Showing posts with label Indiana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Indiana. Show all posts

Friday, December 23, 2016

I'm out! See you at spring training next year.




I got nailed in the great p3 “Little Drummer Boy” challenge last night, Thursday the 22nd, at 8:30pm, with two days and a threee-plus hours before the deadline. It's one of my best non-winning scores.

oh, who am I kidding? I didn't have a “best non-winning score;” I lost. Period.  Rules are rules. I have to wait until next year to try again. I'll be ready.

I got caught by the host at pub trivia, who played the Pentatonic cover of the dreary holiday classic in question between rounds. Ironically, I had a near miss about an hour earlier when he played the Bowie/Crosby 1972 cover. After that one came and went, I breathed a sigh of relief, since that version is specifically exempted under Rule 3b. Obviously, that was a bit presumptuous of me.  Still, as Commissioner; I have to set an example.

Several worthies have already gone out (and there's certainly no shame in that); at least one from outside the US. The International “Little Drummer Boy” Commission thanks them for making the competition all that it is by taking part. And at least three friends remain in the running, two of them back in the state of my birth (if not the state that I'm from); good luck to you all. May the odds be ever in your favor.


I'll join you back here at 12:01am, Friday, November 24, 2017, when next year's games begin.

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Ah, the Hoosier state, where Republicans fail upwards

(Updated below.)

 Wow. So it's going to be Pence.  Proud son of the state where I was born, although not the state I'm from.

Not sure why Trump would pick him, but it's his business. Maybe the Short-Fingered Vulgarian needed someone to put a happy face on bigotry, misogyny, and corporate fascism. I never thought that Gingrich had much of a chance -- Trump would never allow another ego that big on the same stage with him. And the same, probably, for Christie, with the added fact that Trump might be smart enough to know he could never turn his back on him.

Or maybe, as Trump himself said not long ago, he wants a Veep with executive and legislative experience (however dubious the outcome) running all the day-to-day business of the last superpower, while he . . . does whatever he'll do. maybe. Thinking up smart, big ideas that people will love. Continuing his twitter war with Elizabeth Warren, Whatever.

From Pence's side it's probably easier to explain: He can't go back the House, really; Evan Bayh just bigfooted the hell out of the Senate race; and after last year's Religious Freedom Restoration Act debacle, he's polling within the margin of error for re-election as governor in a very red state.  If he still wants to be a Name (for anything other than sending back a steak) in 2020, he needs to stay at least somewhat visible  (Does Pence want to run in 2020? Of course he does. Name me one GOP governor, congressional rep, or senator who didn't look at the 2016 primary and think, "Hey, maybe I've got a shot here.") Apparently being remembered as the Sarah Palin (or perhaps the Dan Quayle) of 2016 will do it, in his mind.

So he'll be scheduled for Wednesday night of the convention, after the Florida AG who ended her investigation of Trump U after she got a considerable contribution check from a Trump charity, followed by an astronaut, a golfer who Trump once fired on Celebrity Apprentice, and Newt Gingrich and Ted Cruz. I think I detect a theme here: I'll take Losers who Will Crawl on Their Bellies for Me for $200, Alec.  (I just can't figure out what the astronaut did wrong to get this gig.*)

Good luck with all that, Governor Pence.

*Update 7/21/2016: Eileen Collins, all is forgiven.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Forget about a federal Election Day holiday – go with the Oregon model

(It's primary election day in Oregon. If you haven't voted, you've got until 8pm to turn your ballot in. Postmarks don't count. And remember to sign the envelope.)


A couple of weeks ago, President Obama floated the idea of making Election Day a federal holiday, or perhaps moving it to the weekend, as a way of increasing voter participation.

Obama's idea was enthusiastically endorsed by Charlie Pierce, a fellow we like around here quite a lot:
The president just had the best idea he's ever had as president.

His determination to play all four quarters of the game he's in has led him to the obvious conclusion that national election days should be national holidays. This is like a blast of cool, fresh air in a system that's been clogged ever since John Roberts declared the Day of Jubilee. Until we re-establish voting rights for everyone as a national priority, and blow up the fiction of widespread voter fraud, which always was simply an alibi, the only alternative left is to overwhelm the polls. And the only way to do that is to make sure that people have fewer excuses to shirk their duties at the polls.

People have to get habituated to voting again. This is one easy way to do it.

If one disagrees with either of these worthies – whose hearts, let us immediately stipulate, are in the right place on this – one rolls one's own dice. But I do disagree, and pretty strongly. A federal holiday for Election Day (or moving it to the weekend) misses the point. The problem is hardly that Americans are yearning for more time to participate in the Norman Rockwellesque living tableau of exercising their freedom to vote.

Consider the status quo, where Republican-controlled statehouses, encouraged and abetted by the Roberts Court, are ever on the lookout for innovative ways – as well as tried-and-true favorites from the days of Jim Crow – to suppress voting by the wrong people, such as making them stand in line for hours at a polling place, perhaps only to find out that it had mysteriously run out of Democratic ballots, or had been deliberately understaffed, or moved to the far side of town, or closed altogether, or required some form of ID that was expensive if not completely unobtainable. And that's if they haven't had their names struck from the rolls by some bureaucratic error (always an "error;" never a "purge.")

All that a federal holiday for Election Day would accomplish is letting them draw holiday pay for the experience, rather than having to take the day off on their own nickle. I suppose that's an improvement, but not much of one. It certainly doesn't do anything to get at the basic problem, which is that one of our two political parties has vote suppression baked into its basic electoral strategy.

