I'm Starting to Root for Palin

It has to be one of the signs of the apocalypse, but I am actually starting to root for poor Sarah Palin. Katie Couric basically asked her to name a magazine or a newspaper and Palin drew yet another blank. Bless her heart.

Sins of My Father (Part Two) - The Wonder Year

The first memory I have of my father is of him traveling for work. I’m not sure how often he traveled, but it felt like a lot. It may have been just a couple times, but I missed him, that I remember.

On one trip he promised to bring me a present when he returned. I recall not seeing him until the morning after he got home from wherever he was. He woke me up as if it was a mini-Christmas morning. He brought me what was a ten-inch John Wayne action figure. It was hard plastic and had few moveable parts. His head moved up and down, but not side to side. The arms moved at the shoulders but not at the elbow. He had brown hat and was dressed in blue with a removable vest and holster.

My dad loved westerns and tried his hardest to pass that love on to me. The John Wayne doll was a gesture designed to help in that quest. Although not excited about cowboys and Indians, I was thrilled with this toy. I had it for several years after my parents split.

On another business trip, dad was in a car accident where he crashed into a telephone pole. He split his head open and had a long, curved scar on the side of his head that ran from his scalp to his temple until the end of his life. It could be that he took other trips, bit only those two stick out in my memory. On occasions, my love and admiration for my dad was accentuated at opposite ends of my little heart. On one side was a dad who remembered me on a trip out of town and on the other was the realization that I nearly lost him in car accident.

I have determined that the car accident started in me a reflexive protective instinct for my father. As I grew older it morphed into an instinct similar to someone protecting a mentally disabled teenager or someone else that might face disadvantage in the face of others who do not accept or understand them. As soon as I was old enough to realize that my father was at the very least eccentric, I worried for his safety. He just seemed vulnerable. He was an easy target for anyone who was looking to pick on someone or ridicule a strange looking and odd-acting guy. I remember as a child, lying in bed praying that God watch over and protect my father from men who might beat him up or even kill him. Of course I didn’t know of anyone in his life or mine who would do such a thing, but it certainly didn’t have any perspective either. It could have been my fear for his safety and sadness for his isolation after my mom took my brother and me and left him. Did I see myself as his protector? Certainly not. I think I did recognize that without his family, my dad was simply sad and vulnerable to the darkness that it represented in his life, much in the way that I was afraid of my own dark room. To this, I could relate – any child could. I hated that he was alone, and I was scared for him as a result.

My mom left my dad midway through first grade. Like most children that age, I didn’t see it coming. One day I was in class coloring the birds of fall, the next day I was in a sparsely packed car headed for Florida. I have faint memories of the drive south, but can’t recall exactly why were going. While my parents may have explained things to me, I don’t recall understanding the situation. At the same time, I don’t remember feeling like we were heading down on a vacation either.


My first memory of Florida was the heat. West Virginia was starting to cool off and ease into fall, but Florida was still sweltering. Any anxiety I must have felt would have been quickly put at ease as soon as we went swimming in my Aunt Pat’s pool. Pools have a way of distracting children from whatever anxiety they may have in their lives.

The time that followed was sort of blur. I can’t say exactly how long we lived in that first house with Aunt Pat and Uncle Bob, but it seemed like a long time. I do, however remember us leaving that house and moving to a house in what felt like the country. I vaguely remember moving in to the house and my cousin, Teresa hanging beads in the doorway to her room.

One thing of which I am fairly certain is that we did not talk to my father very often if at all when we first got to Florida. I’m sure I did, but it certainly was not something that was often or regular. The first conversation I remember having with my dad was a call that I made. For whatever reason, I felt like I had to sneak off and call my dad in seclusion. Much was made in those days over the cost of long distance calls. It seemed like such a major expenditure reserved for holidays and tragedies. While I knew my old phone number, I did not know how to dial a long distance call. I waited until the house was clear and the family was outside on the porch. I pulled the upstairs phone up to me and dialed ‘0’ for the operator. When she came on the line, I told her that I needed to call my dad and gave her the number. I was afraid that she was going to ask me if I had permission, but she didn’t. I had not yet learned to lie, but clearly had sneaking down pat. The operator asked me if the call would be ‘collect’ or ‘person to person’. I had no idea what that meant, but chose the ‘person to person’ option.

As the call was placed, the operator thanked me. When I said, “you’re welcome” I remember her laughing as I heard the ring on the other end. My grandmother answered. “Nanny?” “Mickey, is that you? Oh, honey! Let me get your dad.” My dad’s voice sounded so hushed in that conversation. I don’t remember any other detail about the conversation other than the sound of father’s voice. It was soft and held back, yet touched and happy. I can say that from where I am at this point in my life that he was broken – a broken man whose family was a thousand miles away. Later that day my mother approached me and asked if I had called my father. I acknowledged that I had. My grandmother had called back and spoken to my mom. She asked me why I didn’t just ask. Not sure how I answered, but I know I felt like I wasn’t supposed to be calling him. I’m sure I was never told that I couldn’t, but that was the impression that I had. I had planted the seeds of alienation on my own assuming that being with my mother meant that I was “on her team”. This was never coached into me, although I do remember general complaints that my mom made about my dad. Perhaps such complaints equaled his being a ‘bad guy’. Making that jump in general assumption seemed to follow me through my life though.

One thing that I knew then and certainly know now is that my mom did a fantastic job navigating the challenges of being a single mother. Shortly after moving with my aunt and uncle to that second house my mom got a job and car. When my mother and aunt picked me up from school one afternoon, they told me that they had a surprise for me at home. When I asked for hints, they said that it was big and white with red spots. I had just seen ‘Pippi Longstocking’ so naturally; I guessed that the surprise was horse since Pippi’s horse had spots. As we got home I saw that it was a car. An old white Ford. The red spots were rust spots.

Not long after that, we moved into a one bedroom apartment in south Tampa, near MacDill Air Force base. Several of our neighbors were in the Air Force, which I found more peculiar than impressive. I thought the apartment was great. It wasn’t a housing project, but it was certainly low income housing. It didn’t matter to me – not that I knew then. It was ours and it felt nearly perfect.

I have three profound memories from that apartment – two involve my dad. Soon after we moved in a dead woman was found in the brush behind our building. It was on the news and everything! It was by far the coolest thing I had ever been a part of. Of course the rule of the land was that my brother and I, as well as every other kid in the apartment stay away from the spot where the body was found. Not the dark, unlit corners of the complex but the spot where the body was found. Seems funny in retrospect.

At Christmas my father came to visit. My mother picked my brother and I up from the babysitter and we headed home. I remember that the night was cold and felt like Christmas despite the fact that we were in west central Florida. She told us that my dad was coming the next day. Naturally, I was excited. He arrived on a Friday. That night we slept in the living room and watched the ‘Rockford Files’ on TV. We stayed up late enough to see the weather on the news.

