I often find myself peering over the top of my blackberry and announcing to Jane the latest in a string of far-right antics (Cordoba House controvery, the referendum in Arizona, or the latest from Clarence Thomas and his wife.) I am often spoiling for a good long rant or at least and impassioned discussion about how wrong-headed such-and-such thing is or how it reveals the xenophobia and American exceptionalism woven into our political discourse.
It is pretty rare that Jane and I disagree on this type of thing, but the flavor of our response differs. She boils it down to its essentials. "We live in a country of assholes," she says and keeps doing whatever she is doing.
I'd like to think that isn't true. But lately of course, it appears that it might just be this straightforward.
Friday, November 05, 2010
I can't look away
I keep opening the paper and my blackberry and my browser and starting to read election fall-out coverage, and then closing it, just shaking my head, thinking what on earth is my country coming to? It's such a discouraging outlook for even holding the line on reproductive rights, health care access, and improving the economy, let alone doing anything about DADT, immigration reform, or climate change . Inevitably, five minutes later, I am back at it again trying to find some smattering of hope.
Paul Krugman's editorial today is worth looking at, recalling how he said back in the day that the stimulus package simply wasn't big enough, and how Obama blew the political handling of the economic recovery from the get-go. He says:
"I felt a sense of despair during Mr. Obama’s first State of the Union address, in which he declared that “families across the country are tightening their belts and making tough decisions. The federal government should do the same.” Not only was this bad economics — right now the government must spend, because the private sector can’t or won’t — it was almost a verbatim repeat of what John Boehner, the soon-to-be House speaker, said when attacking the original stimulus. If the president won’t speak up for his own economic philosophy, who will?"
Krugman's observation is that it isn't too late for Obama to take an aggressive and principles stand for economic measures that will actually benefit the economy, coupled with a political strategy to highlight Republican obstructionism's role in the stagnant recovery. But who knows if this will happen.
Like I said, I can't look away.
Paul Krugman's editorial today is worth looking at, recalling how he said back in the day that the stimulus package simply wasn't big enough, and how Obama blew the political handling of the economic recovery from the get-go. He says:
"I felt a sense of despair during Mr. Obama’s first State of the Union address, in which he declared that “families across the country are tightening their belts and making tough decisions. The federal government should do the same.” Not only was this bad economics — right now the government must spend, because the private sector can’t or won’t — it was almost a verbatim repeat of what John Boehner, the soon-to-be House speaker, said when attacking the original stimulus. If the president won’t speak up for his own economic philosophy, who will?"
Krugman's observation is that it isn't too late for Obama to take an aggressive and principles stand for economic measures that will actually benefit the economy, coupled with a political strategy to highlight Republican obstructionism's role in the stagnant recovery. But who knows if this will happen.
Like I said, I can't look away.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Tales from the Phone Bank
I did some volunteering for Organizing for America this weekend for the November 2 election. While it lacks the feeling of breathless momentum that volunteering in the 2008 carried with it, I find it moderately comforting to know that even if the Republicans take the House or Senate, I won't suffer the anguish of having done nothing for the next four years. I earned a grudging acknowledgement from Jane the other night, who said I "put my money where my mouth is" after volunteer shift # 4. Jane wants no part of any sort of phone banking or canvassing effort, so every Sunday evening for the last three weeks or so, I have tottled off to a MoveOn or OFA on my home.
And I get why she is totally uninterested. Calling people is a bummer, because you are intruding on their space. People feel extraordinary license to be rude over the phone. They hang up, they tell you how little use they have for your candidate, they point out how many times they have been called. Often not nicely.
I got a kick out of how a conversation I had with someone like this ended yesterday. OFA's lists are usually really well organized, with all the people in one household in one place, but yesterday they had dispersed names of family members across different lists given to several different people, so if you had several children and a husband who were all registered voters, it would be possible to receive several calls from different volunteers in less than an hour. I reached a woman who said she had received "3 calls in fifteen minutes from us and what did I really want to ask her son anyway?"
ME: "I just wanted to ask if he is planning to vote," says I.