Here is how it's done in Oregon (and in the interview linked to above, Obama does mention Oregon – once):

First, you're automatically registered as a voter when you apply for or renew your Oregon driver's license, unless you specifically opt out. By default you'll be registered as a non-affiliated voter, but you'll get a card in the mail allowing you to declare a party preference within 21 days. (All of these choices can be reversed or changed later.)

But the purpose of the motor voter law and online voter registration is simply to make one more route to registration available. It's not that you have to have a driver's licence to vote in Oregon, it's that if you're getting a license anyway you get brought into the system automatically. If you register by mail or in person at the local county elections office, you can use a current driver's license or an expired license, or a utility bill, a bank statement, a paycheck stub, or a couple of other forms of acceptable ID.

At any time after you register, you can verify your registration online.

Then, about three or four weeks before the next election, you'll receive a copy of the Oregon Voters Guide in the mail from the Secretary of State's office. It's also available online.

And about a week later, you'll get your mail-in ballot. All you have to do is complete it, sign the inner security envelope it goes in, and mail it back or drop it off at a local ballot drop-off point. (I traditionally go to my local public library, about five or six blocks from here.) You can wait until the last moment to drop off your ballot, but if you mail it, it has to arrive at the elections office by 8pm on election Tuesday (postmarks don't count), so you need to put it in the mail by Friday or Saturday to be sure.

That's it. You can also check online to make sure your ballot has been received. (They got mine on the 4th.)

At worst, you may have to make a trip to your local library for an online connection, or hook a ride to the county elections office, but that's it. You certainly won't have to stand in line in for hours or jump through ridiculous administrative hoops to provide documentation.

Is Oregon's system perfected? Nope.

If you don't have easy access to the internet, or readily available transportation, you've still got a couple of hurdles to get over to register and vote. Not usually insurmountable hurdles, but hurdles all the same.

Some Oregon voters got left out of this month's primary because they never returned the card stating their party preference, or returned it too late.

And as an election observer, I've watched fellow observers from the other party try to game the system by challenging signatures that were Hispanic names. (The mechanics are that ballots come in, a worker scans the bar code on the outer envelope and compares the signature on the envelope to the digital image they have on file; the scan also records the ballot receipt in the registry database so that you can't submit more than one ballot. If they don't match or there's no signature, the ballot is pulled for review. If they match, the safety envelopes are sorted by precinct and stored until the polls close.* In the case of those over-eager anti-Hispanic observers, who were leaning over the shoulders of the workers the better to interfere, a call from the lawyers the county Democrats had on tap that day put an end to their harassment.)

And two right-wing PACs appear to behind the forged election materials purporting to be from the Secretary of State's office in a local race.

And finally – this one I'm not quite sure what to make of yet – while Oregon's system has added tens of thousands of new voters since motor voter came online in January, as of last Friday only 25% of Oregonians had cast their ballots. (Interestingly, the last time Oregon saw a surge in new-voter registration, it was in 2008, driven in large part by DNC chair Howard Dean's "fifty state strategy." Once Obama was in office, of course, Dean was replaced and his strategy followed him out the door.) So while I don't think Americans are longing for the pagentry of filling out their ballot behind the curtain at the local grade school, there's the argument to be made that voters don't seem to be terribly motivated. And there are a lot of possible reasons for that; I just don't think that not getting the day off to vote is one of them. If it turned out that registered voters aren't motivated to participate in a system that already makes voting only a little harder than ordering a book from Amazon, it's not immediately clear why they would use a paid holiday to go to the polls, instead of simply taking the day off.

So there's room for improvement. But note that none of these problems would be affected in any way by making Election Day a federal holiday. 

A friend in Indiana sent me this description of his voting experience earlier this month:
In Indiana you can vote for either party in the primary but you must declare which ballot you want to get. I "early" voted last Friday to avoid the lines today, and I had to go to either the Payless Grocery store or the Board of Elections. I chose the Board of Elections. I drove through three construction zones, parked on the city street, walked six blocks, and found myself in the belly of the former J.C. Penney building now converted to a county government office. Up three flights and into an office – where there were two workers and not a single other would-be voter. Wonder why.

I asked for a Democrat ballot and I may have imagined it but I swear to you the young woman working there gave it a sort of mildly confused "humpf" in the "well I'll be damned" spirit. I felt like it was one of those "I must have some of that here somewhere....let me look...oh, yes, here it is..." Perhaps I read too much into her shuffling of papers and voting cards.

I had to present a "photo I.D." approved by the state. I had to orally confirm my birth date. I had to sign a book that confirmed my address. I had to sign my name on a screen and she compared it to the signature in the book, which I had just signed five seconds before. I had to orally confirm my address. I had to sign that I wanted a Democrat ballot.

She programmed the thingy, I put it in the machine, and there were only two races that were contested. That's right: the Democrats had managed to get only two offices (that includes Bernie and Hillary) for which voting choice could be exercised. (Republicans will win both of those in the general election, so I get the reluctance to play the game). Voting did not take long.
So I get it: Even for someone as smart as my friend, and with the resources to work the system correctly that he has, the act of voting – and not just voting in Indiana – is often a dispiriting undertaking. It can take a certain amount of bloody-mindedness even to bother. I don't see how moving his experience to a Saturday would help that.