I recall my mom giving me a lot of uninterrupted time with my dad. While I needed it, it was also confusing. Somewhere during the trip, I assumed that there was at least a chance that my parents were getting back together. Christmas Eve night was spent at Aunt Pat’s house. It seemed jovial and festive – like Christmas should. I felt whole for the first time in a long while.

Something happened during the course of the night. As we arrived at Aunt Pat’s, I asked dad if he and mom were getting back together. He told me, “I don’t know. We’ll see.” I can still hear those exact words clearly. Yet, by the time we left his demeanor had changed dramatically. Whatever it was, I was oblivious to it. As we walked to the car, I jumped into my dad’s arms and said, “Merry Christmas, dad.” He replied, “not this year, son.” I assumed without asking that this meant that any thought of reconciliation was over.

Despite the sour end, the next morning was a bountiful Christmas. There were football helmets and a ‘Six Million Dollar Man’ action figure and virtually everything else that I asked for. I don’t remember Christmas day or my dad leaving town. But I knew that it was official and over as far as my parents marriage was concerned.

By spring, my mom started making friends at work. One of those friends was a man named Tom. While my mom has said that they were just friends, I’m certain now that Tom had other plans. He was around what seemed like a lot. He was a very kind man. The first day I met him, he brought my brother and I Cincinnati Reds caps. He knew that the way to the heart of a single mother was through her kids! There was nothing about this guy that I did not like besides the fact that I thought he was too fat for my mom.

One night when he was visiting, my bed time came. I was delicately sent to bed as mom and Tom stayed in the living room talking. While I had no idea what was going on behind that closed door, I know I didn’t like the idea. My first approach to being invited back into the living room was to write a note asking to come out and slide it under the door. The note was promptly retuned with the words, “no – goodnight” written in pen. My rebuttal was to draw in crayon a picture of an ice cream sundae with the proverbial cherry on top. This was ignored.

As time passed, I started to call out. Mom came into the room once and instructed me firmly to go to bed, reminding me that I had school the next day. More and more what was developing inside me was the feeling that my mom was being stolen from my father in the other room. Although I knew that he was gone and accepted as best I could that my parents were not getting back together, I was feeling the need to defend something – what, I didn’t and don’t know. My desire to be in the other room became a desperate and frantic struggle. My dissatisfaction grew into fear and hysteria. I was sobbing. My cries were to be allowed to stay up with them, but my heart was mourning what was clearly the final signal that my dad was gone from my life in the way that I knew him and wanted him.

Finally, as I was exhausted and had worn my throat raw, Tom left. I heard the door close and his big footsteps head down the stairs in front of our apartment. My mom did not come into the bedroom immediately. A panic came over me. I was worried that my mom was mad at me and that Tom thought I didn’t like him. I ran to the back window of the bedroom that looked down onto the parking lot. As Tom came around the corner and walked to his car, I screamed out the open window, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He never looked up and kept walking to his car. I grabbed my Reds cap and held it up, screaming in a more conciliatory tone, “thank you for my hat!” At seven years-old I was like a junior codependent, worried about everyone that I had let down from missing my father.

(As I write this, it has occurred to me that while I remember these little traumas and significant moments, I don’t remember what was next or how they were resolved. It’s either a little case of PTSD or a child getting what he wants and settling down as a result.)

As it Now Stands: Obama in a Romp

Could conventional wisdom be taking hold in this nation of idiots? Could the Sarah Palin hoax be losing its luster for even the dumbest of the, "I just couldn't trust no black President" Ohioans? Might the post-Jesse Helms tide in North Carolina be swelling into real Carolina blue? If only we could vote tomorrow!

If the Presidential election were held today, based on up to date polling, Barack Obama would win in something just short of a landslide. Taking into account state by state polling from various sources, Obama would beat John McCain, 301-237 in electoral votes if the election were held today. Amazingly, Obama would win by this impressive margin without Ohio and Florida.

Recent polling indicates that Obama has started to pull away in Colorado, now leading by more than five points and has actually opened up a slight lead in Virginia and North Carolina; once considered Republican strongholds.

Of course any lifeling Democrat knows that no one can screw up an election like the Dems. McCain's attempt at an 'October surprise' has probably been on tap for weeks now, and will be unleashed any day now. So, none of us are getting too cocky with such speculation.

Sins of My Father (Part One)

TYING UP LOOSE ENDS (INTRO)
Back in late June when I traveled to Oklahoma City to be with my family and father in what were his last days, I wrote daily about his condition as well as my thoughts and reactions to what was going on. What started out as something informational for concerned friends became the most cathartic exercise of my life.

While a lot has changed since returning to life after his death, so much feels so unresolved and unhandled with regard to my father. I initially had a couple dreams about him. Those dreams felt significant at the time and did provide me with some measure of peace regarding him and the decisions my family and I made with regard to his care.

Most of what you’ll read moving forward may be very private and vulnerable feelings, thoughts or actions. Feeling trapped by my dad’s reality and my own human condition, I am venturing out on what I hope is another cathartic venture and sort through what I see and have seen as well as what I feel and have felt.

As I set out on this journey a close friend is entering into the last days of his father’s life. Listening to his updates on his dad’s condition and state put into greater perspective the fragility of life and our emotional vulnerability to the mortality of those we love and hurt the most.

What you will read is basically the perceptions of a child and teenager. I have purposely not fact checked timelines and dates. While the memories are real, I wanted to maintain the integrity of what were my perceptions at the time and as I grew.

I hope that I will ultimately understand my father better and understand in what ways I am not like him. Though sweet and caring, my quest moving forward is to not be like him. His brokenness casts a shadow that follows me. If I am even remotely broken I want to start the process of repair and personal reconciliation.

So, here goes:

My dad died on June 29th. I’ve thought of him countless times since then. I was surprised by the regret that crept into my consciousness with regard to my father. I felt a surface guilt that I can’t quite shake. I certainly don’t feel responsible for his physical demise or the way that he left this world. Everyone involved played a part in making certain that his last days and moments were as comfortable as possible.

My regret is centered on the slight stroke of my right thumb on more than a few occasions in the year or so before he died. My careless, self-absorbed move robbed my father of a few minutes or an hour or perhaps a day of feeling special. I rejected him, if only for a moment, but in the final hours of a loved one’s life, a moment is priceless.

