Beards

CAN YOU find the bearded rapper among the bearded economists? (Don't be racist!) And can you name all five?


BONUS QUESTIONS:
1. Which beard won the Nobel Prize this week?
2. Which beard, if any, is a gentile? (If you think Jews are money-changers, that's anti-Semitic!)

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Anderson Cooper Lets ME Decide?

Really, Anderson? Me? Wittle ol me?

Run the concept by me one more time. Okay, you're going to give me the facts. Got it. And then--I'm on my own? Your gentle eyes are telling me I can do it. I can make up my own mind.

Are you sure you want to trust me with this awesome responsibility? I may not be the brightest bulb in the--really? Okay. Your faith in my ability to judge makes me feel so...big. You respect me; I can respect myself.

I get it. You trust me. Your compassionate face telegraphs that trust. You believe it is your job to furnish me with information, and that we share a sacred pact as reporter and reportee. That pact demands that I reach my own conclusions. Yeah. I get it. It's beautiful.

You're not an opinionater like some other people on some other networks. You're not going to *talk down* to me and *hand down opinions* like proclamations from on high. That's so belittling. Our relationship is much richer and more real. It digs deeper than that.

Wait, Anderson. Anderson. I said I get it. I totally get it. You're going to report, I'm going to decide. We settled this, I'm into it. Anderson, please: you're saying "Let viewers make up their own minds" as often as "Digging Deeper" and "Best Political Team on TV". Oh my god, is this a thing? Is objectivity the new CNN brand?

I...Wow. I thought you believed in me. I thought we had something.

You know what, I don't need your "Make up your own mind"® any more than your smoldering glances or your on-assignment gay shirt. I've made up my mind. I'm leaving for Jim Lehrer. Shit, he's not on. Or Keith Olbermann, he confirms my beliefs. Oh wait I can't fucking stand him. Okay, AC Slater, I'm staying for tonight. But this is temporary because it is so over. I mean it this time.

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It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like February

Remember last February when Obama won the Virgin Islands primary by damn near 100% and then took Nebraska and Louisiana and Washington and Maine (that other lady was supposed to win Maine; remember her?), dominated the Potomac Primaries, killed it in Hawaii and made Wisconsin the cherry on top? There was a lot of bullshitting about superdelegates and big states, but a still, small voice began to tell me he was winning.

It was wonderful. It was terrifying. Because that was when my hopes really started to get themselves up. That was when my horserace-news addiction became crippling.

And here we are again. He's plainly ahead and they're running out of field. As then, the terror abides--because deargod, if he loses now. (It will be my fault, first of all, for the useless plogging and cable news consumption, time stolen from hypothetical activist campaign pursuits.)

But I'm only emphasizing the fears because of yet another fear: that I'll look like a jackass later if he loses. Of course, Obama knows better than anyone the dangerous dance of hope and fear. And now I sound like a jackass already, so what do I have to fear.

February was when the Obama campaign strategists started to look like geniuses and Hillary Clinton's campaign was caught with its thumb up its ass. And now? Remember all the chortling a month ago about how the "new map" is the same as the old map and the fifty state strategy is naive and he might as well pull out of North Carolina too? Haven't heard that in a few. He is inching ahead in the Stamey's Barbecue State. That irritating buzzing noise from everyone giving Obama stupid advice has gotten a lot quieter.

The accepted narrative is that it's all about the economic shitstorm, but I don't fully buy it. Obama's greater personal appeal, his calm presidential demeanor, his not being a Republican at a time when we're cowering in a collective national fetal position after eight years of Republican funtimes had to matter eventually. Not to mention his campaign's superior ground tactics. Or their superior (which is to say existent) overall strategy. And hell yeah he knows the difference.

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Palin With Pizza, Yum

I better say what I have to say about Sarah Palin now, because the narrative could easily change at the debate tonight. (Watching it at the Parkway with pizza, I hope.)