And likewise, a federal holiday wouldn't do anything to prevent the determined gaming of the system by Republican legislatures, who start by making it harder for the wrong people to register, continue by removing any certainty that once they're registered they'll stay registered, and finish up by making it needlessly difficult to turn in their ballot and uncertain it's getting counted.

At each of those points along the way, Oregon has made registering and voting easier and more accessible. And the ballots are secure, meaning that the right-wing canard about voter fraud is not a plausible objection.

So my advice to President Obama is to forget the federal election holiday plan, if that was ever anything more than blue-skying on his part, and throw his weight behind voting by mail and motor-voter laws.

As readers of this blog know, I've lost patience on more than one occasion with Ron Wyden, but our senior Senator is right on the money here.
“My home state of Oregon has led the nation in making voting more accessible. No one has to take time off work just to exercise his or her constitutional rights,” Wyden said. “My proposition is the rest of our country should follow Oregon’s lead and offer all voters a chance to vote by mail.” [...] “Across the country, there are stories of long lines, inexplicable purges of voter rolls and new requirements that make it harder for citizens to vote. There is no excuse for accepting this state of affairs,” Wyden said. “There is no excuse for citizens in Arizona to wait five hours to cast their ballot. There is no excuse for citizens in Rhode Island to find two out of every three polling places have closed. There is no excuse whatsoever for poor communities and minority communities across this country to see their polling places shuttered.”

Of course, the party that is bringing us back the glory days of Jim Crow will fight this hammer and tong; after all, if you make it easier for the wrong people vote, the next thing that's bound to happen is that they'll be out there voting for the wrong things. But if we're going to have a knock-down-drag-out fight, let's at least have a fight over a proposal that would actually change things for the better.

____________

*Tip of the p3 hat to Ron Morgan of the Washington County Democrats office for walking me through the ballot-handling procedure, which I haven't witnessed first-hand in some time.)

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Sunday morning toons: Better to lose in a landslide in Hell than to win in . . . wait, how does that go again?


John Boehner's announcement this week that Ted Cruz is Lucifer was eminently click-worthy, but it was such a fat pitch that it didn't really bring out the most imaginative in a lot of political cartoonists this week. If you simply restated the Other Orange One's point, you probably didn't make the cut this week. If you took it in a different direction, you may very well have slipped in under the wire. And if you captured the Evil One's outrage at the comparison, you might well have ended up with a p3 Certificate of Harmonic Toon Convergence. And if you found a completely different direction to take it, you most likely received the p3 Legion of Merit Award.

And almost every cartoonist has already shot their bolt on the trans-restroom issue, so you won't see much of that today.

One of my sisters (who lives in Indiana and had the two-fold horror last week of Ted Cruz mangling Hoosier basketball history alongside Bobby Knight stumping with the Short-Fingered Vulgarian) said to me on the phone last week, and you could hear the mix of exasperation and astonishment in her voice, that the upcoming primary there "has turned me into a liberal." I could only express my sympathy, as somone who was born with that affliction and has only watched it get worse over the years.

My vote-by-mail ballot arrived yesterday, and although I haven't had the chance to sit down with it and my voter's guide (and a cup of tea) yet, there's one thing I know I'll be voting for: Washington County Emergency Communications System Bond Measure 34-243. Fortunately, Washington County is trying to get ahead of the problem, which distinguishes it from San Diego, where they're already way behind the curve, as Steve Breen notes.

Today's toons were selected by a panel of unemployed former NCAA basketball coaches from the week's offerings at McClatchy DC, Cartoon Movement, Go Comics, Politico's Cartoon Gallery, Daryl Cagle's Political Cartoons, About.com, and other fine sources of toony goodness.


p3 Best of Show: Joel Pett.

p3 Legion of Merit: Steve Sack.

p3 Award for Best Adaptation from Another Medium: Chan Lowe.

p3 Certificate of Harmonic Toon Convergence: Jeff Danziger and Jerry Holbert.


Ann Telnaes notes another Last Time for Obama experience. (And there's an interesting rumor circulating that Obama, despite his claim that the Republican party, not Obama himself, is to blame for Trump's presence in the 2016 race, may have had some non-trivial part to play in the Slo-Mo Exploding Citrus's decision to enter the contest this time.) And while we're at it, here's a story about yet another Last Time moment this week.

Mark Fiore walks us through the math. (Although, as Booman points out, primaries have little to do with democracy and nothing to do with anyone's constitutional rights.)


Come for Tom Tomorrow's ongoing take on the Marvel Comics presidential nominee presumptive, but stay for the fiendishly clever Democratic National Committee plan to rein him in.

Reuben Bolling shows that the difference between "skeptic" and "septic" is more than just a missing letter.

Red Meat's Wally learns the limits of self-improvement.


The Comic Curmudgeon is too kind – seriously – to a genuinely creepy Archie strip.

Comic Strip of the Day meditates on the traps and triumphs of nuance.


It was on the east side of New York, where my parents resided amid humble surroundings. In belated celebration of Arbor Day, which was two days ago (the last Friday in April), p3 proudly presents Bugs Bunny in "A Hare Grows in Manhattan," another short in which he describes his formative years for an interviewer. Directed in 1947 by Friz Freleng from a story by Michael Maltese and Tedd Pierce, it features Portland's Own Mel Blanc voicing the titular hare, with Bea "Betty Rubble" Benaderet doing an uncredited turn as Lola Beverly, along with writers Maltese and Pierce as the two tough-guy dogs. I have no idea why musical director Carl Stalling, of the p3 pantheon of gods, kicked off the music for the title with a bar of "Mary Had a Little Lamb," but the segue into "The Daughter of Rosie O'Grady" previews the grown Bugs' theme as he tap-dances down the street.