In the year and a half or so before his death, my dad called me once or twice a week. Talking to him was never a quick thing. Entering into a phone conversation with my father was an investment of time and energy. Our conversations had a predictable flow. We’d start with an exchange of pleasantries, “how are things?” “how is work?” Then we would move into a series of sports topics for the meat of the conversation. Then would come the politics portion – especially over the last year or so. He would almost always launch into a rant about how conservative and racially insensitive the people in Oklahoma were. Something I have never experienced in my numerous visits there. I think he just hated living in a ‘red state’ and this was his way of lashing out. He almost always had a long, dramatically embellished story about a neighbor or a child who supposedly said something so racist that it sounded like something out of Selma lunch counter in the late 1950s. There were always references to a precious sentimentality to which he clung from his past. It would often involve the valor of my grandfather or the philosophical and moral conviction of my grandmother. They were his heroes as well as his parents.

We would almost always begin the wind down of any phone conversation with a more sincere exchange of “so, how are things going?” and “how are the girls”. Then he would tell me he loved me; “I love you, boy” or “I love you, big guy”. I told him that I loved him too, but not with the same conviction. I’m certain he knew I loved him and he did hear it, but I never gushed it like he did. I robbed him of that. I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that he dragged me through a litany of stories and memories that were not true on any level. I thought I understood why he told those stories. I’m pretty sure I didn’t.

Too often, instead of going along for that sixty minute ride down a memory lane that really only existed in his mind, I flipped open my phone and pushed the ‘ignore’ button on my phone. While I always got around to calling him back, I never considered that perhaps he needed the connection of his beloved son at that moment in his life. Maybe he needed to tell those stories and feel a special connection to family and a past that often required the emotional bandage of an embellished story of family love and togetherness. No matter, he loved me and only wanted the sound of my voice. With the frivolous swipe of my thumb I rejected him – not just his call, but his reach for me.

My guilt and regret is in full effect; this is how it feels. The truth is that sting is starting to fade and his absence is starting to take its place in my life. My dad is gone and this is now my place in life’s cycle. At my age, questions about our parents take nothing for granted and are almost always framed in the context, “are both of your parents still around?”

Being a father in the midst of a divorce myself I have recognized some of the similarities of our situations. The painful aspects draw inevitable comparisons to the pain that I now can imagine more clearly that my dad must have felt. As I consider my future as a father and a soon to be divorced man, I fear that his path could be mine. The concept of bearing his cross in any way or making some of the same mistakes as he and the ghosts of what I have always considered the ridiculous Biblical concept of “sins of a father” seem to be something from which I am beginning to run from no matter how disconnected from reality or crazy they sound. I am my own man with my own way to go. My father’s ills and struggles are his. I know this yet feel stalked by what I now see was his pain. The depth of it and its lasting affects haunt me and bog me down in the form of this guilt over a rejected cell phone call.

So, my quest here will be to fill in the gaps of what I feel. Sort through some of my own most intimate fears about myself and my place by dipping into the emotion and pain caused by the fracturing of my family. I think that the logical path through this starts with the discovery of who my dad was, and why. Some of us are who we are and that’s that. Others are who they are for a reason. There was a reason my dad was who and how he was. I’m not so sure about me, but I need to know.

McCain Missteps, Obama Steps Up

The time between John McCain’s impromptu televised press conference and Barack Obama’s response from Florida may have been the most important hour of the campaign thus far.

Sen. Obama phoned Sen. McCain this morning and suggested the joint statement than McCain referred to as if it were his idea in his statement. In that conversation, McCain expressed his belief that both campaigns should suspend operations and focus on the financial crisis and impending bailout vote in Congress. Obama stated that he did not agree to postpone the debate, and that McCain was simply “mulling it over”.

If things are usually accurately interpreted at first glance and listen, then McCain looked desperate and smarmy. His call to delay the debate was so clearly political that it oozed out of his hastily prepared and amateurish remarks.

About an hour later, Sen. Obama took to the airwaves from Tampa. He outlined the timeline and the fact that he initiated the idea for a joint statement, something that McCain left out. He looked confident and Presidential, assured and informed. The most brilliant part of his statement was that he did not address the question of the debate. He proceeded as if everyone knew that Friday’s debate would go on. It was not until Obama took questions that he even spoke to the issue. When he did, his point was clear and perfect sense. If ever there was a time for the American people to hear from the two candidates for President, it was now.

It the campaign’s most critical moment, McCain blinked and Obama stepped up strong and assumed the role of leader. McCain’s ‘Chicken Little’ call to scramble back to Washington loses its impact when you consider that less than a week ago McCain said that the fundamentals of the economy were strong. On which point should he backtrack?

Pundits everywhere assumed that McCain’s statement was not as much in response to the pending vote on the hill than it was about his plummeting poll numbers over the last week. Today’s events could potentially impact the polls as much as Friday’s debate. If McCain struggles in the debate, his numbers could dip to dangerous levels.

The Lies of Sarah Palin

By Matt Taibbi (courtesy of Rolling Stone)
I’m standing outside the Xcel Energy Center in St. Paul, Minnesota. Sarah Palin has just finished her speech to the Republican National Convention, accepting the party’s nomination for Vice President. If I hadn’t quit my two pack a day habit earlier this year, I’d be chain smoking right now. So the only thing left is to stand mute against the fit-for-a-cheap-dog-kennel crowd-control fencing you see everywhere at these idiotic conventions and gnaw on weird new feelings of shock and anarchist rage as one would a rawhide chew toy.

All around me, a million cops in there absurd post-9/11 space combat get-ups stand guard as assholes in paper-mache puppet heads scramble around for one last moment of network face time before the coverage goes dark. Four-chinned delegates from places like Arkansas and Georgia are pouring joylessly out the gates in search of bars where they can load up on Zombies and Scorpion bowls and other “wild” drinks and extramaritally grope their turkey-necked female companions in bathroom stalls as part of the “Unbelievable Time” they will inevitably report to there pals back home. Only 21st-centrury Americans can pass through a metal detector six times in an hour and still think they’re at a party.

The defining moment for me came shortly after Palin and her family stepped down from the stage to uproarious applause, looking happy enough to throw a whole library full of books into the sewer. In the crush to exit the stadium, a middle-aged woman wearing a cowboy hat, a red-white-and-blue shirt and an obvious eye job gushed to a male colleague – They were both wearing badges identifying them as members of the Colorado delegation – At the Xcel gates.

“She totally reminds me of my cousin!” the delegate screeched. “She’s a real woman! The real thing!”

I stared at her open-mouthed. In that moment, the rank cynicism of the whole sorry deal was laid bare. Here’s the thing about Americans. You can send their kids off by the thousands to get their balls blown off in foreign lands for no reason at all, saddle them with billions in debt year after congressional year while they spend their winters cheerfully watching game shows and football, pull the rug out from under their mortgages, and leave them living off their credit cards and their Wal-Mart salaries while you move their jobs to China and Bangalore.

