Of course he can't win. He's not even fighting for it! Because he's a wussilicious Obambi. And anyway the DemDream candidate loses to the machine Dembot. Or, if one sneaks past the nominating process, he's headed for cautionary tale status via a Republican creaming. Only lame Southern DLCers can win.
His only appeal is to suckers for gauze. Serious lefty people see him for the bland centrist he is. John Edwards is the true progressive candidate, keeping it real with his grit, morals, affinity for the common man and marital fidelity.
Chris Matthews squandered all credibility with his JFK comparisons and the thrill up his leg.
He's too black. He's not black. Black people reject him because he's fake black. Also white people secretly hate him but they don't want you to know. Also Latinos kinda don't like black people, so count them out. He's like way too weird and complicated and Americans need a bland story in red, white and blue tacked to their candidates. And don't count on those *young people* who'll be like oops I was fucking around online and I totally forgot to vote.
Caucuses are undemocratic. They don't count. Also small states. Don't count. He can't win big states like New York and California. He can't compete in crucial battlegrounds like Michigan, Florida, Ohio, Pennsylvania. He can't close the deal. Superdelegates, that's the thing. Superdelegates!
You have to be fucking kidding me. Just in general.
The Rust Belt is the realness. You can't expect to get anywhere with all these fakey rainbow Americans. The Rusty people will be bitter over "bitter." The pantsuit posse will defect. And I mean, I'm not racist, but I'm just saying, like, some people are. You know what I mean.
Fifty-state whategy? Please. Cut it out. Perhaps you've heard of a certain looooser named Howard Dean. Oh yeah, he'll win in the South. Sure. Why not. The skies will open, the light will come down, celestial choirs will be singing and blue paint will spill across this great nation. You just try that. McCain has scars and experience. You can't put this flimsy hoper up against that.
He should be more tough and less celebry and more wonkish and less wonkish and stand up, stand up, stand up and fight. Oh shit, Sarah Palin! That's it. It's over. Sarah Palin and her magic. Biden? Gaffe factory. Sure to ruin shit. And BO-ring. Sarah's got that spark.
And too you know we're a center-right nation, betcha. Those for-reals Americans they don't like the taxing and the socialisting and you know he's not, I'm trying to be nice about this but he's not one of us. I'm not even sure in what way, but he's just not, somehow or other.
He might be ahead because of the financial crisis, but McCain will sweep in and fix that. He might be ahead in the polls, but that doesn't mean...you might not know this, but there's a thing called the Bradley effect. You also might not know about the Republican 36-hour get-out-the-vote machine.
Also, he can't close the deal.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Oakland for Obama II: In Which We Lose Our Shit
*DOUBLE UPDATED*
In the end, it wasn't close.
I hope I'll find the words soon. This was all we could do last night. (Don't miss the video clips.)
Written up here.
In the end, it wasn't close.
I hope I'll find the words soon. This was all we could do last night. (Don't miss the video clips.)
Written up here.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Give the Props Their Propers
I have been in Obama obsession for ten long months, a thrilling but strenuous stretch which I hope will end in bliss one week from today. So single-minded has my focus been that I did not notice until a few days ago that there are some propositions lying around. Several of them concern issues dear to me, like gay rights and chickens and how to get to Anaheim with minimum suffering. So since I can say nothing more about Obama for now, allow me to share with you my proper recommendations.
Prop 1a--Bullet Train
YEAH!
Neato! It's good for the environment! It's an economic stimulus! Let's do it!
If a bullet train offered to take you from SF to LA in three hours, could you possibly say no? Surely not if you've suffered the grueling drive down the 5, feedlot odors wafting through closed windows, arriving at 2am to avoid LA traffic and still not avoiding it. Bullet tickets would be approx cheaper than gas.
Prop 2--Farm Animals
YES, please
Let hardscrabble California layers spread their wings by 2015. So much to ask?
This prop prohibits harsh confinement of farm animals in general, but since we don't have much of a pork or veal industry, the LA Times calls Prop 2 "all about chickens." The more you understand chickens, the sadder it gets to see footage of laying hens squeezed four to a stacked cage. (Those in the bottom cages literally get shit on.) My three hennies have a fifteen square foot coop; any time they have to stay in it all day, bitching and moaning is sure to ensue. They can't imagine the animal despair of birds who can't even flap a wing, never mind parachute off the ramp door across the backyard.