The Adequately Sized Oregon Toon Block:

Ex-Oregonian Jack Ohman pays grudging respect to the Short-Fingered Vulgarian's resume.

Documented Ex-Oregonian Jen Sorensen imagines a future that's not so far away, and in its own vaguely dystopian way is not the worst thing that could happen.

Matt Bors bestows the Blind Squirrel Finding An Acorn award on the Short-Fingerred Vulgarian.

Jesse Springer trains his glasses on the Oregon primary, which is only a little over two weeks away. I imagine that it will be all over but the shouting by then, for both parties. Of course, the whole Hillary and superdelegates thing isn't that "rare," really – we went through it in 2008, the most recent contested Democratic primary and first time the Oregon primary even theoretically mattered since 1988 (when the Beaver State Democrats went for Hart).



Test your toon-captioning mojo at The New Yorker's weekly caption-the-cartoon contest. (Rules here.) And you can browse The New Yorker's cartoon gallery here.



Saturday, April 11, 2015

"Kurt is up in Heaven now."

Kurt Vonnegut died eight years ago today. p3 is proud to honor his final request.
I am, incidentally, Honorary President of the American Humanist Association, having succeeded the late, great science fiction writer Isaac Asimov in that totally functionless capacity. We had a memorial service for Isaac a few years back, and I spoke and said at one point, "Isaac is up in heaven now." It was the funniest thing I could have said to an audience of humanists. I rolled them in the aisles. It was several minutes before order could be restored. And if I should ever die, God forbid, I hope you will say, "Kurt is up in Heaven now." That's my favorite joke.

Kurt Vonnegut,

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

The unforgiving minute: Economic backlash concentrates the mind wonderfully

Well, the – Indianapolis Star -- no haven for candy-assed liberalism, let the reader be assured – has weighed in prominently on the debacle following passage and signing of Indiana's anti-LGBTQ law earlier this month.

And yet, and yet, and yet . . . Where was the equally bold front page "STOP THIS NOW" message when the law was first proposed by legislators who candidly admitted its discriminatory purpose, or as it was working its way through the legislative process, or when it came up for a final vote (where it won handily on party-line votes, 40-10 in the Senate and 63-31 in the House)? Nowhere to be found, that's where.

I imagine the Star was caught by surprise by the commercial and media backlash the law triggered, just as the bill's proponents and the governor were. Sure, the instigators knew enough not to parade their success – key homophobes joined the governor for a "private" signing ceremony. But the Star, unlike the somewhat challenged Governor Pence, was apparently quicker to see which side its bread is buttered on: Indiana's economy isn't in great shape anyway, and boycotts and high-profile pullouts, as long as they continue anyway, mean less money from advertising. Hence the editors now find themselves shocked – shocked! – to find legislated homophobia going on in their state!

Minute's up.

Thursday, March 5, 2015

A quantum of umbrage: Boiled eggs, 60-watt light bulbs, and the lonely death of Swiftian irony

It is allowed on all hands, that the primitive way of breaking eggs, before we eat them, was upon the larger end; but his present majesty’s grandfather, while he was a boy, going to eat an egg, and breaking it according to the ancient practice, happened to cut one of his fingers. Whereupon the emperor his father published an edict, commanding all his subjects, upon great penalties, to break the smaller end of their eggs. The people so highly resented this law, that our histories tell us, there have been six rebellions raised on that account; wherein one emperor lost his life, and another his crown.

Jonathan Swift,
(1726), Chapter IV
One of the things that amazed and amused me when, years ago, I left Indiana (the state where I was born but not the state that I'm from) to live first on the east coast (Philadelphia) and later and longer on the west coast (Portland and thereabouts), was the vehement reaction of many non-midwesterners to Miracle Whip. A reaction not simply to its taste, although that's certainly a part of it, but often to its very existence.

(For those who haven't taken the plunge, Miracle Whip looks similar to ordinary off-the-grocer's-shelf mayonnaise and is typically marketed in a similar-shaped jar on the same grocery aisle. Without knowing the recipe specifics beyond oil, vinegar, and eggs, I would generally say that they have the same texture but Miracle Whip is somewhat sweeter and generic mayonnaise is slightly off-white in color. I suppose the best analogy, culturally and gustatorially speaking, would be that Miracle Whip is to generic mayonnaise as sweet pickles are to dill pickles.)

I bring this up because I stumbled upon an amusing video on YouTube, in which pairs of west-coasters were invited to sample various mainstays of Indiana cuisine: Sweet pickles, fried cornmeal mush (one fellow makes his happy peace with that one by renaming it "Indiana Tortilla Sticks") sugar cream pie, yet another variety of sweet pickle with which I am unfamiliar, and a (suspiciously un-Hoosier looking) pork tenderloin sandwich (the meat is too thick, it doesn't stick out the edge of the bun enough, the breading is too dark, and what's all that healthy vegetable stuff doing on it?).

The video is the product of a real estate enterprise and appears intended to soften up young prospective home-buyers from California on the idea that moving to Indiana wouldn't necessarily be the worst possible thing that could happen to them. (There are similar videos for Ohio and Michigan.) I imagine the logic is that young buyers, priced completely out of the California homeowners' market, might find it easier to bite the bullet and buy a starter home in the Rust Belt – assuming they could deal with the local dietary customs.