And none of it matters, so long as you remember a few months before Election Day to offer them a two-bit caricature culled from some cutting-room-floor episode of Roseanne as part of your presidential ticket. And if she’s good enough likeness of a loudmouthed Middle American archetype, as Sarah Palin is, John Q. Public will drop his giant sized bag of Doritos in gratitude, wipe the sizzlin’ picante dust from his lips and rush to the booth to vote for her. Not because it makes sense, or because it has a chance of improving his life or anyone else’s, but simply because it appeals to the low-humming narcissism that substitutes for his personality, because that image on TV reminds him of the mean brainless slob he sees in the mirror every morning.

Sarah Palin is a symbol of everything that is wrong with the modern United States. As a representative of our political system, she’s a new low in reptilian villainy, the ultimate cynical masterwork of puppeteers like Karl Rove. But more than that, she is a horrifying symbol of how little we ask for in return for the total surrender of our political power. Not only is Sarah Palin a fraud, she’s the tawdriest, most half-assed fraud imaginable, 20 floors below the lowest common denominator, a character too dumb even for daytime TV – And this country is going to eat her up, cheering every step of the way. All because most Americans no longer have the energy to do anything but lie back and allow ourselves to be jacked off by the calculating thieves who run this grasping consumer paradise we call a nation.

The Palin speech was a political masterpiece, one of the most ingenious pieces of electoral theater this country has ever seen. Never before has a single televised image turned a party’s fortunes around faster

Until the Alaska governor actually ascended to the podium that night, I was convinced that John McCain had made on of the all-time campaign-season blunders, that he had acted impulsively and out of utter desperation in choosing a cross-eyed political neophyte just two years removed from running a town smaller than the bleacher section at Fenway park. It even crossed my mind that there was an element of weirdly self-destructive pique in McCain’s decision to cave in to his party’s right-wing base in this fashion, that perhaps he was responding to being ordered by party elders away from tepid, ideologically promiscuous hack like Joe Lieberman – Reportedly his real preference – By picking the most obviously unqualified, doomed-to-fail joke of a Bible-Thumping buffoon. As in: You want me to rally the base? Fine, I’ll rally the base. Here I’ll choose this rifle-toting, serially pregnant moose killer who thinks God lobbies for oil pipelines. Happy know?

But watching Palin’s speech I had no doubt that I was witnessing a historic, iconic performance. The candidate sauntered to the lectern with the assurance of a sleepwalker – And immediately launched into a symphony of snorting and sneering remarks, taking time out in between the superior invective to present herself as just a humble gal with a beefcake husband and a brood of healthy, combat-ready spawn who just happened to be innocent targets of a communist and probably also homosexual media conspiracy. She appeared to be completely without shame and utterly full of shit, awing a room full of hardened reporters with her sickly sweet line about the high-school-flame-turned-hubby who “Five children later” is “Still my guy.” It was like watching Gidget address the Reichstag.

Within minutes, Palin had given TV audiences a character infinitely recognizable to virtually every American; the small-town girl with just enough looks and a defiantly incurious mind who thinks the PTA minutes are Holy Writ, and to whom injustice means the woman next door owning a slightly nicer set or drapes or flatware. Or the governorship, as it were.

Right-wingers of the Bush-Rove ilk have had a tough time finding a human face to put on their failed, inhuman, mean-as-hell policies. But it was hard not to recognize the genius of wedding that faltering brand of institutionalized greed to the image of the suburban American supermom. It’s the perfect cover, for there is almost nothing in the world meaner than this species of provincial tyrant.

Palin herself burned this political symbiosis into the pages of history with her seminal crack about the “Difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull: lipstick,” blurring once and for all the lines between meanness on the grand political scale as understood by the Roves and Bushes of the world, and meanness of the small-town variety as understood by pretty much anyone who has ever sat around in his ranch-house den dreaming of a fourth plasma-screen TV or an extra set of KC HiLites for his truck, while some ghetto family a few miles away shares a husk of government cheese.

In her speech, Palin presented herself as a raging baby-making furnace of middle-class ambition next to whom the yuppies of the Obama set – Who never want anything all that badly except maybe a few afternoons with someone else’s wife, or a few kind words in The New York Times Book Review – Seem like weak, self-doubting celibates, the kind of people who certainly cannot be trusted to believe in the right God or to defend a nation. We’re used to seeing such blatant cultural caricaturing in our politicians. But Sarah Palin is something new. She’s all caricature. As the candidate of a party whose positions on individual issues are poll losers almost across the board, her shtick is not even designed to sell a line of policies. It’s just designed to sell her. The thing was as much as admitted in the on-air gaffe by former Reagan speechwriter Peggy Noonan, who was inadvertently caught saying on MSNBC that Palin wasn’t the most qualified candidate, that the party “went for this, excuse me, political bullshit about narratives.”

The great insight of the Palin VP choice is that huge chunks of American voters no longer even demand that their candidates actually have policy positions; they simply consume them as media entertainment, rooting for or against them according to the reflective prejudices of their demographic, as they would for a reality-show contestants or sitcom characters. Hicks root for hicks, moms for moms, born-agains for born-agains. Sure, there was politics in the Palin speech but it was all either silly lies or merely incidental fluffery buttressing the theatrical performance. A classic example of what was at work here came when Palin proudly introduced her Down-Syndrome baby, Trig, then stared into the camera and somberly promised parents of special-needs kids that they would “Have a friend and advocate in the White House.” This was about a half-hour before she raised her hands in triumph with McCain, a man who voted against increasing funding for special-needs education.

Palin’s charge that “government is too big” and that Obama “Wants to grow it” was similarly preposterous. Not only did her party just preside over the largest government expansion since LBJ, but Palin herself has been a typical bush-era republican, borrowing and spending beyond her means. Her great legacy as mayor of Wasilla was the construction of a $15 million hockey arena in a city with an annual budget of $20 million; Palin OK’d a bond issue for the project before the land had been secured, leading to a protracted legal mess that ultimately forced taxpayers to pay more than six times the original market price for property the city ended up having to seize from a private citizen using eminent domain. Better yet, Palin ended up paying for the fucking thing with a 25 percent increase in the city sales tax. But in her speech, of course, Palin presented herself as the enemy of tax increases, righteously bemoaning that “Taxes are too high” and Obama “Wants to raise them.”