First, I can't stay focused on how "dangerous she is for this country" now that Obama's back up in the polls. That's partly because it's hard to take her seriously--the Dubya Paradox--and partly because she's such a great character. For maximum clarity, I'm not saying she has character, but that she is one. Taken together, the moose-hunting, the beauty pageants, the First Dude on his champion "snow machine," the preggers daughter, the son off to war, the Down Syndrome baby half-birthed on a plane, the updo and glasses "pr0n secretary" look (which I'm sporting for debate day), the readily-imitable voice, the religious nuttery--it's just so rich.

Second, I think the McCain campaign was mistaken in thinking a woman in politics could get away with being transparently dumb. Women have to pass a higher threshhold to be taken seriously. (As a black person, Barack Obama does too, but he's such a superbrain that it's a nonissue and we forget all about it.) George Bush, in the early years, used masculine swagger to make up the deficit in confidence created by his obvious dumbness. Palin isn't getting off so easy.

Incidentally, I saw clips from a 2000 Bush speech and was astonished at the difference between then and now. The man is a dehydrated water balloon. It's hard to remember how virile and scary he once seemed. As with Palin, as soon as they become cowering and meek instead of pathetic but powerful, you almost want to pity them. But then you just tell that to some baby boomer and they'll be more than happy to scold you on how dangerous ruining this country right wing nuts believe dinosaurs caused global warming and so forth.

And to all those who made contribs to Planned Parenthood in Palin's name, I'd like to thank you for my delightful pap last week.

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Zogt Dein Bubbe: Votn Obama!

Shanah Tovah! This is timely, from my imaginary cousin Sarah:

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It's Wayne's World*

*and I don't mind living in it

Lil' Wayne is now king of all things. Let's make it official. If it wasn't obvious when four radio songs out of five featured everyone's favorite "tatted up gargoyle mess" then surely it was obvious when he ruled the VMAs to the point of leaping onstage with Kid Rock. (Kanye-who? with the regrettable singing and carnival trinket light-up heart pinned to his chest?)

I'm happy with this state of affairs. Most happy. Usually when someone dominates the airwaves and the ether this much it's a lamebutt like T-Pain. Weezy may be a "syrup-addled libertine," but he's also--relatedly?--an artiste. And a great pop star. Anyone whose resistance held up to the "Lollipop" onslaught was surely felled by "A Milli."

I think the finest specimen to come out of the Wayne surge is "Mr. Carter," a glory lap featuring Jay-Z (because they have the same last name: love it!) Wayne does some good scratchy mumbling at the beginning, at which time he says he feels big, "like colossal." Which is apt. And he goes on to say how the seasons are hating on him:

Man, I got Summer hating on me cause I'm hotter than the sun
Got Spring hating on me cause I ain't never sprung
Winter hating on me cause I'm colder than ya'll
And I would never, I would never, I would never Fall

This song also made me sit up and say, Wait, when did I start liking, not just tolerating, Jay-Z? Maybe he plays well as the graybeard veteran. On "Mr. Carter" his winning verse is Young Carter, go farther, go further, go harder/Is that not why we came and if not then why bother? Next time I'm about to hit "publish" on a shit draft of a plog post, I'll remember that.

This whole Wayne-mania also reminds me of how much I like to consume mainstream culture. To some extent, sure, one wants independence of mind, but it's no fun to be off on your own living a life of purity. I do take to heart the bumper sticker admonition to 'Be the change you want to see in the world.' (Indeed, I dutifully obey all bumper sticker mandates, which, living in the Bay Area, makes me a busy gal.) But I also like to 'Be the world I actually see around me.' (Hey, that's cumbersome and stupid enough to be on a bumper sticker.)

It gives me a warm feeling inside to know that millions of my fellow Americans are listening to "Lollipop" right now, because--I like it too! Deride pop culture all you want, but at least we have that kinship. When it's Lil' Wayne and Barack Obama that we get to be collectively into, count us lucky.

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UPDATE Thursday 9/25, 4:08pm
P Kitty seems to be recovering. By my count he still has six lives left.

ORIGINAL POST Tuesday 9/23, 2:03pm
Might be quiet on the plog this week. Little Paulie Walnuts, beloved kitty muse, is very ill. I can't concentrate on the usual semi-trivialities. My heart is with my self-mythologizing, multiply monikered, Log Cabin Obamican cat. It's tooney for life if you want it, Walnuts. Just hang in there.

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