At this point, I must make a confession. Among my favorite Facebook friends are some who can be trolled into making utterly predictable responses at the drop of a hat, or the click of a Post button, given the right topic or the right way of framing it. They simply can't resist. I don't do it often, but sometimes I put things out there just for grins and giggles, and note the time. I posted the Indiana Food Taste Test video, with this status line:
Interesting, but they ducked the most important theological debate of our age: Mayonnaise versus Miracle Whip. Nations have gone to war over this.
Yes, it was click-bait. I admit it. But I held the hope that the mention of both theology and war on such a silly culinary topic was such an obvious Swiftian nudge-nudge-wink-wink, that most people who responded, getting the joke, would take it up in much the same spirit. (So I suppose I thought that made it good click-bait.) Nevertheless, I noted the time I posted it. No, I'm not entirely proud of this, but you probably have amusements you'd rather other people didn't know about, too.

It took eleven minutes – or slightly less time than it takes to make two soft-boiled eggs with yolks that are just beginning to set – for someone to denounce Miracle Whip as not only not a food, but perhaps not even a food product.

This claim, as with many theological arguments, is really founded on an ontological category error, i.e.: Miracle Whip resembles generic mayonnaise, but it isn't, so it shouldn't exist. One might as well say the same thing about ranch dressing and bleu cheese dressing, or Bosc pears and 60-watt light bulbs.

I just find that odd. Even in Indiana, everyone knows the difference between the two products, and in a lifetime of eating Indiana food I don't believe I've ever been served Miracle Whip on a restaurant sandwich. You only end up ingesting it if you intended to.

Sitting at my elbow as I write this is a Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. My taste for it is probably a function of time and class and culture, as much so as with some of the other foods under discussion. (Plus, I imagine, a soupçon of simple brand-selection laziness.) And over the years I have gotten the stink-eye from many of my craft-beer enthusiast friends when I order a PBR (the idea that I might not want a hint of blueberry finish in my beer never seems worth serious discussion). The same often happens when I mention to my Mayonnaise Orthodox friends that I have eaten Miracle Whip (it tastes far better on a peanut butter sandwich than generic mayonnaise ever will, if you want to know) and have lived to tell the tale – as well as every suspect item on that video's menu, plus chicken livers, and beef liver and onions. And tuna casserole, and marshmallow fruit salad.

But I won't touch gizzards or calamari. And I have watched the look of creeping horror on non-Hoosier friends' faces when they asked the local server "is the fish fresh?" and the server nodded brightly, "yes – fresh frozen!" – leaving them to imagine the unlucky diner who got the fish that was frozen after it was no longer fresh.

Twelve hours later on Facebook, I'm still getting declarations of preferences on white spreadable condiments, but nothing about Indiana, California, real estate prices, or anything else except unironic responses to the throwaway joke in the status message (except two: my sister from Indiana put in a good word for sugar cream pie, and David Neiwart showed he clearly got the drift by chipping in with another regional delicacy that makes non-locals go "Ewww!"). I strongly suspect most readers made it through the set-up message and never went any further. This serves me right for playing the click-bait game, I suppose.

People, this is simple. If you don't like it, don't buy it. If you don't want it, don't eat it. No need to choose up sides in a war.

Spend your time productively, arguing which Darren was better.

(Postscript: As I was writing this last night, a currently-turning-vegan friend stopped by to chat and when I mentioned what I was working on, she told me about this. The website has the following endorsement:

“I preferred the taste of their Just Mayo to 
Hellmann’s, my ‘must have’ brand. In a blind test.”
Andrew Zimmern
Travel Channel Host & Celebrity Chef

Let the battle begin!)

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Serendipity, Facebook-style

The following two items turned up back-to-back in my Facebook news feed yesterday:

First, Paul Krugman called the fashionable obsession with long-term budget deficits a "cop-out," since it lets budget scolds off the hook for dealing with America's here-and-now problems like our crumbling infrastructure, rising economic inequality, and jobless "recovery." In fact, it paints the people who want to address those problems as the villains.
Think about it: Faced with mass unemployment and the enormous waste it entails, for years the Beltway elite devoted almost all their energy not to promoting recovery, but to Bowles-Simpsonism — to devising “grand bargains” that would address the supposedly urgent problem of how we’ll pay for Social Security and Medicare a couple of decades from now. [...]

Discussions of short-run fiscal and monetary policy are politically charged. Oppose austerity and support monetary expansion and you’ll be lambasted by the right; do the reverse and you’ll be criticized and maybe ridiculed by the left. I understand why it’s tempting to dismiss the whole debate and declare that the really important issues involve the long run. But while people who say that kind of thing like to pose as brave and responsible, they’re actually ducking the hard stuff — which is to say, being craven and irresponsible.

Which brings me back to the president’s new budget.

It goes without saying that Mr. Obama’s fiscal proposals, like everything he does, will be attacked by Republicans. He’s also, however, sure to face criticism from self-proclaimed centrists accusing him of irresponsibly abandoning the fight against long-term budget deficits.

And immediately below it on the same feed was this cartoon by Gary Varvel, editorial cartoonist for the Indianapolis Star, crediting the economy-crippling sequestration cuts (talk about a cop-out!) for what recovery we're seeing right now, while blaming Obama for seeking ignoring long-term deficit issues to tackle the problems on his plate (and that of the Republican-controlled Congress) right now. You couldn't have measured that gap with an egg-timer.