Palin hasn’t been too worried about federal taxes as governor of a state that ranks number one in the nation in federal spending per resident ($13,950), even as it sits just 18th in federal taxes paid per resident ($5,434). That means all us taxpaying non-Alaskans spend $8,500 a year on each and every resident of Palin’s paradise of rugged self-sufficiency. Not that this sworn enemy of taxes doesn’t collect from her own; Alaska currently collects the most taxes per resident of any state in the nation. The rest of Palin’s speech was the same dog-whistle crap Republicans have been railing about for decades. Palin’s crack about a mayor being “like a community organizer, except that you have actual responsibilities” testified to the Republican’s apparent belief that they can win elections till the end of time running against the Sixties. (They’re probably right.) The incessant pausing about the media was likewise par for the course, red meat for those tens of millions of patriotic flag-waving Americans whose first instinct when things get rough is to whine like bitches and blame other people – Reporters, the French, those ungrateful blacks soaking up tax money eating big prison meals, whomever – For their failures.

Add to this the usual lies about Democrats wanting to “forfeit” to our enemies abroad and coddle terrorists, and you had a run-of-the-mill, almost boring Republican speech from a substance standpoint. What made it exceptional was its utter hypocrisy, its total disregard for reality, it’s total disregard for reality, it’s absolute unrelation to the facts of our current political situation. After eight years of unprecedented corruption, incompetence, waste and greed, the party of Karl Rove understood that 50 million Americans would not demand solutions to any of these problems so long as they were given a new, new thing to beat their meat over.

Sarah Palin is that new, new thing, and in the end it won’t matter that she’s got an unmarried teenage kid with a bun in the oven. Of course, if the daughter of a black candidate like Barack Obama showed up at his convention with a five month bump and some sideways-cap-wearing, junior-grade Curtis Jackson (50 cent) holding her hand, the defenders of Traditional Morality would be up in arms. But the thing about being in the reality-making business is that you don’t need to worry much about vetting; there are no facts in your candidate’s bio that cannot be ignored or overcome.

One of the most amusing things about the Palin nomination has been the reaction of horrified progressives. The internet has been buzzing at full volume as would-be defenders of sanity and reason pore over the governor’s record in search of the Damning Facts. My own telephone began ringing off the hook with calls from ex-Alaskans and friends of Alaskans determined to help get the “truth” about Sarah Palin into the major media. Pretty much anyone with an internet connection knows by know that Palin was originally for the “Bridge to Nowhere” before she opposed it (She actually endorsed the plan in her 2006 gubernatorial campaign), that even after the project was defeated she kept the money, that she didn’t actually sell the Alaska governor’s state luxury jet on eBay but instead sold it at a $600,000 loss to a campaign contributor (who is reportedly now seeking $50,000 in taxpayer money to pay maintenance costs).

Then there are the salacious tales of Palin’s swinging-meat-cleaver management style, many of which seem to have a common thread: In addition to being ensconced in a messy ethics investigation over her firing of the chief of Alaska state troopers (dismissed after refusing to sack her sister’s ex-husband), Palin also fired a campaign aide who had an affair with a friends wife. More ominously, as mayor of Wasilla, Palin tried to fire the town librarian, Mary Ellen Emmons, who had resisted pressure to censor books Palin found objectionable.

Then there’s the God stuff: Palin belongs to a church whose pastor, Ed Kalnins, believes that all criticisms of George Bush “Come from Hell” and wondered aloud if people who voted for John Kerry could be saved. Kalnins, looming as the answer to Obama’s Jeremiah Wright, claims that Alaska is going to be a “refuge state” for Christians in the last days, last days which he sometimes speaks of in the present tense. Palin herself has been captured on video mouthing the inevitable born again idiocies, such as the idea that a recent oil-pipeline deal was “God’s Will.” She also described the Iraq War as a “task that is from God” and part of a heavenly “Plan.” She supports teaching creationism and “Abstinence only” in public schools, opposes abortion even for victims of rape, has denied the science behind global warming and attends a church that seeks to convert Jews and cure homosexuals.

All of which tells you about what you’d expect from a raise-the-base choice like Palin: She’s a puffed-up dimwit with primitive religious beliefs who had to be educated as to the fact that the constitution did not exactly envision government executives firing librarians. Judging from the importance progressive critics seem to attach to these revelations, you’d think that these were actually negatives in modern American politics. But Americans like politicians who hate books and see the face of Jesus in every tree stump. They like them stupid and mean and ignorant of the rules. Which is why Palin has only seemed to grow in popularity as more and more of these revelations have come out.

The same goes for the most damning aspect of her biography, her total lack of big-game experience. As governor of Alaska, Palin presides over a state whose entire population is barely the size of Memphis. This kind of thing might matter in a country that actually worried about whether its leader was prepared for his job – But not in America. In America, it takes about 2 weeks in the limelight for the whole country to think you’ve been around for years. To a certain extent, this is why Obama is getting a pass on the same issue. He’s been on TV every day for two years and according to the standards of our instant-ramen culture, that’s a lifetime of hands-on experience.

It is worth noting that the same criticisms of Palin also hold true for two other candidates in this race, John McCain and Barack Obama. As politicians, both men are more narrative than substance, with McCain rising to prominence on the back of his bio as a suffering war hero and Obama mostly playing the part of long-lost, future-embracing liberal dreamboat not seen on the national stage since Bobby Kennedy died. If your stomach turns to read how Palin’s Kawasaki 704 glasses are flying off the shelves in Middle America, you have to accept that Middle America probably feels the same way when it hears Donatella Versace dedicated her collection to Obama during Milan Fashion Week. Or sees the throwing-panties-onstage-“I love you, Obama!” ritual at the Democratic nominee’s town-hall appearances.

So, sure, Barack Obama might be every bit as much as a slick piece of imageering as Sarah Palin. The difference is in what the image represents. The Obama image represents tolerance, intelligence, education, patience with the notion of compromise and negotiation, and a willingness to stare ugly facts right in the face, all qualities we’re actually going to need in government if we’re going to get out of this huge mess we’re in.

Here’s what Sarah Palin represents: being a fat fucking pig who pins “Country First” buttons on his man titties and chants “U-S-A! U-S-A!” at the top of his lungs while his kids live off credit cards and Saudis buy up all the mortgages in Kansas

The truly disgusting thing about Sarah Palin isn’t that she’s totally unqualified, or a religious zealot, or married to a secessionist, or unable to educate her own daughter about sex, or a fake conservative who raised taxes and porked up earmark millions every chance she got. No, the most disgusting thing about her is what she says about us: That you can ram us in the ass for eight solid years, and we’ll not only thank you for your trouble, we’ll sign you up for eight more years, if only you promise to stroke us in the right spot for few hours around election time.

Democracy doesn’t require a whole lot of work of its citizens, but it requires some: It requires taking a good look outside once in awhile, and considering the bad news and what it might mean, and making the occasional tough choice, and soberly taking stock of what your real interests are.

