Ellen’s guest: to show how relaxed and fun loving you are, you have to dance! Not just dance, but bust a move, baby!

Seriously, with the exception of Kevin Bacon and Patrick Swayze, how often do we get to see celebrities dance? This is an awesome concept that Ellen should receive infinite kudos for brining into the mainstream. My only regret is that it wasn’t Oprah who invented this concept, as I would be endlessly amused watching her shake her literally-and-metaphorically gigantic moneymaker.

Observe the following two clips of Barack Obama and Chris Matthews busting a move with Ellen. One must marvel at not only the huge divide in dancing ability and style that only reinforces every racial stereotype involving rhythm I’ve ever heard, but also at how these two have communicated (through dance, mind you! DANCE!) why one’s job is to lead and the other’s job is to talk about the guy who leads. Now if only we could have a presidential debate that took place via interpretive dance…

(By the way, don't you just love how Matthews totally copped a feel on Ellen before just kind of throwing her onto the chair? That Chris Matthews—pure class all the way. HAH!)

John McLaughlin is a Crazy Old Man

From the June 6th, 2008 broadcast of the McLaughlin Group, hosted by everyone’s favorite Jesuit Nixon Speechwriter, John McLaughlin:

As Eleanor Clift discusses Obama’s race, McLaughlin jumps in with “You make it sound as though this is the first time we've had a black president.”

The Group nervously laughs.

“Warren G. Harding was a Negro!” proclaims McLaughlin. (Well, at least if William Estabrook Chancellor was correct…)

“Well, we had a black president on television,” responds the obviously perplexed Newsweek editor.

It truly is the smartest show on television.

Politics & Pro-Rasslin'

With so many political pundits and talking heads analyzing this year’s presidential race, it is only natural that comparisons to past contests are made. The talking heads enjoy spending a copious amount of time and energy trying to see into the future to determine how it best reflects the past:

“The Democrats are making the same mistake they made in ‘04. They’ve nominated a flip-flopping liberal who is too foreign looking for the meat & potatoes crowd.”

“Obama will be just like Reagan in ’80, holding steady in the polls until he’s finally able to close the deal and then surge strong in the final stretch.”

“It’s 1960 all over again! Just wait for those debates!”

“McCain will not only be like C.C. Pinckney, but they were also close, personal friends!” (Okay, I made that last one up, but there’s nothing like 1800’s presidential election humor to bring down the house!)

Oddly enough however, I am yet to hear any so-called expert compare the Obama/McCain smackdown to the one contest it is truly destined to best resemble: Hulk Hogan versus The Rock.

For those of you who have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about, let me set the scene: It’s March 17th, 2002 and 68,000 professional wrestling (which I will from now on spell “rasslin’” to best capture its fan’s usual pronunciation) enthusiasts have packed the Toronto SkyDome to see the biggest rasslin’ star of the 1980’s and 90’s, Hulk Hogan, go one-on-one against Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.

The Rock is no normal opponent. He is a young, attractive, charismatic, half-African American rock star who burst onto the rasslin’ scene to go from an unknown Canadian Football League player to the World Heavyweight Champion in a little less than two years. (Really, just replace “Canadian Football League player” with “Illinois state Senator” and “World Heavyweight Champion” with “real Senator,” and you have an oddly familiar biography.) The Rock is pure gold on the microphone, holding crowds of tens of thousands in the palm of his hand in a way that makes him truly worthy of the self-proclaimed title “the most electrifying superstar in sports entertainment history.”

Hulk Hogan was once considered a great talker—perhaps the best—but he is nowhere in the Rock’s league. Hulk is starting to get up there in age, and while he is by no means old by normal human standards, he is ancient to be competing in the squared circle of the somewhat homoerotic soap opera known as the WWE. The Hogan of 8-10 years ago could have given the Rock a real run for his money, but all the rasslin “experts” know that the timing is just not right for this man to win one last big contest as age has not only made him old (as it tends to do) but has changed him as well. No longer does he wear his trademark red and yellow outfit, but has changed to black and white and added “Hollywood” in front of his name in an obviously desperate attempt to make him more in step with today’s youth culture, which ends up pleasing no one and leading to conversations about how much people miss the “old” Hulk Hogan.

In case you haven’t figured it out yet from all the age talk, Hulk Hogan is John McCain, and the red and yellow of his once larger-than-life Maverick stature have been replaced by the black and white of the typical George W. style Republican Party line.

Everyone knows that barring a freak lightening strike (or a sudden change in the rasslin’ script) that the wily veteran has no chance to defeat his young, fresh-faced opponent, but people still get excited at the idea of the matchup. It’s a changing of the guard and everyone wants to see the ubber-popular Rock officially get passed the torch it is widely felt he so rightfully deserves. No one is counting Hogan out, but everyone knows it is the Rock’s rasslin’ match to lose.

The similarities between the two narratives are downright freaky. Politics and pro-rasslin’ have always had much in common, from the aspect of larger than life characters throwing it down against each other in an one-on-one to the use of dirty tricks that no one sees in any other walk of life. The rules of these games are supposed to be exploited to the point where if you’re not playing dirty, you’re not trying. John McCain’s Paris Hilton ad was nothing more than a good steel folding chair shot to the back of the head, which Obama will no doubt respond to by throwing a piece of flash paper at his opponent’s eyes to blind him before he unleashes the dreaded “Elbow of Change” (or at least releases another McBush commercial.) However, with the exception of the spandex and steroids, politics is pro-rasslin’, just without a script and no holds barred.

Perhaps no one notices these similarities more than the two candidates themselves. In April 2008, when Obama and McCain (along with Hillary “H-Rod” Clinton) sent taped segments to the top rasslin’ show, WWE Monday Night RAW, can you guess who McCain did an impression of? Oh yes, it was Hulk Hogan, complete with McCain giving a shout out to the McCainiacs (a takeoff of Hogan’s “Hulkamaniac” followers.) Obama was much calmer and more presidential in his segment, but of course ended with a slight take on the Rock’s catchphrase: “Do you smell what Barack is cooking?” (Later that night, actors dressed as Obama and Hillary would go one-on-one in a rasslin’ match—seriously, I can’t make this stuff up—and the actor playing Obama may have dressed like the Senator from Illinois, but his behavior was all Rock. Check out the video at the end!)

So if McCain-Obama 2008 really is following the same path of Hogan-Rock 2002, how will it all end? Back to the SkyDome:

Although Hulk fights the good fight, and even throws a few desperate dirty tricks into his usual repertoire of fake punches and kicks, he is ultimately no match for the Rock. Sure, he put up a better fight than anyone expected, but the end result is still the same, with the Rock getting the win, fair and square, in the center of the ring. The Rock stands tall in victory, symbolizing a new era has begun. The defeated Hogan returns to the back, wondering why he didn’t just stick with his red and yellow…