The IndyStar's editorial board are no friends of Obama, although they did hang Varvel himself out to dry for a Thanksgiving season cartoon on Obama's immigration policy initiative that was generally considered to have crossed a line (although not for opposing Obama's policy in itself). And, amazingly, they keep that scourge of the liberal media, Mallard Filmore, going on the comics page.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Saturday morning tunes: I ain't no senator's son

Via Roy Edroso and many others comes the story of rightwing bloggers, most of whom came of age after the Vietnam War ended the second time, and after the military draft, who were deeply, deeply offended that Bruce Springsteen, David Grohl, Zac Brown, and other musicians used the Veterans Day concert on the National Mall – called Concert for Valor so that no one would mistake it for a mattress sale event – to perform the CCR classic "Fortunate Son."

Contrary to their fervid belief, the song "Fortunate Son" was not written to disrespect veterans, nor was it written in opposition to war, strictly speaking. It was written in opposition to the cheap tub-thumpers for war who remain secure in the knowledge that neither they nor their children will ever have to go anywhere near a war zone. 

People like this:



And this:



And, of course, this:



Oh, and definitely this:



You want to see some serious vet disrespecting, start there.

In the little Indiana town where I grew up during the Vietnam era, there were families with connections at the county seat (where the draft board sat) whose sons never saw military service, let alone went into harm's way. It was a source of genuine irritation to my father, not so much for my sake, I think, as for the daily indignation of a being Democrat in a Republican county. As it turned out, I didn't serve either, although that was far more a matter of dumbass luck than anything remotely resembling political connections.

Part of the current problem, of course, is that Republicans have a long history of appropriating rock songs they haven't listened to all the way through. And that's what's happening here; ask John.

So here's the original:



Oh, and by the way:




Tuesday, September 23, 2014

The unforgiving minute: Adjuncts

Salon.com ran a piece over the weekend about adjuct faculty as the sharecroppers in the groves of academe. It's all pretty much true, and where it falls short of the truth it's probably because it wasn't blunt enough.

If I self-disclosed here on p3 the way a lot of bloggers do at the sites people actually read, I would tell you now some of my own horror stories about the adjunct faculty zone where I dwelt for a couple of years as a freeway flyer after ending my proper academic career and before reinventing myself as Nothstine 2.0. But the truth is, I got off easy, compared to the people in this article who've played that game for five, ten, or twenty years  – which I can scarcely imagine. So I'll let it slide. You can thank me later.

Let's just say that there's nothing in the Salon article that doesn't fit what I remember experiencing – and that was twenty years ago, when the hostility of the university business-model administrative attitude toward faculty was only a twentieth-part as dismissive and contemptuous as it is today.

And yet . . . and yet . . . what stung me most in the article wasn't the description of the degrading conditions in which adjunct faculty work as a part of the post-Reagan business model that drives American higher education, bad as those are. It was this lament from a pseudonymous professor – from Indiana, just to twist the knife:
“I can’t speak for everyone, but I essentially design my own courses. And sometimes I don’t find out how many courses I’m going to be teaching until maybe Thursday and they start Monday. … So I have to develop a course, and it’s been the case where one summer I taught English 102 where the course was literally dropped in my lap three days before it started and I had to develop it entirely from scratch."
A teacher of freshman English, and he doesn't understand that the last-minute course assignment could only have dropped in his lap figuratively, not literally.

It was probably lucky for all concerned that I got out when I did.

Friday, April 11, 2014

"Kurt is up in Heaven now."

Kurt Vonnegut died seven years ago today. p3 is proud to honor his final request.
I am, incidentally, Honorary President of the American Humanist Association, having succeeded the late, great science fiction writer Isaac Asimov in that totally functionless capacity. We had a memorial service for Isaac a few years back, and I spoke and said at one point, "Isaac is up in heaven now." It was the funniest thing I could have said to an audience of humanists. I rolled them in the aisles. It was several minutes before order could be restored. And if I should ever die, God forbid, I hope you will say, "Kurt is up in Heaven now." That's my favorite joke.

Kurt Vonnegut,

Monday, December 9, 2013

Good news, everyone: I've arrived in a Mecca of a sort

Turns out the city I'm visiting has a special little place in history I never knew about:
On this day in 1958, Robert H. W. Welch Jr. founded the John Birch Society in Indianapolis, meeting with 11 other men from various states. This national organization adopted as its mission the protection of the United States against communism.

The Encyclopedia of Indianapolis (1994)
Ah, how well I remember that "Save the Republic: Impeach Earl Warren" billboard that once stood defiantly along 16th Street on the west side.

Since those days, of course, international communism has collapsed and the society has somewhat diversified its portfolio.

And yes, there is an Encyclopedia of Indianapolis, although my source for this tidbit was a "Today in Indiana History" item in this morning's Indianapolis Star.

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

RIP Doghouse Riley

If your browser won't display the embedded version, click here. 

I never met the blogger Doghouse Riley, though I reckon there were probably times during my occasional family visits when we must have been no more than about twenty miles apart – didn't even know his real name until I read it in his obituary. If I had gotten to meet him, I imagine I'd have other topics to bring up than whether his pseudonym actually came from the Raymond Chandler novel.

He was, it seemed to me, that luckiest of individuals: A man with a wicked sense of humor, a genuine voice, and the indignation of a badger, whose chosen subject – Indiana politics – afforded him an exceptionally target-rich environment.