This is a very different thing from shopping, which involves passively letting sitcoms melt your brain all day long and then jumping straight into the TV screen to buy a southern Style Chicken Sandwich because the slob singing “I’m Lovin’ It!” during the commercial break looks just like you. The joy of being a consumer is that it doesn’t require thought, responsibility, self-awareness or shame: All you have to do is obey the first urge that gurgles up from your stomach. And then obey the next. And the next. And the next.

And when it comes time to vote all you have to do is put your Country First – Just like that lady on TV who reminds you of your cousin. U-S-A, Baby. U-S-A! U-S-A!

The Right Defines Family Values Over a Stack of Waffles

Did you miss the Values Voters Summit last weekend? I did too. It’s a shame too, because I was so looking forward to hearing how values centered Americans vote and see the world. I don’t know about you, but I need to get my head screwed on straight with good old American values. I really need to get better about putting important events in that calendar gizmo in my phone.

The summit was hosted and organized by socially conservative public policy groups American Values and Focus on the Family. The always entertaining James Dobson was there, as was Newt Gingrich and Mitt Romney – the first time a Newt and a Mitt ever spoke at the same event, I’m sure.

The summit was a treasure trove of values based discussion groups like the mentally stimulating workshop on how the Jews are responsible for the manufacturing and burying of all those so-called “dinosaur bones”. There was also a workshop on options for the relocation of gay Americans to a string of islands off the coast of Guam. Perhaps none of the events were more popular than ‘In the Kitchen with Sarah’, where the Republican VP nominee whipped up a few recipes that no conservative dinner table should be without, including, ‘Bridge to Nowhere Beef Brisket’ and ‘Troopergate Tacos’.

Of course, I kid the Republicans! All of that is just a joke. Just a little fun poking at the policies of the far right. Besides, they would never allow a recipe for tacos at one of their events. Tacos, it turns out, are Mexican.

But one of the items sold at the event was no joke. It was quite popular too. ‘Obama Waffles’. Without the aid of the box, it might sound like a clever jab at Obama’s possible shifting on any given issue. However, when you see the box, there is no denying the intent. A cartoon Obama is featured on the front with bulging eyes and thick lips. Perhaps its an homage to the old school, Aunt Jamima, the loveable slave who just loved cookin’ up flapjacks for white folks.

As insanely offensive as the front of the box is, the box top is even worse. It shows Barack Obama in a Muslim headdress beside a label that says, “Point box toward Mecca for tastier waffles”.

Now as if that weren’t enough, the back of the box is fun too. Obama is depicted in stereotypical Mexican dress, including a sombrero, above a recipe for "Open Border Fiesta Waffles" that says it can serve "4 or more illegal aliens." The recipe includes a tip: "While waiting for these zesty treats to invade your home, why not learn a foreign language?" Isn’t that cute?

What is clear in this and with most every Republic attack in a campaign where it is in their best interest to avoid any and all issues is that the difference in their attacks compared to those of the Democrats is that the right is not at all squeamish when it comes to getting personal. Not just personal, but personal and dishonest. The brilliant part of this approach is that while they roar forward, they also any questioning of Sarah Palin’s policies or experience is somehow personal or sexist. Classic!

One last note. As this article is being published, the website from the summit's organizer, frcaction.org has removed all of its content on the summit. Now, I better close this up now, I’m hungry for a Lipstick on a Pig Pork Sandwich.

SNL Hits the Ground Running

Tina Fey seemed to channel Sarah Palin in Saturday Night Live's season premier:

Liberal Media?! I Wish!

I heard something about Sarah Palin on NPR today. You know, NPR, the go-to example of liberal media on the radio. The piece outlined how the article originally outlining Palin’s efforts to ban certain books from the Wasilla public library system was exaggerated in its original reported form. Imagine that! The most biased radio outlet in America correcting a story on the ultra-conservative VP nominee.

Have you ever wondered why the against all odds, right wing machine refers to NPR as a liberal stronghold? I would suggest that there are two reasons. First, the word ‘public’ is in their name. That can’t be good! They probably associate with and pledge to serve the public. How sincere can a non-profit be anyway? Second and most probable is the connection conservatives make to NPR and PBS to wacky liberal rhetoric like art and books. Reading – how gay!

The Republicans have been balling their droopy eyes out for most of a generation about how biased the media is against them and their cause. Of course that ‘man behind the curtain’ is the fact that they have used a complicate media to make their case with crocodile tears and mock outrage. They have done so with the self assurance that they would not often be discovered by an apathetic and easily manipulated electorate and certainly not called onto the carpet by an alarmingly lazy media.

While most agree that many mainstream anchors and reporters lean to the left, none report stories with a true and deep rooted bias – none. I defy anyone to find one example. Before my conservative readers scurry onto Google for an array of samples, understand the difference between commentary and reporting. Keith Olbermann and Sean Hannity are commentators, not reporters. Tom Brokaw and Charles Gibson are news anchors, not commentators. You will not find one example of either of them or Katie Couric reporting a story with any liberal bias or conservative bias for that matter.

The angle that Republicans have played so brilliantly over the years, especially the Karl Rove years, is to paint the reporting of any story where Republicans look bad, are viewed bad or solicit gay sex in an airport bathroom as liberal bias. It’s a form of ‘shooting the messenger’. The news media – especially the American news media is obligated by the First Amendment to report the news in full. They should chase the story, they have to. They must also ask follow-up questions.

Our press is in essence asked to hold our leaders accountable in our best interest. They have for the most part done this well over the years. Neo-cons would have us believe that the press has done this with far more vigor in their coverage of Republicans. Don’t believe the hype.

We all know about Watergate, but why does the Whitewater scandal ring a bell? Why is it that Monica Lewinsky is a name recognizable to everyone? Sure, Larry Craig is an infamous Republican, but isn’t the name Ray Nagin synonymous with mayoral incompetence? How about Jeremiah Wright? Why do you know that he was Barack Obama’s pastor? Can you name Sarah Palin’s pastor? Did you know that he has said that the Iraq war is part of “God’s plan” and that the US will be held accountable by God for its acceptance of gays? If you didn’t, you should.

This is where the media is dropping the ball. They are not biased in their reporting. They are failing us by not asking good, solid follow-up questions. They are not holding politicians accountable. When they do, they are punished. When CNN’s Campbell Brown challenged a McCain advisor on Sarah Palin’s involvement and true authority over the Alaska National Guard, McCain cancelled an appearance on the network the next day. The problem is not that reporters are not asking tough questions, it is that they are not following up or demanding truth and proof. I’m sure Palin will be asked about the fact the she actually supported the ‘Bridge to Nowhere’ before she withdrew her support only after Congress rejected the bill. But when she says “I did not support the bill”, will she be confronted with the reality and asked to answer for it? Probably not.