ANGRY MOTHER: "Devon, (names have been changed to protect the guilty) this woman wants to know if you are planning to vote!"
DEVON: uninteligible speech
ANGRY MOTHER: (To Devon) "What's in for you? I'll tell you what's in it for you. Healthcare for starters." (To Me) "You can put down that he is going to vote, because I am his mother and if he doesn't I am going to kick his ass."
I told her it sounded like she had the situation under control and got off the phone as quickly as possible. I was also supposed to ask about the daughter in the house, but I figured the best thing for the Get Out the Vote Effort was to leave her alone and let her work her magic.
The thing I wish most in the world today would be to be able to call my Mom and tell her that story.
And I get why she is totally uninterested. Calling people is a bummer, because you are intruding on their space. People feel extraordinary license to be rude over the phone. They hang up, they tell you how little use they have for your candidate, they point out how many times they have been called. Often not nicely.
I got a kick out of how a conversation I had with someone like this ended yesterday. OFA's lists are usually really well organized, with all the people in one household in one place, but yesterday they had dispersed names of family members across different lists given to several different people, so if you had several children and a husband who were all registered voters, it would be possible to receive several calls from different volunteers in less than an hour. I reached a woman who said she had received "3 calls in fifteen minutes from us and what did I really want to ask her son anyway?"
ME: "I just wanted to ask if he is planning to vote," says I.
ANGRY MOTHER: "Devon, (names have been changed to protect the guilty) this woman wants to know if you are planning to vote!"
DEVON: uninteligible speech
ANGRY MOTHER: (To Devon) "What's in for you? I'll tell you what's in it for you. Healthcare for starters." (To Me) "You can put down that he is going to vote, because I am his mother and if he doesn't I am going to kick his ass."
I told her it sounded like she had the situation under control and got off the phone as quickly as possible. I was also supposed to ask about the daughter in the house, but I figured the best thing for the Get Out the Vote Effort was to leave her alone and let her work her magic.
The thing I wish most in the world today would be to be able to call my Mom and tell her that story.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Georgia on My Mind
I am in Atlanta with my friend Jessica, visiting our friends Thurka and James and their eighteen month old son Gyan. Before that we were in Millidgeville, GA, visiting our friends Claire and Sebastian and their nine month old son Bram. In Millidgeville, we ate barbecue with fried eggplant and okra, and these little french bread, mozzarella, basil, and tomato hors d'oevres that Claire made. Last night we talked about feminism, gender constructions, and female modes of accessing power in the Middle Ages in Poland. (Sebastian is a historian, with a specialization in Poland.) In Atlanta, we ate lamb burgers with sriracha sauce, grilled chicken, potato salad with bacon, and grilled corn. With Thurka and James, Jessica and I talked about our respectively boyfriend/girlfriend, the Atlanta social scene for professional couples and Hindu and Catholic birth ceremonies.
Before we took off for Atlanta, we visited Flannery O'Connor's home in Millidgeville where she wrote most of her famous work. My parents read Flannery O'Conner's stories aloud to each other when I was eight or nine. Overhearing these stories as a child made me uneasy about human nature and what happens to small children who go to spend the day with middle-aged babysitters. Being in her home, and seeing the room where she wrote these twisted, hilarious stories obsessed with sin, retribution, and redemption, I felt connected to all the other beings who had passed through the house in a pilgrimage to her particular capacity to depict evil and good. We chatted for awhile with the executive director of the Flannery O'Conner Foundation. He mentioned that she has a particular following in Japan.
Before we took off for Atlanta, we visited Flannery O'Connor's home in Millidgeville where she wrote most of her famous work. My parents read Flannery O'Conner's stories aloud to each other when I was eight or nine. Overhearing these stories as a child made me uneasy about human nature and what happens to small children who go to spend the day with middle-aged babysitters. Being in her home, and seeing the room where she wrote these twisted, hilarious stories obsessed with sin, retribution, and redemption, I felt connected to all the other beings who had passed through the house in a pilgrimage to her particular capacity to depict evil and good. We chatted for awhile with the executive director of the Flannery O'Conner Foundation. He mentioned that she has a particular following in Japan.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Disturbing attack on a Muslim cabdriver
Given the environment in New York these days, sadly, this should come as no surprise, but there it is.