I particularly enjoyed his shiv-like deployment of the well-turned phrase, such as here. And here. Elected and appointed miscreants in the Hoosier state – of which there is an endless supply – have gotten an undeserved break.

We can ponder the sweet irony that the last word on his site went to the woman he always referred to as My Poor Wife.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

A quantum of umbrage: What's the Second Amendment done for you lately?

(Update: Thanks so much to Batocchio for (1) carrying on the generous Jon Swift tradition of taking a moment at the end of the year to give a shout-out to blogs who are on the dark side of the street, and (2) keeping us here at p3 on the list.

I was only allowed to submit one piece for the honor, but I really liked this one, too: Toward a basic rhetoric for right-wingers.You can decide.

I recommend that you patronize all of the fine blogging operations on Batocchio's list.)



Okay, I'm at least as much of as absolutist about the First Amendment as, oh, say these guys profess to be about the Second Amendment. (Little Johnnies like these are the reason I refer to Indiana as “the state where I was born, but not the state I'm from.”)

Still, I accept limits on my First Amendment rights, for the sake of the greater good – manner, place, and time, libel, slander, false advertising, perjury, clear and present danger (which, Tom Clancy fanboys should be reminded, is a First Amendment trigger, not a Second). And I'm willing to concede that not everyone who disagrees with what I say is trying to censor me or take away my First Amendment freedoms. In fact, as you might well expect, I stand by Nothstine's Law of Free Speech:
If defending free speech doesn't hurt, at least a little, then you're probably not doing it right.
That's why I support the right of people in the Old Confederacy to sport the Confederate battle flag on public buildings, pickup trucks, T-shirts, dorm room walls, and garages: The uglier the sentiment expressed, after all, the more it likely needs First Amendment protection. (“Heritage” justifications be damned. See below.) Plus, there's a sort of public health angle: Confederate flags serve the same useful purpose as Hazmat warning signs: Danger: Toxic Environment Ahead.

So, if even their bete noir the ACLU will accept limitations on the First Amendment for the greater good, why won't the tea-party conservatives, or the NRA, or its hirelings in Congress, accept any limits – any! any at all! – on the Second Amendment?

Speaking as an editor – and a native speaker of American English – it's undoubtedly the worst-written amendment among the original ten.
As passed by the Congress:
A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
As ratified by the States and authenticated by Thomas Jefferson, Secretary of State:
A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed

The reason it's such a grammatical dog's breakfast is that it went through some fast and furious last-minute changes:
The real reason the Second Amendment was ratified, and why it says "State" instead of "Country" (the Framers knew the difference - see the 10th Amendment), was to preserve the slave patrol militias in the southern states, which was necessary to get Virginia's vote. Founders Patrick Henry, George Mason, and James Madison were totally clear on that . . . and we all should be too.

In the beginning, there were the militias. In the South, they were also called the "slave patrols," and they were regulated by the states.

In Georgia, for example, a generation before the American Revolution, laws were passed in 1755 and 1757 that required all plantation owners or their male white employees to be members of the Georgia Militia, and for those armed militia members to make monthly inspections of the quarters of all slaves in the state. The law defined which counties had which armed militias and even required armed militia members to keep a keen eye out for slaves who may be planning uprisings. [...] It's the answer to the question raised by the character played by Leonardo DiCaprio in Django Unchained when he asks, "Why don't they just rise up and kill the whites?" If the movie were real, it would have been a purely rhetorical question, because every southerner of the era knew the simple answer: Well regulated militias kept the slaves in chains.
That's the original intent of the Second Amendment as it was finally, lop-earedly phrased. And that's why it has that clunky preface – which, for almost any other part of the Constitution would be taken dead-seriously by the originalists on the Supreme Court, but not here. Antonin Scalia, please pick up the white courtesy phone. Antonin Scalia, the white courtesy phone, please.

So let's review:

The First Amendment helped bring Vietnam War to an end a little sooner. It's protected our freedom to read what we choose to read. (Same for our children. It's always "for the children," isn't it?) It's protected students' rights to express their social and political views. It's protected the right of American Nazis to demonstrate on the streets of Skokie, IL, a Chicago suburb filled with Holocaust survivors. It's protected satirists and parodists from the people whose dignity might be offended by being parodied or satirized. It's protected individuals' right to dissent and to take unpopular opinions. It's protected our right to privacy and anonymity. It's prevented access to public forums and venues being denied simply on the basis of religion.

And what has the Second Amendment done for us lately? Well, it helped Southern whites put down slave rebellions, and it's made it nearly impossible to prevent well-armed whackjobs from shooting up schools.

Congratulations.

About the only thing that the hard-core gun lovers and I have in common is this: I think that the correct response to unpopular speech is more free speech. They think the correct response to gun violence is more guns.

Actually, they think the correct response to anything is more guns.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

"Kurt is up in Heaven now."

Kurt Vonnegut died six years ago today. p3 is proud to honor his final request.
I am, incidentally, Honorary President of the American Humanist Association, having succeeded the late, great science fiction writer Isaac Asimov in that totally functionless capacity. We had a memorial service for Isaac a few years back, and I spoke and said at one point, "Isaac is up in heaven now." It was the funniest thing I could have said to an audience of humanists. I rolled them in the aisles. It was several minutes before order could be restored. And if I should ever die, God forbid, I hope you will say, "Kurt is up in Heaven now." That's my favorite joke.

Kurt Vonnegut,

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

The unforgiving minute: And a-one, and a-two, and . . .