Why is Sarah Palin being sequestered? Why has she not been exposed to the media other than Charles Gibson? She is not ready for the follow-up questions – clearly. She didn’t even know what the ‘Bush Doctrine’ is. Rest assured, she does now. The McCain campaign carefully chose Gibson because of his reputation for asking softball questions and falling short of any recognizable rebuttal. I was suspicious of Gibson in advance of the interview, but must say that he carried his weight in the interview, exposing Palin’s shallow understanding of much of anything beyond Alaska.

So as the campaign moves forward keep an eye on the media. Look for examples of bias. As they ask questions of all the candidates consider what your follow-up would be. You will not find an example of a factual story that is biased toward either candidate. The media, like Joe Friday is looking for just the facts.

Palin is Bush in Heels

Sarah Palin's time as mayor of the tiny town of Wasilla and Governor of Alaska was full of secrecy, cronyism, censorship and vendettas

BY: Jo Becker, Peter S. Goodman and Michael Powell (courtesy of The New York Times)

WASILLA, Alaska — Gov. Sarah Palin lives by the maxim that all politics is local, not to mention personal.

So when there was a vacancy at the top of the State Division of Agriculture, she appointed a high school classmate, Franci Havemeister, to the $95,000-a-year directorship. A former real estate agent, Ms. Havemeister cited her childhood love of cows as a qualification for running the roughly $2 million agency.

Ms. Havemeister was one of at least five schoolmates Ms. Palin hired, often at salaries far exceeding their private sector wages.

When Ms. Palin had to cut her first state budget, she avoided the legion of frustrated legislators and mayors. Instead, she huddled with her budget director and her husband, Todd, an oil field worker who is not a state employee, and vetoed millions of dollars of legislative projects.

And four months ago, a Wasilla blogger, Sherry Whitstine, who chronicles the governor’s career with an astringent eye, answered her phone to hear an assistant to the governor on the line, she said.

“You should be ashamed!” Ivy Frye, the assistant, told her. “Stop blogging. Stop blogging right now!”

Ms. Palin walks the national stage as a small-town foe of “good old boy” politics and a champion of ethics reform. The charismatic 44-year-old governor draws enthusiastic audiences and high approval ratings. And as the Republican vice-presidential nominee, she points to her management experience while deriding her Democratic rivals, Senators Barack Obama and Joseph R. Biden Jr., as speechmakers who never have run anything.

But an examination of her swift rise and record as mayor of Wasilla and then governor finds that her visceral style and penchant for attacking critics — she sometimes calls local opponents “haters” — contrasts with her carefully crafted public image.

Throughout her political career, she has pursued vendettas, fired officials who crossed her and sometimes blurred the line between government and personal grievance, according to a review of public records and interviews with 60 Republican and Democratic legislators and local officials.

Still, Ms. Palin has many supporters. As a two-term mayor she paved roads and built an ice rink, and as governor she has pushed through higher taxes on the oil companies that dominate one-third of the state’s economy. She stirs deep emotions. In Wasilla, many residents display unflagging affection, cheering “our Sarah” and hissing at her critics.

“She is bright and has unfailing political instincts,” said Steve Haycox, a history professor at the University of Alaska. “She taps very directly into anxieties about the economic future.”

“But,” he added, “her governing style raises a lot of hard questions.”

Ms. Palin declined to grant an interview for this article. The McCain-Palin campaign responded to some questions on her behalf and that of her husband, while referring others to the governor’s spokespeople, who did not respond.

Lt. Gov. Sean Parnell said Ms. Palin had conducted an accessible and effective administration in the public’s interest. “Everything she does is for the ordinary working people of Alaska,” he said.

In Wasilla, a builder said he complained to Mayor Palin when the city attorney put a stop-work order on his housing project. She responded, he said, by engineering the attorney’s firing.

Interviews show that Ms. Palin runs an administration that puts a premium on loyalty and secrecy. The governor and her top officials sometimes use personal e-mail accounts for state business; dozens of e-mail messages obtained by The New York Times show that her staff members studied whether that could allow them to circumvent subpoenas seeking public records.

Rick Steiner, a University of Alaska professor, sought the e-mail messages of state scientists who had examined the effect of global warming on polar bears. (Ms. Palin said the scientists had found no ill effects, and she has sued the federal government to block the listing of the bears as endangered.) An administration official told Mr. Steiner that his request would cost $468,784 to process.

When Mr. Steiner finally obtained the e-mail messages — through a federal records request — he discovered that state scientists had in fact agreed that the bears were in danger, records show.

“Their secrecy is off the charts,” Mr. Steiner said.

State legislators are investigating accusations that Ms. Palin and her husband pressured officials to fire a state trooper who had gone through a messy divorce with her sister, charges that she denies. But interviews make clear that the Palins draw few distinctions between the personal and the political.

continued...

Sex, Lies and Video Tape

SEX
The McCain campaign has reached so deep into the bowels of campaign strategy that there really is no suitable way to describe it. Desperate to paint the Democrats and the media as unfairly targeting Sarah Palin for her sex, they are actually accusing Barack Obama of referring to Palin as a pig when he described McCain policy positions mirroring those of the Bush administration.

The McCain campaign is so clamoring to have any repudiation of Palin be about sex that they desperately grab at everything having anything remotely to do with it as evidence. The assertion that Obama’s remarks were in any way directed at Palin is most egregious example of manufactured outrage in recent memory.

The backlash from the public seems to be a collective, “really?! You want us to believe that you’re offended?!” Even as the lazy media failed to cover the McCain outrage to its end, McCain appeared in an interview with Telemundo and asserted that Obama did indeed tie Palin to the comments. The image of McCain making this claim cast him in a sleazy light – literally. The shot and McCain’s demeanor made him look like he was standing outside the back exit of an adult bookstore (see video below).
LIES
The lie of their outrage comes as no fewer than four video taped samples of McCain using the exact same reference – twice in response to Hillary Clinton’s healthcare plan. Has anyone at ABC, CBS, NBC, FOX or CNN thought to ask McCain if he was calling Clinton a pig? The mainstream media continues to wilt in the dog days of summer. In their defense, McCain was not available to an English speaking news outlet today, so we’ll have to see if they ask the logical question tomorrow. Actually, the McCain camp took the day off entirely today not discussing a single campaign issue. Of course the sequestering of Sarah Palin from any media at all continues. We are now on day twelve of Palin ducking any questions from anyone at all. She is scheduled to conduct an interview with ABC news tomorrow. Charlie Gibson and George Stephanopoulos are the media’s version of Fred Rogers and Howdy Doody, avoiding convicting questions as if they caused syphilis.