On a related note, Bloomberg made another good speech on religious freedom and the Cordoba House development.
On a related note, Bloomberg made another good speech on religious freedom and the Cordoba House development.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Liz in China
My godsister, childhood friend Liz is heading out for a semester in Beijing. Jane and I are so in awe of her. She has started a blog and which I have added to the blogroll (which, I note, is sorely in need of some refreshing.)
The Moviegoer
Last night I was speaking with Jane and made a reference to Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet.
Jane: (long silence) Is that the horse movie?
Me: The horse movie? No, I don't remember a horse in it.
Jane: Oh no wait, that is National Velvet.
Me: Right, not the Liz Taylor movie. Blue Velvet was David Lynch's creepy masterpiece showing the dark side of small town America. With Dennis Hopper and Isabelle Rossellini. David Lynch made all these groundbreaking movies in the eighties like Eraserhead and The Elephant Man. Do you remember the TV show Twin Peaks?
Jane: Yes
Me: Well, that guy.
(Full disclosure: I might not have been quite that cogent last night. I did some homework on IMDB for this post.)
I am still geting used to being with someone with minimal interest in film. In fact, I am still assimilating the idea that there are intelligent, sophisticated people with interest in cultural and world affairs who simply have little to no use for movies. Jane reads Shakespeare and Salman Rushdie and the Economist on the subway. She is no intellectual lightweight, but this curiosity does not extend to film. She sees blockbusters every couple months and on occasion will see an arty film or classic that she really enjoys (O Brother Where Art Thou is on this list, and I think Chinatown, although she might have just been humoring me.) She has movies that she watches periodically and counts among her favorites (I will let her share that list with you herself.) But spending a free evening in the cinema, talking about movies, referring to movies as points of reference for something going on in her life (things I do ad nauseum), not so much.
We are getting better at dealing with it. (Read: I am getting better at dealing with it.) If I go to a movie by myself and call her afterwards, launching into a long-winded discursive commentary on it, I have gotten used to stopping in the middle to see if she is still interested. It's a learning experience.
Jane: (long silence) Is that the horse movie?
Me: The horse movie? No, I don't remember a horse in it.
Jane: Oh no wait, that is National Velvet.
Me: Right, not the Liz Taylor movie. Blue Velvet was David Lynch's creepy masterpiece showing the dark side of small town America. With Dennis Hopper and Isabelle Rossellini. David Lynch made all these groundbreaking movies in the eighties like Eraserhead and The Elephant Man. Do you remember the TV show Twin Peaks?
Jane: Yes
Me: Well, that guy.
(Full disclosure: I might not have been quite that cogent last night. I did some homework on IMDB for this post.)
I am still geting used to being with someone with minimal interest in film. In fact, I am still assimilating the idea that there are intelligent, sophisticated people with interest in cultural and world affairs who simply have little to no use for movies. Jane reads Shakespeare and Salman Rushdie and the Economist on the subway. She is no intellectual lightweight, but this curiosity does not extend to film. She sees blockbusters every couple months and on occasion will see an arty film or classic that she really enjoys (O Brother Where Art Thou is on this list, and I think Chinatown, although she might have just been humoring me.) She has movies that she watches periodically and counts among her favorites (I will let her share that list with you herself.) But spending a free evening in the cinema, talking about movies, referring to movies as points of reference for something going on in her life (things I do ad nauseum), not so much.
We are getting better at dealing with it. (Read: I am getting better at dealing with it.) If I go to a movie by myself and call her afterwards, launching into a long-winded discursive commentary on it, I have gotten used to stopping in the middle to see if she is still interested. It's a learning experience.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Like that Date Skit on Saturday Night Live from the 80's.
It is quite disagreeable to hear your dentist say, "You have to have a root canal."
It turns out to be even more disagreeable to hear him say, “I am not able complete this root canal and am putting in a temporary filling in order to send you to a specialist.”
It turns out to be even more disagreeable to hear him say, “I am not able complete this root canal and am putting in a temporary filling in order to send you to a specialist.”