Somewhere, at this moment, Dick Lugar must be shaking his head in amusement and dismay.

Poor Dick. He's so old and out of it he thought it was all about governing and leadership. Watching him try to go Teabag-to-Teabag against Mourdock last spring made me secretly thankful that Lawrence Welk died before he and his Champagne Music Makers had to try covering rap music.

Anyway, congratulations to Indiana, whose Senate candidate is currently leading the 2012 GOP Misogyny Open.

Minute's up.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

"Kurt is up in Heaven now."

Kurt Vonnegut died five years ago today. p3 is proud to honor his final request.
I am, incidentally, Honorary President of the American Humanist Association, having succeeded the late, great science fiction writer Isaac Asimov in that totally functionless capacity. We had a memorial service for Isaac a few years back, and I spoke and said at one point, "Isaac is up in heaven now." It was the funniest thing I could have said to an audience of humanists. I rolled them in the aisles. It was several minutes before order could be restored. And if I should ever die, God forbid, I hope you will say, "Kurt is up in Heaven now." That's my favorite joke.

Kurt Vonnegut,

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Kurt Vonnegut: Persuasive guessing and American leadership

Vonnegut wrote this dyspeptic piece in 2005, when the Bush/Cheney/Rumsfeld show was just starting its second act. Wish I could report to him that things have changed much (for the better), but . . .

(Earlier in the same book, he also expressed concern for those readers who couldn't tell when he was kidding, and promised to give them a heads-up, as needed.)

Persuasive guessing has been at the core of leadership for so long, for all of human experience so far, that it is wholly unsurprising that most of the leaders of this planet, in spite of all the information that is suddenly ours, want the guessing to go on. It is now their turn to guess and guess and be listened to. Some of the loudest, most proudly ignorant guessing in the world is going on in Washington today. Our leaders are sick of all the solid information that has been dumped on humanity by research and scholarship and investigative reporting. They think that the whole country is sick of it, and they could be right. It isn't the gold standard that they want to put us back on. They want something even more basic. They want to put us back on the snake-oil standard.

Loaded pistols are good for everyone except inmates in prisons or lunatic asylums.

That's correct.

Millions spent on public health are inflationary.

That's correct.

Billions spent on weapons will bring inflation down.

That's correct.

Dictatorships to the right are much closer to American ideals than dictatorships to the left.

That's correct.

The more hydrogen bomb warheads we have, all set to go off at a moment's notice, the safer humanity is and the better off the world will be that our grandchildren will inherit.

That's correct.

Industrial wastes, and especially those that are radioactive, hardly ever hurt anybody, so everybody should shut up about them.

That's correct.

Industries should be allowed to do whatever they want to do: Bribe, wreck the environment just a little, fix prices, screw dumb customers, put a stop to competition, and raid the Treasury when they go broke.

That's correct.

That's free enterprise.

And that's correct.

The poor have done something very wrong or they wouldn’t be poor, so their children should pay the consequences.

That's correct.

The United States of America cannot be expected to look after its own people.

The free market will do that.

That's correct.

The free market is an automatic system of justice.

That's correct.

I'm kidding.

Kurt Vonnegut

Thursday, August 11, 2011

If it's a day with a "y" in it, someone's banning this book

I'm not a big fan of anonymous donors in every imaginable instance, but this time my hat's off to the person or persons unknown who stepped up to help the students at one Missouri high school survive the process of their own education:
Most of us regard Kurt Vonnegut's classic novel Slaughterhouse-Five as a masterpiece of thought-provoking science fiction, but the School Board of Republic High School in Missouri felt differently. They decided to ban the novel.

And in response, the Vonnegut Memorial Library offered to provide a free copy to any of the 150 students who were originally supposed to read it.
The cost of the copies was covered by an anonymous donor, who has our grateful thanks. The trigger that led to the banning?
Vonnegut's novel filters his World War II trauma through the lens of time travel and alien abduction, and in the process creates some fascinating insights into trauma, history and brutality. But the high school banned the book for creating "false conceptions of American history and government or that teach principles contrary to Biblical morality and truth."

The School Board took the Vonnegut classic under consideration after receiving a complaint from Missouri University professor Wesley Scroggins, about that book and two others.
One wonders if Professor Scroggins (who appears to be on the business administration faculty at Missouri State University, not the University of Missouri or the nonexistent Missouri University) would take kindly to having his own textbook selections second-guessed by community members concerned that modern management principles don't always square with Biblical morality either, but let that pass.

The Vonnegut Library's statement included this message to the Federal HS students:
We think it's important for everyone to have their First Amendment rights. We're not telling you to like the book… we just want you to read it and decide for yourself.
Any student who wants to read the forbidden book -- and, ironically, the school board probably couldn't think of a better motivator than telling the kids it's bad for them -- simply has to email the library name, address, and grade level (although their personal information won't be shared).

At that time, they were teaching that there was absolutely no difference between anybody. They may be teaching that still.
Kurt Vonnegut, 

For more posts about banned books, go here.

For more posts about Kurt Vonnegut, go here.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Quote of the day: Lackluster

Lance Mannion once lived in Fort Wayne, so he's allowed:

Of all the lackluster states in the Union, Indiana has to be in the running for the most lacking in any sort of luster. It’s not even really a farm state. It’s a state of insurance agents who sell policies to farmers.

Heh.

Check out LM's argument for why the luckiest break the GOP could hope for is if the 2012 nomination at least appeared to be about a face-off between Mitt Romney and Mitch Daniels.