Obama responded sincerely and appropriately in Virginia today. His remarks in their full context were tough and measured. In what felt like a conversation Obama pointed out with force how sleazy the mock outrage is and called for an end to it, asserting that the real losers are the voters. Clearly, the McCain campaign is fine with a continued victimization of the voters so long as it gets him elected. Let’s hope the voters finally stand up and call a true pig a pig.
AND VIDEO TAPE

Sarah Palin: A Trojan Moose Concealing Four More Years of George Bush

By Arianna Huffington (courtesy of Huffington Post)

Did Sarah Palin wrongfully push to have her ex-brother-in law fired? Was she really against the "Bridge to Nowhere?" Did she really sell Alaska's plane on eBay, or just list it on eBay? Did she actually have any substantial duties commanding the Alaska National Guard?
The correct answer to all these questions is: who cares? Which isn't to say these aren't valid questions, or that Palin and the McCain camp aren't playing it fast, loose, and coy with each of them. The point is that Palin, and the circus she's brought to town, are simply a bountiful collection of small lies deliberately designed to distract the country from one big truth: the havoc that George Bush and the Republican Party have wrought, and that John McCain is committed to continuing.
Every second of this campaign not spent talking about the Republican Party's record, and John McCain's role in that record, is a victory for John McCain.
Her critics like to say that Palin hasn't accomplished anything. I disagree: in the space of ten days she's succeeded in distracting the entire country from the horrific Bush record -- and McCain's complicity in it. My friends, that's accomplishment we can believe in.
Just look at the problem John McCain faced. George Bush has a disastrous record, and the country knows it. John McCain -- the current one, not the one who vanished eight years ago -- has no major disagreements with George Bush (and I'm sorry, wanting to fire Donald Rumsfeld a bit sooner doesn't qualify) and wants to continue his incredibly unpopular policies for another four years. The solution? Enter Sarah Palin, a Trojan Moose carrying four more years of disaster.
And the plan has worked beautifully. Just look at what's being discussed just 57 days before the election. Is it the highest unemployment rate in five years? The bailout of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac? The suicide bombing yesterday in Iraq that killed six people and wounded 54 -- in the same market where last month a bomb killed 28 people and wounded 72? That the political reconciliation that was supposedly the point of "the surge" is nowhere near happening? That Iraq's Shiite government is now rounding up the American-backed Sunni leaders of the Awakening? That the reason 8,000 soldiers may be leaving Iraq soon is so more can be deployed to Afghanistan where the Taliban is steadily retaking the country?
No. We're talking about whether Sarah Palin was or was not a good mayor, whether she was or was not a good mother, whether her skirts are too short and her zingers too sarcastic.
Contrary to what we're hearing 24/7 in the media, the next few weeks are not a test of Sarah Palin. The next few weeks are a test of Barack Obama.
He needs to dramatically redirect this election back to a discussion over the issues that really matter -- the issues that will impact the future of this country. A presidential campaign is a battle and this is the time for Obama to show some commander-in-chief skills. I'm not talking about calling Palin out for lying about his record and demeaning community organizing. I'm talking about grabbing the political debate by the throat. The country is already angry about what's happened over the last seven-plus years -- he shouldn't be afraid to give voice to that anger. Obama has spent years adopting a non-threatening persona; but he can't let his fear that appearing like an "angry Black man" (a stereotype not-too-subtly fueled by Fox News) will turn off swing voters keep him from channeling the disgust and outrage felt by so many voters --swing and otherwise.
McCain's team, in an effort to distract, is going to keep doing what they're doing -- diverting voters and the media with a tantalizing combination of personal trivia and small lies. It doesn't matter if they're caught in them -- in fact, all the better. Because they know there is no way in hell they can win if this election is about the big truth of the Bush years.
McCain's real running mate is George Bush and the failed policies of the Republican Party. Even if they are dressed up in a skirt, lipstick, and Tina Fey glasses.

All That Really Needs to be Said About Palin

Once again Jon Stewart does the media's job by asking the real follow-up questions.

McCain: Oh, God. What Have I Done?!

Can’t a guy take a break to attend to some domestic issues without the entire American political system coming unraveled?! Geez! Where to begin?
Is this heaven?
Let’s go in order: Last Thursday night, Barack Obama too to the podium at Invesco Field in Denver and gave one of the most effective and profoundly impressive speeches in our lifetime. He was and said everything he had to. He was thorough and clear and specific as well as uniquely inspiring. More than anything, Obama squarely and aggressively challenged the Republican smear campaign machine to a brawl in the streets. Instead of waiting to be punched like Al Gore and John Kerry did, Obama cast the first blow in calling out the Bush administration for what it has been and is and seamlessly tying the new John McCain to it time and time again.

It was the first time I have ever been moved to tears by the prepared remarks of anyone. More than anything, as Obama ended his speech and was joined on stage by his family and by the Biden family, I was enormously proud; proud that I joined the Obama campaign on day one. I was proud to be a Democrat and proud of the change and reform that we have fought for as a party. I was proud to be part of a movement that was facilitating a lasting shift in thinking and philosophy in this country. Several times it occurred to me quite clearly that a black man is within spitting distance of the highest office in the world. It was impossible for me not to think of people like Rosa Parks, Emmitt Till, Medgar Evers and Martin Luther King.
Oh no he didn't!
Not long after waking up the next morning, word was spreading that John McCain had settled on a running mate. Mitt Romney? I figured! No? Tim Pawlenty, right? Could swing Minnesota red. Seriously? Certainly not, Joe Liebermann! Who? Sarah who? The Alaska chick? No, Seriously; who did he pick?

I must admit, as I heard the announcement that Palin had been chosen as McCain’s running mate I was thrilled. It made no sense. A couple hours later when I heard McCain and Palin make their first speech from Ohio, I was even more thrilled – almost giddy! They were targeting disenchanted Hillary voters! A pro-life, pro-gun, no sex-education in the schools, crimson red Republican being used to appeal to supporters of Hilary Clinton! Maybe God is a Democrat after all!
Oh no she didn't!
Then, as the weekend was kicking into holiday mode, news hits that Palin’s seventeen year-old daughter is knocked up. Is this heaven? Maybe a video on the birds and bees and couple condoms isn’t such a bad thing after all.

For the record, I believe that this should not be a story. Palin’s daughter should not spend another second under the media’s spotlight. It is however a story from two angles: first, it calls into question John McCain’s political judgment in choosing a first term governor from a small state with virtually no foreign policy experience. Then it is floated that he knew that her daughter was pregnant and chose her anyway. Did he not see how this might undermine the Republican co-op on values and play into the continued monopoly on hypocrisy on values? Within a matter of days, McCain took off the table the ‘Obama is inexperienced’ card and what was left of the family values card.

So now, as hurricane Gustav virtually eliminates the first day of the Republican National Convention, what could go wrong next for the Republicans? One things is for sure: if there is a group that could possibly squander a wealth of political gifts, it’s the Democrats.