Prop 4--Parental Notification
NO
Preggers teens screwed enough already.
Californians have already voted down parental notification for abortions, in part because critics pointed out that notification could be a bitch for girls from abusive homes. This new version is supposed to answer those critics by allowing young ladies to notify another "adult family member" if their parents are sufficiently mean. Yeah, since every kid from an abusive home has some *cool relative* they can go tell they got pregnant. The "other adult family member" thing would also require the pregnant teen to officially declare her parent(s) abusive. I say she's got enough to worry about.
Prop 8--Outlaw Gay Marriage
NO AND HELL NO
Just equal rights.
Isn't it funny how the prejudiced of any given era are always sure they're not the assholes? Were white people in Alabama in the fifties like, Yes, I'm racist, I want to deny black people their civil rights. No, they were like, Separate but equal! We don't have anything against black people! We just think certain customary norms should remain in place, is all. Likewise, those waving signs for Prop 8 at the Fruitvale 580 exit seem totally sure they're just abiding tradition and religion. Memo to them: It never feels like you're the bigot future generations will disdain.
Props 7 and 10 are fakey environmental props, so no thanks.
Prop 1a--Bullet Train
YEAH!
Neato! It's good for the environment! It's an economic stimulus! Let's do it!
If a bullet train offered to take you from SF to LA in three hours, could you possibly say no? Surely not if you've suffered the grueling drive down the 5, feedlot odors wafting through closed windows, arriving at 2am to avoid LA traffic and still not avoiding it. Bullet tickets would be approx cheaper than gas.
Prop 2--Farm Animals
YES, please
Let hardscrabble California layers spread their wings by 2015. So much to ask?
This prop prohibits harsh confinement of farm animals in general, but since we don't have much of a pork or veal industry, the LA Times calls Prop 2 "all about chickens." The more you understand chickens, the sadder it gets to see footage of laying hens squeezed four to a stacked cage. (Those in the bottom cages literally get shit on.) My three hennies have a fifteen square foot coop; any time they have to stay in it all day, bitching and moaning is sure to ensue. They can't imagine the animal despair of birds who can't even flap a wing, never mind parachute off the ramp door across the backyard.
Prop 4--Parental Notification
NO
Preggers teens screwed enough already.
Californians have already voted down parental notification for abortions, in part because critics pointed out that notification could be a bitch for girls from abusive homes. This new version is supposed to answer those critics by allowing young ladies to notify another "adult family member" if their parents are sufficiently mean. Yeah, since every kid from an abusive home has some *cool relative* they can go tell they got pregnant. The "other adult family member" thing would also require the pregnant teen to officially declare her parent(s) abusive. I say she's got enough to worry about.
Prop 8--Outlaw Gay Marriage
NO AND HELL NO
Just equal rights.
Isn't it funny how the prejudiced of any given era are always sure they're not the assholes? Were white people in Alabama in the fifties like, Yes, I'm racist, I want to deny black people their civil rights. No, they were like, Separate but equal! We don't have anything against black people! We just think certain customary norms should remain in place, is all. Likewise, those waving signs for Prop 8 at the Fruitvale 580 exit seem totally sure they're just abiding tradition and religion. Memo to them: It never feels like you're the bigot future generations will disdain.
Props 7 and 10 are fakey environmental props, so no thanks.
Friday, October 24, 2008
He May Be a Dictator, But He's Our Dictator
Nothing turns on the Walnut (our little Musharraf) like fresh laundry and a snapping camera.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
90% of Me Is Cable News
(with apologies to Gwen McCrae)
How can I do the things I wanna do
When 90% of me
Is cable news
My heart no longer does what I want it to
Because 90% of me
Is cable news
I want to hear Gene Robinson's baritone
Without gettin weak in the knees
And look Gergen in the eyes
Without swooning like that chick Jessi
I wanna be the kind of viewer
Who knows how to use
My snazzy Comcast remote
To end these cable blues
How can I do the things I wanna do
When 90% of me
Is cable news
My heart no longer does what I want it to
Because 90% of me
Is cable news
Norah O'Donnell's perky
Campbell Brown is too
But Candy Crowley reassures me
Reporters can be uncute
Maddow she's infectious
But my best pundit's always Chris
I never thought it possible
That I could be controlled like this
How can I do the things I wanna do
When 90% of me, baby
Is cable news
My heart no longer does what I want it to
(You know why!)
Because 90% of me
Is cable news
How can I do the things I wanna do
When 90% of me
Is cable news
My heart no longer does what I want it to
Because 90% of me
Is cable news
I want to hear Gene Robinson's baritone
Without gettin weak in the knees
And look Gergen in the eyes
Without swooning like that chick Jessi
I wanna be the kind of viewer
Who knows how to use
My snazzy Comcast remote
To end these cable blues
How can I do the things I wanna do
When 90% of me
Is cable news
My heart no longer does what I want it to
Because 90% of me
Is cable news
Norah O'Donnell's perky
Campbell Brown is too
But Candy Crowley reassures me
Reporters can be uncute
Maddow she's infectious
But my best pundit's always Chris
I never thought it possible
That I could be controlled like this
How can I do the things I wanna do
When 90% of me, baby
Is cable news
My heart no longer does what I want it to
(You know why!)
Because 90% of me
Is cable news
Friday, October 17, 2008
In Which I Meander Aimlessly
I'm too scattered at the mo for a solid-topic post. For one thing, the election is near and for another, I'm being asked to 'do things' during my afternoon serenity time, aka my reception job. So that sucks. How's a girl to plog?
Even with Obama ahead, I'm plagued by fears. But my fears about the election are trite. Let me share with you another fear: that "Love Lockdown" will worm its way into my heart. When Mr. West rolled it out last month, "Love Lockdown" was generally agreed to be a debacle. Kanye's singing was ear-splitting, the beat was a woeful rough draft--even Auto-Tune threw up its hands in despair. After humiliating himself at the VMAs, Yeezy was supposedly 'working on it,' but the radio release was no better. We all laughed schaudenfreudistically. The mighty shall fall. But I fear that Kanye, in his beat-making all-knowingness, has put one over on us. That weeks from now we'll all have to admit that it's good after all. That fear is nourished by the fact that "Love Lockdown" is in my head right now.
Paulie James Walnuts III had his final vet follow-up (following up on his recent brush with death) this morning and he's in excellent form. But we knew he was better when he resumed being a total dick and paragon of self-involvement. The other day, I got him purring just by taking a long series of photographs while he moved from one sultry pose to the next. And that's not personification; it really happened. Results of the photoshoot to come. I'll promise you some pix of the chickens and harvest pr0n while I'm at it.
I'm in a weird frozen state vis-a-vis the election. Maybe I hope that if I just freeze and don't think about anything too much, the rest of the world will also freeze and we'll defrost on November 5th in a deep blue map ocean.
Also, Lupe Fiasco has finally decided to get over himself and spare a verse for an Obama-ey song.
Even with Obama ahead, I'm plagued by fears. But my fears about the election are trite. Let me share with you another fear: that "Love Lockdown" will worm its way into my heart. When Mr. West rolled it out last month, "Love Lockdown" was generally agreed to be a debacle. Kanye's singing was ear-splitting, the beat was a woeful rough draft--even Auto-Tune threw up its hands in despair. After humiliating himself at the VMAs, Yeezy was supposedly 'working on it,' but the radio release was no better. We all laughed schaudenfreudistically. The mighty shall fall. But I fear that Kanye, in his beat-making all-knowingness, has put one over on us. That weeks from now we'll all have to admit that it's good after all. That fear is nourished by the fact that "Love Lockdown" is in my head right now.
Paulie James Walnuts III had his final vet follow-up (following up on his recent brush with death) this morning and he's in excellent form. But we knew he was better when he resumed being a total dick and paragon of self-involvement. The other day, I got him purring just by taking a long series of photographs while he moved from one sultry pose to the next. And that's not personification; it really happened. Results of the photoshoot to come. I'll promise you some pix of the chickens and harvest pr0n while I'm at it.
I'm in a weird frozen state vis-a-vis the election. Maybe I hope that if I just freeze and don't think about anything too much, the rest of the world will also freeze and we'll defrost on November 5th in a deep blue map ocean.
Also, Lupe Fiasco has finally decided to get over himself and spare a verse for an Obama-ey song.
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